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Recent Statuses

8 mos ago
Current Been a busy couple of days, will be getting RP replies out tomorrow!
9 mos ago
Sorry for my brief absence! I bought Helldivers II and promptly forgot about real life for several days while spreading (managed) democracy 🪲🤖🗽
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9 mos ago
Re-inventing myself, AKA dyeing my hair and revamping my wardrobe in order to feel alive again
4 likes
9 mos ago
Finally home! Gonna get a nap in and then work on replies :)
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9 mos ago
RP partners! I will be travelling from Thursday through Sunday of this week to visit family, and may not reply any of those days, depending. Sorry in advance!
2 likes

Bio


give me all the vampire romance RPs


Hello, friends!

I'm Lettie! I'm a 27-year-old lady living in Wisconsin with my wonderful husband, two cats, and a flock of chickens.

I'm a bit of an RPG veteran; I joined somewhere between 2010-2011 (before the Guildfall of 2015), and spent many of my teenage years on this site, frequenting the Spam forum (see: racking up infraction points) or relentlessly refreshing the page, waiting on RP replies.

Not much has changed.

I've been quite on-and-off in my activity here over the years (err, decades. God, I'm old.), but with the way life is going currently, I'm hoping to become a semi-permanent fixture around here once more!

While I enjoy the occasional group RP, I am a big sucker for a good romance, which doesn't always translate well there. (I am also victim to the Group RP Curse: they get abandoned pretty quickly in my experience.) Therefore, you'll most likely find me in a series of 1x1s.

I like to think of myself as a high-casual/low-advanced writer. I think I could certainly exceed that if necessary, but the RPs I tend to participate in often only require 3-7 paragraphs to get the point across, however detailed, rather than a short novel. Not that I'm opposed, but I'm no Dickens -- I'm not going to make the description of the tip of a pen last 6 pages if I don't feel like it adds anything to the story.

I am all about ~the vibes~. I will make playlists, AI fan art, Pinterest moodboards, etc. involving our characters. I'll find gifs and images that resemble the settings, to add visual appeal. I like to go back and format my posts so they're more aesthetically pleasing. I am a gushy person and fall in love with the stories rather easily. If you'd rather I didn't share these things with you, let me know!

When I'm not spamming the refresh button here, I can usually be found with my nose in a book, or playing video games (think more Animal Crossing and TLOZ, less COD or Overwatch and the like). I'm a software engineer, though I'm on a bit of a sabbatical at the moment, so I guess I'm more of a stay-at-home wife.

My 1x1 Interest Check can be found here.

I like to think I'm a pretty friendly and open person, so if you'd like to bring an RP idea to my attention, or just chat and tell me about your day (or send me pictures of your cats), my DMs are always open! I'm also happy to add folks on other socials and make friends!

Most Recent Posts

Hey there, I'd be super interested in getting something going with you! I'm 27F as well, in the states, ~15 years experience, and usually write somewhere between Casual and Low Advanced!

There are SO MANY of your ideas listed that I'm interested in! I'll just list a few and if we wanna go with whatever you like most, I'll be pleased :)
- Ranch & Farm life, maybe combined with a forbidden love or enemies to lovers or family saga trope?
- Wild West or American Colonial or Civil War era, honestly could go anywhere with these. Nomadic lifestyle, crime family, culture clash, etc.
- Serial Killers - down for anything with this!
- Arranged marriage - down for anything with this as well!

I have no preference between playing male or female, I'm happy to take on whatever you're not as partial to! I'm totally fine with using Discord, and I am big on OOC chat to spin ideas, gush, talk about vibes and inspiration, etc.
Lyra listened intently as Finrod recounted his experience, her brow furrowing in confusion at the mention of The Blades and the Sky Haven Temple. "I'm not sure I've heard of those things before..." she admitted, embarassed by her lack of knowledge, "Could you... explain a bit more?"

She couldn't help but feel disappointed that their visions weren't the same. She had hoped that perhaps they would have seen similar things, that it would provide some sort of clarify. But now, it all just felt even more confusing. Why us? Why now?

Her gaze flickered up to meet Finrod's for a moment, noticing the tear that he quickly wiped away. She pretended not to notice, casting her eyes downward and feeling a wave of discomfort. It was clear that this man had been through a lot, and she felt a twinge of guilt for intruding on his life like this.

"I saw something different," she confessed finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "Visions of my own past... a moonlit ruins that seemed to lead into a dungeon, and strange symbols that I didn't understand." She shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. "I don't know what any of it means, but I was hoping... maybe our visions were connected somehow."

She hesitated another moment, unsure of how to continue. But then, summoning her courage, she spoke again. "The voice in my vision... it told me that you are essential to my 'journey', whatever that means." She let out a nervous laugh, attempting to lighten the mood. "So I guess we're stuck with each other, huh? At least for now."
Lyra followed Finrod to the clearing, her cheeks still tinged with embarrassment over her failed attempt at healing magic. Note to self: practice that more, she scolded herself inwardly, resolving to hone her skills once she had some privacy and access to some magic books.

She ignored Finrod's nod toward her own log near his, plopping herself right next to him on his, and waved off his compliment with a self-deprecating grin, her cheeks flushing once more. "Oh, that? It was nothing, really..." she muttered, her gaze flickering nervously to the ground.

Her attention was drawn to Finrod as he effortlessly conjured flames with a flick of his hand, a display of power that left her in awe. I wish I could do that, she thought wistfully, suppressing the urge to ask him to teach her.

"So, a fellow member of the magic arts?"

She nodded, determined to impress him and alleviate her former mistake, holding up a finger for him to be patient while she closed her eyes and focused on her next spell, her brow furrowing once more with concentration.

With a flourish of her hand, she attempted to cast Raise Zombie, a spell she had practiced extensively on small animals in the past. However, her confidence faltered as she sensed the presence of the nearby dead rabbit, and her spell went awry. The bones of the dead rabbit she had chosen raised from the ground before them and rearranged themselves in a grotesque manner, a shape nowhere near what a rabbit should look like, with all the parts in the wrong places. Then, the creature released an agonized screech, collapsing to the ground in a heap and eliciting a horrified gasp from Lyra.

Great, she thought, her cheeks burning. He definitely thinks I'm an idiot now.

But there was no time to dwell there, as she watched Finrod closely, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "We can't avoid the topic forever,' she said, her voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "You saw something too, didn't you? Tell me what it was."
Relief washed over Lyra at Finrod's playful tone, breaking through the somber face he'd been wearing in all the hours she'd known him. So there's a spark of life in him after all, she mused, a small grin tugging at her lips.

The climb proved to be more exhilarating than Lyra had anticipated. She felt a surge of pride as she navigated the rugged terrain, her agile movements betraying the grace and strength honed through months of survival in the wild. When a slippery patch threatened to send her tumbling, she gritted her teeth and dug her fingers into the rock, determination fueling her ascent.

Her laughter bubbled up at the sight of Finrod's own clumsy slip, but it was quickly tempered by concern when she saw him wince in pain. Without a second thought, when they reached the top of their climb, Lyra knelt beside him, ready to inspect his injured arm. Her hands hovered for a moment, uncertain -- would touching him send us into another vision? -- before she finally, decisively, took hold of it, her touch gentle.

As she attempted to channel the healing magic she had learned years ago, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she focused her energy on easing his discomfort. Come on Lyra, you can do this, she urged herself, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her clumsy attempt.

When Finrod mentioned the clearing, Lyra followed his gaze, her eyes widening in awe at the serene landscape spread out before them. The moonlight, just making its way above the horizon, danced on the water, casting shimmering reflections that seemed to beckon them onward. So this is his sanctuary, she thought, a flicker of curiosity mingling with gratitude as she pondered the significance of this place to him.

With a nod of determination, Lyra rose to her feet, offering Finrod a reassuring smile. "Lead the way," she said, her voice resolute. A secret place that he's kept all to himself, for gods know how long. What else will he reveal?
As they approached the rock slope, the majestic roar of the waterfall echoed in the distance. The fading light of the setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, bathing everything in a warm, ethereal glow. Despite everything, it was beautiful. It had been so long since she'd taken a moment to appreciate her surroundings -- she was so used to being forced to survive against the forces of nature, she didn't often have time to gawk at it.

"It's okay," she replied softly to Finrod's apology, "We all have our secrets." And our burdens, she added silently, the weight of her own past heavy on her shoulders.

But as Finrod asked if she was ready for the climb, Lyra's eyes widened in disbelief. Ready for the WHAT? she echoed inwardly, a mixture of dread and amusement bubbling up inside her. Climb? Her hands suddenly felt fragile and soft compared to the weathered ones of her companion. She'd spent her life becoming a swift fighter, and surviving the worst that nature could throw at her, but she'd luckily avoided scaling any mountainsides. She supposed to day was the day her luck ran out. She sighed, accepting her fate. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Lyra wasn't appreciating the persistent probing, and the weight of his scrutiny was beginning to wear her down. What does he want from me, my whole damn life story? It all started when I was born... She wanted to throw her hands up in defeat, but chose to just ignore his persistence.

The sound of rushing water grew louder as they came to cross the river, its soothing melody crashing through the tension that hung between them. Why did I tell him all of that, anyway? Lyra's eyes flickered back to Finrod's face. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, a mirror of her own uncertainties, that gave her pause.

"We should keep going... We are close," he said, his voice breaking through her thoughts, his attempt to change the subject not lost on her. He's hiding something too, Lyra confirmed to herself, a flicker of understanding passing between them.

"Right," she replied simply, her tone guarded as she fell into step beside him once more.
Hey there! I'd be super interested in RPing potentially -- would you consider mixing the Vampire x Human + age gap? I know this is a given with immortality but I get kind of sick of seeing all the vampire romances that always seem to include a vampire male who looks like he's 17 forever, lol. I would happily play a male role, and I'm totally happy with either a medieval or a modern setting! I know my activity around here doesn't have a ton of history, but I'm happy to send some writing samples as needed. I tend to sit right around High Casual / Low Advanced, depending on what's going on -- pacing varies, especially in dialog when we might not need 7000 thoughts while waiting on the next line. Whatever makes the most sense.

If you wanna know, I'm female, in my late twenties, live in the US, and have RP'd on and off for 15+ years! I'm all about brainstorming plotlines together, and I'm happy to be told if any of my ideas are stupid, so don't worry about me getting offended and running off 😅 Let me know!
The bridge ahead marked a symbolic crossing for Lyra, a threshold leading a few more yards East, in the direction of Windhelm, which she'd left so hastily. She suppressed a shiver at the mere thought, the memories of the hardships she'd faced still fresh in her mind, even from this distance.

As they approached the bridge, Lyra noticed Finrod's occasional lapses into silence, his gaze drifting into the distance as if lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts. Good, she mused, more time to gather my own thoughts.

When Finrod broke the silence with another pointed question, Lyra couldn't resist a wry smile. "I could ask the same of you," she retorted playfully. "Not many High Elves roaming Skyrim these days, are there?" She said it softly, though even she noticed that the jest held a tinge of bitterness beneath its surface. She wished she understood more about herself, and about her companion -- what was it that separated them from the rest?

But as the humor faded, Lyra's thoughts turned inward, the weight of Finrod's question bearing down on her like a leaden cloak. Why am I here? she wondered, the question echoing internally, What good is my life? What purpose do I serve?

"I... I suppose I came here for a chance at a better life," she admitted, her voice a bit melancholic. "My family... they worked so hard to give me that chance. But..." They're gone, she thought sadly, not finishing the rest out loud. Sometimes, I wish I wasn't here at all.

Lost in her thoughts, Lyra took a few more steps before realizing that Finrod had stopped in his tracks. She gasped, her heart quickening its pace as she met his gaze, realizing how close they were now. There was something different about him, something that set him apart from the men she had encountered before. If anything, the odd part was his seeming utter disinterest in her, she realized with both appreciation and annoyance. She faced him still, standing at the threshold of their journey.
With each step they took, the distance between them and the safety of Whiterun seemed to stretch further, the sounds of the city fading into the distance until all that remained was the eerie silence of the wilderness. Lyra’s heart raced, her senses on high alert as her mind raced with a thousand possibilities of what could go wrong. Where is he taking me? she wondered, her eyes darting nervously around their surroundings.

As they veered off the beaten path, Lyra’s unease only grew, the absence of any signs of civilization amplifying her sense of vulnerability. What if he’s leading me into a trap? she thought, her fingers dancing over the handle of her mace. Despite her best efforts to push the intrusive thoughts aside, she couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that clawed at her mind, whispering of all the horrors that might befall a lone traveler in the wilderness.

Glancing again at Finrod, she couldn’t help but notice the subtle tension that lingered in the air between them, a silent acknowledgement of the danger that may lurk in the shadows. She knew he could easily best her in combat if he chose, by sheer size alone, but she couldn’t shake the inexplicable sense of trust that tugged her on, compelling her to follow him further into the unknown.

“What brought me to Whiterun?”, Lyra echoed, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she grappled with how much to reveal. Why indeed? Her thoughts drifted back to the events that had led her to this moment, but it was too much to bear herself, let alone to declare willy-nilly to a man she’d just met. She settled on, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”. Stupid, Lyra! Stupid!

Despite her reservations, she couldn’t ignore the sense of camaraderie between the pair, fragile a thread as it was. Their shared uncertainty — and maybe fear — drove them forward.

With each passing moment, Lyra found herself torn between the instinctual need to protect herself, and the inexplicable desire to trust Finrod. “He is vital to your journey,” the voice had said. Lyra didn’t like the idea of relying on some guy for everything, even if he didn’t seem to mean her any harm. The fragile tendrils of trust wove their way through the cracks in her defenses, but deep down, she knew that trusting him could be the very thing that led to her downfall.
In the crisp night air, Lyra felt a weight lift from her shoulders, the suffocating atmosphere of the tavern giving way to a sense of liberation. The cool breeze brushed against her skin, refreshing after the warmth of the crowded inn, offering a moment of respite from the chaos that had unfolded within.

Glancing around, Lyra noted with a mixture of relief and frustration that the streets were considerably emptier than before, the hustle and bustle of midday now replaced by a quieter serenity. Yet, the lingering presence of a few lingering passerby served as a start reminder of their lack of privacy, a barrier to the candid conversation she knew they needed to have.

As Finrod suggested a walk outside the city's walls, Lyra's initial reaction was one of reluctance. Out there? she thought, her grip tightening on the strap of her pack. Away from the safety of Whiterun? I just got here. But even as her instincts screamed for caution, she knew that she couldn't stay hidden within the city's confines forever. With a resigned nod, she acquiesced, her mind already racing with contingency plans should their excursion take a turn for the worse.

As they began to walk, Lyra stole a sidelong glance at Finrod, her eyes tracing the contours of his face. Tall and imposing, with a square jaw and golden hair that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, he exuded an otherworldly aura that both intrigued and unsettled her. Who are you, really? she wondered, her gaze lingering on the faint scars that marred his skin, creeping out from beneath the collar of his tunic, a testament to the trials he had surely endured.

Despite her curiosity, Lyra remained guarded, keeping her distance as they walked, the silence between them punctuated only by the rhythmic sound of their footsteps on the cobblestone path. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not yet. After all, they were still strangers, only bound together by a shared experience that defied explanation. And until she knew more about him, she would keep it that way.
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