Tryss
One Thousand Club
<p>Note:</p>
<p>
It's been brought to my attention a few times now that my writing style and length may be a little intimidating.</p>
<p>
Please don't feel that way. If something interests you, reach out.</p>
<p>
This is a judgement free zone.</p>
<p>
Note:</p>
<p>
I'm always down for non-binary, trans, or gender fluid character pairings as well. I don't play them, because I don't feel as though I could accurately portray them, but if YOU want to play one, I'm always down for that.</p>
<p>
<strong>A little about myself:</strong></p>
<p>
While my name is not, in fact, Tryss, that's what I go by. So, for the sake of argument, my name is Tryss.</p>
<p>
The summer months are a little busy for me. I like to spend as much time outdoors as possible. However, I generally check my phone throughout the day, and since I work from home in a really flexible sort of position, I am able, for the most part, to answer posts relatively quickly.</p>
<p>
That isn't to say that I don't experience writer's block. I do. However, I will always let you know, and that doesn't mean I'm not down to chat, I just might not get a reply out for a day or so.</p>
<p>
I don't like mean people. Your character can be the biggest asshole ever, but please be polite in OOC.</p>
<p>
I am ALWAYS open to critique. As stated, English isn't my first language, and as such, I'm aware that sometimes my sentences are clunky or weirdly worded. If you notice, tell me! I can't improve if no one's willing to point out my mistakes. <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile.png" alt="
" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /></p>
<p>
I use smilies...a lot! (only in OOC) So prepare yourself! ^.^ <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/blink.png" alt=" O.o " srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/blink@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /><img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile.png" alt=" " srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /> -.- :') <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/biggrin.png" alt=" 
" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/biggrin@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /> ^.^"</p>
<p>
I cannot handle anime. Yes, I'm aware that I'm Japanese. No, that doesn't mean I like anime. I've literally never watched any of it other than Dragon Ball Z (which I love...a lot). So, unless you wanna talk about Goku or Vegeta, I won't understand any references.</p>
<p>
<strong>RP preferences and styles:</strong></p>
<p>
I enjoy the nitty-gritty. Blood, guts and gore is my jam (Outdated 80's lingo is also my jam).</p>
<p>
I am a detailed RPer. This means that most of my posts are between 15-20 paragraphs. (Although I don't expect for anyone to mirror me. As long as your posts are legible, clear and semi-detailed, I'm down.)</p>
<p>
I play both male and female characters equally, and play a variety of races.</p>
<p>
All of my characters have at least one major flaw, and many of them either have shady pasts, or are junkies/alcoholics.</p>
<p>
Most of my characters are pansexual. Mostly because I'm pansexual, and it's easiest for me to identify as that. I have a hard time playing anyone straight because I simply don't understand it.</p>
<p>
I loath one-liners with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.</p>
<p>
If face-claims are used, I highly prefer realistic art or actual photographs. That being said...I have nothing against my partner using whatever they want.</p>
<p>
<strong>Limits/Triggers</strong></p>
<p>
I don't have much in the way of triggers. But miscarriages and the death of children under the age of 2, is a no-go.</p>
<p>
I think pregnancy RPs are weird. I don't like having pregnancy involved in it at all. It always takes a sort of fetish turn every time I've seen it done...and frankly...it's strange. So that too is a no-go.</p>
<p>
I require that all sex scenes are fade to black.</p>
<p>
If romance happens, I like for it to be organic. That being said, if my partner is under the age of 18, I will only do platonic relationships as I'm over 18.</p>
<p>
<strong>Samples</strong></p>
<p>
Please send a writing sample! Mine is below:</p>
<p>
</p>
<div class="ipsSpoiler" data-ipsspoiler="">
<div class="ipsSpoiler_header"><span></span></div>
<div class="ipsSpoiler_contents">
<p>
Cameron sat in the back of the green Ford Edge. The Chicago scenery had melted away long ago, giving way to other cities, and eventually, a countryside. Why the actual fuck his father had insisted they drive when they could have very well of flown was beyond him. He had no interest in being stuck in the car with the woman he was affectionately referring to as ‘Satan incarnate’ at the moment.</p>
<p>
The nickname had been entirely unintentional. He’d used the phrase to refer to her last night, and she’d thrown a fit about it. Expecting her new husband to defend her, when he didn’t, she screamed, threw things, and all in all acted as though she was six years old. It pissed her off, faster and more efficiently than anything else Cameron had discovered thus far. Cameron just couldn’t pass up a chance to do that to the woman who was, essentially ruining his life.</p>
<p>
She’d made him quit his job. His job! He’d worked so fucking hard to get that position! He’d spent so much money getting his certs so that someone would hire him for more than just oil changes. He was already salty about that. Add that to the fact that her reason for requiring him to quit was so he could attend a camp that would ‘fix’ him. He was livid, and doing everything in his power to make her as uncomfortable as he was.</p>
<p>
He leaned back into the seat, placing his hands behind his head as they turned off of the highway, onto an older looking road. “So, Satan,” He said lazily from the back, amusement colored his words. “Tell me again why I have to go to this place. Dad is perfectly fine with my sexual orientation. Hell, he’s even set me up on a date or two.” He mentioned. It was true, and while those few dates with Brandon and Jamie hadn’t led anywhere - mostly because Cameron just wasn’t ready for a relationship yet, after Dave – they’d still happened, and they’d happened because of his father’s willingness to accept who he was.</p>
<p>
Darlene shot Fredrick a look, but he ignored it entirely, he’d agreed to force his son to come here, that was as far as he was willing to take this. He wouldn’t agree with her that his son’s lifestyle was a choice, nor would he agree that he was the abomination she kept saying he was.</p>
<p>
“Because, Cameron,” Darlene’s voice danced on the edge of irritation. Though she was trying to force as much patience and kindness into it as possible, she still didn’t fool anyone. “I’m trying to help you save your immortal soul. You don’t want to burn in hell for eternity do you?” She asked.</p>
<p>
“Oh, now that all depends Darlene.” Cameron spat out her name as though it were poison. “Are you gonna be there? Because I’ve got to say, if I’m going to hell, I at least want to be able to get plowed by a few dudes without your nagging.”</p>
<p>
“Cameron.” Fredrick warned, his voice was colored with irritation as he slowed the car to take a left turn.</p>
<p>
“What?” Cameron asked innocently, “If I’m going to burn in hell forever, I’d like for it to be without Darlene, and I’d really like for it to be accompanied with good sex.”</p>
<p>
“Cameron, seriously, enough.” Fredrick chided, running a hand through short salt and pepper hair. His green eyes were on the road, his features were twisted with obvious discomfort. He didn’t want to be doing this any more than Cameron did, but it was the only way to keep Darlene happy, and he couldn’t have someone else leave him. He wasn’t trying to be mean or nasty, he just wasn’t really thinking about how his son would feel about all this.</p>
<p>
“No. It’s not enough, dad.” Cameron answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “You damn wife is forcing me –“</p>
<p>
“Language.” Darlene interjected, but her words were quickly drown out by Cameron’s argument.</p>
<p>
Cameron shot her a dirty look as he continued. “ – to go to some camp because she thinks I’m ‘damaged goods’. Apparently liking a cock shoved up your –“</p>
<p>
Darlene’s eyes widened, her fingers curled around her skirt, her jaw fell open. She sputtered, but couldn’t get a word out before her husband interjected, thankfully.</p>
<p>
“CAMERON!” Fredrick shouted. “That is absolutely enough young man! You will <strong><em>not</em></strong>use that type of language around me or Darlene! Is that understood?” He asked</p>
<p>
“Nope.” Cameron answered. “You wanna know why, father-dearest?” Cameron spat sarcastically. “Because all my life, you haven’t taken issue with this. When I came to you when I was seven fucking years old and I told you that I had a crush on Mike Peterson, you told me that it was okay. You told me that you loved me no matter what, and you told me that it didn’t make me less of a person, and I should never be ashamed of who I was. You said that being gay, bi, trans, anything at all, was okay. When I got older, and I came home with my first boyfriend, you sat me down, at the age of fifteen and you told me that what happens between two or more consenting adults was no one else’s business. You <em>told me </em>you’d never pull this sort of fucked up shit! And now you’re telling me that something’s wrong, all because of doll-face over here,” He shouted, motioning toward Darlene. “Because you’re too afraid that she’ll leave you like mom did!”</p>
<p>
“Cameron!” Darlene gasped as though she’d never heard such a terrible thing thrown at anyone. Fredrick visibly balked, and Darlene rested a hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry, he’s just angry.” Darlene assured Fredrick.</p>
<p>
“Don’t you fucking apologize for me, bitch.” Cameron spat. “I’m not fucking sorry. Wanna know why I’m not sorry?” He asked, shooting daggers to his father. “Because mom didn’t just leave <em>you</em>, dad. She left me too.” Those words, he knew, would cut Fredrick to the bone, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to hurt him in the same way that Fredrick had hurt him. He needed him to understand that they had always been a team, they’d always been there for one another, and now, Fredrick was throwing that all away because of some slut he’d met at a casino two years prior.</p>
<p>
“Okay! Enough!” Darlene’s ear-splitting voice rang out suddenly. “We’re done! We’re done arguing about this! You’re going to the camp! You’re going to behave, and you’re going to come out better for it. You understand?”</p>
<p>
The argument was over. But not because Darlene said it was. It was over because they turned into a large parking lot, where buses awaited to whisk him away. And somehow it all hit home for Cameron. A tiny glimmer of hope he hadn’t known he was still holding onto was snuffed out suddenly. He realized his father wasn’t going to change his mind, turn around, and break up with Darlene.</p>
<p>
This was really happening.</p>
<p>
He was really going to force him to attend this stupid camp.</p>
<p>
The three of them got out of the car in complete silence. Darlene looked around, and pulled her summer shawl closed. Her hands folded in front of her. “Well, now, see, this isn’t so bad. Right, Cameron?” She asked, motioning toward the trees on the other side of the parking lot. “I always thought Texas was just barren wasteland, but this…this is actually really pretty. Much better than the concrete jungle back home. I’m a little jealous.”</p>
<p>
Cameron pushed aside the irritation he was feeling at her words, and bit his tongue. Blowing up at her right now wasn’t going to fix anything. He needed to talk to his dad, so he did just that. He leaned up against the car, his muscular arms folded over his chest, hard, green eyes stared up at his father. “You really gonna do this, dad?” He asked. “You really gonna throw away the last seventeen years for some chick? Dad…we’ve been a team since mom left. We’ve been through hell together, and we’ve come out on top. I was there for you through everything, when you lost your job, I was your cheerleader. When you had to get surgery, I was right there to help you through it. You helped me work through losing Dave. You helped me get through that pain. You took a fucking week off work, and we sat on the couch together and watched Disney movies, and ate ice cream, and you let me cry for like five days straight before you even tried to broach the subject of closure. You helped me sneak into a god damned cemetery so I could leave flowers at Dave’s grave. You helped me write him a letter and you took me out to the woods and we fucking burned it and we poured out a few of his favorite drinks and we buried some of his favorite foods because you wanted to help me get over him. You were<em>there.</em> Iwas<em>there.</em>You’ve only known Darlene for like…what? Two years? What the fuck are you even doing? Why are you going to throw away everything we had for her? I’m not good enough anymore?” He asked, his eyes glimmering with sadness and pain. “All those years you spent telling me that I was perfect the way I was…that’s not valid anymore?” He demanded.</p>
<p>
Fredrick winced away at most of the words, knowing deep down that his son was right. He was throwing away so much for a girl that he wasn’t even sure he could keep. Sure, they’d gotten married, but he and Deb had been married too, when she’d taken off. “Cameron,” Fredrick began. “I – I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. Of course, I don’t think you need fixing. Of course, I don’t think you’re an abomination, and of course, I think you’re perfect the way you are. Cam, I love you, more than anything else-“</p>
<p>
“Apparently not.” Cameron spat out, not even bothering to look back at his dad. “Apparently I’m second best when it comes to Ms. High-and-Mighty over there.” He said motioning toward Darlene.</p>
<p>
“Cam, that’s not it,” His father insisted, his voice strained, his eyes begging his son to understand, but it was no use. Cameron was pissed.</p>
<p>
“Oh? That’s not it?” Cameron asked. “Then what exactly is it, Fredrick?” He father winced at the mention of his name. Cameron had never, not once, used his name instead of ‘dad’ when referring to him. “What? You’re just…pussy whipped?” He asked</p>
<p>
“Cameron, that’s not fair-“ Fredrick began.</p>
<p>
Cameron pushed away from the car, opened the back door and grabbed his backpack and his suitcase out. “No, you know what? It isn’t fair, Fred. It isn’t fair that you’re the only person I’ve ever had to depend upon my entire life, and now you’re doing this. It isn’t fair that the one person in the world who is<em>supposed</em>to be on my team is turning his back on me. It’s not fair, Fred. It’s really not.” His voice was venomous, all sadness had leaked away from his eyes, leaving only ire in its wake. He moved away from the car, his eyes staring into Fredrick’s as he swelled up on him. His face just inches away from his father’s. He was bigger than Fredrick. He was stronger than Fredrick. He had his suspicions that that was why his father’s drunken outbursts had ended about three years ago. “I’ll make this easy for you.” Cameron seethed. “I’ll just fucking go. I’ll go inside, and I’ll stay the four god damned weeks, and when I get back, I’ll leave again. I’ll find someone to stay with. Maybe Greg or Arianna. But I won’t be home again.” He promised. “I really hope this one sticks around,” He said, stabbing a thumb in Darlene’s direction. She was watching the display with horrified eyes. “Because if she doesn’t…you’ll be all alone.” He promised.</p>
<p>
With that, he turned around, and began to walk away. “Wait!” His father called behind him with a pained voice. “Cameron!”</p>
<p>
“Save it.” Cameron answered, flipping his father off as he walked away from the car. For the first time since they’d stopped, Cameron took a moment to look around.</p>
<p>
The place was a fucking madhouse.</p>
<p>
Buses were lined up. Parents were saying goodbye to children. Children were either ignoring them, or begging through tears not to leave them. Some parents looked livid, some disappointed, some were even crying, though Cameron couldn’t place the emotion behind the tears. One would think sadness, but if they were feeling guilty about it…wouldn’t they just take their babies home with them?</p>
<p>
Maybe not.</p>
<p>
What the fuck did Cameron know about this anyway?</p>
<p>
Nothing. Not a god damned thing. That’s what.</p>
<p>
Cameron moved past the group, wading through a sea of emotions, keeping his face as stony as possible. But he couldn’t stop his wandering eyes. There were some damn fine dudes up in this joint. He bit his lower lip, and shot a flirtatious glance at a tall, black teenager who leaned against the first bus. He was wearing a skin-tight wife-beater that hugged his muscular body in all the right ways, his shorts left little to the imagination, and Jesus Christ did Cameron ever a want a piece of that –</p>
<p>
His dirty thoughts were cut short by an angry glare from a much older, much larger man. The brute looked to be over six feet, and weighed probably double what Cameron did. He had short-cropped black hair that clung to his scalp in a tantalizing fashion. Cameron had always had a thing for African hair. It was beautiful, it was adorable, it was sexy as all hell. Unfortunately, this hair was attached to an obviously bigoted man, who seemed very, very protective of his…son? Nephew? Random acquaintance?</p>
<p>
Who knew?</p>
<p>
Cameron may have been a horn dog of epic proportions, but he wasn’t about to start anything, especially not with someone twice his size. That dude looked like he could have picked him up and snapped him like a twig. So Cameron kept walking, hoping that perhaps he and the dark-skinned prince, find themselves in the same campsite. If he was going to be stuck someplace for four god damned weeks, he was sure as hell gonna get laid, and from the looks of it, this place was dude central.</p>
<p>
The best part? Every dude here was interested in other dudes! There was no guesswork involved! A smile crept along Cameron’s face, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of idiot could possibly think that shoving a bunch of gay kids together in a camp for four weeks was somehow going to magically "cure" them…instead of leading to random hookups.</p>
<p>
And random hookups was exactly what Cameron had in mind.</p>
<p>
Cameron had three boxes of condoms in his bag. He’d managed to sneak them in there the day before they’d headed out on this god-forsaken trip. He’d also stashed away five packs of cigarettes, which really didn’t seem like enough, but he was willing to make them stretch. Maybe he could even buy some more off someone else. He couldn't be the only smoker here.</p>
<p>
He'd wondered, on several occasions, if their bags were going to be searched for 'contraband'. If they were, he'd surely loose access to both his hidden treasures. If these losers knew what was good for them they most certainly would not attempt to take the only two pleasures he had left to his name away from him. The only activities he had to distract him from the anger that still burned in his chest was sex and smoking.</p>
<p>
He intended to do copious amounts of both.</p>
<p>
He managed to push past a group of teen girls, who had for one reason or another decided that the best place to gather was right in the middle of the god damned sidewalk.</p>
<p>
Their perfume mingled with the smell of the outdoors and gasoline. Jesus they smelled good. Like bubblegum and cotton candy. Cameron glanced down, they were pretty. Their hair caught in tight curls, or smoothed against their skulls, their skin an array of colors from very ashen, to yellow, to dark. A rainbow of teenage girls. They were chattering about something, but he couldn’t make anything out past the dull roar of the hundreds of voices that mingled together out here.</p>
<p>
He’d never understand the mentality some gay men had. They didn’t like women at all. They pretended as though they couldn’t tell the difference between a good-looking girl, and an absolute troll. Personally, Cameron had never believed them. He just thought they wanted to seem…more gay…maybe? Or maybe he was just weird. He wasn’t sure.</p>
<p>
He could tell when a girl was pretty, or when she smelled nice. Hell, all of his friends, save for one, were of the female persuasion. He’d spent entire days at their houses, they’d cuddles in huge piles together. He greatly enjoyed cuddling with girls. They were soft. They smelled better than dudes.</p>
<p>
He didn’t want to fuck any of them, but they were good for cuddle buddies.</p>
<p>
Cameron boarded a bus behind another group of girls, they sat down close to the front of the bus. That seemed like a dangerous decision. If counselors were anything like teachers, there’d be one on every bus, and they’d sit toward the front. Cameron was not even remotely interested in getting involved with that sort of crazy. (Anyone willing to counsel a place like this was from the Devil himself, Cameron was positively certain of it.) So he chose a free seat way in the back, where he could survey the group, and maybe scope out some of the more attractive men.</p>
<p>
<strong>PLOTS</strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Dead Zone</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
Everyone always said the world would end with a virus of some sort. That humans would turn into mindless eating machines without any real choice in the matter of who or what they killed.</p>
<p>
It’s probably easier to think about that sort of thing than it is the reality.</p>
<p>
The world fell apart two hundred years ago. Sure, for a while, cars worked, but when parts broke, and eventually there wasn’t any more to replace it, since factories and shipping facilities were shut down, they were eventually all junked.</p>
<p>
Humans live in a sort of half modern, half old-fashioned world. Gone are the amenities of a time of peace. They crumbled along with the empires when the world fell into anarchy. The world is controlled by gangs. Canabalism is alive and well, and people generally seem to be no better than animals.</p>
<p>
There are six major gangs around the area that was once New York. The largest is controlled by a vile man named Damien. He has no problems stealing, pillaging, and plundering.</p>
<p>
A larger gang has been moving through the eastern states, and demolishing gangs. In an effort to defend their territory, Damien decides to try to merge his gang with the second largest in the area. It’s run by a (man or woman) of equal moral disregard. In a last attempt to gain their allegiance, he offers up his youngest (son or daughter).</p>
<p>
A deal is struck, unfortunately, his youngest child now belongs to someone else.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Zombies</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
A manufactured disease is released upon the human race either accidentally, or by means of chemical warfare. Zombies happen, and now our characters are fighting to survive. The zombies are slow, dumb, and clumsy. It takes 6 minutes from death to zombification. Once bitten death occurs within 48 hours.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Till death do us part</strong></strong></p>
<p>
The world is undeveloped, tribes of people live along the land in harmony with the animals.</p>
<p>
However, war among themselves is a very real problem. Two tribes have been warring for longer than anyone can remember. The chief, in an effort to stop it, gathers together four of his most beautiful men and four of his most handsome men.</p>
<p>
He offers them up as peace offerings to the chief of their rival tribe.</p>
<p>
The chief is interested in only one, a young man/woman that he intends to add to his many wives/husbands/mix thereof. The man/woman chosen for this will have to try to conform to the new culture of this tribe, while also trying to get along with the chief’s other wives/husbands.</p>
<p>
I’m open to there being a language barrier as well.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Follow the rules</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
Character A was kidnapped as a child and raised as a slave. He/she was owned by a wicked man who used pain as his training method. He burned (literally) a list of twenty rules into their mind. They were rescued, and were reunited with their family.</p>
<p>
However, when things proved to be too hard for both the victim and the family, they were placed elsewhere. Or at least, that’s the story the victim was told. In truth, his/her parents couldn’t bare to see what that mad man had done to them. They couldn’t live with the guilt, so they sent them away. Hoping to erase the painful memories.</p>
<p>
They were placed in a home that specializes in working with kids who are beyond help. There is one other kid living with them currently. They’re going to be slowly reintroduced to the world. They may develop a friendship with the other foster child.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
I AM OPEN TO PLAYING ANY OF THESE ROLES. I'll play either dominant or submissive, it doesn't matter to me.</strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Pitch me your ideas!!!</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
Plotless pairings</strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
Master x slave</p>
<p>
Hostage x hostage</p>
<p>
Pirate x pirate</p>
<p>
Pirate x kidnapped</p>
<p>
Parent x teacher</p>
<p>
Single parent x single parent</p>
</div>
</div>
<p>
It's been brought to my attention a few times now that my writing style and length may be a little intimidating.</p>
<p>
Please don't feel that way. If something interests you, reach out.</p>
<p>
This is a judgement free zone.</p>
<p>
Note:</p>
<p>
I'm always down for non-binary, trans, or gender fluid character pairings as well. I don't play them, because I don't feel as though I could accurately portray them, but if YOU want to play one, I'm always down for that.</p>
<p>
<strong>A little about myself:</strong></p>
<p>
While my name is not, in fact, Tryss, that's what I go by. So, for the sake of argument, my name is Tryss.</p>
<p>
The summer months are a little busy for me. I like to spend as much time outdoors as possible. However, I generally check my phone throughout the day, and since I work from home in a really flexible sort of position, I am able, for the most part, to answer posts relatively quickly.</p>
<p>
That isn't to say that I don't experience writer's block. I do. However, I will always let you know, and that doesn't mean I'm not down to chat, I just might not get a reply out for a day or so.</p>
<p>
I don't like mean people. Your character can be the biggest asshole ever, but please be polite in OOC.</p>
<p>
I am ALWAYS open to critique. As stated, English isn't my first language, and as such, I'm aware that sometimes my sentences are clunky or weirdly worded. If you notice, tell me! I can't improve if no one's willing to point out my mistakes. <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile.png" alt="
" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /></p><p>
I use smilies...a lot! (only in OOC) So prepare yourself! ^.^ <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/blink.png" alt=" O.o " srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/blink@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /><img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile.png" alt="
" srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/smile@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /> -.- :') <img src="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/biggrin.png" alt=" " srcset="<fileStore.core_Emoticons>/emoticons/biggrin@2x.png 2x" width="20" height="20" /> ^.^"</p><p>
I cannot handle anime. Yes, I'm aware that I'm Japanese. No, that doesn't mean I like anime. I've literally never watched any of it other than Dragon Ball Z (which I love...a lot). So, unless you wanna talk about Goku or Vegeta, I won't understand any references.</p>
<p>
<strong>RP preferences and styles:</strong></p>
<p>
I enjoy the nitty-gritty. Blood, guts and gore is my jam (Outdated 80's lingo is also my jam).</p>
<p>
I am a detailed RPer. This means that most of my posts are between 15-20 paragraphs. (Although I don't expect for anyone to mirror me. As long as your posts are legible, clear and semi-detailed, I'm down.)</p>
<p>
I play both male and female characters equally, and play a variety of races.</p>
<p>
All of my characters have at least one major flaw, and many of them either have shady pasts, or are junkies/alcoholics.</p>
<p>
Most of my characters are pansexual. Mostly because I'm pansexual, and it's easiest for me to identify as that. I have a hard time playing anyone straight because I simply don't understand it.</p>
<p>
I loath one-liners with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.</p>
<p>
If face-claims are used, I highly prefer realistic art or actual photographs. That being said...I have nothing against my partner using whatever they want.</p>
<p>
<strong>Limits/Triggers</strong></p>
<p>
I don't have much in the way of triggers. But miscarriages and the death of children under the age of 2, is a no-go.</p>
<p>
I think pregnancy RPs are weird. I don't like having pregnancy involved in it at all. It always takes a sort of fetish turn every time I've seen it done...and frankly...it's strange. So that too is a no-go.</p>
<p>
I require that all sex scenes are fade to black.</p>
<p>
If romance happens, I like for it to be organic. That being said, if my partner is under the age of 18, I will only do platonic relationships as I'm over 18.</p>
<p>
<strong>Samples</strong></p>
<p>
Please send a writing sample! Mine is below:</p>
<p>
</p>
<div class="ipsSpoiler" data-ipsspoiler="">
<div class="ipsSpoiler_header"><span></span></div>
<div class="ipsSpoiler_contents">
<p>
Cameron sat in the back of the green Ford Edge. The Chicago scenery had melted away long ago, giving way to other cities, and eventually, a countryside. Why the actual fuck his father had insisted they drive when they could have very well of flown was beyond him. He had no interest in being stuck in the car with the woman he was affectionately referring to as ‘Satan incarnate’ at the moment.</p>
<p>
The nickname had been entirely unintentional. He’d used the phrase to refer to her last night, and she’d thrown a fit about it. Expecting her new husband to defend her, when he didn’t, she screamed, threw things, and all in all acted as though she was six years old. It pissed her off, faster and more efficiently than anything else Cameron had discovered thus far. Cameron just couldn’t pass up a chance to do that to the woman who was, essentially ruining his life.</p>
<p>
She’d made him quit his job. His job! He’d worked so fucking hard to get that position! He’d spent so much money getting his certs so that someone would hire him for more than just oil changes. He was already salty about that. Add that to the fact that her reason for requiring him to quit was so he could attend a camp that would ‘fix’ him. He was livid, and doing everything in his power to make her as uncomfortable as he was.</p>
<p>
He leaned back into the seat, placing his hands behind his head as they turned off of the highway, onto an older looking road. “So, Satan,” He said lazily from the back, amusement colored his words. “Tell me again why I have to go to this place. Dad is perfectly fine with my sexual orientation. Hell, he’s even set me up on a date or two.” He mentioned. It was true, and while those few dates with Brandon and Jamie hadn’t led anywhere - mostly because Cameron just wasn’t ready for a relationship yet, after Dave – they’d still happened, and they’d happened because of his father’s willingness to accept who he was.</p>
<p>
Darlene shot Fredrick a look, but he ignored it entirely, he’d agreed to force his son to come here, that was as far as he was willing to take this. He wouldn’t agree with her that his son’s lifestyle was a choice, nor would he agree that he was the abomination she kept saying he was.</p>
<p>
“Because, Cameron,” Darlene’s voice danced on the edge of irritation. Though she was trying to force as much patience and kindness into it as possible, she still didn’t fool anyone. “I’m trying to help you save your immortal soul. You don’t want to burn in hell for eternity do you?” She asked.</p>
<p>
“Oh, now that all depends Darlene.” Cameron spat out her name as though it were poison. “Are you gonna be there? Because I’ve got to say, if I’m going to hell, I at least want to be able to get plowed by a few dudes without your nagging.”</p>
<p>
“Cameron.” Fredrick warned, his voice was colored with irritation as he slowed the car to take a left turn.</p>
<p>
“What?” Cameron asked innocently, “If I’m going to burn in hell forever, I’d like for it to be without Darlene, and I’d really like for it to be accompanied with good sex.”</p>
<p>
“Cameron, seriously, enough.” Fredrick chided, running a hand through short salt and pepper hair. His green eyes were on the road, his features were twisted with obvious discomfort. He didn’t want to be doing this any more than Cameron did, but it was the only way to keep Darlene happy, and he couldn’t have someone else leave him. He wasn’t trying to be mean or nasty, he just wasn’t really thinking about how his son would feel about all this.</p>
<p>
“No. It’s not enough, dad.” Cameron answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “You damn wife is forcing me –“</p>
<p>
“Language.” Darlene interjected, but her words were quickly drown out by Cameron’s argument.</p>
<p>
Cameron shot her a dirty look as he continued. “ – to go to some camp because she thinks I’m ‘damaged goods’. Apparently liking a cock shoved up your –“</p>
<p>
Darlene’s eyes widened, her fingers curled around her skirt, her jaw fell open. She sputtered, but couldn’t get a word out before her husband interjected, thankfully.</p>
<p>
“CAMERON!” Fredrick shouted. “That is absolutely enough young man! You will <strong><em>not</em></strong>use that type of language around me or Darlene! Is that understood?” He asked</p>
<p>
“Nope.” Cameron answered. “You wanna know why, father-dearest?” Cameron spat sarcastically. “Because all my life, you haven’t taken issue with this. When I came to you when I was seven fucking years old and I told you that I had a crush on Mike Peterson, you told me that it was okay. You told me that you loved me no matter what, and you told me that it didn’t make me less of a person, and I should never be ashamed of who I was. You said that being gay, bi, trans, anything at all, was okay. When I got older, and I came home with my first boyfriend, you sat me down, at the age of fifteen and you told me that what happens between two or more consenting adults was no one else’s business. You <em>told me </em>you’d never pull this sort of fucked up shit! And now you’re telling me that something’s wrong, all because of doll-face over here,” He shouted, motioning toward Darlene. “Because you’re too afraid that she’ll leave you like mom did!”</p>
<p>
“Cameron!” Darlene gasped as though she’d never heard such a terrible thing thrown at anyone. Fredrick visibly balked, and Darlene rested a hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry, he’s just angry.” Darlene assured Fredrick.</p>
<p>
“Don’t you fucking apologize for me, bitch.” Cameron spat. “I’m not fucking sorry. Wanna know why I’m not sorry?” He asked, shooting daggers to his father. “Because mom didn’t just leave <em>you</em>, dad. She left me too.” Those words, he knew, would cut Fredrick to the bone, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to hurt him in the same way that Fredrick had hurt him. He needed him to understand that they had always been a team, they’d always been there for one another, and now, Fredrick was throwing that all away because of some slut he’d met at a casino two years prior.</p>
<p>
“Okay! Enough!” Darlene’s ear-splitting voice rang out suddenly. “We’re done! We’re done arguing about this! You’re going to the camp! You’re going to behave, and you’re going to come out better for it. You understand?”</p>
<p>
The argument was over. But not because Darlene said it was. It was over because they turned into a large parking lot, where buses awaited to whisk him away. And somehow it all hit home for Cameron. A tiny glimmer of hope he hadn’t known he was still holding onto was snuffed out suddenly. He realized his father wasn’t going to change his mind, turn around, and break up with Darlene.</p>
<p>
This was really happening.</p>
<p>
He was really going to force him to attend this stupid camp.</p>
<p>
The three of them got out of the car in complete silence. Darlene looked around, and pulled her summer shawl closed. Her hands folded in front of her. “Well, now, see, this isn’t so bad. Right, Cameron?” She asked, motioning toward the trees on the other side of the parking lot. “I always thought Texas was just barren wasteland, but this…this is actually really pretty. Much better than the concrete jungle back home. I’m a little jealous.”</p>
<p>
Cameron pushed aside the irritation he was feeling at her words, and bit his tongue. Blowing up at her right now wasn’t going to fix anything. He needed to talk to his dad, so he did just that. He leaned up against the car, his muscular arms folded over his chest, hard, green eyes stared up at his father. “You really gonna do this, dad?” He asked. “You really gonna throw away the last seventeen years for some chick? Dad…we’ve been a team since mom left. We’ve been through hell together, and we’ve come out on top. I was there for you through everything, when you lost your job, I was your cheerleader. When you had to get surgery, I was right there to help you through it. You helped me work through losing Dave. You helped me get through that pain. You took a fucking week off work, and we sat on the couch together and watched Disney movies, and ate ice cream, and you let me cry for like five days straight before you even tried to broach the subject of closure. You helped me sneak into a god damned cemetery so I could leave flowers at Dave’s grave. You helped me write him a letter and you took me out to the woods and we fucking burned it and we poured out a few of his favorite drinks and we buried some of his favorite foods because you wanted to help me get over him. You were<em>there.</em> Iwas<em>there.</em>You’ve only known Darlene for like…what? Two years? What the fuck are you even doing? Why are you going to throw away everything we had for her? I’m not good enough anymore?” He asked, his eyes glimmering with sadness and pain. “All those years you spent telling me that I was perfect the way I was…that’s not valid anymore?” He demanded.</p>
<p>
Fredrick winced away at most of the words, knowing deep down that his son was right. He was throwing away so much for a girl that he wasn’t even sure he could keep. Sure, they’d gotten married, but he and Deb had been married too, when she’d taken off. “Cameron,” Fredrick began. “I – I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. Of course, I don’t think you need fixing. Of course, I don’t think you’re an abomination, and of course, I think you’re perfect the way you are. Cam, I love you, more than anything else-“</p>
<p>
“Apparently not.” Cameron spat out, not even bothering to look back at his dad. “Apparently I’m second best when it comes to Ms. High-and-Mighty over there.” He said motioning toward Darlene.</p>
<p>
“Cam, that’s not it,” His father insisted, his voice strained, his eyes begging his son to understand, but it was no use. Cameron was pissed.</p>
<p>
“Oh? That’s not it?” Cameron asked. “Then what exactly is it, Fredrick?” He father winced at the mention of his name. Cameron had never, not once, used his name instead of ‘dad’ when referring to him. “What? You’re just…pussy whipped?” He asked</p>
<p>
“Cameron, that’s not fair-“ Fredrick began.</p>
<p>
Cameron pushed away from the car, opened the back door and grabbed his backpack and his suitcase out. “No, you know what? It isn’t fair, Fred. It isn’t fair that you’re the only person I’ve ever had to depend upon my entire life, and now you’re doing this. It isn’t fair that the one person in the world who is<em>supposed</em>to be on my team is turning his back on me. It’s not fair, Fred. It’s really not.” His voice was venomous, all sadness had leaked away from his eyes, leaving only ire in its wake. He moved away from the car, his eyes staring into Fredrick’s as he swelled up on him. His face just inches away from his father’s. He was bigger than Fredrick. He was stronger than Fredrick. He had his suspicions that that was why his father’s drunken outbursts had ended about three years ago. “I’ll make this easy for you.” Cameron seethed. “I’ll just fucking go. I’ll go inside, and I’ll stay the four god damned weeks, and when I get back, I’ll leave again. I’ll find someone to stay with. Maybe Greg or Arianna. But I won’t be home again.” He promised. “I really hope this one sticks around,” He said, stabbing a thumb in Darlene’s direction. She was watching the display with horrified eyes. “Because if she doesn’t…you’ll be all alone.” He promised.</p>
<p>
With that, he turned around, and began to walk away. “Wait!” His father called behind him with a pained voice. “Cameron!”</p>
<p>
“Save it.” Cameron answered, flipping his father off as he walked away from the car. For the first time since they’d stopped, Cameron took a moment to look around.</p>
<p>
The place was a fucking madhouse.</p>
<p>
Buses were lined up. Parents were saying goodbye to children. Children were either ignoring them, or begging through tears not to leave them. Some parents looked livid, some disappointed, some were even crying, though Cameron couldn’t place the emotion behind the tears. One would think sadness, but if they were feeling guilty about it…wouldn’t they just take their babies home with them?</p>
<p>
Maybe not.</p>
<p>
What the fuck did Cameron know about this anyway?</p>
<p>
Nothing. Not a god damned thing. That’s what.</p>
<p>
Cameron moved past the group, wading through a sea of emotions, keeping his face as stony as possible. But he couldn’t stop his wandering eyes. There were some damn fine dudes up in this joint. He bit his lower lip, and shot a flirtatious glance at a tall, black teenager who leaned against the first bus. He was wearing a skin-tight wife-beater that hugged his muscular body in all the right ways, his shorts left little to the imagination, and Jesus Christ did Cameron ever a want a piece of that –</p>
<p>
His dirty thoughts were cut short by an angry glare from a much older, much larger man. The brute looked to be over six feet, and weighed probably double what Cameron did. He had short-cropped black hair that clung to his scalp in a tantalizing fashion. Cameron had always had a thing for African hair. It was beautiful, it was adorable, it was sexy as all hell. Unfortunately, this hair was attached to an obviously bigoted man, who seemed very, very protective of his…son? Nephew? Random acquaintance?</p>
<p>
Who knew?</p>
<p>
Cameron may have been a horn dog of epic proportions, but he wasn’t about to start anything, especially not with someone twice his size. That dude looked like he could have picked him up and snapped him like a twig. So Cameron kept walking, hoping that perhaps he and the dark-skinned prince, find themselves in the same campsite. If he was going to be stuck someplace for four god damned weeks, he was sure as hell gonna get laid, and from the looks of it, this place was dude central.</p>
<p>
The best part? Every dude here was interested in other dudes! There was no guesswork involved! A smile crept along Cameron’s face, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of idiot could possibly think that shoving a bunch of gay kids together in a camp for four weeks was somehow going to magically "cure" them…instead of leading to random hookups.</p>
<p>
And random hookups was exactly what Cameron had in mind.</p>
<p>
Cameron had three boxes of condoms in his bag. He’d managed to sneak them in there the day before they’d headed out on this god-forsaken trip. He’d also stashed away five packs of cigarettes, which really didn’t seem like enough, but he was willing to make them stretch. Maybe he could even buy some more off someone else. He couldn't be the only smoker here.</p>
<p>
He'd wondered, on several occasions, if their bags were going to be searched for 'contraband'. If they were, he'd surely loose access to both his hidden treasures. If these losers knew what was good for them they most certainly would not attempt to take the only two pleasures he had left to his name away from him. The only activities he had to distract him from the anger that still burned in his chest was sex and smoking.</p>
<p>
He intended to do copious amounts of both.</p>
<p>
He managed to push past a group of teen girls, who had for one reason or another decided that the best place to gather was right in the middle of the god damned sidewalk.</p>
<p>
Their perfume mingled with the smell of the outdoors and gasoline. Jesus they smelled good. Like bubblegum and cotton candy. Cameron glanced down, they were pretty. Their hair caught in tight curls, or smoothed against their skulls, their skin an array of colors from very ashen, to yellow, to dark. A rainbow of teenage girls. They were chattering about something, but he couldn’t make anything out past the dull roar of the hundreds of voices that mingled together out here.</p>
<p>
He’d never understand the mentality some gay men had. They didn’t like women at all. They pretended as though they couldn’t tell the difference between a good-looking girl, and an absolute troll. Personally, Cameron had never believed them. He just thought they wanted to seem…more gay…maybe? Or maybe he was just weird. He wasn’t sure.</p>
<p>
He could tell when a girl was pretty, or when she smelled nice. Hell, all of his friends, save for one, were of the female persuasion. He’d spent entire days at their houses, they’d cuddles in huge piles together. He greatly enjoyed cuddling with girls. They were soft. They smelled better than dudes.</p>
<p>
He didn’t want to fuck any of them, but they were good for cuddle buddies.</p>
<p>
Cameron boarded a bus behind another group of girls, they sat down close to the front of the bus. That seemed like a dangerous decision. If counselors were anything like teachers, there’d be one on every bus, and they’d sit toward the front. Cameron was not even remotely interested in getting involved with that sort of crazy. (Anyone willing to counsel a place like this was from the Devil himself, Cameron was positively certain of it.) So he chose a free seat way in the back, where he could survey the group, and maybe scope out some of the more attractive men.</p>
<p>
<strong>PLOTS</strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Dead Zone</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
Everyone always said the world would end with a virus of some sort. That humans would turn into mindless eating machines without any real choice in the matter of who or what they killed.</p>
<p>
It’s probably easier to think about that sort of thing than it is the reality.</p>
<p>
The world fell apart two hundred years ago. Sure, for a while, cars worked, but when parts broke, and eventually there wasn’t any more to replace it, since factories and shipping facilities were shut down, they were eventually all junked.</p>
<p>
Humans live in a sort of half modern, half old-fashioned world. Gone are the amenities of a time of peace. They crumbled along with the empires when the world fell into anarchy. The world is controlled by gangs. Canabalism is alive and well, and people generally seem to be no better than animals.</p>
<p>
There are six major gangs around the area that was once New York. The largest is controlled by a vile man named Damien. He has no problems stealing, pillaging, and plundering.</p>
<p>
A larger gang has been moving through the eastern states, and demolishing gangs. In an effort to defend their territory, Damien decides to try to merge his gang with the second largest in the area. It’s run by a (man or woman) of equal moral disregard. In a last attempt to gain their allegiance, he offers up his youngest (son or daughter).</p>
<p>
A deal is struck, unfortunately, his youngest child now belongs to someone else.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Zombies</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
A manufactured disease is released upon the human race either accidentally, or by means of chemical warfare. Zombies happen, and now our characters are fighting to survive. The zombies are slow, dumb, and clumsy. It takes 6 minutes from death to zombification. Once bitten death occurs within 48 hours.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Till death do us part</strong></strong></p>
<p>
The world is undeveloped, tribes of people live along the land in harmony with the animals.</p>
<p>
However, war among themselves is a very real problem. Two tribes have been warring for longer than anyone can remember. The chief, in an effort to stop it, gathers together four of his most beautiful men and four of his most handsome men.</p>
<p>
He offers them up as peace offerings to the chief of their rival tribe.</p>
<p>
The chief is interested in only one, a young man/woman that he intends to add to his many wives/husbands/mix thereof. The man/woman chosen for this will have to try to conform to the new culture of this tribe, while also trying to get along with the chief’s other wives/husbands.</p>
<p>
I’m open to there being a language barrier as well.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Follow the rules</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
Character A was kidnapped as a child and raised as a slave. He/she was owned by a wicked man who used pain as his training method. He burned (literally) a list of twenty rules into their mind. They were rescued, and were reunited with their family.</p>
<p>
However, when things proved to be too hard for both the victim and the family, they were placed elsewhere. Or at least, that’s the story the victim was told. In truth, his/her parents couldn’t bare to see what that mad man had done to them. They couldn’t live with the guilt, so they sent them away. Hoping to erase the painful memories.</p>
<p>
They were placed in a home that specializes in working with kids who are beyond help. There is one other kid living with them currently. They’re going to be slowly reintroduced to the world. They may develop a friendship with the other foster child.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p><strong>
I AM OPEN TO PLAYING ANY OF THESE ROLES. I'll play either dominant or submissive, it doesn't matter to me.</strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong><strong><strong>Pitch me your ideas!!!</strong></strong></p>
<p><strong>
Plotless pairings</strong></p>
<p><strong>
</strong></p>
<p>
Master x slave</p>
<p>
Hostage x hostage</p>
<p>
Pirate x pirate</p>
<p>
Pirate x kidnapped</p>
<p>
Parent x teacher</p>
<p>
Single parent x single parent</p>
</div>
</div>
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