threetoads

Writing Some Stories Together (MxF | Cyberpunk and Sci-Fi)

This is the first time I'm posting one of these so I apologise if I miss something that's generally expected to be present. I'm always happy to answer and clarify if need be though.

I'm primarily interested in writing in and creating an original Cyberpunk or Sci-Fi setting. I don't really have a particular limit or preference regarding themes, I just wanna write interesting plots with someone and be able to discuss details and ideas OOC.

I should say I'm not particularly interested in faceclaims or writing up character sheets. This is meant to be more of a collaborative story and while we are of course in control of our respective characters, basically everything in between is fair game and so I trust whoever I write with without needlessly second guessing whether what they wrote is consistent with an image or a character sheet. Maybe I'm not explaining that super well but I do hope it makes sense. Or maybe this is the norm here anyway and I've just been led astray by the few ICs I've read.

Some General Ideas

These are by no means final in any way, more of a way for me to better communicate the kinds of stories I'd like to tell with someone.

1. The classic near-ish future Cyberpunk scenario. A job goes wrong, two people are set up or just so happen to be the two 'unlucky' survivors. Wrap it up in some conspiracies, dubious morals and the evergrowing need to become more machine than man.

2. Something a little lighter although I'm not opposed to darker themes in this one either, but this would be a full on far future Sci-Fi or a Sci-Fantasy story. I picture this one as more of an adventure story. Two people meet by chance, get into trouble, solve a mystery or two. Maybe throw in some time travel for good measure (though the kind that's heavy on consequences and repercussions).

A little about me, I'm a guy in my 20s and from Europe. I work most days but I make an active effort to be able to respond at least once a day and while I prefer for my writing partner to be able to do the same I'm also aware that things just do not work out that way and writing under that kind of pressure is the worst kind of writing so honestly communication is all I ask for. I would prefer to write with a female partner but really it's more about matching vibes and writing styles so please don't feel discouraged.

I don't have a minimum on how much needs to be written per response since that's again the wrong kind of pressure for good writing to happen, that's the kind of thing that we can iron out if I haven't already discouraged everyone from responding to this anyway.

Thank you for reading!

P.S. If you do PM me please try to indicate in some way that you've actually read the post, getting a message that literally just says 'Do you want to RP?' makes it seem like I'm being messaged by a spambot.

𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚢 - 𝙰 𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚕𝚎

Definitely interested.

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

snip

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

The prospect of heading outside of Irris had both Arthur and Clark nervous. It seemed funny, in a way, how just a couple of days ago they anxiously smuggled themselves into the city and found themselves in life threatening situation no less than three times. Yet now, with the prospect of returning increasingly uncertain and their journey ahead even more so, the two found themselves walking towards the city gates at a comically slow pace.

Marissa and Morris had sent them off well, with fresh and dried food as well as water and some strawberry wine. Morris had called Arthur over shortly after their conversation with Marissa the night prior, looked the amnesiac up and down and sent him on his way once more. This unusual situation became clearer the following morning when the hulking blacksmith began showing him pieces of armor he had spent all night forging.

"It's not quite enough to make ya a knight but it'll cover what counts, you'd be no good in a full set anyway, too slow, I can tell by lookin' at ya that yer fast." The armor was light but sturdy and it did indeed cover most of the important stuff. Morris did as much as he could with what little time he had, having crafted Arthur a set of arm and leg guards, as well as scalemail that covered his upper body and the waist partially. "Pick any helmet ya like when you leave, most of them'll fit ya just fine." The blacksmith attempted something akin to a pat on the back but instead Arthur found himself clenching his teeth and hoping the man hadn't just dislocated his shoulder.

The gentle clanging of the scales on Arthur's armor was the only thing that filled the silence between him and Clark as they made their way past the fountain now. The sun was still low and most stalls had only just began to lay out their goods. The cricket didn't need to read Arthur's mind to realise something else was going on, that the nerves weren't just from the ridiculous thing they were trying to accomplish, he was nervous too after all, yet he didn't have the heart to bring it up. They had both spent that morning sombre, as if they were leaving family and the more things Marissa packed for them and the more advice Morris gave them the worse they felt. Both had considered staying, both had considered simply saying "We have two of the keys, we can keep them safe right here and no one will get any use out of them for any reason." but neither of them voiced it to the other. Through all the stress and the overwhelming want to stay put, their goal still managed to win over, as though the direction they were headed in was already decided no matter what.

It wasn't until the gates of Irris were fully in sight and far too close to possibly decide to turn back that the silence between the two was broken properly.

Rise of the New Heroes

Kestrel

Kestrel lay back in her hospital bed, feeling her attention get fractured into pieces. She listened to the conversation happening beside her between the giant man and who she previously saw as a shadow with a skull, now apparently a young woman. In the corner of the room the barely audible sounds emanating from the retro looking television were catching her attention too, live aerial shots of Lafayette Financial Tower were being shown as reporters discussed just what could have went on in there.

Ultimately she decided that watching reminders of what had happened not so long ago was not making her situation any better and she focused more on the duo talking beside her, just about catching their introductions. Kestrel turned to face them, the adhesive of the painkiller patch on her back pulled at her skin and she felt herself jump slightly, as if anticipating another bolt of rogue lightning.

"I'm Kestrel...Hi." She waved faintly at Rosaria and Kane. "I...Make things appear? For a while at least."

"Have you guys had your powers very long? It's been a week for me and I'm honestly still not sure any of this is real."

She made an attempt at sitting up to talk better but the pain in her back cancelled that idea immediately. Instead she realised she felt exhausted. Initially blaming it on the pain before remembering that the exhaustion started far, far earlier. She sensed her powers were involved somehow, and she certainly hadn't used them as much throughout the entire week she had them as she did in the last few hours. Delaying sleep felt like the best course of action, she wanted to meet the people she fought side-by-side with first, and not getting any information would make her too restless to sleep anyway.

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

Clark regarded Arthur quizzically and thought for a moment before getting up and standing by the door of their room.

Having heard no sound or stray thought that could indicate danger, he motioned to Arthur to remove something and there was little doubt as to what he meant.

Arthur set out the two keys on a table and the pair watched them briefly. One more ordinary looking but quill sized and intricately crafted with an inlaid pearl, the other far stranger, as if a cursed pirate clutched it right down to his watery grave. Similar in size to the first one but with a purple, coral-like bow and a blade of obsidian that seemed to suck up the light around it.

"You said you didn't know where it was, right?" Clark asked and Arthur nodded.

"And the key you had on you when you woke up on that beach?"

Arthur shrugged. "It was all that I woke up with except for the clothes on my back. I just felt like I shouldn't lose it, but I don't know why. I can't remember anything about it."

The pair flinched at the faint sound of a commotion outside the inn. Someone yelled, two bangs echoed. Then silence. The crowd downstairs was audible again. Arthur found himself nearly diving for the table but relaxed once things seemed to normalise.

"I could feel your mind when you were...Looking for that key and it seemed almost like it wasn't you, you know?" Arthur shook his head.

"It seemed more like you knew exactly what you were looking for and where and what you needed to do to get it. Like a man on a mission." Clark continued. "The only time you really get like that is when you're fighting."

The cricket found himself pacing around the room. The floorboards creaked faintly under the tip-tap of his legs.

"There's another thing. I read Delia's mind earlier. It wasn't exactly clear given the circumstances but...The keys unlock something, obviously. One thing, to be exact. Delia seemed reluctant to let it happen but I find it hard to trust her feelings, even ones she'd never express directly."

"She also seemed pretty smug about knowing that there aren't any more keys left in the city, something Edgar seemingly isn't aware of yet."

Arthur tried to process the information as best as he could. Thoughts flooded his mind and the next course of action seemed unclear once again. He woke up not too long ago knowing essentially nothing and found himself knowing even less than before.

And yet as he took a sip of the blueberry tisane, as if hoping to buy himself time to formulate words, his thoughts were quickly interrupted with a yell that seemed to rattle the inn.

"CRICKET!" It was Morris.

The pair rushed downstairs, having pocketed the keys first, with just enough time to witness Gordon's unconscious body slump on the floor of the Hearth.

"Your very rude friend's been askin' about ya."

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

"Hang on are you guys looking for those keys too?" The guardsman asked in a hushed tone, careful not to attract anymore undue attention.

Arthur and Clark exchanged a glance. Both tilted their heads slightly and the amnesiac made the faintest gesture with just his face towards Geoff. Clark didn't have to read Arthur's mind to understand him and for once Arthur felt like he could read Clark's. The cricket capped off the wordless conversation with a nod.

"Geoff I don't suppose you could...Distract him? We only need a short while. I'll explain as best as I can once we're out, I promise." Geoff froze for a moment and regarded Arthur and Clark briefly before changing almost instantly. He snapped his posture straight and was now standing half a head taller than before. His overall demeanor morphed from that of a curious companion to that of a man on a mission. He pushed past the duo and headed straight for the small guardsman outside.

"Excuse me!" He began. "When was the last time this place was inspected by the city guard?"

The Amnesiac and the Cricket heard some fumbling and the voices from outside the hall faded. They didn't have a lot of time.

Clark almost instinctively leapt behind the velvet divider and scrambled for the shimmering thing he saw earlier. A light trick. A near blinding shine reflecting from the fake oyster with a fake pearl placed near the (presumably) fake merson. Meticulously polished marble seated in equally meticulously chiseled stone.

Not wanting to waste any time, Arthur climbed over the divider and began inspecting the merson. For all the fakery surrounding it, the horror show in front of him seemed very much real. The stench certainly was. There were no pockets on the creature. No logical, obvious, easy to access key storage.

Arthur felt disturbed by how quickly he had jumped to the idea of searching the merson's esophagus though his concern was quickly replaced by the feeling of disgust as he forced his hand through the sludge in its throat. Clark simply watched. Unsure of what to do and unwilling to read Arthur's mind at this particular moment.

The man laughed quietly under his nose. Realising just how ridiculous his idea had been.

And then he felt it. Clark saw the look on his face changed immediately and watched as his friend pulled out half a bucketful of sludge and...A key. This one made of a rough, coral-like material at its bow and polished, uncannily black obsidian for its blade. The duo stared at it, then glanced at each other.

"Did you know where it was?" Clark asked. Arthur shook his head.

"I just...We should go."

Rise of the New Heroes

Kestrel

With the searing pain still burning fresh through her back, Kestrel scrambled herself back up to almost standing with the help of one of the police officers. She found herself leaning against the wall by the entrance to the lobby, attempting to take in her surroundings. It seemed as though everyone was safe though she had no sight on the woman she tried to protect earlier. She wasn't sure what to think, despite the worst scenario coming to mind faster than anything else. Her gaze turned upwards, trying to focus on the night sky, as if to salvage some respite from this awful day.

Then a voice broke through her inattention, one she thought she had hallucinated at first given that it couldn't possibly belong to the shadowy being.

"Still, I can probably help one or two of you walk if that's necessary. Or help carry this unconscious girl here... If I remember correctly, Jefferson Hospital isn't that far away from here. We should make it there pretty quickly even by walking..."

Kestrel pushed herself away from the wall and limped over towards the talking shadow. Her landing earlier had brought its own pain it seemed.

"It really would be safest if we went as a group. I'm not sure any of us are in a state to fight anything else tonight should anything happen."

"And...I want to say thank you for getting me out of there. Everything got kind of out of control."

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

Without thinking twice and while silently cursing under his breath for missing Clark's warnings, Arthur grabbed the back of Delia's chair and pulled it sharply, causing the now ethereal looking woman to topple backwards with some grace as she instinctively broke the fall with a roll. Arthur wasn't sure if the sword that had cut the air where her head was just a second ago would have dealt any damage but creating distance for their employer felt like a priority.

Clark stood frozen in place. He knew he had to help his friend, and the awareness that he could not jump away anywhere significant had not left him either. He wasn't a fighter. He had no sword. He knew all these things but it was far too late for cowardice. Someone was going to die in this basement and he really didn't want it to be him or his friend.

Across the table, the Chief spewed commands at his men while retreating behind them. Arthur quickly realised Edgar was already nowhere to be seen and a cursory glance around the room suggested he had somehow managed to flee. His unusual henchmen, on the other hand, had stayed behind and were getting ready to attack.

Fueled by desperation or some kind of insect adrenaline, Clark launched himself at the Chief's unnamed guardsman and thumped against his chest with a thud, sending him tumbling backwards into a crate, narrowly avoiding the Chief. The cricket landed on the floor and having felt Geoff's intention to swing his sword in his direction, he glared viciously at the red haired guard who only just seemed to recognise who he was dealing with.

Without so much as a sound, as if they had done it countless times before, Gordon and Roland prepared themselves. In what was one of the more unusual sights Arthur had seen in the last day, the stocky henchman had compacted himself into spiked ball. "I would suggest you duck!" He heard Delia's voice and had just barely enough time to process it. Gordon, despite being handicapped by his height in the basement, took a single step back from Roland and kicked.

Arthur threw himself on the ground as the spiked man-ball whizzed over his head and embedded itself into the wall behind him loudly. With little time to acknowledge the absurdity of the situation and pick himself up off the floor, Arthur swung and kicked at metal as he felt himself be picked up by Gordon.

"What are you looking at you idiot? KILL THE BUG!" The Chief roared at Geoff, to which the confused guardsman responded by taking up his sword and shield properly...And facing the Chief. The old man rubbed his face and grumbled under his nose. "...hanged. I'll have you hanged for this." Slamming his visor shut, the Chief simply turned away and stormed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Arthur continued to struggle against the giant man's grip. Gordon had him locked firmly by the throat and, despite the ease with which he could crush it, Arthur was confused as to why he kept delaying. It took just a few seconds as the henchman turned him around to realise just what the plan was. The amnesiac watched the short thug detach himself from the wall and re-enter his metal egg. He began rolling towards Arthur.

As Delia's barrier waned, she figured her chances of getting out of the basement alive in her current predicament would be higher if her helpers weren't dead. And here she hoped this would be a deal like any other. The casino owner picked up her chair and swung it directly in the direction of Gordon's head. The deafening twang inside the man's helmet caused him to loosen his grip over Arthur, allowing the amnesiac to kick his legs up while the rolling ball of doom crashed into Gordon's shins, knocking the two men to the ground.

Geoff pulled Clark out of the way of the diverted Roland and watched as the spiked ball sped towards and over the unconscious guardsman before the spikes pierced their way through his chest armor. A loud squish and grunt filled the dank basement and then...Silence. Arthur picked himself up off the ground and, without taking his eyes off Delia, removed the unconscious Gordon's sword and scabbard.

"Now," he began. "you have some explaining to do."

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

On the outside, The Homely Hearth looked like any other inn. Aged, evidently popular and radiating the warm glow of a fire from within. Inside however was a different story. The place was inexplicably clean. Orna had mentioned her friend's cleanliness though it appeared this extended to the entirety of the premises. What seemed more surprising to Arthur and Clark however was just how civilized it was inside. Nearly every table occupied, tankards of ale and strawberry wine regularly filled and emptied and yet the atmosphere inside was relaxed. No yelling, no fighting, just murmurs of conversation and Marissa's cackling laughter as she joked with various patrons. Arthur could sense the apprehension melt from Clark when they both realised that barely anyone had even cared to glance in their direction when they walked in, and those that did immediately returned their attention back to their respective conversations. Unfazed.

As they approached the bar, it soon became clear just why there were no signs of aggression to be seen at the Hearth. A hulking man bounded towards the pair to greet them. A man nearly twice Arthur's size and hands big enough to comfortably grab him by the head. Arthur realised he was staring just a moment too late.

"Don't s'pose you're wanting to order some poison son or are you not quite right in that head of yours?" The man's voice boomed.

"If only you knew..." Arthur thought but bit his tongue. He could hear Clark let out the faintest chuckle.

"Actually we were told to ask for Marissa, I assume that's..?" He gestured at the cheerful woman at the other end of the bar.

"My wife, aye. First tankard of strawberry ale's free 'cause I can tell you boys have never been here before." The man motioned at his wife and stepped away to prepare two tankards while Marissa waddled over. Arthur and Clark both noticed just how similar she was to Orna both in stature and size.

Clark scrambled to prop himself up on the bar stool in order to see the woman behind the bar. "Lady Marissa, your friend Orna told us we could rent a room for the night here?" Clark barely finished his sentence before the howl of the woman's laughter filled the air.

"And you listened to that old hag?" The amnesiac and the cricket exchanged glances, not fully sure how to respond.

"Oh come on I'm just messing, you found the right place. Though you'll probably be needing a doctor more than a bed if any of you tried any of Orna's cursed vegetables..." The concern that rapidly formed on Clark's face faded just as quickly as it came once the room erupted in laughter once more.

"Morris will you hurry up with that wine?" The woman snarked. "That man knows how to work a forge but you put him behind a bar and he's like a lost child I swear." As the woman conversed with Clark, Arthur found himself admiring the place. It really did feel homely. Safe. Familiar almost. His memory was still an endless haze but he could feel his mind tugging at threads. It had been a long day and Arthur hoped that finally getting some actual sleep would alleviate his issue.

"...room with two beds, put up a coin and it's yours 'til morning." Arthur felt present again. He reached into his pocket and placed a shiny gold coin on the bar despite Clark's clear insistence on paying. "Next time." He nudged the cricket.

The duo thanked Marissa and after some scouting for an empty table they settled near the fire, tankards of warm strawberry wine in hand. The remainder of the night was uninterrupted, something both Clark and Arthur felt was almost impossible at this point. The day had dragged on and this moment of respite made Arthur finally realise just how much had happened in one day. Between waking up with nothing but clothes and a key to his name on a beach and overpowering an amphibian foe far stronger than him, he wasn't sure whether to dread or anticipate the following day. A sentiment Clark shared.

The cricket knew he had to agree to the bodyguard work for his friend. Despite having no combat experience and minimal prior dealings with conspicuous casino proprietors, Clark felt compelled to help someone who a little over half a day ago had been a complete stranger to him.

Falling asleep at The Homely Hearth was easy and with strawberry wine in their bellies and a week's worth of experiences condensed into a single day behind them, Clark and Arthur found it easier than most.