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I am 18+ and all participants and characters must be 18+

Hello All!

One of my biggest passions in the RP is the creation of large, elaborate worlds with long, four-dimensional stories. I've done all manner of genre, setting, and story - many of which last as long as years with the right partnership and dedication. 

So what is it that someone can expect from this? Just to name a few:

\- A full, custom-built TTRPG system.

\- Dynamic Inventory, character statistics, skills, and progression.

\- Populated worlds of NPCs with personality; not just soulless merchants and empty prose.

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By contrast, what am I looking for from you?

\- Dedication and consistency. Someone able to be trustworthy to what they say; this is a TTRPG, not some fleeting porno.

\- Communication. I am someone with quite a lot of activity. Even so, I try to communicate my inactivity as much as possible, and hope for someone who can do the same. Nothing is worse to put all this time and effort into something, just for them to drop from the face of the Earth.

\- Literacy. I follow a Novella style of writing; if you do not know what that is, see the writing sample at the bottom. You should be able to punctuate, capitalize, and write like an adult. This is a writing hobby, I don't understand the people who cannot write.

\- Able to maintain a good story! I am giving you all the tools to shine, I want to make something where we can truly thrive.

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What the requirements for a Player?

\- Able to play multiple characters simultaneously (That means all at the same time. No, simultaneously does not mean that you make thirty characters, then only use one at a time when you feel like it). This can include both male and female characters, all of which would be in third person with no "Main" characters (Self-Inserts, one character having priority over the others, etc.).

\- Able to use and navigate Discord. I run things EXCLUSIVELY over Discord, using servers to manage bots and character sheets.

\- Again, LITERACY. You need to be able to read AND write.

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So where do we go from here? These are the next steps:

\- Reach out to me! Send whatever message with your introduction, etc.

\- On Reddit, I will ask for a writing sample - if you want to send one immediately in your intro, great. Otherwise, I will request one. If you do not have one, no sweat! I have a prompt for you to respond to. 

\- - For a writing sample, the only requirement is that it should accurately represent what you can consistently replicate.

\- From there, we will move to Discord. If you have any questions/comments/concerns, feel free to share them on Reddit or Discord.

\- Once on Discord, I will have an FAQ for you to read. This is a general guideline to help with understanding and laying the groundwork for how I run things.

\- Following the FAQ, I will have a brief survey section for you to complete. Once done, we will have some back-and-forth, and hopefully have a fleshed-out TTRPG waiting for us to go!

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So with all of this gone through, what is the story actually about? Well, that is what I do: I make stories. Each and every story I make is personally tailored to an individual partner, hence the survey section. I find no fun in telling the same punchline over and over; I think that every story should be unique, and I intend to fill on that promise.

Now, I will provide a writing sample below that doubles as an example one of my set-ups. This one in particular is a horror prompt regarding a woman named Penny being trapped by an unknown supernatural entity deep in the Paris Catacombs. I have heavily censored it for Reddit purposes.

Enjoy!

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A rumble tore through the Earth, spanning across the low ceiling of the catacombs. Parts of the foundation seemed to have crumbled, the littering skulls that once mounted the walls colliding with the powdered concrete that slipped through the fixtures of bone above. Each wall wove as an intricate maze of brickwork from bojne shards, skulls, and epoxy that created a wallpaper of human remains. Despite their age, they provided no comfort that they would remain stable.

Each one of the bones appeared human, at least at their very core. Clear deformities were obvious from first looks, while others had deeper forms of decay becoming evident. One particular eye socket seemed to have a cancerous growth of bone jutting forward in a crystalline formation. Another skull held a divot towards the center of the forehead that bowed inwards, as if someone had pressed their thumb inward to cause it cave around it.

"Penny! You keepin' up?" The young woman paused in her tracks, her head whipping in the direction of the voice. One of the catacomb guides.

Travel without one of the experts felt impossible. The walls of stone and bone felt imposing; she could feel her thumping heart sinking deeper in her chest as each boney eye looked back at her. It felt as if they were staring - staring deep inside of her soul, watching her every move.

A sinking sensation exploded out of her as she felt a hand grabbing hers. Her immediate reaction was to jump, her voice catching at the back of her throat as all that escaped was a faint squeal. Turning towards her side, the tanned hand of her guide seemed to grab hold of hers while the man emerged from one of the twisted crevices of the walls.

"Vous devez suivre de plus près. I've lost track of the other guide and two tourists - these places are bad to get lost in, you know."

It was a touch of comfort that the man had come back for Penny, even if it was his job. It wasn't like he was going to outright abandon her in a place like this.

Her heart thumped as she locked eyes with the guide. The two looked identical down here; down in the dingy, sinking depths beneath the romantic city. Why did she ever come down here in the first place? To chase a thrill? To prove someone wrong? Curiosity? Now, the only thing she could see was the grime on the face of her savior guide; a look that no doubt mirrored her own. She could already see the dark stains along the breast of her shirt and down the sides from where she had bumped into walls or ran dirty hands along the hems.

An audible click broke Penny from her daze, the catacomb guide having clipped a thin paracord rope to her waist with a carabiner. The belt loop of her jeans pulled with the faint tension of the line, which she could see led back to his own waistband. Once secured, he pushed an old, steel-handle flashlight into the palm of the woman. The beam shined dimly towards the ceiling as she took control, the bulb giving a slow flicker. It was a wonder that an old torch such as this one was still being used.

"You will be perfectly fine with me here, sweetheart," The guide cooed. "It is no problem to be in these places, especially with a 'professionnel' such as moi." He took on a jovial tone at that, releasing his hold over Penny. As he stepped back, he turned on his heels - returning in the direction of the wall crevice.

Penny did her best to follow. Her petite frame made it easy for her to slide through, pushing into the narrowing, winding path of the deeper catacombs. What stood out in her mind, with the growing tension of the rope, was how her guide was able to move so quickly? He had to be nearly twice her size; some of these paths felt tight for even her.

A gasp forced past her lips as she pushed her back towards the wall. Looking towards her waist, one of the jutting bones from the wall seemed to have cut her arm. She could see the cracked, spread fiberous bone that managed to knick her - the dull browns creeping up the length now marred with a tiny patch of fresh red. Hopefully a little neosporin would do the trick, once she got out. Tetanus was for rusty nails and stuff, right? That didn't apply to something like a little scrape from some centuries-old cadavre. Hopefully.

She felt the desire to call out to her guide; to ask for help, to ask for him to slow down. But all she could feel was the tension of the pulling rope. The tension of that cord practically dragging her, as if her belt loop or the cord itself would snap under the pressure. It was a comfort, certainly. Until it wasn't.

The rope didn't exactly go slack, but it was the sudden drop of the pull that concerned Penny. It continued to hold upright at attention, as if someone was applying just enough pressure to keep it up, but not enough to feel as if she was being literally dragged like before. Following after the line, she inched through the narrow gap until she found the end of the rope - sort of. Shining her light ahead, Penny found a completely flat wall blocking her progression forward. The rope she had been following seemed to lead directly into the wall, as if her guide had simply vanished through it. She lifted her hand, pushing it to the rock ahead of her...this wasn't Harry Potter. There was no hidden platform on the other side, no magical path to get her out of this.

Frantically, her hands dropped to her waist to undo the carabiner. The little metal fastener clattered to the ground below as she whipped back in the direction that she came.

Raising her flashlight, she found that the path that led back had similarly vanished. In its wake, a long wall lined with skulls seemed to stare directly back towards her. The wall was close, the crushing sensation of their presence overwhelming her as she backed into the stone behind her. Only then, did she feel more skulls to her backside.

Penny was trapped.

Somewhere, somehow, she felt the suffocating presence of the skulls around her. The room itself had literally shrank to only this crevice, leaving about a foot in all directions for her to move in. Hundreds of thousands of skulls overwhelmed the poor woman as she struggled, looking up with a Prayer.

Drip. Drip. She shined her light above to find a single skull, a single hanging bone splintering beneath the position of the jaw. She could see the faint tints of brown along the bone, leading to a dark red at the tip that dripped down and onto her face. In a desperate attempt, Penny reached upwards. Her hand swung over her head as she reached for this bone, managing to grab hold of the bleeding edge. 

Click.

The bone dropped out of place, falling to the ground beneath Penny - much to her shock. Looking back up, she could see a thick black epoxy substance forming at the eyes, nostrils, and mouth of the ceiling skull. Drip, drip, dripping down. The first drop hit Penny with a substantial fluid weight; the best comparison she could make was to oil. Was the skull bleeding oil?

Then, more epoxy. Faster, heavier. The skull above began to bleed this black epoxy as if a faucet had opened up. Penny desperately side-stepped the dripping, only to look at the walls that surrounded her. Each skull was beginning to form that thick blackness. That condemnation of oil that filled the small box of a room. That swelled and grew until there was nothing, no more space to fill.

Just another cadavre in the World's Largest Grave.

[GM4A] Custom-Tailored TTRPG Stories. [More in Post!]