Relias_
Rose tea tastes good sometimes
'Love at first sight'
Something simple and often overlooked words, naive and too fairytale'ish.
But why not indulge in such romance? A gentle pursue of love that stems from such naive thought.
Hello, I'm mainly looking for. . . "Gentleman, yet dominant lover.(top)" To fall in love at first sight with Fidel, to court him properly so we can both giggle and kick our feet at the blossoming romance as he learns to open up to the feeling of being cherished and loved.
Something simple and often overlooked words, naive and too fairytale'ish.
But why not indulge in such romance? A gentle pursue of love that stems from such naive thought.
Hello, I'm mainly looking for. . . "Gentleman, yet dominant lover.(top)" To fall in love at first sight with Fidel, to court him properly so we can both giggle and kick our feet at the blossoming romance as he learns to open up to the feeling of being cherished and loved.
What lengths would you go for love?
Especially one where both your mind and soul suddenly engulfed in something so intense - it cannot be described or mistaken in any other way than pure unbridled love. When your whole existence suddenly set alight in such a short amount of time as though you had just now realized how intense passion can be.
Should the one who caused this feeling within you be harmed in one way or another - what length would you go, to keep him safe?
Fidel requires stability, coming from a family of wanderers, he craves a grounding life, a complete opposite of his past.
Will you let your character be the home he craved? Hold him tight under the covers as the moon and stars decorate the sky? Reassure him in his times of need and ensures his heart will not be left to bleed should conflict arise?
I would say your character can be of any high rank within the Noble/Royal/Military positions
As Wanderer or Traveler unfortunately would not suit Fidel.
I am a fairytale storyteller at heart, so be prepared for the most fluff, cliche scenes one can imagine. So I'm looking for someone of similar interests, romance, cliche, fluff, actions, some angst but I hope not too much, my heart can't take it.
In regards to angst regarding romance (miscommunication, Fidel seeing your oc being flirted with and your oc kinda playing along with the advances) - if it's not addressed in a few replies, or in a few days time in the rp, I don't want it. This RP is specifically for soft love, commitment to 'love at first sight', if your OC isn't the type to reassure Fidel right there and then like a gentle, dominant man. I don't want it.
However please be at least 18 of age, as there will be mature topic discussed involving real world issues to fit the theme of world building as we go.
I love talking about potential plot, future plots and what is currently going on in the roleplay. Playing as multiple characters are always encouraged as it helps making the world feel lived in, be it ordinary npcs or other staff, or a friend coming to visit. So I hope we can talk OOC often to help establish where we are in the roleplay and how to move scenes along.
I mostly write multiple paragraphs. But we can do smaller scale when they're just talking to one another. Of course literacy is needed, I'm not an expert either but I do hope there will be efforts from both of us.
I however, am strict with appearance since I'm a sucker for handsome faces. Please make sure the art and style you use at least fit mine/or is proper so it's not too jarring to imagine them both together. My imagination is quite vivid - if you cannot find proper image then a detailed description will do!
I prefer to talk ooc over discord! Easier to rapid fire ideas and plots, but we can talk here too if you don't have it or prefer here, it's not a strict requirement.
In regards to angst regarding romance (miscommunication, Fidel seeing your oc being flirted with and your oc kinda playing along with the advances) - if it's not addressed in a few replies, or in a few days time in the rp, I don't want it. This RP is specifically for soft love, commitment to 'love at first sight', if your OC isn't the type to reassure Fidel right there and then like a gentle, dominant man. I don't want it.
However please be at least 18 of age, as there will be mature topic discussed involving real world issues to fit the theme of world building as we go.
I love talking about potential plot, future plots and what is currently going on in the roleplay. Playing as multiple characters are always encouraged as it helps making the world feel lived in, be it ordinary npcs or other staff, or a friend coming to visit. So I hope we can talk OOC often to help establish where we are in the roleplay and how to move scenes along.
I mostly write multiple paragraphs. But we can do smaller scale when they're just talking to one another. Of course literacy is needed, I'm not an expert either but I do hope there will be efforts from both of us.
I however, am strict with appearance since I'm a sucker for handsome faces. Please make sure the art and style you use at least fit mine/or is proper so it's not too jarring to imagine them both together. My imagination is quite vivid - if you cannot find proper image then a detailed description will do!
I prefer to talk ooc over discord! Easier to rapid fire ideas and plots, but we can talk here too if you don't have it or prefer here, it's not a strict requirement.
Copper Bar, frankly it is just another establishment in the Capital owned by a noble, as such the patrons are often wealthy folks seeing information and trading gossips under the guise of a night out with friends.
Fidel, who works as a bartender and occasional lounge singer at the Bar for nearly a year now, had learned to tune out potential conversations between the nobles as merely white noise. His emerald eyes trained to not make any eye contact with customers unless they addresses him first to mix a drink of their choice.
He had gotten the job during his first few weeks in the Capital - since he had refused to use the skills learned over the years where he lived with his family, Fidel learned the art of mixology from scratch. Occasionally though, there would be requests from customers specifically for him to preform on stage but only on days where the usual contracted singers are unable to attend work.
He is not that much of a fool to not notice the difference in atmosphere these last couple of weeks, the nobles are on edge and shifty for whatever reason. Although he lived in the Capital - Fidel has no desire to try and understand its internal complexity when it comes to tension between noble houses. As long as they pay him the hours he worked , he does not care.
But, if he have a choice, he'd rather not see those men with their mistresses sucking face and being all clingy. Infidelity of any sort makes his skin itch, if possible he wish to switch workplace. . .
Copper Bar has three level, the first floor for new patrons, second floor for regular customers to lounge and converse, while the third floor are for private meetings and information trading. The usage of this bar is not exactly public but it is not private either, he had worked here long enough to pick up minor details such as those.
Beneath crystal chandelier hung from white marble ceiling and soft flickering mana fueled lights for ambiance - Fidel stood behind his assigned bar on the first floor, at the moment the stools in front of him are currently empty. Lights reflects against ornamental glass cups as well as bottles filled with various colored liquor upon rows of shelves behind him cast a multicolored light akin to stained glass upon his figure.
The suit he wore are simple assigned black slacks, white dress shirt and grey blazer, he had forgo the jacket - instead it is neatly folded and set inside one of the bar's empty cabinet below the counter.
The fair-skinned man busied himself with taking dried glasses off their racks and organizing themselves into their respective drawers, gloved hands cleaning his workstation, wiping down the counter's surface ensuring no speck of dust could be seen on it and putting away knives used to cut fruits back into their holders.
Both hands on the counter - the bartender's left hand held a cloth used to wipe the counter. Fidel tilts his head up, a small sigh escapes his lips as he let his emerald gaze lingers up at the chandelier, night shift are always the worst.
It all happened far too fast then. The double door swung open with more force than needed, followed by a loud bang, shocked screams and confused nonsense from patrons, and the bartender finds himself working on instinct alone. Pushing himself up and over the counter, leaping over the wooden surface.
Had Fidel been just a few seconds slower - he would have been skewered by the falling chandelier, the chains holding it had been shot clean, sending the heavy object crashing down in its crystalized glory shattered to pieces and unfortunately the impact sends shrapnel of crystal and glass all over, some even dug into his back.
Footsteps rushed into the bar, heavy boots thudding against titled flooring, loud shouting of commands over terrified souls.
A coordinated attack, from rebels?
Pushing himself up off of the floor from his less than graceful landing, Fidel's only thought is to run but a firm grasp around his arm yanked him back in a near bone crushing grip, he could feel a cold, sharp metal against this neck - no way.
He is just a worker here. Why must he die too?
Fidel, who works as a bartender and occasional lounge singer at the Bar for nearly a year now, had learned to tune out potential conversations between the nobles as merely white noise. His emerald eyes trained to not make any eye contact with customers unless they addresses him first to mix a drink of their choice.
He had gotten the job during his first few weeks in the Capital - since he had refused to use the skills learned over the years where he lived with his family, Fidel learned the art of mixology from scratch. Occasionally though, there would be requests from customers specifically for him to preform on stage but only on days where the usual contracted singers are unable to attend work.
He is not that much of a fool to not notice the difference in atmosphere these last couple of weeks, the nobles are on edge and shifty for whatever reason. Although he lived in the Capital - Fidel has no desire to try and understand its internal complexity when it comes to tension between noble houses. As long as they pay him the hours he worked , he does not care.
But, if he have a choice, he'd rather not see those men with their mistresses sucking face and being all clingy. Infidelity of any sort makes his skin itch, if possible he wish to switch workplace. . .
Copper Bar has three level, the first floor for new patrons, second floor for regular customers to lounge and converse, while the third floor are for private meetings and information trading. The usage of this bar is not exactly public but it is not private either, he had worked here long enough to pick up minor details such as those.
Beneath crystal chandelier hung from white marble ceiling and soft flickering mana fueled lights for ambiance - Fidel stood behind his assigned bar on the first floor, at the moment the stools in front of him are currently empty. Lights reflects against ornamental glass cups as well as bottles filled with various colored liquor upon rows of shelves behind him cast a multicolored light akin to stained glass upon his figure.
The suit he wore are simple assigned black slacks, white dress shirt and grey blazer, he had forgo the jacket - instead it is neatly folded and set inside one of the bar's empty cabinet below the counter.
The fair-skinned man busied himself with taking dried glasses off their racks and organizing themselves into their respective drawers, gloved hands cleaning his workstation, wiping down the counter's surface ensuring no speck of dust could be seen on it and putting away knives used to cut fruits back into their holders.
Both hands on the counter - the bartender's left hand held a cloth used to wipe the counter. Fidel tilts his head up, a small sigh escapes his lips as he let his emerald gaze lingers up at the chandelier, night shift are always the worst.
It all happened far too fast then. The double door swung open with more force than needed, followed by a loud bang, shocked screams and confused nonsense from patrons, and the bartender finds himself working on instinct alone. Pushing himself up and over the counter, leaping over the wooden surface.
Had Fidel been just a few seconds slower - he would have been skewered by the falling chandelier, the chains holding it had been shot clean, sending the heavy object crashing down in its crystalized glory shattered to pieces and unfortunately the impact sends shrapnel of crystal and glass all over, some even dug into his back.
Footsteps rushed into the bar, heavy boots thudding against titled flooring, loud shouting of commands over terrified souls.
A coordinated attack, from rebels?
Pushing himself up off of the floor from his less than graceful landing, Fidel's only thought is to run but a firm grasp around his arm yanked him back in a near bone crushing grip, he could feel a cold, sharp metal against this neck - no way.
He is just a worker here. Why must he die too?
Love at first sight during a crisis! As usual we can brainstorm what could possibly have happened that lead up to this moment, this world is in your control as it is mine!
