Other Writing Samples

[WeebxDweeb]

Hello: My name is WeebxDweeb. I've been role playing ever since 'hm' since I was 13-14 ish? I've played a variety of characters both canon and oc. Below are several writing samples (most recent) from 2017 to now. If a sample strikes your fancy I would love to divulge further behind the sample and the character tied to it. You will notice quickly that I write a lot. Most of the samples are starters, some are replies to stories. I am a lover for detail and because of that my post tend to be longer. Without further ado. I hope you enjoy the various reads~

Sample 1

Genre: High Fantasy
Type: Starter
Character: OC 'Oasis'
...
The world has, had, and will always be enveloped with sin. Envy, lust, sloth, pride, wrath, glutton, and greed. It is human nature to portray which sin we relate to the most but in truth they all lead to one. The envious want what the others have. Glutton wants to consume anything and everything. Lust needs to relieve itself of pleasure no matter the sex , no matter the time. Sloth wants to be left alone, move at it's own pace. Pride needs to feel satisfaction, fulfillment. Wrath is pain, anger. It wants to spread its outrage, its annoyance whether its willingly or against it. Greed is an intense selfish desire. Do you know what all the sins have in common. Want, need, desire, all verbs that are rooted to selfish intent; all rooted to Greed.

Humans however wont admit their faults and continue the paddle of determining which sole sin they belong too. Others justify their sins as virtue and lead their lives in to riches and war. It was this Greed that began the first war within three hundred years; "Monochar's Rock". Monochar's Rock was nothing more then two divided countries who believed their power outweighed the other. One held the right of privilege and birthright, while the other held wealth and numbers. As one would assume the country with the birth right to rule should assume kingship over both lands, but there was a sense of pride in him. He didn't want to whine for his position so he indulged the other country into an arms for war. Beckim the country of riches and wealth and Yol'soth the country of privilege and birthright began a draft for everyone who was able to wield a weapon. The draft was called "Voters Right", it gave the people a chance to fight for which country they wanted to rule. This draft however was meant for only those who resided within the capital cities along with those who held a citizenship card. Creatures and various raced that lived outside the various capital walls were unwillingly dragged into the draft on the notion that their peace treaties forged from their ancestors would be null and void. The countries forced them to fight on the terms that they keep their treaties.

Such an act put a certain man in a horrible position, leaving him to take up arms himself. Under his own rule and for the protection of his home, the man sent two of his most precious belongings. The first was the was the sword. The sword was to assassinate the two kings and their militia. The second was the judge. The judge was to find a new ruler to replace the two kings....

It was roughly around noon when the woman came to the city. The dry air had settled in upon her appearance. The winds left at the gate as she passed through. Common as the area may have been, there were rarities among the locals. Elves, orcs, fae's, Giants. Creatures from all over had gathered to the country of Beckim and by the "Voters Right" decree had come to write their souls away for the gathering militia. Everyone was prepared though with each soft step the woman gave, their fearlessness faded. Why? The woman was no monster. She took on a human like appearance with perfect pale skin. She was curvaceous beyond any other female that crowded the market place and by far the mot pleasing. She stood no higher then five foot eight and weighed no more than a hundred fifty pounds. She wore a short black dress that fluttered a little ways above her knees; exposing her thick thighs that were strangled by the black stockings that encased her legs. She wore knee high boots with crimson heels that clicked with a sense of fear and dominance. If one were to look past her feminine qualities they would see her masculine feature, her refined arms built for heavy lifting.

Her lips were stained a crimson red. Her eyes concealed by an obsidian rag. She had a short bob that curved into her cheeks, the same bloody color darkened by the blazing sun. When she made her way into a small tavern did her beauty illuminate against the flaring wisps of fire. More and more she became lit, the sun adding a screen of glistening stars that was nothing but the condensation around her. The citizens in the tavern where awestruck. Amazed by the beauty that one soul could possess. It was this beauty that distracted them from the real threat that laid behind her doll like face. It was this beauty that distracted them from the large obsidian casket that was strapped to her back.

"Miss can I get you something?"

With a heavy thud the woman released the casket onto the tavern fall, the edges of the object cratering the wood into small splinters. "Mam?" The man had drawn his attention from her to the object she had set down. With a delayed reaction he stumbled back against the counter of the bar, his pale emerald eyes shortening to the site of the monstrosity. Was she a murderer? A grave digger? Was this her pleasure? The woman gave a small head tilt to the man, her lips parting sweetly as she let out a small giggle. "Two ale's. A meat platter and lots of bread." The man had gathered his words, his throat gulping as he slowly fixed himself; his eyes never leaving the casket. "...We...We don't accept your kind here." The man quickly tightened his fist as he used his other hand to lightly shoo them away. The woman could smell his fear. She could see the beads of sweat, hi reddening skin. "My kind?" The woman chuckled to the thought of whatever kind he was putting her in. "I am here for the Voters Right. The meeting begins at three and I would like to eat something before we set out at night. I ask again. Two ales, a meat platter and lots of bread."

The woman's finger curved around the locks that kept the casket sealed. Her nails had slowly ran across the stained painting, the metal screeching out as she tilted her head further. The man was weary due to her appearance. Her eyes were hidden and the casket itself rose above seven foot. She had an attachment to it. She held it as if it was her lover and even used the strap to twirl herself into chair, clearly occupying one of the tables. She settled it in between her legs and hugged it as if it was her life. She whispered sweet words and even kissed it....creepy.

"Fine. Only because you're here for Voters Rights. Once you've eatin I'll have to ask you to leave." The man once more swallowed and tightened his fist, his hand shooing to one of the waiters. The woman cooed with happiness as her head turned in the direction of the other onlookers. Six at most seemed like they were apart of the Voter's Rights. Two seemed like they were itching to have a conversation. One wanted something more. The woman smiled toward those who looked her way, her head burrowing further into the casket as she gave it a kiss.

Sample 2

Genre: - Custom Concept
Type: Reply
Character: Jack the Ripper [Fate/stay]
....
Nephele's placement among and within the family was an odd one, though she wasn't complaining. Lords kept to themselves, normally expanding and conquering. By the by they kept to themselves never really associating with the outside world let alone within their own realm. How long ago was it that she took the time to fly to the Land of Water or even jump over toward the Land of Earth. Even the Fire Lord could come off friendly if approached right and with Zorn's prime element being fire, you'd think that'd spark a relationship. Nephele's own desire for a good evening out or a simple co-siege was always stunted by the fact that she would have to move first. She would be the initiator, captain, head, Squad leader...etc.

Nephele let out a small sigh as streaks of silver brushed past the edges of her collarbone. Furrowed brows were complacent. Her right thumb nail wedged between her pearly whites. Like a child she kicked her legs to and fro, front and back as the winds carried her away form her home and to her destination. Where to? The Badlands. Nephele had caught wind of a man who had gained recognition from the King. He was said to rival the plague in appearance and power. Her eyes that floated everywhere gave a very much detailed description of his stature and even more so on the power he held at his side. He was to be a rotted Hercules. A fallen leader with a broken crown and a throne compiled with bones. His eyes were that of a metallic gold his skin an ashen grey.

The appearance of this man nearly 'nearly' rose a chill but alas Nephele had heard, seen, and felt much worse. Her thoughts now were to simply see the man. Judge his worth. Was he as good as he said. Was he as powerful. To be seen highly from the King was something not many achieved. It was a process. Trials after trials, lesson after lesson. If this man was a champion then as a Lord was it not her duty to welcome the man.- Despite her previous distaste for being the initiator, such a task she wanted to handle first and foremost. "Look ahead." A monstrous voice would bellow out. It's tone lingering from ear to ear as its rumble faded into her own soothing words. "The Badlands."

The Badlands was nothing more than mountains, dirt and sand. It was a coffin of death with temperatures as high as 104. Water was practically absent, hidden beneath the caked dirt. The sun was any mortal's enemy as its rays bared down on the withering land; forcing it to cave and crack into roads that lead to nowhere. If one sought death then this was their resting ground. It was infested with vermin. Coyotes, poisonous snakes, lizards of all sizes. Domes that towered to cliffs structured from stone and mud had formed into labyrinths. You could tell by the crevices that beneath the surface laid caves and tunnels all meshing together to form eerie catacombs. And above it all was the lord herself, staring down onto the surface world.

Amused, taken back, and disgusted all at once, Nephele gave an awe inspiring expression. You could tell by her disgust when the sound of click escaped the wedged nail between her teeth. Her other hand holding tightly against her blade as her plump rear rested against the shaft of the scabbard. Yes. Nephele rode her Heilige as if she was a witch on a broom stick. Graceful with every shift and rock. She used the wind whenever she could. It was apart of her. Walking? Non sense. The hilt of her Heilige tilted down as it took her from the skies to a platform below. Swiftly and without much sound, her toes touched down first against the fleeting sand, her heels following once she pulled the blade from beneath her. Her attire was summer ready as she wore long white slacks, a chef's shirt with three silver buttons, and a small Japanese drum that rested on her backside; accompanied with a long white cord that's edges took the shape of a paintbrush. It holder obsidian with crimson writing that read 'Power is power'.

Her geta's were obsidian, the metallic sheets kicking up the loose sand as she slid her Heilige back into place against her side. With a huff, she rested the backsides of her wrist against her hips, her head tilting up and down as she admired the scenery from her lifted position. Her Heilige's essence like always slipped into a spiritual form of towering reds. His tail creating a circle around her while the rest of him remained unformed. Where was he this man named the plague. Where was this rot, this infestation. Nephele looked around to attempt to spot the man, be it he himself or the path he was taking. "Excited?" Zorn would question as he noticed the timid tapping of her geta's and the continuous huffs and puff's that escaped.

Sample 3

Genre - Custom Concept
Type: Reply
Character: OC 'Yoma'
...
Beneath the white soles of Yoma's rainbow colored converses was an opened book with cream starched pages. Each page was neatly scripted with black ink and splotches of crimson signaling the ending and beginning of each vertically written sentence. The spine was sewn with the finest silk and the base into which the pages rested on were the same shade as her neatly ebony bob cut hair. -Yoma. A soft voice called out as her hues were fixated on the scripted language below. -Yoma. It called for her again as her polished nails slid underneath the page to flick it to the right. The voice continued to ring but to no avail the sound didn't reach. Closed off from whatever life there was, Yoma trapped her mind within the book she immersed herself in. -The Art of War

-All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.- 'Sun Tzu'

A small curl managed to craft a smile upon her delicate visage as her eyes stared intensely at the written passage. -Where did you get this from?, was a question that managed to reach Yoma's quiet place. Normally no one could penetrate her concentration, no one could disrupt her if she didn't want to be disrupted. Yoma was if she could be so bold , was the �Queen� of ignoring those around her no matter the blood or ranking they held. However, there was one that had the key to prying open the barred doors Yoma kept sealed;Herself. -Are you listening to me? "Shoto."Yoma muttered underneath her breath as her eyes moved from the choker around her neck, to the silver spider amulet that was centered. -What is the book about? "Do you know the book Art of War " -I do. "Then that's what it's about." Yoma wasn't crazy, just slightly misplaced.

"Huh.."Raising her eyes, Yoma took heed of the two arrivals. First to enter was..ah? Yoma let her eyes roam from the doorway to the table, slowly following the woman. 'Rize'the name had registered through her mudded mind, but then there was another. 'Who was it again? 'Yoma questioned herself as her eyes moved toward the walking mountain. "Big." Yoma muttered once more before the bubble that was her poor excuse of a lightbulb popped. 'Hayden'. How could she forget the walking monstrosity. Monstrosity? Yoma shooked her head to the side as she dug her chin into her knees, her arms slowly wrapping around her legs as she watched the Matriarch flip through the files on her desk.

Hayden was a giant, something she envied. He had the fire power, the brute strength and the build. He was a walking wall that could hardly be damaged and if he was, he'd never show it. -You seem timid? she would question herself, but Yoma wouldn't answer. Naturally she would be timid. She was a low ranking officer in a room with two of the most dangerous Anima, not to mention the Matriarch. Situations like these she disliked. It put her on an edge that she didn't want to be on. It was stifling to be so close to them, irritating almost.

-'Alright, you two. Pay close attention'- Yoma raised her head slightly from the shelter of her knees, her eyes fixated on the screen as she listened carefully. -'Luxor has been untouched because it is an island. Which is something the Corrowes thrive in protecting. You can expect the waters at least five miles before you reach the plot of land to be filled with monstrous entities. Beings we don't want to encounter. It would give us away far too early. Using our ghost bird. We're going to be able to map out the traps on the shore, land and proceed. From there we will be met with light to moderate resistance as our presence will be concealed still. It's only when we hit the first of three towns that they will know we're there. Vit, our AI, will have locked the island spatial wise to prevent them from calling in backup or escaping. The next town will be harder and the third town the hardest. The second one is filled with huts suspended on wooden bridges with the third being in a large rocky area with hills and ancient ruins for them to use as cover. That's the plan.'-Rising to her feet after the comment made from Rize, Yoma gave a small grimace as she picked up her book to follow Hayden out of the door.

Entering her own chambers, she roughly grabbed her uniform, dressing in a distinctive white, ankle-length cloak with The Order's insignia emblazoned on the back. The buttons that fastened the cloak also had The Order's insignia. Beneath her attire she wore the double breasted trench coat tied with a black belt and white capris with plain white converses. Armor? Yoma wore very little in regards to armor. Her materials were crafted with Graphene and Aramids. The Aramids were nothing but Nomex and Kevlar, which gave her some good resistance to fire and gave it a shield like a bullet proof vest. Of course things that may seem slightly heavy to others , wasn't for her, but that came with the perk of being who she was. Last but not least was the equipment she had neatly set up on her desk. With haste she fastened two leg holsters with ten pockets each to her right and left leg.

The right holster carried explosive kunai while the left was laced with an emt film that rested like breath mint strips on a tongue. Yoma then grabbed for her short katana that slid perfectly into the black belt, the ebony hilt designed with The Order's Insignia. She secured on, her lightly plated forearm armor, which the left was specially designed for a simple arm cross bow; the arrows five placed around the arm itself while thirty more laid hidden within the small compartment of the other forearm armor. Of course she couldn't forget her two combat knives, MTECH MX-8054 that rested behind the leg holstered kunais, with the hilt protruding for her easy access.

With the last bit added to her arsenal she hurried out of her room and toward the stealth vehicle. With every step she took the more serious she became. The timid shyness she had conjured from her idle time outside had vanished. Curtains of black reigned down from before her eyes as she took her seat next to Hayden.

-Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt- 'Sun Tzu'

 

[WeebxDweeb]

I do write both in third and first person!