Romance only. ♥♥
I can also RP through MSN.
Rules:♥♥♥
I swear, get over it.
I don't cyber, got it?
6 sentences minimum, 3 for writers block. You can't use that excuse all the time.
Give me something to work with. None of this:
Sirius kissed Layla softly on the lips.
Can't work with it, too short. I hate one liners.
It's long term, don't try to change it on me.
Call me Stepha.
If the story gets boring, share ideas with me. :3 I'll share them back.
I'm looking for friends too, not just some RP partner.
I suggest having a separate PM for the OOC.
No stars for actions, no chat speak. try to use grammar correctly. Also, try to spell things right. (Microsoft Word is your best friend.)
I don't like anthro neither. It's icky.
I REFUSE to be an older female or a boy. And I only do het. D<
I'm mainly on at 2:30 to 10 on weekdays. Almost all night on weekends. <3
I also have plot suggestions for other romances (yes, fandom again) for My Chemical Romance and Death Note. I'll be happy to suggest them also if you're interested. And just suddenly today, I hit a craving for a FullMetal Alchemist one too. Post Shambala or when Ed and Al were only kids. :3
Stepha now likes OCxOC like:
Kidnapper/Kidnapped
Best friends
Band Mates
Band Enemies
Artist/Muse
I'm also open to suggestions. :3
In kidnapper/kidnapped, I'd be the kidnapped.
With artist/muse I'd be the muse.
I only play girlies.
I don't like being ditched. >:
I'd prefer if you PMed me on the subject. I don't only chat around on the computer, I'm doing my journalism work too. ^^ Thus, I may not be quick to reply.
I don't service anyone. That means, I'm not the one being the fandom for you're stupid little OCs, you'll be servicing my stupid little OC. (Yeah, I know she's stupid. And so am I.)
By the way, you have to be on often. I hate waiting like 6 days for a reply. D<
Also, I'm no one's slave. Which means, no
^ JOIN IT ^ O_O
Last update/post: Sep. 15, 2009.
I can also RP through MSN.
Rules:♥♥♥
I swear, get over it.
I don't cyber, got it?
6 sentences minimum, 3 for writers block. You can't use that excuse all the time.
Give me something to work with. None of this:
Sirius kissed Layla softly on the lips.
Can't work with it, too short. I hate one liners.
It's long term, don't try to change it on me.
Call me Stepha.
If the story gets boring, share ideas with me. :3 I'll share them back.
I'm looking for friends too, not just some RP partner.
I suggest having a separate PM for the OOC.
No stars for actions, no chat speak. try to use grammar correctly. Also, try to spell things right. (Microsoft Word is your best friend.)
I don't like anthro neither. It's icky.
I REFUSE to be an older female or a boy. And I only do het. D<
I'm mainly on at 2:30 to 10 on weekdays. Almost all night on weekends. <3
I also have plot suggestions for other romances (yes, fandom again) for My Chemical Romance and Death Note. I'll be happy to suggest them also if you're interested. And just suddenly today, I hit a craving for a FullMetal Alchemist one too. Post Shambala or when Ed and Al were only kids. :3
Stepha now likes OCxOC like:
Kidnapper/Kidnapped
Best friends
Band Mates
Band Enemies
Artist/Muse
I'm also open to suggestions. :3
In kidnapper/kidnapped, I'd be the kidnapped.
With artist/muse I'd be the muse.
I only play girlies.
I don't like being ditched. >:
I'd prefer if you PMed me on the subject. I don't only chat around on the computer, I'm doing my journalism work too. ^^ Thus, I may not be quick to reply.
I don't service anyone. That means, I'm not the one being the fandom for you're stupid little OCs, you'll be servicing my stupid little OC. (Yeah, I know she's stupid. And so am I.)
By the way, you have to be on often. I hate waiting like 6 days for a reply. D<
Also, I'm no one's slave. Which means, no
^ JOIN IT ^ O_O
Writing Sample:
Edie awoke with the whisper of the wind following through the contours of her loft and through her ears. The chill of early morning bit at her fragile skin as the sheets slipped off of her and onto the carpeted floor below her. Her long slender fingers felt around on the bed for her pack or Marlboro red and as she found it, she opened it and instantly lit a cigarette. Her eyes were still lazy and she smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, and cheap perfume. Outside, there were cars passing below in a busy city street, taking no attention that the muse of the century’s greatest artist was just above them, waking up in a horrid hangover. Edie’s head throbbed as she sat up and leaned against the headboard behind her. Her artist was sitting in the chair across from the bed with a light smile. She gave a smile back at him.
John stood and walked over to his muse and placed his hand lightly on her cheek. “Good morning, Edie,” he said in his soft dreamy voice. Edie beamed up at him, “good morning John. Did you like the party?” He responded with a bow of his head and pulled the sheets back on her. Edie set her cigarette in the ashtray and cuddled into the warm comfort of luxurious down sheets. This seemed to be pure heaven to her and nothing could ever be better than this. John’s eyes scanned Edie’s small frame outlined by the gray shadows of she white sheets. “Would you like some coffee?” he asked her as he stoked her hair gently. Edie nodded and disappeared under she sheets where it was paradise.
John exited the room and returned minutes later with steaming coffee. He set Edie’s on the end table and sat back in the chair with his own. He picked up a pencil and his drawing pad after setting his coffee on the table beside him and began sketching the scene of Edie peacefully drinking her coffee in the cold light of morning. Shadows were still emphasized at this hour and it gave his drawing a dark look to it that Edie would often enjoy. Her lips were brought into a smile as she watched a pair of lovebirds twitter to each other outside the window. She was always the one for romantics and she often longed for them herself. She knew that John was nothing more than an artist at the moment and she was nothing but his muse. He needed her to stay as she was and so did she and thus the reason why he acted like he cared for her. But was it really an act? Together, the world had no pain, suffering, nor evil to them. Was it really love; Or had it been a strong lust for fame, fortune, and the thrill of meaningless sex amidst the chaos of a late night loft party? Edie was confused at the thought of this and she pondered on the thought for a moment before looking back to the foam in her cappuccino.
Edie awoke with the whisper of the wind following through the contours of her loft and through her ears. The chill of early morning bit at her fragile skin as the sheets slipped off of her and onto the carpeted floor below her. Her long slender fingers felt around on the bed for her pack or Marlboro red and as she found it, she opened it and instantly lit a cigarette. Her eyes were still lazy and she smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, and cheap perfume. Outside, there were cars passing below in a busy city street, taking no attention that the muse of the century’s greatest artist was just above them, waking up in a horrid hangover. Edie’s head throbbed as she sat up and leaned against the headboard behind her. Her artist was sitting in the chair across from the bed with a light smile. She gave a smile back at him.
John stood and walked over to his muse and placed his hand lightly on her cheek. “Good morning, Edie,” he said in his soft dreamy voice. Edie beamed up at him, “good morning John. Did you like the party?” He responded with a bow of his head and pulled the sheets back on her. Edie set her cigarette in the ashtray and cuddled into the warm comfort of luxurious down sheets. This seemed to be pure heaven to her and nothing could ever be better than this. John’s eyes scanned Edie’s small frame outlined by the gray shadows of she white sheets. “Would you like some coffee?” he asked her as he stoked her hair gently. Edie nodded and disappeared under she sheets where it was paradise.
John exited the room and returned minutes later with steaming coffee. He set Edie’s on the end table and sat back in the chair with his own. He picked up a pencil and his drawing pad after setting his coffee on the table beside him and began sketching the scene of Edie peacefully drinking her coffee in the cold light of morning. Shadows were still emphasized at this hour and it gave his drawing a dark look to it that Edie would often enjoy. Her lips were brought into a smile as she watched a pair of lovebirds twitter to each other outside the window. She was always the one for romantics and she often longed for them herself. She knew that John was nothing more than an artist at the moment and she was nothing but his muse. He needed her to stay as she was and so did she and thus the reason why he acted like he cared for her. But was it really an act? Together, the world had no pain, suffering, nor evil to them. Was it really love; Or had it been a strong lust for fame, fortune, and the thrill of meaningless sex amidst the chaos of a late night loft party? Edie was confused at the thought of this and she pondered on the thought for a moment before looking back to the foam in her cappuccino.
Last update/post: Sep. 15, 2009.
