forum Another (enemies to lovers)(limited mxm)

Started Jan 20 by @Chillicheesey language

tune

In the neon-lit cityscape of Neo-Orion, Military Commander and elusive outlaw are locked in a high-stakes pursuit for the ultimate cybernetic power—the elusive "Sovereign Chip." Crafted by an enigmatic genius before his demise, the chip holds dominion over the world's cybernetics. The commander driven by duty, aims to secure the chip to prevent chaos and maintain government control. On the flip side, a cunning criminal mastermind, seeks the chip's power for his band of rebels, their motives shrouded in secrecy. As the chase unfolds through the flickering holograms and dark alleyways, an unexpected tension brews between the two. Each encounter blurs the lines of animosity, revealing hidden layers and shared vulnerabilities. The cat-and-mouse game evolves into a complex dance, with the magnetic pull of attraction defying the backdrop of their conflicting agendas. In a city where trust is a rare currency, the two must navigate alliances, betrayals, and the blurred morality of their desires. As they draw closer to the elusive chip, they find themselves entangled in a web of intrigue that forces them to question their loyalties and confront the unexpected truth.

• With this rp, I wanted to do something different. I want this one to have an ending, so when we start, we can talk about what kind of ending we might want this to have. Worldbuilding would be something we could both talk about as well so that we both have an understanding of what world this is.

• I don't really care for consistency, especially for an rp like this, but if you're going to drop it, please let me know.

• TW: This will have violence and all those other mature themes. We can always make this pg-13 if you want to keep this outside the pms.

• If I haven't rp'd with you before, a writing sample is highly preferred.

• Length wise, I would really prefer paragraphs. The purpose of this rp is to really push my writing to its limits and really think hard to formulate a proper response– which I also encourage you to do as well.

I’m currently recovering from having my wisdom teeth removed, but I plan to be more active here on Notebook in a couple days. If you’re still looking for someone, and wouldn’t mind having me, this really caught my attention as something I would be interested in!

Perfect! Do you have a sample?

(This is copied from another RP I am in!)

It was about 7:00 am on a rainy Thursday morning, on the outer edge of a mid-sized town.

A figure huddled in the corner between a rusty old dumpster and the grey brick of a large building that housed a vape shop. Water dripped from the edge of the roof far above, rhythmically thumping against the drenched fabric of his hooded jacket. The young fellow— if that’s what one would call him— shivered and wrapped his arms tighter against his aching ribs, curling into himself. The gash on his side throbbed. If only he could just… sink back, away from the world, into nothingness. If only he could just… peacefully cease to exist. Then maybe things would be better.

But he couldn’t. And he was too scared to die.

Orion squinted up at the cloudy sky. A few drops of rain smattered across his glasses’ lens. Though it wasn’t that bright outside, the grey light of the morning was a little harsh for his tired eyes. After a long night of ducking through back alleys and slinking through the shadows, they burned. He was a nocturnal creature, anyway. The night welcomed him much more than daylight ever did.

“Hey!” a man’s voice called.

Orion tensed, one gloved hand reflexively yanking his hood as far forward as it would go. He turned his head as little as possible, peering at the stranger through his peripheral. A burly, overweight guy, maybe in his early thirties, wearing a sports hoodie and smoking something. Not a police. Not a hunter. Still a threat.

“You’re trespassing. No loitering here!” The man took a few fast steps closer.

Orion hurried to his feet without turning to face the man. The movement upset the wound he’d sustained on his side the night before, but that would have to be a secondary concern.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he nervously started in the other direction— keeping his voice low and his head even lower. He walked as fast as he could without bringing more attention to himself, cupping one hand over the the injury on his abdomen. It felt warm. Bleeding again, probably.

Instead of making his way to the open street, which was already starting to get more alive with morning traffic, he ducked into another side alley and leaned against the wall. He pulled his hand back; a little dark spot stained the front of his grey hoodie. He was right about the bleeding at least.

If he were anyone else, he’d just go to the hospital like a normal person. But he wasn’t anyone else, and he wasn’t a normal person. Most wouldn’t even consider him a person. He wasn’t even sure if he considered himself a person, either. He didn’t look like “real” people. Not up close, at least. Not with his blue-black skin, yellow eyes, long pointed canines, and sharp black nails. The few times he’d accidentally been spotted by civilians, they’d mistaken him for some kind of demon.

He wasn’t a demon, though. He was an abomination that never should’ve existed.

Footsteps from deeper in the alley caught Orion’s attention. He started, eyes wide as he stared in the direction of the sound. The hunters had been chasing him all night long; he’d only lost them a couple hours ago. No doubt, they were still searching. And they wouldn’t quit. Hurting him wasn’t enough. Killing him now wasn’t enough, either. He was an anomaly, a fluke, a creature whose very existence threatened everything known about monsters and humans. They wanted him alive— for now, at least.

He didn’t wait around to find out what the noise was. Didn’t want to risk being seen again. He darted off, ignoring the pain in his side, ignoring the ache in his legs from running all night. All that mattered now was keeping his head low and keeping away from them. Maybe he could find a manhole or something, somewhere to hide in the dark until nightfall.

He turned around a corner, took it too fast, tripped over a random sack of garbage laying right in the middle of his path. He face-planted onto the pavement, wheezing as every bit of air was forced from his lungs and his hands and knees dug into the rough concrete. He scrambled back to his feet and limped forward, momentarily forced to acknowledge his own physical pain.

Maybe they’d just end up killing him after all.

Maybe that was what needed to happen.

This looks really good!!

Would you like me to provide a template or do you just wanna go in blind?

Thank you!! And personally I like templates for personal reference (I have HUNDREDS of OCs and having a temp helps me sort of keep them organized somehow in my brain??) but I am capable of going in blind if that’s better for you. ^-^

No it's no problem :) Also feel free to choose either role

Character Name:

Age:

Gender:

Background/Origin:

Appearance:

Name: Oskar William “Moriarty” Markus

Age: 27 years old

Gender: Male

Background: Mostly obscure and will be elaborated on further in RP, but Oskar had always been a bright kid, if not a little quiet. Growing up, he found a fascination with books, from science and math to old fiction stories, particularly the classic Adventures of Sherlock Holmes— but it wasn’t the hero he found himself enamored with. It was his rival, James Moriarty, the consulting criminal. Due to a rough childhood of abuse and poverty, Oskar found himself surrounded by criminals and lawlessness— and he soon fell into a life of crime himself. But unlike the criminals around him who acted on their whims, full of anarchy and total chaos, Oskar operated strategically, like a chess player, ever observant and ever manipulating things to work in his favor. Using his new criminal persona and self- given nickname of Moriarty, Oskar became somewhat of a legend among the criminal underworld— and soon enough had his own following, which would, over the course of a few years, evolve into a relatively small but formidable rebel group of organized criminals that are devoted to him and his “cause,” though it seems that many are either unable or unwilling to fully elaborate on what his cause really is.

Appearance: Oskar is a tall, slender fellow with a lean figure and fair skin; he stands at approximately 6’0. He has long limbs and fingers, veiny hands. He has a heart shaped face with youthful features and a head full of thick blond hair that sticks up in loose curls that he can’t be bothered to tame. He has a prominent, sharp nose, a wide smile, one pale green eye and one eye discolored from having a cybernetic implant in it that allows him to “photograph” things to permanently store in his memory. Sometimes it causes him headaches, though. After an incident several years back that left him permanently damaged, both of his legs, from the knees down, have been replaced with cybernetic ones with diverse functionality , his “feet” to dig into abnormal surfaces (I.e., he can “walk” up walls.)

(Please let me know if I should change anything or remove the cybernetic stuff! The overall vibe of the blurb just seemed very cyberpunk-esque so it just seemed like something that would make sense in this universe. Lmk if it doesn’t! I don’t mind to change it.)

Fantastic! Do you want my character template or should I just put my starter? Unless you wanna start

You can go ahead and post a starter!! Also my character may change a little based on this temp— but I’ll make sure he’s consistent IRP.

Okey dokey and I'll put up my starter within an hour or so

Sounds good

(Let me know if this starter is good enough for you to respond to!)

Blood drops, crimson petals, blossomed on the porcelain canvas of the sink as Felix's gaze descended. He hesitated only momentarily before summoning the cascade of water from the faucet, allowing its cool embrace to cleanse the ruby stains clinging to his skin. His nose, still a battleground, betrayed him with these sporadic bleeds – the lingering aftermath of a life-altering decision to replace his arm with a cybernetic counterpart. The metallic limb was yet to be fully embraced by his body.

The memory of the mission echoed in his mind. It had been months since the fateful stealth operation that left him grappling with the demons of captivity. Tormented for weeks by unseen adversaries, it was only the intervention of his comrades in a distant province that spared him from the clutches of relentless torment. The mission, initiated to hunt down an arms dealer peddling military-grade weaponry, had proven more treacherous than he had imagined. The thief who sliced his limb still haunted his thoughts, a phantom that fueled his determination.

As Felix cupped his hands beneath the flowing water, he sought solace in its embrace, a ritualistic awakening from the depths of haunting memories. When he gazed into the mirror, eyes the color of viridescent leaves stared back at him, framed by disheveled hair that bore witness to weeks of neglect. Once dilligent in his grooming as an eighteen-year-old, the demands of his current role as a twenty-eight-year-old military official had eclipsed such trivialities. Stubble adorned his jaw, a testament to the chaotic whirlwind of his life that had prevented him from grooming himself properly.

"Ara!" The call, a summons to his robotic assistant, resonated through the silence of his expansive bathroom. Ara, a humanoid machine with hair the shade of light brown, shared a striking resemblance to Felix, its tan skin mirroring his own.

"Good morning, Mr. Nora. How may I be of service to you?"

Felix, wielding an electric toothbrush, deposited a pea-sized dollop of toothpaste onto its bristles. "Lay out my uniform for me, please." The subtle hum of the vibrating brush was the only response before Ara spoke again.

"Would you like me to prepare anything for you to eat, sir?" Felix pondered, a momentary pause in his morning routine. The relentless barrage of assignments from General Rutherford had left him with scarce opportunities to nourish himself properly. The prospect of an imminent mission hung in the air, the enigmatic "Sovereign Chip" demanding his unwavering attention. Government property, Rutherford insisted, safeguarding a power that could command the world's cybernetics.

"An egg sandwich would be good," Felix replied, his voice cutting through the rhythmic brushing. Memories of his ex-girlfriend flickered briefly in his mind, her playful aversion to the sound of his gagging while brushing his tongue resonating like an echo from the past.

The remainder of his morning blurred into a whirlwind – a symphony of freshening up, consuming a hastily prepared meal, and mounting his motorcycle for the journey to the base. His thoughts, however, were already entangled with the looming mission, it briefly casting a shadow over his consciousness. The motorcycle roared to life, its engine echoing the urgency of the impending assignment as Felix ventured rode his way onto the unknown.