[M4A] [FB4A] Suckled On Shadows, Fed By The Fading - A Gormenghastly Tale of an Alluringly Gothic Romance and Broken, Majestic Lust

Attend it now. A palace carved from whirling, spiralling smoke and ruin. A monolith of fading lustre, of dappled arches encapsulating the steep, frowning glories of dying, austere beauty. The pale silhouette of the consumptive, the reaching, the tinted-glass declension of cold sun as it strokes into warm darkness, humid shadow, and frigid light upon the shimmering tile.

Presume the legacy of someone else's forefathers, entering your eyeline as the hand rising forth from the sheet. Cracked and jutting apertures, languid pools and rusted gates, spilling out before the errant camera-phone, the gormless glare and the witless mouth. A realm consumed by the forest and the mire, as the greater dragon of industry has snatched away even the disparate poor from the shacks in the woodlands whose ancestors remembered its height. It does not, therefore, survive even in memory. It is a spectre's spectre, and a tomb's tomb. You come across it willingly and simply, with the swamp-water pooling in the swan-yard, claggy liquid seeping about the statuery. You are there when I descend.

Viewed through the mist of a murky autumn day, I am a geist purely and simply: a sharp and shapely line, but without the definition to invoke fear, reverence or suspicion. A deniable flicker, or a part of the fresco: certainly, my tutelage in dance has granted me that knack for stillness. And yet, as I approach on a foggy beam, those loose qualities gain impeccable sharpness. Long, flowing, auburn hair, tightly knotted and twisted into a belt-loop to catch as little as possible. Almost comically sharp cheekbones, framing a tight, suspicious mouth, that seems all too quick to bring to its red lips words of clamorous noblesse oblige: expectations, speech and desires of a profoundly ancient age. A body once honed for warfare, and left to slim away with the ravages of intermittent meals. Still firm, and with taut, capable muscle, but pulled close to the skin and without the affirming bulk it once commanded. This cruel and unacknowledged androgyny, illustrated by a thin tabard worn to threads by the ravages of age, had emerged from no desire to seduce, but simply from the clashing of purpose and outcome against each other: a body built for war, and the inheritance of a land set to decay. I, through whatever means, continued, while the world burned and regrew and seeded its crops, built its foundations, and built up the legends of its virtues on the fertile stock of my ancestors: their names, desires and natures abandoned to unhistory.

Inspect, if possible, the incongruity of your being here: you, a creature of plastics, of fibres, of flesh suffused with the Anthropocene, in this manse which belongs to inefficiency, to rumour, and to rot. Bring your admiration here, to me and to Tallygane, or abandon us both forever. It is not that I cannot live outside its walls, but rather that living, for me, is defined by my closeness to it. Speak your piece, and give your tribute. I, and the innumerable spirits in every stone, will be listening, and watching, and waiting.

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Hello there! As you might be able to tell from my profile, I've often been one for the 'fantastical/historical femboy RP prompt', and, in this case, this shorter one has been directly inspired by my love for Mervyn Peake's Gormenghast series. In this case, I'd love to portray a deeply mysterious, alluring, and intractible androgynous figure, bound somehow to the grounds of a ruined castle far from civilization, that your character happens to stumble upon. My exact nature - be that a ghost, a faerie lord, a vampire, or some other kind of immortal being - is very much up for grabs, but one thing I'd really love to play around with are the comparable differences between cultures, my culture being more 'the historical past' than anything else. I also have always had a deep love for in-depth environmental descriptions as part of RP's, and so Tallygane (the castle) is something that I'd hope we can develop together (and to an equally high standard).

If you'd be at all interested in taking part in this prompt, then, my main question for you is what sort of character you'd bring into the swamps! Are they a typically jockish 'urban explorer' type YouTuber, whose unexpected attraction to this impossible, ethereal baddie forces them to reevaluate a great deal about themselves, and to maybe even consider (even if briefly) a life without internet? Could they be a headstrong, cocky, badass explorer lady, in the rich tradition of Croft and Rachael Weisz, who seeks to plunder Tallygane for all its cultural and material wealth and gain some ageless pleasures of her own in the process? Any genders, and any proposals, will be considered, so long as they use good grammar, show an interest in the source material, and are more than one paragraph long.

My main kinks for this prompt are...well, you can largely find them in other prompts I've put up. It's safe to say that, for this one, the main new ones are an air of sourcless, breathless, tar-stained gothic majesty and structural eroticism, walking barefoot through shattered stone to an uncomprehending embrace, and getting tied up and completely railed on a dusty four-poster in a gloomy room.

My main limits are much the same (in that you should see my other prompts), as well as being dull.