Avatar of Fennec
  • Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
  • Joined: 9 yrs ago
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    1. Fennec 9 yrs ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

9 yrs ago
Current Something very bad just happened to me. Would some kind soul cheer me up somehow?
2 likes
9 yrs ago
For my birthday today: One shirt that says 'The dice giveth and the dice taketh away.' And one D&D inspired beach towel, with a huge-ass ancient red dragon on it.
9 likes
9 yrs ago
Chaotic Neutral: Aim to Misbehave.
1 like
9 yrs ago
I have fallen into a dark abyss filled with d20s and D&D.
3 likes

Bio

Alright, I'm not one to prattle one.

My Interests!

Dungeons & Dragons. I am both a player and a DM.
Books. I read them. Often.
Music. I play violin.
Video games. Yes.

As for roleplaying, I enjoy most genres if it involves fiction. Unless it's Slice of Life. I don't see the appeal in writing about real things when I'm already living out that stuff. I'm eighteen, and I am comfortable writing smut.

Anything else, we'll have to discuss.

Most Recent Posts

Aleksandra was almost immediately surrounded by huge men in silly outfits. Where she might have been frightened a few weeks earlier, now she had the urge to laugh. She quelled it and pretended to be indifferent, listening to their praise and admiration with a quickly growing ego. She could certainly get used to such treatment.

She finished wiping off her daggers and slipped them back into their previously hidden sheaths, which were strapped to her thighs. The motion brought some attention to her legs, probably more bare than some of these men had ever seen on a woman who wasn't a whore. Feeling a bit playful, she leaned back and crossed them, one over the other, feeling almost drunk on the admiring stares as they took in her scars and tattoos. She felt powerful in a way she never thought she would. She could probably ask some of these men to bray like horses and strip to their underclothes and they'd do it.

One man, apparently feeling brave after all he'd seen, was reaching for her leg. She let him, until his fingertips brushed her skin. Then she reached out and casually bent back his little finger, causing him to cry out and yank his hand away. Another man apparently found this amusing, because he threw back his head and gave a bear-like laugh that she'd come to learn meant Noxan approval. The laugh had attracted the attention of Aulfr, because he was walking towards her now.

She rose to her feet and took his arm, much to the disappointment of her many male admirers. "I'm feeling a bit faint," she admitted to him in a soft voice, making sure only he could hear it. "And things are a bit grey around the edges. It might be best if we retire for the evening." And so they did. They made a round of the room, Aulfr doing just about all of the talking, and then they were out of the hall. They passed by her mess on the way. Someone had removed the body, but there was still a puddle of blood on the floor and large spatters of it on the wall. She'd pretty much torn his throat out with her daggers. A stunt like that tended to make a mess.
She really did feel as if she were on top of the world. She wanted every ball and banquet to go this way if it meant she got to show off for the crowd and kiss Aulfr all in one night. She'd learned that she liked a bit of a show. Living rough, where any measure of her true skill might give her away, she wasn't able to push herself or really show what she was worth. She liked the competitive nature of politics, especially now that she knew she was probably one of the best warriors on the continent.

She was surprised when Aulfr decided to kiss her in front of everyone, and wondered if this might just be another spectacle for the crowd. But no. She'd seen the look in his eye and recognized it the way no one else would have. He was stunned, and he was happy. Maybe even proud of her. And he'd had to kiss her, she bet. The urge was too great. And she happily reciprocated. She didn't reach up and touch him, but she leaned into him enough that it was noticeable to anyone watching that the prince and the assassin were more than just working partners putting on a show.

She pulled away first and wiped some of her blood from where it had dripped onto his cheek. Everything was a bit hazy now, both from the alcohol and from her injuries. She wasn't losing a lot of blood, but she looked pale. She was determined to stay at Aulfr's side the rest of the evening. She'd just have to forgo any more dancing or other such excitement.

She turned and ordered a servant to retrieve her daggers from where she'd dropped them outside the doors. She didn't even know if she was allowed to order servants around, but the fear of angering her did the trick. They were in her hands within a minute. She turned back to Aulfr and murmured, "I'll take my place at a table nearby so the nobility can come speak to me as they please. Keep cavorting." Then, trailing a hand across one of his broad shoulders, she sat down at the nearest table and started to wipe the blood from her daggers with one of the fancy cloth napkins sitting there.

Her legs were mostly bare now, showcasing the tattoos on both of them. Creeping vines on one leg, roaring flames on the other. The blood on them was starting to dry. Sitting there as she was, surrounded by beauty and expensive things, even wearing a lovely but ruined dress herself, she presented a striking picture. The harsh and ugly world of death mixed with the arrogant and entitled air she was exuding made her look as if she belonged in both worlds. Savage and beautiful. Cultured and deadly.
Glamour, gossip, a night of beauty and enchantment. Aleksandra experienced none of those things.

Noxan balls were not about beauty or celebration. The nobility dressed like fools, there were weapons hidden up everyone's sleeves, and everyone avoided the punch for some reason she didn't want to question. She heard nothing but lies or petty gossip. Women would pass by and, knowing they couldn't get away with touching Aulfr, they settled for bumping into her and stepping on her feet. The only enjoyable thing was being able to hold onto Aulfr's arm through it all. He was a surprisingly comforting presence.

Not all of the ball was as cutthroat as she expected. Though she wasn't the best dancer, she was graceful and beautiful and everyone she was forced to dance with didn't comment on any incorrect steps she made. She was bit disappointed that she didn't get to dance with Aulfr before she tired, but there would be more balls. She could dance with him then, and she would know all the steps.

The event lasted for hours. Not halfway through, her feet already ached and she felt too warm. Not to mention how hard it felt to breathe. She supposed all of this excitement was agitating her wounds a bit too much. Maybe now that Aulfr had spoken about her to everyone, he might allow her to return to their chambers. With her silly silk slippers held in one hand, she turned to find Aulfr in the crowd.

If asked later why she knew she had to move so suddenly, she wouldn't be able to answer. Some deep instinct in her screamed at her to lean to the left. And not half a second later, there was a deadly thrum as a crossbow bolt tore through the air and grazed her bare shoulder, leaving behind a sudden shock of pain. For a moment, she stood there with the most surprised look on her features. And then she hardened. The expression in her eyes could only be described as murderous.

The hall was nearly silent as they watched her turn and identify the man running out the door, supposedly to escape after his failed assassination attempt. Her daggers were already in her hands, her slippers discarded on the floor like so much trash. She glanced at Aulfr and inclined her head slightly. She was going after this assassin no matter what he said. No reason not to be polite about it.

And then she was running. Nobles leaped out of her way, some of them marking themselves with odd symbols of protection against whatever demon had possessed her. She was no more than a hunter in that moment, dead-focused on taking down her prey. The doors opened and then closed behind her, and all was quiet.

For a few minutes, she was gone. Then, out in the corridor, there was a pained scream. More silence. And then she was prowling back into the hall with a disturbingly serene smile plastered on her now-bleeding face. The blighter had tried to shoot her again and had grazed her jaw. The morbid evidence of Aleksandra's success was all over the skirt of her dress, which had been half cut away to allow her to run. It was splattered in blood, as were her tattooed legs and feet, which trailed bloody footprints all the way over to Aulfr. She snagged a small flute of spiced wine as she passed by a frightened servant and came to a halt beside her prince. She looked dangerous. Beautiful. Savage.

"That went quite well," she murmured, taking a sip of her wine. She would only have a sip or two. It wasn't safe to drink more than that. Especially when everything was gray and blurry at the edges of her vision and her ribs felt like fire. But she also felt amazing. She wondered how Aulfr felt about her little performance? Surely, that stunt would cause his reputation to skyrocket.
Yes, go ahead.
Girl: You wake up in a castle, and you don't know where you are. There are so many things out of place, and your memory is blurry, so you really just have to connect the dots. It's not that hard once you notice a few key things: Your clothes are gone, replaced by terribly revealing underwear. Oh, and there's a man sleeping beside you. After learning that you've been gifted to this pervert as some sort of toy, you rebel as much as possible.

Guy: You're the Crown Prince of (some kingdom) and for some reason, you’ve been given a slave girl to do with what you please. You aren’t a very nice person, but you aren’t a monster. You do your best to wrangle this girl into submission but she’s like some wild beast.
And things progress from there.

I've got maps and a backstory and all sorts of awesome stuff for this. ^

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Girl: Your parent(s) die. Filled with grief and anger, you are sent to live with your uncle/grandma/some other relative in a tiny town in the middle of a ridiculously dense forest. You are told never to go into the forest at night, and especially not alone. But filled with rebellion from your parent(s) death, you go in there anyways. You run into a man, a man who has the ability to turn into a wolf. He kidnaps you, and shows you his pack. Your world is turned upside-down by this shocking revelation. You're being pulled and tugged in a million different directions, and through it all you fight through your growing attraction- and fear- for the man who took you, even though he's more beast than he is human.

Guy: You're a werewolf. Not the bitten kind, the born kind. Your pack lives in the forest surrounding the town. There's a treaty that basically says that the werewolves will leave the townspeople alone and vice versa. But if a human enters the forest, they belong to the pack. One night, while you patrol, a new girl to the town enters the forest and you claim her before your pack mates. You show her your pack, keep her safe from the harsher wolves, the ones that dislike humans. Along the way, you discover for the first time exactly what it means to be human.
Also, I have a thing that must be explained.
You know the inner voice everyone has, like a conscience that tells them right from wrong? Well, werewolves have that too, but theirs is broken. They don't have an off switch, and their inner voice is angry, horny, and slightly violent. It's also very persuasive. Depending on how a wolf is raised, that voice can either be tamer or wilder. When the inner voice is wilder, it's harder to ignore, thus creating a werewolf that is moody, easily frustrated, and a bit bipolar. Someone who is harder to control.

Important stuff:
These werewolves are, for the most part, just human beings that can shift into wolves. They don't have an extended lifespan or slowed aging. They are slightly stronger, but not to an insane degree. Some of them have a strong enough sense of smell that they can scent things a few miles away, or scent moods and emotions. This is rare, though. They just look like really big, but otherwise normal, wolves.

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That's what I'm interested in right now.
Some stuff about me:

I am on this site all day, every day unless I have work or school.
I can post multiple times a day, and I can do it well.
My average is four decent paragraphs, two or three if I'm really uninspired. My largest count is about nine paragraphs, I believe.
Depending on the plot, I can play either male or female.
I'm open to MxM and FxF plots.
I'm not too squeamish, so mature content is fine with me.
I need a partner I can joke with.

I'm not stiff. This isn't always serious for me. I have a sense of humor and I like to use it. Hopefully, whomever I roleplay with feels the same way. c:

Anyways. I want a partner who can reply more than once a day. I don't care if it's just twice. I need more than one reply. Also, romance is a must.

That's about everything I have to say. I've got my own plots, so just ask or message me for them if interested.
A few days passed in a blur of throbbing pain and furious protests of, 'I don't need help to walk. No, it doesn't hurt. You're acting like my
anya.' Finally, on the fifth day after stumbling into Aulfr's rooms, her horrid temper got the best of the healer and he let her roam around with strict orders not to do any fighting. There would be a feast that night, so she doubted she'd be doing anything more strenuous than rolling her eyes.

As per usual, she dressed in much less extravagant colors than Aulfr and the foolish nobles. But maybe she was feeling a tad bored with her usual black and grey, because she picked a dress that was much more daring than the others. She'd been wasting money at that point, more to irritate Aulfr than for any other reason. But she had to admit, this dress would stun Aulfr's rivals and enemies. She told herself that was the reason she put it on, and not because she wanted Aulfr drooling over her.

It was decidedly more sensual than the other dresses she'd worn. Comprised almost entirely of deep green lace, and with a very low-cut back that would showcase her slender, athletic build as well as most of her scars. The bodice was stiff enough that it held up her generous bust but not so much so that it was hard to breathe, and it also bared her shoulders and collarbones. Mixed in with the skirts were playful white panels of lace that peeked out every so often. The ensemble deepened the grey in her eyes and made her look much less pale. All in all, she looked stunning.

By the time she finished with her usual light touch of cosmetics and she'd concealed her daggers, she looked as if she'd never been injured at all. She stepped up to Aulfr's side and glanced up at him, feeling unusually shy. He was escorting her into the dining hall for this feast, and it gave her the most moronic urge to giggle. Like she was a princess going to a ball, she thought. A ridiculous and dangerously political ball.
She was stunned into silence. She had no idea what to say to him. He was watching her so patiently, so nervously. She'd never seen him act this way, and she desperately wanted to tell him that yes, she did love him. But she just... she couldn't say it. She cared more for him than she'd ever cared for any other man. And in her own way, she did love him. She was still his minion, but she knew they were friends. More than friends, they were hesitantly courting each other.

But when fully aware of her own thoughts and actions, she knew she would never be able to say the words out loud. Not unless her brothers were dead. They hung over her like two black storm-clouds, full to bursting and ready to drench her in despair. She could never really love any man until they died by her hands. But she couldn't hurt Aulfr by telling him that! He was watching her so closely, his expression unguarded and almost happy, and she wanted to say it. Just those three words.

For once, she let Aulfr see the conflicted emotions on her face. Sadness, shame, frustration. She couldn't say it. She did hate herself for what she'd said while drugged. But only because it made Aulfr hope. Hope that he could be with someone, but she was just broken. No one deserved to be stuck with her.

She reached up and wrapped his arms around him, ignoring the pain as she held him close. She didn't kiss him. She merely ran her fingers through his hair and murmured into his ear the only words of consolation she could offer. "Ti si moĭ. Iskam da bŭda tvoya. No vse oshte ne," she said softly in her own language. Noxan was too thick for such words. Hopefully he would understand them, and realize that she wasn't simply turning him away. She was trying to promise him a future. She was simply too damaged for that at the moment.
Aleksandra had almost dozed off again by the time Aulfr woke up. She jolted awake in much the same way as him and gave him her usual blank stare at he looked up at her. But then that smile. That grin. It immediately put her on edge and she forced herself to sit up as Aulfr climbed out of bed. She leaned against a mound of pillows, struggling with the fact that Aulfr might have possibly gone mad in his sleep. He was just wandering aimlessly, touching everything, and grinning that stupid grin all the while.

And then he was leaning over her, and she was getting ready to swing at him, injured or no. But he was just gloating over whatever she'd said. If it made him act this way, she was frightened to know what it was. But the longer she looked at him, at the way his smile softened him and made him look younger, almost boyish, the more she wanted to smile back at him in much the same way. Her lips were actually twitching with the urge to do so.

Abruptly, she shook her head and forced herself to scowl. "Do you want me to punch you, Aulfr? Because it seems to me that's what you're telling me. You want me to punch you." She pitched her voice lower, impersonation the guttural Noxan accent. "'Oh please, Aleksandra. You've got one hell of an uppercut. Bruise my handsome, masculine jawline for me. Also I really need a shave and a bath, because I smell.'" She threw in the jibe about his scent just to be mean. In all honestly, he smelled much better than she did. She hadn't washed herself in a week.

Before he could take her too seriously, she reached up and threaded her fingers in his hair, tugging him close enough that she could kiss him. Maybe it was just the drug still in her system or something more, but she nipped his bottom lip gently before pulling away. She met his gaze with her piercing blue-grey eyes. "Now please, what did I say? It can't have been anything too out of the ordinary. What on earth could make you grin like that? Did I make a very funny joke about the Oberjarl?"
Aleksandra slept through the night, having the strangest drug-induced dreams. She believed she ate a two-inch-tall Aulfr at one point. He didn't taste very good. And then she was very badly sword-fighting the Oberjarl from the back of a blue camel. She lopped off his head and there was Tiny Aulfr, reprimanding her for being so magnificent. She was stealing all his glory, he told her.

She woke gratefully, determined to never have dreams like that again. She let herself adjust to the light in the room as she came to lucidity. As she woke, sensations came back to her. There was no more blessed numbness in her limbs. No, she felt every ache and injury with extreme clarity. She let out a growl as she shifted, hissing when Aulfr's arm locked tighter around her ribs. Of course he was holding her. He had to be holding her now, of all times.

She wouldn't be able to break his hold unless he woke up, so she did her best to make things less painful. She carefully shimmied up, pushing his arm until it was draped across her hips instead of her middle. She breathed in as deeply as she could and finally relaxed into the pillows, letting herself hold him back.

She wondered what ridiculous things she'd told him now. Unlike when she'd been drunk, she couldn't recall a single detail of what had happened the night prior. She supposed painkillers and alcohol weren't much different, so she'd probably just cuddled into him and giggled some nonsense about how strong he was. Nothing too embarrassing. At worst, she might have tried to tug his shirt off. She'd done that to a female companion of hers the last time she'd really gotten drunk. Thank the Saints it hadn't been a man. Her friend had just laughed it off and put her to bed.
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