The two kingdom's had been at war as long as anyone could remember. No one is quite sure why it started, or who even started it. Though the war is now in the past. As 5 years ago, Kingdom A finally conquered the other kingdom. However, this wasn't the end as Kingdom A's army was determined to eradicate any hope of rebellion. Military posts litter what used to be Kingdom B and spies are listening from every corner. Any subjects from Kingdom B that have even suggested change have been forced into slavery. Of course, that doesn't stop all rebellion.
On the final day of the charge, the crown princess of Kingdom B, Princess Cicada, managed to escape the castle walls. She fled to the streets and began the first, and so far strongest, movement of rebellion. Five years they managed to stay underground with little attention drawn to them, but it couldn't last forever. Rumors of her presence and what the precious princess of Kingdom B had become, a monster of sorts, floated around the guards of Kingdom A. All the way up until the princess was captured by Kingdom A and being taken to their palace where she is to be held while they force any information out of her. While being held she is graced by the presence of the crown prince(ss) of Kingdom A, your character, now in charge of either convincing Princess Cicada to marry him/her or getting the information needed to destroy the remaining rebellion. Though getting her to do either will be a challenge.
It's fantasy so pick whatever species you want and magic is allowed, just nothing overpowered. Also, I would like this to end up being romantic.
~RULES~
-Swearing is okay.
-LGBTQ+ is great
-No Mary Sues or Gary Stues.
-Please submit character within a day or two, otherwise, I will open the spot up. This is so I can start the rp in a timely manner, so ya know, it doesn't die.
-Gore is perfectly fine, and there will probably be quite a bit in this rp.
-Please submit a sample of your rp style.
-I’m not asking for paragraphs, but a solid two sentences each post would be nice.
-Also, I'm looking for someone more active that can post at least once a day.
-I have the right to say no to you.
-Anything PG-13+ will be taking to the PM
-andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s rules apply, duh.
~CHARACTER SHEET~
Name:
Nickname:
Age:
Species:
Gender:
Pronouns:
Sexuality:
Appearance:
Clothing:
Personality:
Power:
Preferred Weapon:
Family?:
Other:
I'll post my character once someone joins.
((Is it troublesome for you to do roleplays with people that you are already actively roleplaying with otherwise? Because if not, I'd be willing. And if you want to reject me, I will gladly scurry away without offense. ^-^))
(Nah man you can join! I love your style honestly.)
((Ah, you have no idea how happy that makes me! ^-^ Thank you much, my friend. I am quite a fan of yours as well. Would you like for me to create a character, then?))
(Yep! Also thank you as well! I'll get mine up soon.)
Name: Cicada Flare
Nickname: Cada, Cade
Age: 21
Species: Demon
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/Her
Sexuality: Pansexual
Appearance: Short dark red hair cut so that she appears more boyish than female, black curled horns that turn gold at the tips, black-framed wings with red webbing that also fades to gold, brown eyes that have a fiery aura to them, slightly pointed ears, tan skin, freckles across the nose, cheeks, and shoulders; overall a very thin and wiry frame, wrappings around her chest to make her seem more flat-chested than she is, and scars that litter her body everywhere.
Clothing: A loose plain beige tunic, loose brown pants, a solid brown hat, and cloak. The only significant possession she wears is her golden crown circlet with a ruby in the center and golden chains around the horns. She covers them with the hat of course.
Personality: The best way to summarize Cicada is a hothead. Her emotions drive most of her actions, but as of late she's become tight-lipped and a little more think first then do. Her uprising gave her a well-versed education so she's quite intelligent and able to make plans on the fly. Though most of those plans go out of the window once her emotions get the better of her.
Power: Pyrokinesis is her main power and the one she uses most openly. She also has telepathy, but because she had a difficult time keeping it under control. Her circlet is not only a representation of her royal standing but also imbued with power to help her control her powers.
Preferred Weapon: Daggers and swords, but anything with a blade will do.
Family?: None, they're all dead.
Name: Prince Quinton Eryx Niall (pronounced like Nile)
Nickname: Quin, but he really prefers to go by Quinton.
Age: 23*
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/him
Sexuality: Straight. He loves them ladies
Appearance: Quinton is fair-skinned, standing at around 5'11, with an average build. He is neither weak nor exceptionally strong, rather falling somewhere in the middle, toned but nowhere near ripped. He has copper-colored hair with just a hint of curl to it and dark greyish-blue eyes. He has a noticeable jawline and a few faint freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose. Though he generally keeps himself clean-shaven, he has been known to occasionally have some stubble on his jawline (though this never lasts, because he finds it rather itchy and irritating.)
Clothing: Quinton either overdresses or under dresses for the occasion altogether. Being the prince, it is usually the former, but he has no qualms with dressing far too comfy and casual for important events. He would probably do so more often if it didn't earn him such harsh scoldings from others within the kingdom– namely the Queen.
Personality: Quinton is kind-hearted and easily moved by the plight of others– but, at the same time, he has a tendency to be mildly selfish and overconfident at times. He may or may not view himself as God's gift to women (which might be why he's always a bit surprised when ladies don't jump at the chance to have him). He's brave and loyal to those he trusts, but he doesn't like being told what to do and has a tendency to make somewhat brash decisions at times.
Power: (Not sure yet. Any good suggestions?)
Preferred Weapon: He loves wielding a sword, and is actually quite skilled with one. Close-range combat is his strength; long-range, not so much. He couldn't use a bow and arrow if his life depended on it.
Family?: His parents* are currently ruling Kingdom A.
Other:
Is this alright? Let me know if I should change anything. I put asterisks next to the things I was uncertain about. For example, on age, I was curious as to whether or not you had specific age-ranges in mind. (Ex., if your character was going to be like, 18, I didn't want to have a 32 year old, or vice versa.) As far as family, I presumed that, since my character is a Prince and not a King, he must have a father currently ruling. Do I need to make that character as well, or will we just make them up as we go along? ^-^ Sorry for all the questions!
No, no he looks great! Age works well and yes his father is alive. Generally, I just make up the characters as we go along, so if you want to do the same that's fine. No need to fill out two sheets.
Okay! I'll get a starter posted if that's good with you.
Cicada hadn't been down in the dungeon for long, she knew that much for sure. Maybe two to three days, but it felt like an eternity. The first thing they had done was strip her of most possessions leaving her with close to nothing except for the clothes on her back (barely), the circlet on her head and the chains around her horns. Her hands and legs had been chained to the floor and pegs driven through her wings also forcing them to the floor. As much as it was painful, at least these monsters hadn't cut them off yet as she had seen with some of the other demons they made their slaves. Between her arrival and now she had been visited a few times each one worst than the last leaving her bruised, battered, and bleeding. Despite all of this she had refused to break underneath them. Today was different. Whispers of gossip flowed throughout the dungeon and while Cicada couldn't make them out from her place chained to the floor, but she still bristled in preparation for whatever was to come to her.
Quinton straightened the collar of his shirt as he made his way down the long hallway. He wasn't sure how he felt about this– about speaking to this ungodly creature that they called a Princess. Okay, so, maybe it wasn't his place to judge– but he couldn't help it. He'd heard rumors. He knew enough to know that this was no being to be trifled with. That she had proved unbreakable in the hands of his strongest men. Now it was his turn to give it a go, and he wanted to look his spiffiest.
Upon arriving in the dungeon and seeing Cicada, he was immediately reminded that this was no ordinary princess– and that she was actually more horrifying than beautiful in his opinion. Why couldn't she have been some fair maiden? Some soft little damsel? That would've made this all-around easier for him.
He sighed.
"Good evening, Princess Cicada," he greeted in a far-too formal tone. "Enjoying your stay?" His voice was twinged with sarcasm.
Cicada's head snapped up as she heard the voice and saw the prince. It was the prince who those guards were whispering about. A prince whom through all the research she could gather on him was a ladies man. Oh joy, here comes a fun time. The slight disgust on his face was clear, what was he expecting some pretty little princess? That wasn't how Cicada worked and it never had been. She'd been harden by the war that had taken place most of her life and so the idea of being soft was foreign to her. The same didn't apply to the prince all dressed like he was about to go to a ball. She looked up at him glaring as her teeth barred ever so slightly, "Oh it's wonderful. I enjoy being beaten bloody constantly."
"Well, I'm glad you like it. But, that's not on the agenda for today." Quentin smiled a bit. "There's been a change of plans– I hope you don't mind." He leaned against the bars to her cell ever so calmly. "It's not often that I get to have first-hand chats with the technical heirs to my rival kingdom's throne, so it's a real pleasure. Tell me– How have these past few years treated you?"
"How do you think they've been treating me?" Cicada looked at him snarling a little. She didn't like how calm he was being or how there had been a change of plans. The old routine had been brutal, but at least it had been a routine. At least she didn't have to look at the prince of the enemy kingdom square in the eye. If she could get out of these chains, or just have the energy to shoot some fire, she would and get out of this place. But she didn't have her fire and she couldn't break out of these chains. So she was stuck, "My kingdom's been overrun and it's people being forced into slavery. So tell me, how do you think they've been?"
Quentin sighed a little. "So… not the best, I see." Though he's partially joking, there is some serious weight to his tone. "Look, I'm sorry about all of that. Really. But it doesn't have to be this way. By that, I mean, you don't have to sit here and rot in a cell. We can work something out, if you'd just be willing to talk with us. To talk with me."
“I’m not talking with anyone,” Cicada spat out looking him dead in the eyes. She didn’t care if she rotted in this cell. There were still people out there who were fighting to free her kingdom. They would find a new ruler in time. She would do no good helping the enemy, “And most certainly not with you.”
Clearly, she had no intentions on working with him– so this was going to be harder than originally anticipated. "Aw, come on." Quentin frowned a little, puckering his bottom lip out as you'd expect someone to if they were making a pouty face. "Don't be like that. It's not like I'm asking you to sell your soul to the devil. I just wanna talk." He leaned against the bars a little more. "It'll be better for both of us. I promise you that."
“I am the devil,” Cicada dead panned in response to that specific comment. Her eyes remained hardened and narrowed as she looked at the pouting prince. He had the audacity to pout as if that would make any difference, “I am not speaking with any of you and that is final. Hurt me all you want I’m not budging.”
"I'd believe it," he muttered in response to her comment about being the devil. She looked like it, anyhow, but maybe he should keep his insults to a minimum if he actually expected this conversation to get anywhere. "What would you like then, Princess? What would it take for you to speak with me? What if I don't even ask you any questions about your kingdom?" He paused. He needed a plan that would actually work. "What if I invited you to dinner with me? Hm? What would you say to that?"
“I would say go to hell,” Cicada responded her eyes narrowing in on him. He seemed desperate considering all the options he was throwing out there. Why was he so determined to talk with her anyways? He could talk all he wanted right now. It wasn’t like she could go anywhere or stop him for that matter. She didn’t understand this prince and she didn’t like it. What was he trying to do?
Quentin frowned. "Well, that's not very nice at all," he murmured, straightening himself. "I'm trying to be a friendly host. I'm literally inviting you to come eat with me. Look– I won't even ask any questions about anything at all. Just come have a meal with me. My treat. I'll even ask my personal chef to make whatever you like." His shoulders dropped a little. "And if you really don't want to, I guess you can starve in this prison, but– that just seems like unnecessary torture in my opinion."
Give an inch and they’ll take a mile. Those words rang in Cicada’s head as she heard his offer. She was hungry, yeah, but eating with her enemy was worse than starving. They wanted her alive for information anyway, so they would have to feed her at some point. But she refused to have a meal with him. She still didn’t understand why he didn’t just force her to eat with him. He could easily just do that, but instead he was trying to ‘be a friendly host’. She was his prisoner. Her confusion and questions bubbled up to the surface as she asked, “Why are doing this? Why not just force me to do whatever you want? It’s not like I’m in any state to fight you.”
"I know that," Quentin replied slowly. "But I told you– I'm trying to be nice. I don't want to force you to come eat with me. I want you to agree to come." He scratched the back of his neck. "It's not as fun having dinner with someone if your guest is there against her will." He sighed and dropped his hands to his side. "Come on. Why not? It's not like you have anything to lose. I've promised not to press you for questions. What more do you need? Do I need to sing you a song? Write you a poem, maybe?" There was a twinge of humorous sarcasm in his tone at the end there.
