Inquieta
Always Tired
Please PM me instead of replying here if interested!
Hi there!
I've been on this site off and on over the last couple of years, but I'm back again, and this time with a new search post seeing as my other one was getting a bit old (and to be completely honest, I've lost the thread, haha!).
Now, I'm not a perfect writer by any means, but I do thoroughly enjoy it! Roleplaying is one of my main hobbies. It keeps me from going back to sleep and staying like that all day, every day, so I would like to get some new partners to help me pass the time.
This post might be a little long, so apologies for that! I'll try and keep it as short as possible, though.
ABOUT ME
- Goes by Inquieta, Inq, or Nic.
- 25 years old.
- They/Them pronouns.
- East of England (GMT timezone).
- Unemployed, and not studying - meaning lots of free time to chat and RP!
- Will try and reply at least once a day, but at minimum once a week (note: my health has been playing up lately so replies may be on the slower side for a bit, feel free to nudge if you're really invested in an RP that we have and it's been a little bit).
- Semi-literate to advanced.
- Usually writes between 200 and over 1,000 words per reply, depending on partner's length of responses.
- Writes in third person, past/present tense.
- Will write male, female and non-binary characters
- Usually, characters will be 18 years or older.
- Will write MxF, MxM, FxF, or NBxAnything pairings.
- Prefers OC characters (will very rarely write a canon character, even for fandom RPs).
- Will write on RPN, Discord (Inquieta#6133), or Google Docs.
- Loves OOC chatter!
- Adores their dog (9 y/o border collie x GSD) and will talk about her for hours.
- Also loves tattoos, and has seven of their own.
- Plays bass guitar in spare time.
- Commissions lots of art work of their characters and hoards it all, but would love to show them off.
ABOUT YOU
- 18 years or older (no upper age limit).
- LGBT+ friendly.
- Enthusiastic about writing.
- Develops ideas and plots with me about potential events in the RP(s).
- Preferably enjoys chatting OOC alongside roleplaying.
- Lets me know if you have any triggers before we start the RP.
- Will hopefully let me know if you are no longer enjoying the RP and want to drop it (no hard feelings).
MY RULES
- Follow the site's rules and guidelines. They're there for a reason, and I'm not looking to get kicked off the site.
- Please refrain from going into explicit detail about suicide and self-harm. Having them in backstories/brushing over them is fine, but I don't feel comfortable with going into great detail about such topics.
- Plots that are purely based around pregnancies make me somewhat uncomfortable. I don't mind if it happens at some point with already developed characters and after it's been discussed between us OOC, but starting off with a pregnancy and basing the entirety of the plot around it just doesn't interest me.
- Don't lie to me about your age, this will make me extremely uncomfortable.
PAIRINGS
- Adventurer x Adventurer.
- Adventurer x Villain.
- Assassin x Assasin.
- Assassin x Target.
- Drug Addict x Drug Dealer.
- Drug Addict x Sober.
- Good x Evil.
- Musician x Aspiring Musician.
- Musician x Bandmate.
- Musician x Fan.
- Musician x Rival Musician.
- Popular x Unpopular.
- Rebel x Rebel.
- Rebel x Royalty.
- Rich x Poor.
- Rival x Rival.
- Royalty x Protector.
- Rockstar x Classical Musician.
- Spy x Spy.
- Soldier x Soldier.
- Superhero x Supervillain.
- Survivor x Soldier.
- Survivor x Survivor.
- Vampire x Hunter.
- Vampire x Mortal.
- Vampire x Werewolf.
Werewolf x Hunter.Werewolf x Mortal.- Wrestler x Fan.
- Wrestler x Wrestler.
ORIGINAL SETTINGS
- Anthropomorphs
- Apocalypse
- Band / Musicians
- College / University
- Cyberpunk
- Enemies to Lovers
- Experiments
- Fantasy
- Gifted
- High Fantasy
- Horror
- Mafia
- Medieval
- Modern
- Mystery
- Paranormal Investigators
- Post-Apocalyptic
- Realistic
- Rebellion
- Science Fiction
- Slice of Life
- Steampunk
- Stray Dogs
- Superheroes
- Supernatural Creatures
- Supernatural Hunters
- Supernatural Investigators
- Superpowers
- Supervillains
- Vampires
Werewolves- Wolves
- Wrestling
- Zombies
FANDOMS
Note: I very rarely write as canon characters as I worry about not doing them justice.
- Aggretsuko.
- American Satan / Paradise City.
- Assassin's Creed.
- Baldur's Gate (1,2 & 3).
- Beastars.
- Black Butler.
- Blue Exorcist.
- BNA (Brand New Animal).
- BNHA/MHA (My Hero Academia).
- Charmed.
- Cyberpunk 2077.
- Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.
- The Darkness.
- Death Note.
- Doctor Who.
- Dragon Age.
- Dungeons & Dragons.
- Final Fantasy XV.
- Half-Life.
- Heroes.
- The Hunger Games.
- Left 4 Dead.
- Jurassic Park / World
- The Maze Runner.
- Mirror's Edge.
- Persona.
- Portal.
- Ready Player One.
- Resident Evil.
- Stranger Things.
- Supernatural.
- The Umbrella Academy.
- Wolf's Rain.
- Wretched and Divine: The Story of the Wild Ones.
WRITING SAMPLE:
The smell of macaroni and cheese fills the tidy apartment in the early evening hours, a radio in the kitchen blaring the country’s current top tracks while a young woman makes her way back and forth across the room. She’s currently in the process of drawing up a sketch; a machine she would build if somehow she ever ended up rich, and flits between the papers and the stove where two pans are bubbling away.
Blue eyes are fixated on the sketch, while cherry blossom-coloured hair that easily reaches her waist is pushed back over her shoulders to stop it from falling in the food. Two red bows are pinned in her hair, while some bangs fall in her face but don’t entirely cover her eyes. She wears a pink tank top and some baggy, black sweatpants with black and red socks poking out from underneath. Her regular boots are propped up beside the apartment’s front door, while her fingerless gloves are cast aside on the coffee table in the living room.
The two pots for the macaroni and the cheese sauce are simmering on the stove. Ariel has measured out enough pasta for both her and her housemate when he returns from class, giving them both a hearty meal. Speaking of which, he is already late coming home. He must have gotten side-tracked on the way back. At least that gives her time to cook the meal for the pair of them without needing to rush.
She reaches across to stir the sauce with a wooden spoon, using her free hand, whilst her second continues to hold the pencil. Her hips are swaying in time with the music, head nodding to the beat. Ariel wasn’t trying to dance but finds herself caught up by the melody, and due to being alone in the apartment, she feels like she has a chance to without the potentiality of being laughed at. She isn’t exactly the best at dancing, after all.
Being so distracted by her three tasks, Ariel doesn’t hear the front door as it clicks closed. Entering the apartment is her housemate, Cerule - a smartly dressed man in a blue three-quarter length jacket and a red bow tie, which matches nicely with his red eyes and blue hair. He wears white trousers and black, thigh-high boots, along with a pair of black gloves, though it isn’t particularly cold outside. He’s carrying a few shopping bags into the apartment - most of them from their local food store, but one stands out from the rest.
“Hello?” he calls, and though he gets no response from inside the house, Cerule can tell that someone is home from the smell of the food and the sound of the radio. Putting the bags down on the floor for a moment, he takes off his jacket and hangs it up before kicking off his boots - lining them up against the wall beside Ariel’s.
Retrieving the bags, he makes his way into the apartment, following the sounds of the radio. As he moves into the kitchen, Cerule is greeted by the sight of Ariel dancing. She’s moving back and forth between the stove and the countertop where her sketches are strewn about; oblivious to his arrival, she’s even begun to hum along softly to the music.
For a few moments, Cerule watches with an amused smile on his face. But when he finds that the bags are starting to feel heavier and heavier in his grip, he decides to clear his throat loudly and places all the bags - minus one - upon a free countertop. He puts the last one down on the ground beside the work surface, then turns his full attention to a - now mortified - Ariel.
She’d jumped the moment that she heard the sound of his throat being cleared, and turned to face him - abruptly forgetting about the food and the design sketches.
“You scared me! Why didn’t you tell me that you were back?” Ariel scolds, generating a small laugh of amusement from Cerule in response. She scowls at him, picking up the dishcloth from the counter beside her and throwing it in his direction.
Cerule effortlessly catches the rag with one hand, shaking his head and letting out another chuckle as he places it down on the counter beside the bags.
“I did, but you were too busy dancing away to notice,” he tells her, a charming smile on his features as he continues to speak, “By the way, you’re not half bad. With a couple of lessons, I think you’d be pretty great at it.”
“What? No, I--”
“I could even teach you. I know how to dance a thing or two,” Cerule interrupts, seeming persistent on the matter.
“I’m not going to--”
“I also got you a gift today.”
That makes her pause. Cerule crouches down to pull a shoebox out of the bag that’s on the floor, standing back up before holding it out to her. Ariel tilts her head, moving a few steps closer and taking the box from his hands.
“I think they’ll suit you,” he tells her as she opens the box, revealing a pair of black stilettos inside. Immediately her features turn downwards into a soft scowl as she shakes her head.
“Cerule, my boots are the most comfortable pair of shoes that I own, you know that. If this is another ploy between you and Russet…”
“It’s not, I swear. I honestly just thought they would look good on you,” Cerule insists, giving her another fond smile.
She sighs and decides to give them at least an honest look over. They didn’t seem to be her style at all, and she can’t help but frown as she thinks this. She’d much rather wear her comfortable pair of boots whenever she needs to go out anywhere.
Distracted by the gift, she doesn’t notice the pan for the pasta beginning to boil over behind her. It isn’t until there’s the sound of hissing as the water overflows and spills out onto the hot stove that she takes note.
Gasping, Ariel quickly shoves the shoebox into Cerulee’s hands so that she can turn back to tend to the food. She switches off the stove, removing both of the pans from the heat and giving the cheese sauce a good stir with a wooden spoon, though a portion of it is already burnt and stuck to the bottom.
“Look what you and your shoes have made me do,” she scolds, though there’s no real malice behind her words. It was just an accident, caused by Ariel’s momentary lapse in concentration and they both know that.
Cerule watches as she strains the water from the macaroni in the sink, then tips the pasta into the pan with the cheese sauce. Giving the food a good stir to combine it, Ariel then pours the finished meal into two separate bowls that were laid out on the counter, before putting the empty pans in the sink and turning back to face Cerule.
“You know that I don’t do well in heels. They’re definitely not my style.”
“Well, at least try them on for me, to see if they fit?” he asks now that she doesn’t have their meal to worry about, “When I take them back, I’ll get something that’s more ‘you’. But I need to make sure I got your size right, I’d hate to return things twice…”
Letting out a long sigh, Ariel nods, abandoning the bowls of food on the side for the time being as she steps closer to her friend. She takes the shoebox and makes her way to the couch. Sitting down, she takes one of the shoes from the box and reluctantly pulls it on.
“It fits,” she tells him, already moving to take it back off.
“No, no, you have to try them both on. One foot might be bigger than the other.”
She gives him a look, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s very common in people, actually,” Cerule informs her.
Rolling her eyes, Ariel takes the second stiletto and slips it on, looking up at him with an expression that easily reads ‘are you happy now?’ Immediately, Cerule breaks out into a mischievous grin, reaching out and taking hold of her hands to pull her up to her feet. She lets out a small noise of surprise, stumbling slightly from the new feeling of wearing heels. It was very, very obvious that Ariel isn’t used to it, but Cerule keeps a firm grip on her hands - not about to let her fall.
“Cerule!” Ariel laughs, trying to pull back from his grasp so that she could sit back down, though he held onto her firmly; “I never said I was going to walk around in them!”
“You’re not walking - I’m going to teach you to dance in them,” he responds, watching as she wobbles on her feet once again, “I’ve got you. Don’t throw your weight forward like that; stand up straight and relax.”
“Talk about throwing me in the deep end, Cerule,” Ariel complains light-heartedly, though straightens her back slightly like he’d told her to do.
“There you go! Now remember that it’s heel-toe when you step, not your entire foot at once,” he continues to teach, stepping back and gently pulling her with him. Ariel tries her best to follow his instructions, taking a clumsy step forward and laughing once again.
However, as she puts her heel down before the toe of the second shoe, she finds herself able to keep her balance mostly by herself. Cerule looks proud, loosening his grip slightly though still keeping hold of her.
“There you go! Now we go backwards…”
He takes two steps forward, and Ariel instinctively takes two steps back, falling into step with him. She looks up from where her gaze had been on her feet, meeting his gaze with a faint grin - which he happily returns.
“And I thought you said you wouldn’t take dance lessons from me?” Cerule says cheekily, which prompts Ariel to tut.
“You didn’t give me a choice!” she replies, continuing to move back and forth across the living room floor with him - quickly realising that he was keeping to the rhythm of the music from the radio.
After a little while, Cerule pulls back slightly, letting go of one of her hands. He raises her other above her head, carefully spinning her underneath their arms and receiving a soft laugh from her. Ariel stumbles slightly but quickly regains her balance as she returns to holding onto both of his hands.
The pair continue with this playful routine until the third song ends, at which point Cerule can tell that Ariel was starting to get tired. He releases his hold on one of her hands again, taking a step back and giving her a regal bow.
“It’s been a pleasure, m’lady,” he tells her charmingly, though that mischievous grin is still plastered across his features. Ariel simply rolls her eyes in response, knowing Cerule far too well by this point.
“Can I take these things off now?” is all that she questions in response. Her friend nods, leading her back across to the couch and helping her to sit down; it is at this point that Cerule finally lets go of her hands, leaning against the arm of the sofa as he watches her remove the shoes and place them back in the box.
“At least I know that they fit you. Now we have to find an event for you to wear them at,” Cerule muses, pretending to look thoughtful. Ariel reaches over and gently hits his forearm with the back of her hand, scowling playfully at him.
“You said you’d take them back and get me something different!”
“Did I?”
Ariel sighs melodramatically, closing up the box before passing it across to him. He takes it, propping it up under one arm.
“Want to watch a movie? A new horror movie just got added to that streaming service we have,” Ariel suggests, motioning to the television across the room opposite from the couch.
Cerule moves over to grab the remote and sits down, placing the box on the floor beside the couch and turning the television on, giving her a smile and a nod.
“Sounds good to me.”
As they’re waiting for the streaming service to boot up, a sudden realisation hits Ariel; she jumps up, quickly moving back to the kitchen. Cerule watches her, slightly confused before he remembers that she had been cooking when he returned home.
Ariel quickly grabs the two, now semi-cold bowls of macaroni and cheese from the counter, moving to reheat them to a more pleasant temperature.
While she waits for their meals to reheat, she gets to work putting away the shopping that Cerule had brought home, finding that most of it is easy to fit in the cupboards and the fridge. Almost the moment she finishes up doing so, the timer goes off, and she moves to retrieve their bowls of food, bringing them out into the lounge-area and placing them down on the coffee table.
“Dinner, dancing and a movie - I can’t imagine a better way to spend the evening,” Cerule smiles, picking up his bowl and beginning to tuck in, while Ariel sits down on the couch beside him. She places a pillow on her lap, putting the bowl on top of it and using it as a makeshift tray.
“It’s only mac and cheese, Cerule,” she tells him, not seeming as impressed as he is.
“But it’s your mac and cheese, which means that it tastes like heaven.”
She chuckles and presses play on the television remote, shifting her attention back toward the screen.
The rest of the evening was spent eating good food and hiding behind pillows to protect themselves from the events taking place on the screen, and they were more than glad that they shared an apartment together.
Blue eyes are fixated on the sketch, while cherry blossom-coloured hair that easily reaches her waist is pushed back over her shoulders to stop it from falling in the food. Two red bows are pinned in her hair, while some bangs fall in her face but don’t entirely cover her eyes. She wears a pink tank top and some baggy, black sweatpants with black and red socks poking out from underneath. Her regular boots are propped up beside the apartment’s front door, while her fingerless gloves are cast aside on the coffee table in the living room.
The two pots for the macaroni and the cheese sauce are simmering on the stove. Ariel has measured out enough pasta for both her and her housemate when he returns from class, giving them both a hearty meal. Speaking of which, he is already late coming home. He must have gotten side-tracked on the way back. At least that gives her time to cook the meal for the pair of them without needing to rush.
She reaches across to stir the sauce with a wooden spoon, using her free hand, whilst her second continues to hold the pencil. Her hips are swaying in time with the music, head nodding to the beat. Ariel wasn’t trying to dance but finds herself caught up by the melody, and due to being alone in the apartment, she feels like she has a chance to without the potentiality of being laughed at. She isn’t exactly the best at dancing, after all.
Being so distracted by her three tasks, Ariel doesn’t hear the front door as it clicks closed. Entering the apartment is her housemate, Cerule - a smartly dressed man in a blue three-quarter length jacket and a red bow tie, which matches nicely with his red eyes and blue hair. He wears white trousers and black, thigh-high boots, along with a pair of black gloves, though it isn’t particularly cold outside. He’s carrying a few shopping bags into the apartment - most of them from their local food store, but one stands out from the rest.
“Hello?” he calls, and though he gets no response from inside the house, Cerule can tell that someone is home from the smell of the food and the sound of the radio. Putting the bags down on the floor for a moment, he takes off his jacket and hangs it up before kicking off his boots - lining them up against the wall beside Ariel’s.
Retrieving the bags, he makes his way into the apartment, following the sounds of the radio. As he moves into the kitchen, Cerule is greeted by the sight of Ariel dancing. She’s moving back and forth between the stove and the countertop where her sketches are strewn about; oblivious to his arrival, she’s even begun to hum along softly to the music.
For a few moments, Cerule watches with an amused smile on his face. But when he finds that the bags are starting to feel heavier and heavier in his grip, he decides to clear his throat loudly and places all the bags - minus one - upon a free countertop. He puts the last one down on the ground beside the work surface, then turns his full attention to a - now mortified - Ariel.
She’d jumped the moment that she heard the sound of his throat being cleared, and turned to face him - abruptly forgetting about the food and the design sketches.
“You scared me! Why didn’t you tell me that you were back?” Ariel scolds, generating a small laugh of amusement from Cerule in response. She scowls at him, picking up the dishcloth from the counter beside her and throwing it in his direction.
Cerule effortlessly catches the rag with one hand, shaking his head and letting out another chuckle as he places it down on the counter beside the bags.
“I did, but you were too busy dancing away to notice,” he tells her, a charming smile on his features as he continues to speak, “By the way, you’re not half bad. With a couple of lessons, I think you’d be pretty great at it.”
“What? No, I--”
“I could even teach you. I know how to dance a thing or two,” Cerule interrupts, seeming persistent on the matter.
“I’m not going to--”
“I also got you a gift today.”
That makes her pause. Cerule crouches down to pull a shoebox out of the bag that’s on the floor, standing back up before holding it out to her. Ariel tilts her head, moving a few steps closer and taking the box from his hands.
“I think they’ll suit you,” he tells her as she opens the box, revealing a pair of black stilettos inside. Immediately her features turn downwards into a soft scowl as she shakes her head.
“Cerule, my boots are the most comfortable pair of shoes that I own, you know that. If this is another ploy between you and Russet…”
“It’s not, I swear. I honestly just thought they would look good on you,” Cerule insists, giving her another fond smile.
She sighs and decides to give them at least an honest look over. They didn’t seem to be her style at all, and she can’t help but frown as she thinks this. She’d much rather wear her comfortable pair of boots whenever she needs to go out anywhere.
Distracted by the gift, she doesn’t notice the pan for the pasta beginning to boil over behind her. It isn’t until there’s the sound of hissing as the water overflows and spills out onto the hot stove that she takes note.
Gasping, Ariel quickly shoves the shoebox into Cerulee’s hands so that she can turn back to tend to the food. She switches off the stove, removing both of the pans from the heat and giving the cheese sauce a good stir with a wooden spoon, though a portion of it is already burnt and stuck to the bottom.
“Look what you and your shoes have made me do,” she scolds, though there’s no real malice behind her words. It was just an accident, caused by Ariel’s momentary lapse in concentration and they both know that.
Cerule watches as she strains the water from the macaroni in the sink, then tips the pasta into the pan with the cheese sauce. Giving the food a good stir to combine it, Ariel then pours the finished meal into two separate bowls that were laid out on the counter, before putting the empty pans in the sink and turning back to face Cerule.
“You know that I don’t do well in heels. They’re definitely not my style.”
“Well, at least try them on for me, to see if they fit?” he asks now that she doesn’t have their meal to worry about, “When I take them back, I’ll get something that’s more ‘you’. But I need to make sure I got your size right, I’d hate to return things twice…”
Letting out a long sigh, Ariel nods, abandoning the bowls of food on the side for the time being as she steps closer to her friend. She takes the shoebox and makes her way to the couch. Sitting down, she takes one of the shoes from the box and reluctantly pulls it on.
“It fits,” she tells him, already moving to take it back off.
“No, no, you have to try them both on. One foot might be bigger than the other.”
She gives him a look, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s very common in people, actually,” Cerule informs her.
Rolling her eyes, Ariel takes the second stiletto and slips it on, looking up at him with an expression that easily reads ‘are you happy now?’ Immediately, Cerule breaks out into a mischievous grin, reaching out and taking hold of her hands to pull her up to her feet. She lets out a small noise of surprise, stumbling slightly from the new feeling of wearing heels. It was very, very obvious that Ariel isn’t used to it, but Cerule keeps a firm grip on her hands - not about to let her fall.
“Cerule!” Ariel laughs, trying to pull back from his grasp so that she could sit back down, though he held onto her firmly; “I never said I was going to walk around in them!”
“You’re not walking - I’m going to teach you to dance in them,” he responds, watching as she wobbles on her feet once again, “I’ve got you. Don’t throw your weight forward like that; stand up straight and relax.”
“Talk about throwing me in the deep end, Cerule,” Ariel complains light-heartedly, though straightens her back slightly like he’d told her to do.
“There you go! Now remember that it’s heel-toe when you step, not your entire foot at once,” he continues to teach, stepping back and gently pulling her with him. Ariel tries her best to follow his instructions, taking a clumsy step forward and laughing once again.
However, as she puts her heel down before the toe of the second shoe, she finds herself able to keep her balance mostly by herself. Cerule looks proud, loosening his grip slightly though still keeping hold of her.
“There you go! Now we go backwards…”
He takes two steps forward, and Ariel instinctively takes two steps back, falling into step with him. She looks up from where her gaze had been on her feet, meeting his gaze with a faint grin - which he happily returns.
“And I thought you said you wouldn’t take dance lessons from me?” Cerule says cheekily, which prompts Ariel to tut.
“You didn’t give me a choice!” she replies, continuing to move back and forth across the living room floor with him - quickly realising that he was keeping to the rhythm of the music from the radio.
After a little while, Cerule pulls back slightly, letting go of one of her hands. He raises her other above her head, carefully spinning her underneath their arms and receiving a soft laugh from her. Ariel stumbles slightly but quickly regains her balance as she returns to holding onto both of his hands.
The pair continue with this playful routine until the third song ends, at which point Cerule can tell that Ariel was starting to get tired. He releases his hold on one of her hands again, taking a step back and giving her a regal bow.
“It’s been a pleasure, m’lady,” he tells her charmingly, though that mischievous grin is still plastered across his features. Ariel simply rolls her eyes in response, knowing Cerule far too well by this point.
“Can I take these things off now?” is all that she questions in response. Her friend nods, leading her back across to the couch and helping her to sit down; it is at this point that Cerule finally lets go of her hands, leaning against the arm of the sofa as he watches her remove the shoes and place them back in the box.
“At least I know that they fit you. Now we have to find an event for you to wear them at,” Cerule muses, pretending to look thoughtful. Ariel reaches over and gently hits his forearm with the back of her hand, scowling playfully at him.
“You said you’d take them back and get me something different!”
“Did I?”
Ariel sighs melodramatically, closing up the box before passing it across to him. He takes it, propping it up under one arm.
“Want to watch a movie? A new horror movie just got added to that streaming service we have,” Ariel suggests, motioning to the television across the room opposite from the couch.
Cerule moves over to grab the remote and sits down, placing the box on the floor beside the couch and turning the television on, giving her a smile and a nod.
“Sounds good to me.”
As they’re waiting for the streaming service to boot up, a sudden realisation hits Ariel; she jumps up, quickly moving back to the kitchen. Cerule watches her, slightly confused before he remembers that she had been cooking when he returned home.
Ariel quickly grabs the two, now semi-cold bowls of macaroni and cheese from the counter, moving to reheat them to a more pleasant temperature.
While she waits for their meals to reheat, she gets to work putting away the shopping that Cerule had brought home, finding that most of it is easy to fit in the cupboards and the fridge. Almost the moment she finishes up doing so, the timer goes off, and she moves to retrieve their bowls of food, bringing them out into the lounge-area and placing them down on the coffee table.
“Dinner, dancing and a movie - I can’t imagine a better way to spend the evening,” Cerule smiles, picking up his bowl and beginning to tuck in, while Ariel sits down on the couch beside him. She places a pillow on her lap, putting the bowl on top of it and using it as a makeshift tray.
“It’s only mac and cheese, Cerule,” she tells him, not seeming as impressed as he is.
“But it’s your mac and cheese, which means that it tastes like heaven.”
She chuckles and presses play on the television remote, shifting her attention back toward the screen.
The rest of the evening was spent eating good food and hiding behind pillows to protect themselves from the events taking place on the screen, and they were more than glad that they shared an apartment together.
MY CHARACTERS
Romero Frostcreek - D&D-based character, can be used for high fantasy settings too.
More to be added as I finish their character sheets!
More to be added as I finish their character sheets!
Annnd I think that's all.
Please feel free to drop me a message if you're at all interested, or just want to talk! I'm happy to make new friends as well as writing partners!
I hope to hear from some of you soon!
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