ItIsJustMe

Seeking male and female writers for a total of ~12 characters marooned on an island (current day)

Will there be GM led events to steer us/challenge us or will it be more of a make due yourself?

@Days

Both ... or either. What I mean is this:

• I will develop a general direction and some expected storylines -- survival stuff, conflict stuff -- in which characters may be involved.
• I will take suggestions for multi-character storylines from other writers, too. If they don't reverse or conflict with the things already established, I'm sure they will be added.
• If you have less time or interest in multi-character plot lines, please suggest "smaller" storylines that involve fewer characters or, if you prefer, only your own character. (I have no problem with characters wandering off.)

My chief concern with multi-writer RPs is that we all get along and don't conflict with one another in our storylines.

Seeking male and female writers for a total of ~12 characters marooned on an island (current day)

Are nonbinary writers allowed? 🤭

@Baphomini

Of course.

Seeking male and female writers for a total of ~12 characters marooned on an island (current day)

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"The Survivors"

DAY 1: Sunrise

Carol was once again exhausted enough to lay down and pass out. She and the others who were capable of doing so had been running up and down the beach or in and out of the destroyed C-130's fuselage for almost 3 hours, rescuing as much cargo as they could before either the flames, the storm, or the surf got to it.

They'd strung up a plastic tarp between four tall coconut trees just off the beach and stacked what needed to be out of the rain there. Other supplies had simply been hauled up from the surf to the forest's edge for proper tending later on. Tents were filled with the injured and exhausted, of which there were plenty.

In the end, there were 38 survivors:

• 28 of the original 36 Aid Workers. (Some were injured but not mortally.)
• 4 of the 6 Cargo Crew. (The 3 pilots had all died.)
• 1 Documentary Filmmaker
• 1 Camera Operator.
• 4 of the 5 Tongalese (who had been in New Zealand and who obviously wouldn't be making it home).

Carol checked with the Medical Staff regarding the injured. There were a number of broken bones and plenty of cuts and lacerations. They were dealing with them professionally, and Carol found herself very impressed.

"I, um ... I need to speak to you," the Senior Doctor said.

They moved to the entrance of another tent, which the Doctor pulled aside to reveal a single patient laid out comfortably in bedding arranged to support and secure her length. Carol knew Yolanda Gregerson from a previous mission; she was an Emergency Housing Specialist with more than 30 years of service. Yolanda smiled weakly to Carol and the Doctor but otherwise made no movements.

The Doctor closed the opening again and explained that the woman's back was broken in two places and that there was no fixing it. "She will be paralyzed until she dies ... which likely won't be long ... days ... weeks on the outside. I have her on strong sedatives for now, but ... well--"

The Doctor had already had this conversation with Yolanda, but the next conversation was for Yolanda and Carol. Stepping back a bit, the Doctor said, "I think the two of you should talk ... in private."

Carol entered the tent and moved to sit on the floor near Yolanda; she could feel the cool sand through the thick, reinforced fabric. The two women traded greetings, during which Carol took Yolanda's hand; she noticed immediately that the other woman showed no sign of knowing that the contact had been made, let alone returning the squeeze that Carol herself had offered.

"How you doing, Yolo?" Carol asked, using the You Only Live Once nickname that the Team Leader had found so appropriate for the adventure-seeking woman.

Yolanda laughed weakly. "Doc says there's nothing to be done for me. I'm going to die. Today. Tomorrow. Next week."

Carol had been holding in her emotions but now felt a tear stream down her cheek. She reached up to caress Yolanda's cheek and saw that at least this was felt by the injured woman. Yolanda continued, "I'm not going to live like this. I need you to help me not live like this."

Carol knew exactly what the other woman was asking. She'd never objected to Assisted Suicide, but then she'd never been asked to be a participant in it either. As she considered the issue in silence, Yolanda continued, "Doc won't take part. Ethical bullshit and all that. But options were offered. Behind you ... under the towel."

Looking under the indicated towel, Carol found a bottle of morphine and an already loaded syringe. She looked back to Yolanda, asking with a tremble in her voice, "Are you sure about this?"

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely," the injured woman answered. They stared at each other a moment, then Yolanda said, "I would like to be outside, though. I want to see the ocean. They tell me the storm passed."

"It did," Carol confirmed, smiling. "It's a beautiful morning."

"Take me outside," Yolanda asked. "Lean me up against a tree. Bury my feet in the sand. Give me a daquiri if you can scrounge one up."

Carol laughed, feeling another tear streak down her cheek. "If this is what you want, Yolo."

"It is," the other woman said.

Carol departed the tent, quietly found some volunteers, and -- using the bedding under her -- inconspicuously carried Yolanda down the beach away from the rest of the group to the trunk of a giant coconut tree. There, Carol -- and two others who'd worked with the injured woman in the past -- sat in the sand and partook of some airline bottles of booze that someone had unsurprisingly smuggled onto the mission; one was Rum, the closest they were going to get to a daquiri under the circumstances.

They watched the sun as it continued its rise into the sky and the surf as it pounded harshly in the aftermath of the fierce storm. Eventually, Yolanda looked to Carol and nodded. One of the other Medical Team members who'd joined them down the beach had volunteered to do the deed, but Carol had reminded them of her position and responsibility as Mission Leader.

"Why don't the rest of you head back to the camp," she suggested. After the others traded farewells with their coworker and, in some cases, close friend, they departed. Carol asked again, "You sure about this, Yolo?"

Yolanda only nodded, after which the injection was administered. Carol moved closer, putting an arm around her friend and caressing her face with soft fingertips. They talked about their first UNHCR mission together in coastal Sudan. Each morning, they'd gotten up in time to watch the sun rise from beyond the Red Sea. It was beautiful and inspirational, and for a moment it made them forget why they were there and how the rest of their day would progress. After which they'd say in synch, "It's all downhill from here", then laugh and get to work.

Sometime during the conversation, Yolanda went silent. Carol continued to sit with her friend for another hour or so, only then gesturing to one of the others who'd remained a few dozen yards off, waiting to help. They wrapped her in a white sheet and put her with the other dead who were awaiting burial for later in the day.

"Okay, so..." Carol said when she was back with the others. Wiping away another tear before it threatened her cheek, she asked the grouping of team leaders who were anxiously awaiting her leadership, "Whatcha got for me?"

Seeking male and female writers for a total of ~12 characters marooned on an island (current day)

deleted

"The Survivors"

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

Day 1:

• The C-130 crash lands. 38 Survivors include:
  
  • 28 of the original 36 Aid Workers. (Some are injured but not mortally.)
  • 4 of the 6 Cargo Crew. (The 3 pilots had all died.)
  • 1 Documentary Filmmaker.
  • 1 Camera Operator.
  • 4 of the 5 Tongalese (returning home to Tongalo from New Zealand).
• A pair of medical treatment tents are erected to tend to the injured.
• The able-bodied survivors salvage as much cargo as possible.
• An attempt to investigate the island has disappointing results. (See this post.)

"The Survivors"

"The Survivors"

PM Hostess to see if positions are still open

To chat with other writers, please use the Seeking Thread.

Carol Kingsley was awakened from a deep sleep by someone jostling her at the shoulder. One of the C-130's crew members leaned in closer to call out over the roar of the engines, “There's a problem! Cap'n needs to talk to you.”

Carol shook her head to loose the cobwebs from her brains. Prior to takeoff, she hadn't slept for almost 50 hours. Arranging a last-minute Aid Mission to the cyclone-devastated island of Tongalo had taken her all. After departing Aukland with the cargo and passengers finally aboard, Carol had next spent three hours playing musical chairs to sit and talk with the leaders of the Teams responsible for Medical, Security, Reconstruction, Agriculture, etc.

Once she'd finally decided to get some rest, falling asleep had been easy. The vibration of the aircraft's powerplants mixed with her exhaustion left her dead to the world in just seconds.

Now, though, Carol unbuckled and carefully made her way to the cockpit. The cargo plane rocked violently in a storm that, to her knowledge, hadn't been expected. Reaching the cockpit, she took the empty seat to which she was gestured and donned a communications headset.

"We were hit by lightning," the Co-Pilot began explaining. "Million-dollar lightning prevention system and still..." He went silent a moment, then continued, "We've lost one engine and might lose another. Communications down. Satellite down. Navigation's haywire. We think we're on a heading of 280 toward Fiji, but honestly, who really knows?"

The Pilot turned to Carol, his face showing his grave concern. He told her bluntly, "Odds are we're looking at a water landing."

Carol sat and watched the three struggle with the plane for several minutes before returning to buckle into her starboard side window seat. The next hour was the longest in her life. Beyond the window, lightning occasionally flashed. Each time, she swore the ocean had risen closer.

Suddenly, the plane performed a hard bank to the left as the Co-Pilot announced, "We have located an island with a long, straight, sandy beach. We're going to try to put the plane down there. All passengers and crew strap in. This is gonna be rough."

The pilot maneuvered his aircraft up, down, left, right, doing his best to line up for the beach that only he and his two flight crew team members could see. Carol was looking across the plane's interior at her people -- most of whom looked even more frightened than she was -- when a flash of lightning on the port side illuminated the silhouette of a mountain peak at roughly the same height of the plane itself.

A moment later, the port wing struck something, the plane jerked violently, then tilted to starboard, and another couple of seconds later -- as Carol looked out to see breaking surf -- the starboard wing met with the sea...

**********************

Carol didn't really experience much more of the landing than that. Something had struck her head, and while she hadn't lost consciousness, her head had been spinning wildly enough to prevent her from truly comprehending what was happening.

"Evacuate the plane! Evacuate the plane!" Carol eventually heard a crew member calling out. "Those not injured help the injured outside and away from the aircraft!"

Carol checked for but didn't find any injuries other than the aching head. She unbuckled and stood, only to topple to the bulkhead when she realized that the plane's fuselage was laying at a serious tilt to starboard. Looking aft, she caught sight of the red and orange glow of fire that stretched down the beach. A moment later, she realized that the reason she could see the flames was that the plane had split in two just after of the upper deck passenger seating area and the rear two-thirds of the plane was somewhere else on the burning beach.

Carol joined the effort to get the injured out of the plane and onto the beach. In doing so, she found that the nose of the plane had pancaked against the tall, steep rock wall. She would learn soon enough that all pilots had been killed.

It was dark and overcast and raining, and understanding their surroundings wasn't easy. At sunrise, they would learn they were at the east end of a long, narrow, shallow, sandy beach. Inland was thick, tropical forest. At the far, west end of the beach were forested hills. And of course, to the south, was the Pacific Ocean.

What was beyond the jungle was of great curiosity and concern to Carol, but the priority now was the injured. Being the Aid Team's Leader, she immediately jumped into action. "Listen up! Everyone, listen up!"

She directed the Medical Team to tend to the injured, obviously, telling the Senior Physician to recruit anyone necessary to help. Everyone else was put to work locating priority cargo from the plane, the beach, or wherever it ended up: food, fresh water, water purification units, medical kits, blankets, tents and tarps, and more were to be found, brought to a safe spot, and utilized as appropriate.

"We need a place to build a camp," Carol told the head of Security, clarifying, "On the beach for now if there is such a place. We don't know what's in the jungle, so ... I'd rather stay out of it for now."

Seeking male and female writers for a total of ~12 characters marooned on an island (current day)

Seeking male and female writers to write 1 or more characters. Proofreading and quality writing a must. There is no minimum length limit to replies: if a couple of lines is all it takes to move the story forward, that works for me. There is no minimum posts per week limit either, though, I do request that you do not hold the story up for the other writers. (Don't take on more characters than you can handle.)

The Premise:

A United Nations airplane delivering supplies, tools, equipment, and personnel to a Pacific Island recently pounded by a hurricane is hit by lightning and loses navigation and communication. The pilot sights an island with a long, wide beach and attempts a landing on it. It is a crash landing; people die, cargo is lost, and the plane is utterly destroyed.

The survivors must learn to survive as they realize that they could be here for quite a long time...

Romantic connections are expected, though, anything more erotic than RPG rules allow must, of course, be fade-to-black or writing in PM.

Feel free to post interest and inquiries here. I am online daily and will get to you asap.

Fantasy story for 1 writer (3-6 characters); VERY simplistic dice rolling game/story

When you say introduction post, do you mean a character sheet or do you just want me to hop right in!

Edit: I would also like to know a bit more about the setting. I like the map, but how much my character know about the world? Is Magic common? Are non-humans common?

@Birdboy

Hey, forget all of this. I have decided to quit RPG. Sorry

"To Wear the Throne"

Melody had instructed the elder of her two Lady's Maids, Haanya, to send Kengetar down to the lake's edge when he and his men finished their work on the trail; she had had some of her things taken to the bank to make her comfortable for a bath and evening of relaxation away from the camp.

She'd expected the work to extend all the way to sunset, though, possibly even lasting until tomorrow or even the day after that. She'd had no idea that Kengetar's workers would clear the trail so unbelievably soon and break for the day.

Because of this, when Haanya led the Sedent down the slope trail to the lake -- not realizing the mistake she was making -- Melody, Frandy, Elbara, and a dozen other women of either Yallan or Sedent origin were still bathing in the lake; they were all naked and in depths that exposed little of their bodies, all of them, or some measure in between; and more than just bathing, they were singing and laughing and playing and splashing and generally having a good time, with little evidence of the differences and recent history between the women of the two enemy Tribes.

Melody had, of course, expected that the women would be finished with their bathing, dressed, and either back to their duties if they had any or relaxing on the blankets spread on the grassy shore, drinking wine and eating a variety of foods already on the blankets.

That, of course, wasn't how things turned out. Haanya had only directed Kengetar to the path, as opposed to leading him there as instructed; her old slave feet and back hurt, and she hadn't wanted to descend the slope, let alone ascend it afterward. Thus, when Kengetar took the last little bend in the trail and the forest parted to reveal the lake, it revealed far more to him than had been intended.

Not by any reason at all, Melody was the first to see Kengetar step out on the rise over the little bulge in the lake in which the fun was being had. She stared up at him for a long moment without any effort to hide herself from him; the Sedent had already seen her curvy, tattooed, and scarred body in the full, so it wasn't like he was seeing anything new about her. She did, however, begin a slow walk through the knee-high water to retrieve her robe and slip it around her, for appearances sake.

Suddenly, one of the other naked women shrieked, then pointed at the barbarian. The reaction by the others was varied: some ran for their own clothing, some dropped downward into the water, hiding their womanly curves; others used their hands and arms to hide their breasts and groins as best they could; and still others simply stood there in the water, either staring at the handsome, fit warrior as if in invitation to him to take in all he could or continuing to splash water on their bodies to rinse away the suds from the expensive soap that Melody had offered one and all.

From the shore upon which she'd arrived, Melody couldn't help but notice that Elbara did nothing to hide herself from Kengetar. The Yallan Lady had come to the conclusion that there was some sort of history between the two Sedents. She contemplated asking Elbara for clarification of the glances the two often shared, but so far she hadn't done so.

When Kengetar looked her way, Melody gestured him to join her on the dozen or so pillows laid out upon a blanket that also featured food and drink.