THE PROBLEM
deranged, but so, so playful
TL ; DR
Me
Yes
No
THE LONG VERSION
Hi there. Donny, she/her, early 30s, UTC+2, looking for 25+ writers for a long-term, modern crime RP. Please do not approach me if you are under 25.
Below you can find a more detailed explanation of my preferences as a writer. If you’d like to read about the particular plot and character I’m looking to write, you’re welcome to scroll down to the last 3 paragraphs.
Quality>quantity, show>tell: though I hate the term, my writing style is best defined as “casual lit”. I’m not a fan of novella or matching lengths just for the sake of it. My own posts can range anywhere between 1-5 paragraphs (100-700 words), depending on what a particular thread calls for - and if I feel like 100 words are all that’s needed for a particular post, I won’t be adding any fillers just to make my reply seem longer. Likewise, I will not be expecting the same of you.
It’s important to note that I prefer to either keep my characters’ internal monologue to a minimum, or exclude it altogether - which is the main reason my posts tend to be on the shorter side. I know that describing the characters’ thoughts and feelings is big for a lot of writers - but I find that it disturbs the flow of dialog and, more importantly, makes interactions feel less genuine. A good deal of real-life misunderstandings and drama stem from the fact that none of us are privy to each other’s thoughts; I want our characters to miscommunicate and have stupid arguments that could easily be avoided! I want them to struggle to understand one another! And while I don’t necessarily expect you to exclude your characters’ internal monologue altogether (depends on what you’re comfortable with) - if you like going into your characters’ thoughts and feelings at length, we probably won’t make a good match for one another.
I prefer writing in third person, present tense. I can do past tense if necessary, but would rather not.
Long-term plots: I tend to prefer character-driven stories and, as such, prefer to use the characters I’ve been developing over the years as opposed to making new ones. With that said, you’re welcome to do either/or. I’d be happy for you to either use one of your own pre-made characters, or create a new one from scratch - whichever you’re more comfortable with.
My characters tend to be queer, flawed men, mostly of the criminal variety. As I’ve stuck to writing them for years, it should go without saying that they all come with their own little worlds; well-thought-out, researched bios; and a bunch of minor characters surrounding them, which I would be happy to utilize and further explore and develop, as well.
On a similar note: I’m a dedicated writer. I like seeing plots through. When the story is good and the characters are compelling, I can stick with the same plot/ship/cast of characters for years and never get bored or tired of it. If you are unable to maintain interest for longer periods of time or like to switch things up rather often, we probably won’t make a good match for one another.
Original characters and content: give me your OCs! GIVE THEM TO ME! I love learning all about them, what makes them tick, all the little nuances that really bring them to life. I am wholly uninterested in canon characters of any fandom (sorry).
Additionally, I'm an active plotter. I try to work with the "yes, and" method as often as possible and rarely leave my partners hanging when it comes to driving the plot forward or working on character development. I expect you to be able to do the same. I'm sympathetic towards the occasional dry spell; none of us can be oozing with creativity 24/7; but if you consistently leave all the hard work up to me, I will get bored and respectfully drop the RP.
On triggers and boundaries: I don't have any particular triggers and like getting into the nitty-gritty of the human psyche/behavior/existence. I'll obviously respect any triggers or boundaries you may have but, as a general rule: if you're especially sensitive to or easily triggered by themes common to the criminal genre (i.e. violence, substance abuse, etc.) - we probably won’t make a good match for one another.
Clear communication, posts once a week: these are pretty self-explanatory. Real life comes first, always. My own plate is pretty full when it comes to my OOC life. However, I try to keep my partners in the loop if I may not be able to adhere to the once-a-week posting schedule or if I’m going to be unavailable OOC for a little while, and I expect you to do the same. Likewise, if something isn’t working for you, please let me know, and I’ll be happy to restructure/change things to accommodate you!
Matched enthusiasm, engagement and effort: this should also be pretty self-explanatory. If I feel like I’m the only one moving the plot forward, trying to engage in OOC conversation, expressing interest in your character or just generally feel like I’m the only one pulling their weight, I’m likely to bow out.
If you'd like to reach out, you may either comment on this thread or DM me. As my own writing samples are available below, I’d appreciate it if you could include your own when approaching me.
THE MAN HAS A GUN, HE KNOWS HOW TO USE IT
The Mercenary, AKA Merc, is my longest-running character and my absolute favorite. He's in his late 20s-early 30s, homosexual/romantic, and - you guessed it - a mercenary combat operative. Think Blackwater, Wagner Group and the like. Standoffish, thick, self-destructive and extremely dangerous, he is also profoundly loyal, adventurous, charming and far more clever and sensitive than he lets on.
His themes largely include: crime, modern-realism, recent history, war, mental illness, transgenerational abuse, nihilism, moral ambiguity, violence and redemption.
While I don’t have a clear or specific plot in mind for him, as the collaborative aspect of RP is a big thing for me, I do have some vague ideas for the kinds of characters I think could work well with him and, by proxy, certain directions where we could take the plot, depending on the kind of relationship we come up with.
Honestly, I could see Merc working in a wide variety of scenarios and with all sorts of characters. I'd be equally thrilled to explore him with another criminal (another mercenary; a druglord, a high-ranking executive in a major corporation, or any other type of potential client; a fixer/cleaner; a bent lawyer; a forger; a handler; the list goes on) as I would with a character on the law enforcement spectrum (a government agent; a police detective or PI; a journalist; a straight-edged lawyer; again, the list goes on), or even an entirely civilian character who has absolutely nothing to do with Merc's world, but will inevitably get sucked into it through their relationship with him. He has plenty of hobbies and interests outside of his job and could easily make a connection through those. I'd also be more than happy to explore a childhood-friends-reunited-as-adults relationship for him, and generally like writing pre-established relationships.
Whichever the case, I'd adore exploring the relationship in all its aspects and stages, as well as work on a wider plot/world in which everything will take place. I don't like for my roleplays to revolve solely around a romantic relationship between two characters (although I’m a sucker for a good, gut-wrenching romance), and I love expanding on lore and side-characters. All I ask is that your character feels 'real enough', if that makes sense, and that you give me enough to work with.
Me
- Donny, cis female, 30+
- UTC+2
- ESL
- Looking to write a long-term plot (and ship) for my long-running, queer crime OC with your queer, crime OC!
Yes
- 25+ writing partners
- Quality > quantity, concise and engaging writing
- Show > tell
- Casual lit, 1-5 paragraph posts
- Third person, present tense
- Long-term plots and/or dedicated writers who can stick to one thing for a long time
- Drama, crime, realism, history, war/military, subversive subcultures, slice of life, romance, (some) fluff, hurt/comfort, angst/dark subject matter
- Original characters and content
- In-depth character development
- MxM
- Clear communication
- Posts ~once a week
- Matched enthusiasm, engagement and effort
No
- Minors
- Flakes
- Discourse, drama, politics, hate
- Purple prose
- Pancake-stack dialog
- Novella, matching post lengths and/or writing fillers just for the sake of matching
- Pure fluff
- High fantasy, superhero, supernatural, canon material/characters
- Posts once or more a day
- Posts less than once a week
- MxF, FxF
- Leaving all the work up to me, either IC or OOC
THE LONG VERSION
Hi there. Donny, she/her, early 30s, UTC+2, looking for 25+ writers for a long-term, modern crime RP. Please do not approach me if you are under 25.
Below you can find a more detailed explanation of my preferences as a writer. If you’d like to read about the particular plot and character I’m looking to write, you’re welcome to scroll down to the last 3 paragraphs.
Quality>quantity, show>tell: though I hate the term, my writing style is best defined as “casual lit”. I’m not a fan of novella or matching lengths just for the sake of it. My own posts can range anywhere between 1-5 paragraphs (100-700 words), depending on what a particular thread calls for - and if I feel like 100 words are all that’s needed for a particular post, I won’t be adding any fillers just to make my reply seem longer. Likewise, I will not be expecting the same of you.
It’s important to note that I prefer to either keep my characters’ internal monologue to a minimum, or exclude it altogether - which is the main reason my posts tend to be on the shorter side. I know that describing the characters’ thoughts and feelings is big for a lot of writers - but I find that it disturbs the flow of dialog and, more importantly, makes interactions feel less genuine. A good deal of real-life misunderstandings and drama stem from the fact that none of us are privy to each other’s thoughts; I want our characters to miscommunicate and have stupid arguments that could easily be avoided! I want them to struggle to understand one another! And while I don’t necessarily expect you to exclude your characters’ internal monologue altogether (depends on what you’re comfortable with) - if you like going into your characters’ thoughts and feelings at length, we probably won’t make a good match for one another.
I prefer writing in third person, present tense. I can do past tense if necessary, but would rather not.
Long-term plots: I tend to prefer character-driven stories and, as such, prefer to use the characters I’ve been developing over the years as opposed to making new ones. With that said, you’re welcome to do either/or. I’d be happy for you to either use one of your own pre-made characters, or create a new one from scratch - whichever you’re more comfortable with.
My characters tend to be queer, flawed men, mostly of the criminal variety. As I’ve stuck to writing them for years, it should go without saying that they all come with their own little worlds; well-thought-out, researched bios; and a bunch of minor characters surrounding them, which I would be happy to utilize and further explore and develop, as well.
On a similar note: I’m a dedicated writer. I like seeing plots through. When the story is good and the characters are compelling, I can stick with the same plot/ship/cast of characters for years and never get bored or tired of it. If you are unable to maintain interest for longer periods of time or like to switch things up rather often, we probably won’t make a good match for one another.
Original characters and content: give me your OCs! GIVE THEM TO ME! I love learning all about them, what makes them tick, all the little nuances that really bring them to life. I am wholly uninterested in canon characters of any fandom (sorry).
Additionally, I'm an active plotter. I try to work with the "yes, and" method as often as possible and rarely leave my partners hanging when it comes to driving the plot forward or working on character development. I expect you to be able to do the same. I'm sympathetic towards the occasional dry spell; none of us can be oozing with creativity 24/7; but if you consistently leave all the hard work up to me, I will get bored and respectfully drop the RP.
On triggers and boundaries: I don't have any particular triggers and like getting into the nitty-gritty of the human psyche/behavior/existence. I'll obviously respect any triggers or boundaries you may have but, as a general rule: if you're especially sensitive to or easily triggered by themes common to the criminal genre (i.e. violence, substance abuse, etc.) - we probably won’t make a good match for one another.
Clear communication, posts once a week: these are pretty self-explanatory. Real life comes first, always. My own plate is pretty full when it comes to my OOC life. However, I try to keep my partners in the loop if I may not be able to adhere to the once-a-week posting schedule or if I’m going to be unavailable OOC for a little while, and I expect you to do the same. Likewise, if something isn’t working for you, please let me know, and I’ll be happy to restructure/change things to accommodate you!
Matched enthusiasm, engagement and effort: this should also be pretty self-explanatory. If I feel like I’m the only one moving the plot forward, trying to engage in OOC conversation, expressing interest in your character or just generally feel like I’m the only one pulling their weight, I’m likely to bow out.
If you'd like to reach out, you may either comment on this thread or DM me. As my own writing samples are available below, I’d appreciate it if you could include your own when approaching me.
THE MAN HAS A GUN, HE KNOWS HOW TO USE IT
The Mercenary, AKA Merc, is my longest-running character and my absolute favorite. He's in his late 20s-early 30s, homosexual/romantic, and - you guessed it - a mercenary combat operative. Think Blackwater, Wagner Group and the like. Standoffish, thick, self-destructive and extremely dangerous, he is also profoundly loyal, adventurous, charming and far more clever and sensitive than he lets on.
His themes largely include: crime, modern-realism, recent history, war, mental illness, transgenerational abuse, nihilism, moral ambiguity, violence and redemption.
| BASICS | |
| FULL NAME A variety of fake ones. Harry, John, Victor, Bob – take your pick. In the business, he’s simply known as the Mercenary, or Merc for short. | GENDER Cis male. |
| DOB November 5th. | AGE Late 20s - early 30s. |
| SEXUAL ORIENTATION Homosexual. | SPOKEN LANGUAGES He only really speaks English (in a thick Cockney accent), but knows a bunch of basic, useful words and phrases in a variety of languages. |
| HOMETOWN London, UK. | CURRENT LOCATION Technically based in New York, NY; but his work takes him all over the globe. |
| OCCUPATION He’ll say he does something in imports/exports for a well-known food corporation but, in reality, he’s a mercenary combat operative. | |
| PHYSICAL | |
| EYES Amber. | HAIR Ginger. Naturally curly, though you’ll never catch him outside of his neatly-trimmed buzzcut. Thick and groomed beard. |
| HEIGHT 7 foot / 2.13 meters. | BUILD Like a brick shithouse. |
IDENTIFYING MARKS
|
STYLE For the job, he favors muted colors and functionality/comfort over looks. Prefers to wear long sleeves for fear of someone spotting his tattoos or other identifying marks. Henleys; hoodies; tactical jackets; cargo pants; sweats. Always combat boots. Lots of items layered together when he’s trying to be inconspicuous. Likes sporting a hoodie + ballcap + sunglasses combo when he’s feeling particularly paranoid. Prefers to carry his handguns in shoulder holsters and normally has a combat knife strapped to his ankle. His casual/off-the-clock style largely consists of minimalist items with little touches which make them special, such as cutouts or a bold, but simple graphic. He prefers high-waisted pants to accentuate his long(!) legs; snug turtlenecks and cute sweaters are a big thing. Chelsea boots and sneakers will do when combat boots aren’t an option. Makeup is saved only for dates or the rare occasion of clubbing and will usually include a natural-looking face, graphic eyeliner and a bold lip. This will also occasionally include painted nails. |
| OTHER Cheekbones for days. Colossal hands and feet. Veiny arms and callous hands. Neck like a tree trunk. Broad shoulders. Strong core. The meatiest pair of tits you ever done seen. Long, long legs. Thick thighs. Eyes often bloodshot and sunken. Ginger eyelashes. Resting bitch face. Thick eyebrows with a weird, pointy growth pattern. Always wears a bullet hanging from a green string around his neck. Sunburns easily; blush clearly shows on his fair English skin. Dimples when he smiles. Too big to fit anywhere comfortably. | |
| PERSONALITY | |
| POSITIVE Adventurous; adaptable; deeply ride-or-die; nerves of steel; observant; analytical; hard worker; clean and organized; coy; sweet; thoughtful; charming in a boorish kind of way. | NEGATIVE Reserved; standoffish; dishonest; distrustful; non-committal; pessimistic; workaholic; thrill-seeker; morally bankrupt; paranoid; hostile; violent; self-loathing; self-destructive. |
| LIKES Birds (specifically: pigeons); photography; exotic foods, home cooking, eating in general; dancing; punk, goth and 80s pop; picking fights (especially with homophobes); swimming; getting into trouble; traveling; food and night markets, hole-in-the-wall eateries; neon lights; playing around with makeup; bareknuckle boxing; working out; martial arts; firearms, gun ranges; camaraderie; privacy; taking orders; feeling useful, being of service; getting pampered, treated delicately and feeling cared for; organization and cleanliness; high work ethic. | DISLIKES Making chit-chat; eye contact; unprompted physical contact; unprompted kindness; reading and writing in front of other people; eating in front of other people; medical facilities, doctors and other medical staff; being the center of attention; needles; intimacy, vulnerability, sobriety; being treated like he’s stupid and/or mentally unwell; being misunderstood and having to explain himself; being told how big and tall he is (he’s aware, thanks); being ginger; unprofessionalism; high culture; confined spaces; neckties; disorder; self-reflection. |
| OTHER Private. Doesn’t have a good way with words, often has trouble expressing himself, and gives up on it very easily. Married to his job and considers it to take precedence above anything and everything else. Promiscuous. Paranoid. Prone to depression, dissociation and anxiety. Similarly prone to fits of unprompted violence. Tends to feel intimidated by individuals he perceives as being more intelligent than he is. Has an easier time getting along with men rather than women, and is especially uneasy around motherly types. Bone-dry sense of humor. | |
| PROFESSIONAL | |
| Though the individual known as the Mercenary first surfaced sometime mid-1990s, he’s made quite the reputation for himself since, namely in the fields of personnel security, smuggling (drugs; gold and diamonds; human beings) and political assassinations. He seems to favor high-risk, high-pay operations. He’s highly skilled at clandestine ops, combat (both hand-to-hand and using a variety of weapons), has a good mind for strategy, tactics and leadership, and is suspected of having professional military background (specifically: special forces), though the details of such remain unknown. Suspected of offering services such as, but not limited to: security, reconnaissance, espionage, extortion, kidnapping, assassination. Has been operational for roughly 10 years. Suspected in the assassination of Andrei Lukanov (Bulgarian Communist Party), Álvaro Gómez Hurtado (Colombian Conservative Party) and Yitzhak Rabin (Israeli Prime Minister). True identity and base of operation unknown. Currently wanted by CIA, MI6 and Interpol, though he’s also presumably cooperated with the CIA and the Mossad. | |
| OTHER | |
| SKILLS Problem-solving; strategizing; highly functional under extreme pressure; exceptional marksmanship; extensive knowledge on and experience with firearms; extensive combat and reconnaissance training and spec-ops experience; proficient in Krav Maga and occasionally dabbles in other martial arts; amateur photographer (mainly for work purposes); proficient knowledge on pigeons and their care; some knife tricks (twirling, throwing, etc.); some smoke tricks; some sideshow tricks (juggling, etc.); amateur origamist; very good at cleaning and organizing. | WEAKNESSES Chronic back, neck and knee pain due to excessive height; suffers of tinnitus and slight hearing loss in right ear; substance abuse; lone wolf; very easily recognizable; poor self-image; susceptible to manipulation; technophobe; paranoid/anxious; depressive; dissociative; dyslexic; a smorgasbord of self-harming and/or avoidant, maladaptive coping mechanisms; struggles to process and express emotion; can’t cook to save his life. |
| VICES Smoking, drinking, self-medicating (modafinil and other stimulants, opioids and other painkillers, antidepressants and anxiety medication, weed). | RELIGIOUS VIEWS Atheist. |
| EDUCATION Ends in secondary school (age 12). |
Sample #1 (main verse / current times)
“Fuck! Put the gun down! Please, come on! It’s me, alright?”
The sole indication of the immense pain pulsing all through him is the flaring of his nostrils and twitching of his eyes with every breath drawn, long and deep despite the explosive hurt which detonates in his chest with every inhale. The mere act of standing on his own two feet is so painful that a steady supply of oxygen is the only thing currently keeping the world from spinning too fast around him. Though his hand trembles around the handle of his .45 which, dwarfed in comparison, looks like no more than a squirt gun - pressing the barrel hard into the intruder’s brow is enough to steady it, and using the Mercenary’s free arm to secures him against the wall by pressing his elbow to his windpipe is enough to steady that, too.
This up-close, the ripe stench wafting from him is impossible to ignore. Having stewed in his own juices for weeks with no shower or change of clothes, the shirt which sticks to him like clingwrap is stained with sweat and sauce and cigarette ash. Wild curls, left to grow untamed and full of knots and the thick, bushy beard that swallows his broad neck make him seem like a woodsman gone mad.
Recognition is slow to sink, cloudy honey eyes frantically searching Dominic’s face despite knowing it all too well. Even when they settle, finally satisfied with the identity of the intruder, the Mercenary makes no attempt to release his captive, the cold, angry mouth of his pistol pressing a mean dent into the attorney’s flesh.
“Fuck’re you doing here?” The sound of his own voice is both alien and distant, unusually flat and hoarse and coming from miles away. “Fuck you want?” The massive fist balled in the breast of Dom’s shirt shakes him violently, causing the back of Dom’s head to bounce off the wall behind him, as though the answers might fall from his pockets if only Merc rattles him hard enough.
Sample #2 (main verse/current times)
(taken from mid-thread, this is not an intro post)
He is a Bengal tiger at the zoo, harassed for entertainment. A big, bad predator at rest is not the show Hordyenko came here to see.
But fuck Merc if he gives him the satisfaction.
His hand, the size of a frying pan, wraps around the entirety of Hordyenko’s face with ease before Merc shoves him back onto the mattress as though he was stuffed with straw, weighing nothing.
In a deep bass that is somewhere between honey and gravel, he tells him, “Put that deflated knob away before I rip it off, li’le man.”
Sample #3 (main verse / current times)
(taken from mid-thread, this is not an intro post)
Perhaps it’s the steady set of shoulders beneath his arm and the firm grip on his waist that have Merc briefly contemplating the fact that Dominic has never before held him this way. Under different circumstances, he might have found it bleakly amusing, considering the nature of their relationship. Under these circumstances, though, he finds he can do little but revel in the comfort of Dominic’s hold on him (disgusting, abhorrent and absolutely forbidden; he will surely regret it later), allowing him to carry some of his weight as he staggers, one-legged, out into the hallway.
He steers them towards the only door left unexplored, right across from his bedroom, and reaches to switch the lights on a bathroom as simple and barren as the kitchen, save for the single toothbrush resting in a glass at the side of the sink and a small group of sticky-notes clinging to the high-hung mirror. triᴍ ʙEᴇrb. cᴜt ʜᴀЯᴇ. Cut ИAʟɘ’s.
“Over there,” he grumbles, jutting his chin towards a plastic chair which has been set up in the shower (wide, but not tall enough to comfortably fit him, the showerhead’s extra-long hose coiled on the floor like a silver snake). That, along with a pile of old, wet clothes, reeking of mold and cast nearby are the only remaining evidence of Merc’s previous attempt at washing himself.
Sample #4 (teen verse / 1980s)
(taken from mid-thread, this is not an intro post)
His mouth tastes of copper and tobacco. Blood and smoke. The bridge of his nose is still swollen and tender where it’s been busted open, the pale stubble on his lip stained with dried blood, raw knuckles still burning from the punches he’s served in return to the initial attack - and Cal’s heart is fucking soaring. Completely at home with a beer in his hand and a spliff dangling from his mouth, his freshly-settled baritone of a voice rises just barely above the band booming on-stage as he relates the tale of his latest victory to the gang.
“… so ‘e says to me, right? Stupid I'm uncultured, ‘e says, you bent or somethin’? A bloody poofter?” He pauses then, just at the right moment, to allow a brief wave of laughter from the gang, a broad, impish grin stretched across his face. Wanker, remarks One-Two with malicious joy. They need not hear the rest of the story to know what comes next, though Cal carries on all the same. “Said that to the wrong motherfucker, inni– OI!”
Cut short by a sudden bump to his back which sends the cigarette flying to the filthy floor (and One-Two diving, immediately, to retrieve it) and his beer spilling all over his shirt, Cal, his face already turning red with rage, spins on his heels to face the offender. For a moment, he isn’t quite certain who or what had stepped into him until he looks way, way down and finds himself eyeing what looks to him like a twelve-year-old schoolboy who’s taken a wrong turn down the street.
“You fuckin’ blind, mate?” Inquires Wally, a pimply-faced boy with acid-green hair buzzed down the middle and spiked up at the sides, much to the gang’s amusement. Even Cal, though still upset at the loss of the joint and the soiling of his shirt (a white tee reading YOU MAKE ME SICK! across the chest, where One-Two had scribbled it in black marker), can’t stop the corner of his lips curling in a callous little smile.
“That’s a zoot and me favorite shirt you cost me,” he informs the stranger, looming over him, fierce yellow eyes framed in black hinting at the danger of allowing this transgression to go unrectified. Between the getup and the accent, Cal reckons the boy is more than capable (and willing) to compensate him.
“Fuck! Put the gun down! Please, come on! It’s me, alright?”
The sole indication of the immense pain pulsing all through him is the flaring of his nostrils and twitching of his eyes with every breath drawn, long and deep despite the explosive hurt which detonates in his chest with every inhale. The mere act of standing on his own two feet is so painful that a steady supply of oxygen is the only thing currently keeping the world from spinning too fast around him. Though his hand trembles around the handle of his .45 which, dwarfed in comparison, looks like no more than a squirt gun - pressing the barrel hard into the intruder’s brow is enough to steady it, and using the Mercenary’s free arm to secures him against the wall by pressing his elbow to his windpipe is enough to steady that, too.
This up-close, the ripe stench wafting from him is impossible to ignore. Having stewed in his own juices for weeks with no shower or change of clothes, the shirt which sticks to him like clingwrap is stained with sweat and sauce and cigarette ash. Wild curls, left to grow untamed and full of knots and the thick, bushy beard that swallows his broad neck make him seem like a woodsman gone mad.
Recognition is slow to sink, cloudy honey eyes frantically searching Dominic’s face despite knowing it all too well. Even when they settle, finally satisfied with the identity of the intruder, the Mercenary makes no attempt to release his captive, the cold, angry mouth of his pistol pressing a mean dent into the attorney’s flesh.
“Fuck’re you doing here?” The sound of his own voice is both alien and distant, unusually flat and hoarse and coming from miles away. “Fuck you want?” The massive fist balled in the breast of Dom’s shirt shakes him violently, causing the back of Dom’s head to bounce off the wall behind him, as though the answers might fall from his pockets if only Merc rattles him hard enough.
Sample #2 (main verse/current times)
(taken from mid-thread, this is not an intro post)
He is a Bengal tiger at the zoo, harassed for entertainment. A big, bad predator at rest is not the show Hordyenko came here to see.
But fuck Merc if he gives him the satisfaction.
His hand, the size of a frying pan, wraps around the entirety of Hordyenko’s face with ease before Merc shoves him back onto the mattress as though he was stuffed with straw, weighing nothing.
In a deep bass that is somewhere between honey and gravel, he tells him, “Put that deflated knob away before I rip it off, li’le man.”
Sample #3 (main verse / current times)
(taken from mid-thread, this is not an intro post)
Perhaps it’s the steady set of shoulders beneath his arm and the firm grip on his waist that have Merc briefly contemplating the fact that Dominic has never before held him this way. Under different circumstances, he might have found it bleakly amusing, considering the nature of their relationship. Under these circumstances, though, he finds he can do little but revel in the comfort of Dominic’s hold on him (disgusting, abhorrent and absolutely forbidden; he will surely regret it later), allowing him to carry some of his weight as he staggers, one-legged, out into the hallway.
He steers them towards the only door left unexplored, right across from his bedroom, and reaches to switch the lights on a bathroom as simple and barren as the kitchen, save for the single toothbrush resting in a glass at the side of the sink and a small group of sticky-notes clinging to the high-hung mirror. triᴍ ʙEᴇrb. cᴜt ʜᴀЯᴇ. Cut ИAʟɘ’s.
“Over there,” he grumbles, jutting his chin towards a plastic chair which has been set up in the shower (wide, but not tall enough to comfortably fit him, the showerhead’s extra-long hose coiled on the floor like a silver snake). That, along with a pile of old, wet clothes, reeking of mold and cast nearby are the only remaining evidence of Merc’s previous attempt at washing himself.
Sample #4 (teen verse / 1980s)
(taken from mid-thread, this is not an intro post)
His mouth tastes of copper and tobacco. Blood and smoke. The bridge of his nose is still swollen and tender where it’s been busted open, the pale stubble on his lip stained with dried blood, raw knuckles still burning from the punches he’s served in return to the initial attack - and Cal’s heart is fucking soaring. Completely at home with a beer in his hand and a spliff dangling from his mouth, his freshly-settled baritone of a voice rises just barely above the band booming on-stage as he relates the tale of his latest victory to the gang.
“… so ‘e says to me, right? Stupid I'm uncultured, ‘e says, you bent or somethin’? A bloody poofter?” He pauses then, just at the right moment, to allow a brief wave of laughter from the gang, a broad, impish grin stretched across his face. Wanker, remarks One-Two with malicious joy. They need not hear the rest of the story to know what comes next, though Cal carries on all the same. “Said that to the wrong motherfucker, inni– OI!”
Cut short by a sudden bump to his back which sends the cigarette flying to the filthy floor (and One-Two diving, immediately, to retrieve it) and his beer spilling all over his shirt, Cal, his face already turning red with rage, spins on his heels to face the offender. For a moment, he isn’t quite certain who or what had stepped into him until he looks way, way down and finds himself eyeing what looks to him like a twelve-year-old schoolboy who’s taken a wrong turn down the street.
“You fuckin’ blind, mate?” Inquires Wally, a pimply-faced boy with acid-green hair buzzed down the middle and spiked up at the sides, much to the gang’s amusement. Even Cal, though still upset at the loss of the joint and the soiling of his shirt (a white tee reading YOU MAKE ME SICK! across the chest, where One-Two had scribbled it in black marker), can’t stop the corner of his lips curling in a callous little smile.
“That’s a zoot and me favorite shirt you cost me,” he informs the stranger, looming over him, fierce yellow eyes framed in black hinting at the danger of allowing this transgression to go unrectified. Between the getup and the accent, Cal reckons the boy is more than capable (and willing) to compensate him.
While I don’t have a clear or specific plot in mind for him, as the collaborative aspect of RP is a big thing for me, I do have some vague ideas for the kinds of characters I think could work well with him and, by proxy, certain directions where we could take the plot, depending on the kind of relationship we come up with.
Honestly, I could see Merc working in a wide variety of scenarios and with all sorts of characters. I'd be equally thrilled to explore him with another criminal (another mercenary; a druglord, a high-ranking executive in a major corporation, or any other type of potential client; a fixer/cleaner; a bent lawyer; a forger; a handler; the list goes on) as I would with a character on the law enforcement spectrum (a government agent; a police detective or PI; a journalist; a straight-edged lawyer; again, the list goes on), or even an entirely civilian character who has absolutely nothing to do with Merc's world, but will inevitably get sucked into it through their relationship with him. He has plenty of hobbies and interests outside of his job and could easily make a connection through those. I'd also be more than happy to explore a childhood-friends-reunited-as-adults relationship for him, and generally like writing pre-established relationships.
Whichever the case, I'd adore exploring the relationship in all its aspects and stages, as well as work on a wider plot/world in which everything will take place. I don't like for my roleplays to revolve solely around a romantic relationship between two characters (although I’m a sucker for a good, gut-wrenching romance), and I love expanding on lore and side-characters. All I ask is that your character feels 'real enough', if that makes sense, and that you give me enough to work with.
