Avatar of Meliant de Lys
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    1. Meliant de Lys 6 yrs ago

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I run things from time to time, and exclusively write smut.

Maybe we can do something.

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I was paid 5 dollars to post here.
When it stops implying other people. Role-playing is a social activity, that is, involves 2 or more people. For this to happen there must be some degree of vagueness where both may contribute to it. Therefore, the main idea or pitch the first person had will invariably mutate with the input from seconds. The one person that had the RP idea does no longer have full editorial control over where the roleplay goes.

I am reminded of a poster in the forum of the infamous hacker known as 4chan. This gentleman had a very elaborate map he liked to show around, and also spoke lengthily of his plans about his setting. It all begged the question: when do the players come in? How do you turn this into a role-playing game? The poster then admitted that it was never the plan; this was to be a book. So I suppose that until the idea becomes too elaborate for other people to have casual input. It stops being a role-playing idea when there's no common language. A wiser man than I wrote about this. I'll link him here once I can. Edit: monstersandmanuals.blogspot.com/2021/…

Of course, in truth a novel, book or comic will have more than one person working on it on an official capacity. I imagine here the difference is a certain asymmetry between them, while a group of roleplayers is much more symmetrical.
cool yiff!!!!!!!!
Like hounds these grandmasters were, for when the White Queen called them superior, they nearly snapped right back in anger, but alas, every hound submits to a higher force; this flower of Ascendant youth were silenced with two words.

"I am Soaring Sunrise, master over the Sky Fist Sect!" said him, the oh-so-loud young man of a fearsome visage. "And in this, I say we speak as one!" His fellow sect-leaders would agree, "Your attempts to tame us are laughable, queen! If you defeat us in the tournament, we shall be there! And if not, then I laugh at you, for your city will be ours, as it already is!"

Soaring Sunrise turned away, leaving through a hole in the wall, his sect following. One by one these little gangsters left the field of battle. The only one that remained is Unfettered Serpent, with no small uncertainty. As many before her, she suddenly turns dour and timid when her fellows have left her. Words were stuck in her throat, words that Iko, the Blade that Sings, ached to spill forth.

Bloodily, if you catch my meaning. It was well known, I say, that she's rather short on patience, particularly for disrespect.
Les... boissons? What manner of word was that, wondered Unfettered Serpent. The young girl's eyes were narrowed, much like a serpent poised to strike, but ah, a fool she'd be if she dared strike the Empress now, no? Ha! The strike was one of doubt, and deep down, is there any blow worse than doubt?

By what right did a foreigner rule this city? The side of this outsider she took, for Serpent herself was one, and that uncomfortable truth dawned on her as she gazed back to her own crowd. Once fiery, the girl now was sullen, in a manner much reminiscent of a certain lad. Lad? No, man now.

"Hahaha! I sup... with nobody! Speak your condition, o' empress, not to me, but to us all. In the world of martials art, jianghu, we are all equal." All on his side agreed over these wise words, their spirit renewed; for they were a brotherhood that surpassed blood and lineage. This was a brotherhood of ability!
Nice.
That was an offer not lightly given.

For the White Queen, Alexsasha of Ascension, daughter of the Sun At His Zenith is no lesser in the arts of warfare. Like a puissant painter, like a calligrapher drawing beautiful curves in black, she made of war her gift.

Yet... in Ascension, one's ancestors were a person's letter of introduction, a measure of their worth. The way of Lucille's warrior-ancestors, although known to us... is foreign to them. Alas, one of the girls was valiant, and dared into the unknown. "I'll take you up in that!" said her, and none else.

In the back of the chamber, one man laughed. "Does the Alexsasha know finesse in combat, however? It is said you fight with a blade most uncouth, but what about your body? Can that be turned into a weapon, asks I? Steel is not the way of our great Schools! Take her, good queen, take Unfettered Serpent, train her, and we'll see how much she measures up to our apprentices!"

"In the Descending Wood Tournament!"
Thus quoth the queen, and thus did the youth of her country snarl at her. "Yet, it is widely known that an army under your banner can live weeks on nothing but air!" It seemed like he would speak more, for his mouth lingered open like a taut bow drawn. The arrow he was going to fire, metaphorically, was stolen from him.

"It is that you fear battle, o' queen," said the fiery girl, "for you have lost your edge."

A silence fell upon the chamber like a blanket. An itchy one, doubtlessly you know the type. The redheaded Airfolk's gaze was strong, brave, not unlike the Zenith's own. Her arms were crossed, tensed against her chest. Chin high, brow furrowed in that silent dare, spoken only between warriors.

"Should I..."
began Iko, her words nearly a whisper, "uh, you know, strike her down for impertinence?"
I'm really goddamn nervous right now.
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