Melpomene
Writer of Tragedy|Art by ROYTHEART|
Hello my lovelies,
I am Melpomene. But you can call me Mel. I have been on RPN for quite some time now and I think it is time for me to make a new Partner search. You may have seen me around before, but I think I should give you a rundown of who I am and what to expect from me. I am a current university student in my twenties and I also work part-time in food service. This will make my availability a bit flexible, so I ask both for leniency in time between posts and ask kindly for only people who would be alright with such things to message me for an RP. I am a novelist in the works, and as you can imagine, it means I am one for the dramatics and I enjoy good detailed posts. Further, I enjoy talking about it with my partner. I am a very chatty person OOC and enjoy sharing thoughts about my day, memes, whatever book I am reading, music as well as thoughts about our story and characters. I am the type to fangirl when I get comfortable and make fun little scenarios for us to talk about whenever I get comfortable so please be forewarned. I like plots that have deep character interactions with everyone interwoven in a web (I happen to be a sucker for family sagas) and that is reflected in both my writing and my reading choices. I am a lover of fantasy and history the most, though if the plot is interesting enough I might dabble in modern or sci-fi.
I am an avid music fan and am happy to share playlists I made for the RP or for my own characters. I also might make Pinterest mood boards for our RP and characters as well! I am an avid reader and may take ideas from books I have read for both characters and plots. Further, I am happy to collaborate with you and make for something that we will both thoroughly enjoy, as I know successful roleplays and friendships hinge on the ability to communicate with one another. So, never feel too intimidated to talk to me about anything. Especially if we click friendship wise I think we will be making way for a beautiful partnership.
I am going to put here a streamlined version of my rules/preferences so that you may get a broader picture of what I am wanting and decide if we will be a good fit. If I lose you here then I am sorry we weren't a good fit, but I would still love to see you around! And if all of this ends up working for you then I look forward to hearing what ideas you have for our story!
Finally! Here is a writing sample so you can get an idea of my style:
The tale of Hades and Persephone is as old as time. It is something that does not need to be repeated. The tale of the God of the Underworld taking a liking to the child of Demeter and whisking them away to rule alongside him is well-known. But I like to add life into the past and bring on a new idea for this myth. Let us bring the narrative back to the Dread Persephone and her Husband Hades as they fight for their love against all things that push against them. Many believe the very nature of both of them means they cannot be together. But as it comes, they share a love that cannot be destroyed and are bound in ways that none could imagine. So join me in this beautiful tale of Spring and Death as we retell a timeless tale.
(I can play Hades or Persephone for this role and am happy to switch the genders to make it mxm or fxf)
(Based on )
Rome.
The center of the world. A growing republic that has faced wars, trials, and tribulations. Growing from the first kingdom founded by Romulus and now entering into a new era as Julius Caesar crosses the Rubicon. In this RP I would like ot concentrate on the relationship between Caesar and the man who is at the heart of history’s most famous betrayal: Brutus. But with a possible twist in which Brutus was born a daughter and not a son. Desirous of the fame Caesar has gained and covetous to one day gain the respect he has taken. One day taking the crown Caesar seems to be sure to get.
(More plots to come later~)
I am Melpomene. But you can call me Mel. I have been on RPN for quite some time now and I think it is time for me to make a new Partner search. You may have seen me around before, but I think I should give you a rundown of who I am and what to expect from me. I am a current university student in my twenties and I also work part-time in food service. This will make my availability a bit flexible, so I ask both for leniency in time between posts and ask kindly for only people who would be alright with such things to message me for an RP. I am a novelist in the works, and as you can imagine, it means I am one for the dramatics and I enjoy good detailed posts. Further, I enjoy talking about it with my partner. I am a very chatty person OOC and enjoy sharing thoughts about my day, memes, whatever book I am reading, music as well as thoughts about our story and characters. I am the type to fangirl when I get comfortable and make fun little scenarios for us to talk about whenever I get comfortable so please be forewarned. I like plots that have deep character interactions with everyone interwoven in a web (I happen to be a sucker for family sagas) and that is reflected in both my writing and my reading choices. I am a lover of fantasy and history the most, though if the plot is interesting enough I might dabble in modern or sci-fi.
I am an avid music fan and am happy to share playlists I made for the RP or for my own characters. I also might make Pinterest mood boards for our RP and characters as well! I am an avid reader and may take ideas from books I have read for both characters and plots. Further, I am happy to collaborate with you and make for something that we will both thoroughly enjoy, as I know successful roleplays and friendships hinge on the ability to communicate with one another. So, never feel too intimidated to talk to me about anything. Especially if we click friendship wise I think we will be making way for a beautiful partnership.
I am going to put here a streamlined version of my rules/preferences so that you may get a broader picture of what I am wanting and decide if we will be a good fit. If I lose you here then I am sorry we weren't a good fit, but I would still love to see you around! And if all of this ends up working for you then I look forward to hearing what ideas you have for our story!
- Be Alright with LGBTQ elements, pairings, and characters in our story. I am not saying you have to play an LGBTQ+ character, not in the slightest. You can play whoever you wish, but you must be ok with the presence of LGBTQ characters, elements, and relationships. The world is big and there are bound to be people who fall under such a spectrum whether they are open about it or not. If the mere thought of having an LGBTQ character in our RP bothers you then I am afraid we cannot be partners.
- Do Not Romanticize or Misrepresent Alcoholism, Drug Addiction, Mental Illness/Disorder, Self-Harm, or SA. This is not to say I will balk at the mere depiction of them, but I would be grateful if you did proper research before attempting such things. I cannot stand to see these things romanticized and it will sour the RP for me. Play these things very respectfully and with kindness and empathy.
- Be Alright with Play Multiple Characters. I like a decent size cast to work with - one that usually is beyond two people big and instead spans out to capture every aspect of the story and world it is taking place in. I must make it clear that I give all of my characters equal value. I do not favor one over the other when it comes to whose story is being told and I would like to see the same from you. If you do not like playing more than one character then you are not going to have fun, so don't force yourself to do it. I can tell when you are half-assing a character and it will just drag the plot down for both of us. So if you are looking for an exchange type of thing "you play this for me, I play that for you" then I will have to respectfully decline, that is not the type of story I am looking for.
- Be Alright with Dark Subject Matter. I enjoy my RPs delving into some of the more twisted parts of our society. I make characters who are inwardly twisted, self-destructive, and spiraling personalities who struggle with morality. I am not one for light-hearted stories and tend to cling to the dramatic, heavy subjects. This is not to say it can't have a happy ending, or even happy moments.
- Keep Things Grounded. Even in my Fantasy plots I still try to keep my characters realistic and sensical. I have never been a fan of pure evil and pure good dynamics. I much prefer there simply being people who are trying their best. Even if they are enemies, I prefer them to not be relegated to being only a hero or villain when there is so much more to people than that. If something dramatic happens, I expect everyone to have some type of reaction. This brings me into my next point...
- Characters Should Have Connection... But Do Not Force It. I like our characters to end up with deep connections, either through romantic or platonic love, hatred, lust, friendship, or enemies, all of that is good stuff. But I do not like any forced relationships. I like to see them develop with time and naturally become what they are supposed to be. I do not like forced romances, but I do love naturally growing romances between two characters.
- I Am Ghost Friendly. I won't take any offense to being ghosted. Two weeks without a reply and I will leave the convo, but if you come back after ghosting me I will not hold any hard feelings and welcome you with open arms if I already liked what we had.
- Please be 20+. I am currently in my early twenties and prefer someone close to my age.
- The Basics: No Godmodding, Respect RPN rules and regulations, Don't be a dick, and all that jazz.
Finally! Here is a writing sample so you can get an idea of my style:
A feather swirled, lost from its owner and set adrift by the whims of nature. An unseeable pattern was etched into the fabric of the air, unsettling and unshaken.In a moment, it was calm as Alduin breached the horizon rising from the dark pits of Lestat and casting aside the blackness of night for the red light of day. Reflecting across the soft ripples of the River Sages there was the ever oscillating orange orb, dipped so that it and the river had become one. Beneath his smiling face, two lands had become one. Stinging heat was brought on along with thick smarmy air, so filled with water it was heavy. Flies lazily circled the tepid water, dangling low in the heat, though the intensity was nothing compared to the dry sharpness of the desert, pulling and laying bare on shoulders and breasts that bathed within it. The banks of the river were stained crimson, the golden sands quickly being wetted by the blood which dripped from the dying she-beast whose head had been lain in Mierda's lap.
Her spear laid forgotten at the side, having punctured the creature's side and come out, cleanly, through the lung. The heart, however, had methodically been avoided. Her fingers flexed as she keened, mouth opening in a show of sharp fangs. Round tear filled eyes stared up at Andluins face. He was forever constant, never did he waver. Bringing both life and death, the balance remained.
Once human, Ast had been powerful. A sorceress. A Queen. Beauty personified with her glowing sun-darkened skin and dark alluring eyes. Like the Goddess Ea, lust came upon watching her and her oscillating hips and tantalizing mouth. It was said one word and she could have men dipped at her feet. Tempress. Whore. Slut. Words laid at her tomb by men consumed by envy. Her body had been a thing of songs, and now it was twisted enlarged, grossly grotesque in that of a beast. A mixture of a lion and crocodile. The thick reptillian tail had been severed, curled like the skin of a snake in the sun it did sparkle beautifully in transparent greens and blues. Her upper half was that of a lion, oddly shaped yet beastly all the same.
But Mierda had seen. The woman was powerful and it scared them. The sorcerer Taita had stripped her beauty from her and tortured her mind until she was left as a wild husk, landing neatly in the new land which was unknown and terrifying.
'You poor woman...'
'Do not pity me.' It was odd. Stretched outside of imagination and within her mind's eye, Mierda could see the wavering vision and feel the breath of Ast who once was rather than what she came to be. 'I shan't be pitied. I was... I was...'
'I know. Your most gracious majesty.'
Then there was silence. An all-encompassing and pregnant silence beneath the hot unforgiving sun. With a gentle hand, Mierda felt the unmoving chest, running her hand through the matted fur she thought a prayer and then pulled herself from under the weight of Ast's beastly head. With a flick of her dark hand, she shooed flied from her head and ears, stepping out of the shade of the palm into the rising light of the sun. Limbs stretched, the sticky blood clung, but the blessing was felt fully from their God.
A panther rose, sliding between the gap made by her parted ankles. Mierdakaten. Mierda the Younger. Sleek and black as her mother before her, she slinked about low, feeling the sunlight the shiny black of her fur. Purring, she settled. Mierda. Such a beautiful and powerful beast in her life, passing along such beauty in this living legacy. Mierda liked to think she and her friend were alike, powerful and beautiful in the light of the setting sun, holding within them grace as well as strength. It was beautiful when her claws would extend and sink deep within the prey, and lightly she would amble up the trees with nary a waver. In her death a new Mierda had been born from within that watery womb.
Lost and forgotten, sometimes the inkling of who she once was edged closer, ambling and teasing. Begging to return, wanting to be that little girl again. She was lost. She was forced away and pushed down in light of Mierda the Wise. Mierda the Adult. No longer did she stare in awe at adulthood, but now lived it. Whoever she was before did not matter. The name had been tossed into the Ur, carried on the funeral barge and sunk as Eshanigal, the beautiful and terrible goddess, delivered it to her realm of the underworld.
A birds cry sounded overhead. Automatically, Mierda held out an arm and allowed the hawk to land upon her arm. The sharp talons bit deep into the leather, the strong amber eyes glinted in the sun's light.
For a moment, she was struck with the familiarity to a man she hoped was not long past. Perhaps she should hope he would never come across her again. With his wide smile and hair of spun gold, an innocence which needn't belong to someone a decade her senior. Why did it feel as if she was the ancient one then? Lost forever in a task, uncertainty gnawed at her bowels. She wished to check on him, but her abilities were not yet that honed.
The hawk picked at her hair and ruffled its brown feathers impatiently. A crook of a smile came and went.
'Yes. Tell father the task is completed, Amun. I'm sorry to keep you waiting.' He did not leave immediately, waiting ardently and staring hard as though caught in an arduous limbo. The Mierda rolled her eyes and reached within her pack to pull from it a small chunk of bread. Sharply, Amun took it and then took to flight again. For a moment his wings blocked the suns light, casting her in the shadow of Ur. Then he was gone.
"Mierda?" The soft call came. Morope stood at the edge of the river bed, looking upon the crafted smooth stone and clear guzzling waters only made filthy by the carnage laid waste. Wide and bountiful, it looked to be the Ardu, from which all waters came. But Mierda had seen the Ardu, though only within the briefest of fleeting visions, and it had been so much more expanding than thus. She turned carefully on the ball of her sandaled foot, the golden thread glinting in the light as it rode up her brown calves. Like herself, Morope stood clad with leather binding her breasts and a simple dark linen kilt embroidered with silver. A colorful sash wound about their hips and then draped over their shoulders, partially covering their hennaed torsos.
"Have you finished?" Morope stepped forward, biting a lip. The dark kohl about her eyes made their blackness ever more expanding and endless. "Siye grows restless and worries."
A smile came. Siye always worried, far too much. Ever the fateful body servant, she had not liked leaving the safety of the city of Ianthellan thus, but had come all the same. Willful and lovely, even through the hated dense forest and jungle or over the rough and ruthless sea she had followed and seen to Mierda's safety. Though, quite annoying at times, as it seemed Siye would have Mierda go into battle in gossamer sheaths with hennaed breasts and palms, but Siye was still always there whenever she grew frustrated and despairing. It was hard, still, to grow used to. Mierda did not like being pampered, nor to have those that waited upon her, she liked to do things herself. She only trusted herself to do most things.
Lightly touching the tattoos on Morope's arm, she tilted her head to urge them leave this place. It was no longer cursed. Their work was done. There she had to leave behind thoughts of home. Of that old name which now drifted said only by the father of Gods. Her father. For a moment, her mind drifted back to the lovely Azbin she had met when childish crushes had begun turning to womanly love and he had swept in like a storm, demanding it all for his own. But now he was gone, on his own path and she on hers.
But her heart stilled as she glanced at the sun, dizzied into vertigo as the sight of wings beat against the air and those cold emerald eyes stared from the glaring blue expanse of the sky.
A sharp intake of breath. There was no time to worry over love, war was at her doorstep. They had to move on.
It was on to the next divine task bestowed by her Sun father.
Her spear laid forgotten at the side, having punctured the creature's side and come out, cleanly, through the lung. The heart, however, had methodically been avoided. Her fingers flexed as she keened, mouth opening in a show of sharp fangs. Round tear filled eyes stared up at Andluins face. He was forever constant, never did he waver. Bringing both life and death, the balance remained.
Once human, Ast had been powerful. A sorceress. A Queen. Beauty personified with her glowing sun-darkened skin and dark alluring eyes. Like the Goddess Ea, lust came upon watching her and her oscillating hips and tantalizing mouth. It was said one word and she could have men dipped at her feet. Tempress. Whore. Slut. Words laid at her tomb by men consumed by envy. Her body had been a thing of songs, and now it was twisted enlarged, grossly grotesque in that of a beast. A mixture of a lion and crocodile. The thick reptillian tail had been severed, curled like the skin of a snake in the sun it did sparkle beautifully in transparent greens and blues. Her upper half was that of a lion, oddly shaped yet beastly all the same.
But Mierda had seen. The woman was powerful and it scared them. The sorcerer Taita had stripped her beauty from her and tortured her mind until she was left as a wild husk, landing neatly in the new land which was unknown and terrifying.
'You poor woman...'
'Do not pity me.' It was odd. Stretched outside of imagination and within her mind's eye, Mierda could see the wavering vision and feel the breath of Ast who once was rather than what she came to be. 'I shan't be pitied. I was... I was...'
'I know. Your most gracious majesty.'
Then there was silence. An all-encompassing and pregnant silence beneath the hot unforgiving sun. With a gentle hand, Mierda felt the unmoving chest, running her hand through the matted fur she thought a prayer and then pulled herself from under the weight of Ast's beastly head. With a flick of her dark hand, she shooed flied from her head and ears, stepping out of the shade of the palm into the rising light of the sun. Limbs stretched, the sticky blood clung, but the blessing was felt fully from their God.
A panther rose, sliding between the gap made by her parted ankles. Mierdakaten. Mierda the Younger. Sleek and black as her mother before her, she slinked about low, feeling the sunlight the shiny black of her fur. Purring, she settled. Mierda. Such a beautiful and powerful beast in her life, passing along such beauty in this living legacy. Mierda liked to think she and her friend were alike, powerful and beautiful in the light of the setting sun, holding within them grace as well as strength. It was beautiful when her claws would extend and sink deep within the prey, and lightly she would amble up the trees with nary a waver. In her death a new Mierda had been born from within that watery womb.
Lost and forgotten, sometimes the inkling of who she once was edged closer, ambling and teasing. Begging to return, wanting to be that little girl again. She was lost. She was forced away and pushed down in light of Mierda the Wise. Mierda the Adult. No longer did she stare in awe at adulthood, but now lived it. Whoever she was before did not matter. The name had been tossed into the Ur, carried on the funeral barge and sunk as Eshanigal, the beautiful and terrible goddess, delivered it to her realm of the underworld.
A birds cry sounded overhead. Automatically, Mierda held out an arm and allowed the hawk to land upon her arm. The sharp talons bit deep into the leather, the strong amber eyes glinted in the sun's light.
For a moment, she was struck with the familiarity to a man she hoped was not long past. Perhaps she should hope he would never come across her again. With his wide smile and hair of spun gold, an innocence which needn't belong to someone a decade her senior. Why did it feel as if she was the ancient one then? Lost forever in a task, uncertainty gnawed at her bowels. She wished to check on him, but her abilities were not yet that honed.
The hawk picked at her hair and ruffled its brown feathers impatiently. A crook of a smile came and went.
'Yes. Tell father the task is completed, Amun. I'm sorry to keep you waiting.' He did not leave immediately, waiting ardently and staring hard as though caught in an arduous limbo. The Mierda rolled her eyes and reached within her pack to pull from it a small chunk of bread. Sharply, Amun took it and then took to flight again. For a moment his wings blocked the suns light, casting her in the shadow of Ur. Then he was gone.
"Mierda?" The soft call came. Morope stood at the edge of the river bed, looking upon the crafted smooth stone and clear guzzling waters only made filthy by the carnage laid waste. Wide and bountiful, it looked to be the Ardu, from which all waters came. But Mierda had seen the Ardu, though only within the briefest of fleeting visions, and it had been so much more expanding than thus. She turned carefully on the ball of her sandaled foot, the golden thread glinting in the light as it rode up her brown calves. Like herself, Morope stood clad with leather binding her breasts and a simple dark linen kilt embroidered with silver. A colorful sash wound about their hips and then draped over their shoulders, partially covering their hennaed torsos.
"Have you finished?" Morope stepped forward, biting a lip. The dark kohl about her eyes made their blackness ever more expanding and endless. "Siye grows restless and worries."
A smile came. Siye always worried, far too much. Ever the fateful body servant, she had not liked leaving the safety of the city of Ianthellan thus, but had come all the same. Willful and lovely, even through the hated dense forest and jungle or over the rough and ruthless sea she had followed and seen to Mierda's safety. Though, quite annoying at times, as it seemed Siye would have Mierda go into battle in gossamer sheaths with hennaed breasts and palms, but Siye was still always there whenever she grew frustrated and despairing. It was hard, still, to grow used to. Mierda did not like being pampered, nor to have those that waited upon her, she liked to do things herself. She only trusted herself to do most things.
Lightly touching the tattoos on Morope's arm, she tilted her head to urge them leave this place. It was no longer cursed. Their work was done. There she had to leave behind thoughts of home. Of that old name which now drifted said only by the father of Gods. Her father. For a moment, her mind drifted back to the lovely Azbin she had met when childish crushes had begun turning to womanly love and he had swept in like a storm, demanding it all for his own. But now he was gone, on his own path and she on hers.
But her heart stilled as she glanced at the sun, dizzied into vertigo as the sight of wings beat against the air and those cold emerald eyes stared from the glaring blue expanse of the sky.
A sharp intake of breath. There was no time to worry over love, war was at her doorstep. They had to move on.
It was on to the next divine task bestowed by her Sun father.
Plots
Gods of the Underworld
Gods of the Underworld
The tale of Hades and Persephone is as old as time. It is something that does not need to be repeated. The tale of the God of the Underworld taking a liking to the child of Demeter and whisking them away to rule alongside him is well-known. But I like to add life into the past and bring on a new idea for this myth. Let us bring the narrative back to the Dread Persephone and her Husband Hades as they fight for their love against all things that push against them. Many believe the very nature of both of them means they cannot be together. But as it comes, they share a love that cannot be destroyed and are bound in ways that none could imagine. So join me in this beautiful tale of Spring and Death as we retell a timeless tale.
(I can play Hades or Persephone for this role and am happy to switch the genders to make it mxm or fxf)
The People Will Call Me REX
(Based on )
Rome.
The center of the world. A growing republic that has faced wars, trials, and tribulations. Growing from the first kingdom founded by Romulus and now entering into a new era as Julius Caesar crosses the Rubicon. In this RP I would like ot concentrate on the relationship between Caesar and the man who is at the heart of history’s most famous betrayal: Brutus. But with a possible twist in which Brutus was born a daughter and not a son. Desirous of the fame Caesar has gained and covetous to one day gain the respect he has taken. One day taking the crown Caesar seems to be sure to get.
Tale of Two Families
Often when history books are written, those who hold the pen only write what they are told. What they have seen. What they know. However the Beumont and Arav'ne families have a spanning history, with one point that unites them in the most complex of ways. On the backdrop of war they seek to strengthen their kingdom. The Crown Prince of the Beaumonts to marry the eldest daughter of the Arav'ne family. However, things take a turn. It is her sister he feels so committed to by heart and in turn, the princess finds herself attracted to the younger prince all to form a tangled web between the two families that may never come undone. Something that could end in tragedy so easily as the looming winds of the future carry them.(More plots to come later~)
