Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: Her Exodus (meomeo & Vertigo)

Aurelius slid off the back of his dun colored horse in a clearing not a mile away from the village he and Clarie were going to start their investigation. He had taken her after a quick interview yesterday when he happened to be passing through town. All he had to see were her breasts and legs to know that she would make a fine traveling companion. Thus far he was playing it much straighter than that. He had set her to do small tasks around the camp and vaguely mentioned where they were going today. Now was the time to explain why. You wanted to know the life of an adventure, Clarie? He asked rhetorically, icy blue eyes glinting. Here's how it goes. There's a bounty on the head of the Sandy River Gang. The alleged hero reached within the hem of his tunic and removed a rolled scrap of paper bearing the mark of the region's Justicar. It listed a roster of crimes. Illicit Enslavement Murder Robbery Murder Murder Murder Arson Murder Smuggling Trafficking Illicit Goods Coercion Illicit Slavery Murder Robbery Robbery Robbery. The list went on in a similar vein. I've asked around. There are six of them in the gang. They made their headquarters in the Blessed Goat tavern for some time. They typically make money through murder for hire, highway banditry and forcing people into slavery. Typically witnesses, the families of their targets, even just unlucky folk. We're going to ask some questions. They haven't in this village for some time, so it should not set too many tongues wagging. I need you to keep your head about your shoulders, Clarie. These are serious people. They're going to come off like thugs and buffoons--because they are--but it also thugs and buffoons who harm most of the people in the world. So follow my lead. In the blink of an eye Aurelius' gravitas evaporated. He removed his sword from the hilt on his side and set about oiling. The blade was not a hero's blade, not like the flashing silver thing in the few stories the bards sang about him it was a utilitarian piece of steel. The blade was perhaps half again the length from his fingertips to his elbow with a blood groove down the middle. It had two sharp sides and a pointed tip, good for both hacking and stabbing. Its hilt was wrapped in leather that had been squeezed so hard it conformed to his grip. The rest of him was less plain in appearance. His tunic was dark green with a golden hem at the bottom in a geometric pattern. His boots were buckskin dyed black, tied at the front with thick leather laces. Silver bracelets adorned each wrist, a matching silver bauble around his neck. His features were wind cut. Aurelian's body was just as thickly muscled as it needed to be to run, jump, fight from horseback and on foot. There was very little about him left over to inefficiency except, perhaps, his vices of which young women were one. Even ones some fifteen years his junior, such as Clarie. In due time he slid the sword back into his scabbard, mounted his horse and kicked it. Come on, Clarie! Let's get you some experience.
Thread: Her Exodus (meomeo & Vertigo)

Clarie let out a sigh of relief as Aurelius halted their march. March ... that's the right word for it. She could feel the muscles in her inner thighs and back and neck scream out in agony, and it took some effort for Clarie to restrain from doing the same herself. The horse-riding and the camping on the ground will take some time to get used to. She missed the comforts of the Academy. But alas, the higher-ups at the place decided it would be beneficial to their would-be graduates to have a taste of life outside the literal ivory tower, heck, they actually made it a prerequisite to graduation. So here she is. Clarie decided to remain on the back of her freckled grey horse as Aurelius, her mentor, briefed her. She feared her legs would give out if she were to stand on her own. Meanwhile, storm clouds gathered in the horizon. From afar, she could spot wispy smoke rising from the village. Murder, banditry, thugs ... she nodded her head at these words. The gravity of their task did not escape her, but surely Aurelius, almost an urban mythical figure from her research, will handle the heavy-lifting? She did mention to him that she had specialized as a Healer, and in fact is considered rather proficient at that for a mage of her age. But her skill in the other disciplines are nothing to write home about. She hoped he hadn't counted on her to combat these unsavory characters... at least not on her second day. Actually, did he even ask for a demonstration of my powers at the interview? Clarie thought to herself. But after attending so many of them in the last week, she couldn't be sure, so she shrugged it off. Nevertheless, Clarie readied her own weapon, a painted wooden staff almost as tall as the wielder and adorned with a blue gemstone the size of a goose egg. The young mage, all 5'4'' of her, cut a slender figure on the top of her mount. She was dressed functionally in a body-length hooded black robe over dark-colored pants and boots. From the narrow feminine chin and strands of golden locks peeking out under the hood, to the hint of a curvaceous figure beneath the silken robe, one could discern a pretty young girl underneath. And indeed, with her misty green eyes and fair complexion beneath the hood, she would probably win a poll on the most attractive mage in her class... if such things were ever allowed. The passed by the outskirts of the settlement now... and it wasn't a pretty sight. The roads are unkempt and muddy, the walls grimy with soot, abandoned carts and wheelbarrows litter the roadside. Its residents, similar in appearance to their surroundings, would look up at the pair with wary, distrustful eyes and immediately avert their gazes. Whilst Clarie did not expect singing streams and children running in the fields, she took an immediate dislike to the place and involuntarily gripped her staff harder. They don't seem very welcoming... she muttered over the hooves so only Aurelius could hear.
Thread: Her Exodus (meomeo & Vertigo)

As green as Clarie was, she was thus far a good mentee. She had palpably not said anything overtly stupid in the last twenty-four hours and had been willing to gather firewood. Neither had she complained over much about sleeping on the ground. All told, she appeared fairly game for the life style Aurelius lead. However, if she had complained he would have written it off. It's not like he kept the young mage around for her skill set, intelligence or stoicism. He just need a nice young piece of ass to break in and work with. In response to her trailing assertion, the undertone of which seemed a little like profligate anus clenching, the alleged hero nodded. Better safe than sorry. This is the kind of place where people live and die over chickens. Atop that, there's no sense of law, and people don't ask questions, both of which attract a certain element. He couldn't help but shoot Clarie a roguish wink, We're part of that element. Having already received directions, Aurelius cut as close to a straight line as he could in the weaving dirt paths and mud pits that constituted streets in this village. The tavern was a ramshackle thing with a thatch roof that was bald and bowed in some places. For all that the mercenary tossed a stable boy a piece of silver--an outrageous amount--and impressed upon the twelve year old the importance of assuring absolutely nothing happened to their mounts in hissing whispers. Once in the stables he turned to Clarie, You can keep your staff, but you're going to have to lose the robe. You'll make the idiots uncomfortable. We have to make them comfortable if they're going to talk to us.
Thread: Her Exodus (meomeo & Vertigo)

The village somehow managed to look worse further in. The paths were winding, cobbled and stretched out like a maze. The whole settlement teemed with idle men up to no apparent good. The storm clouds, which were almost directly above them now, did not help the issue either. Clarie's knees buckled and threatened to give out as her boots landed on the stable floor, but stayed on her feet she did. Too much time with my legs split on horseback ... she thought. Naturally, and for apparent reasons, the need to remove her robe made Clarie skeptical. The robe was not a traveling garment worn over normal attire, but part of her getup as a Mage of the Academy, complete with its insignia sewn into the edge of the sleeve. But Clarie had no reason to doubt Aurelius had the quest's, and her's, best intentions in mind. And after striving to please and impress her mentor for the last twenty four hours, it would be a pity if she second guesses him at their first task together. Her eagerness to please made her hold her questions. Besides, there is something in Aurelius' tone, his whole authoritative demeanor... that made the little girl in Clarie whisper just obey him . So Clarie said Umm... alright. and untied the robe near her collarbone, before gracefully lifting it above her head. Over her torso she wore a linen sleeveless milky-white bodice. The garment was a very loose fit and unbridled at the hem, leaving copious space between the fabric and her skin, so Clarie would have to be very careful lest she wishes to expose her petticoat underneath. Over her legs she wore breeches of charcoal black. But they were not your normal riding breeches. They were of a new-found stretchy material fashionable amongst young women in the capital nowadays. The fabric was skin-tight, perfectly outlining the contours of her long skinny legs. A little too revealing , Clarie thought, but not the worst. Some of the more... adventurous girls in the Academy only wore their knickers under their robes. As Clarie straightened out her strawberry blonde hair, she found the stableboy blushing and hurriedly looking away. The boy must have caught the stretch of flawless flat tummy when she stretched to remove the robe. He looked as if he hadn't seen a pretty girl in ages... Clarie gave him a warm smile, the little guy deserves more than a piece of silver. Just then the doors to the Blessed Goat creaked open, and a drunken lout tumbled out, spewing obscenities at nobody in particular. As far as Clarie could see, the place was already packed and loud, even though it's only late afternoon...
Thread: Her Exodus (meomeo & Vertigo)

His teeth clenched when she stammered out a confused story. While Aurelius had kept things not just purposefully vague, but redirected every serious question with a the kind thing a half drunk hill person would say, Clarie could not even control her diction! Now there were so many loose threads to pick up who was the shaman in the next village? What was the next village called? How many of these same men came from the next village? Luckily, for it could not have been design on her part, Clarie's quasidrunken clumsiness played out for their total benefit. Kalvin jumped back and up while the rest of the men burst into uproarious laughter. As Dorin twisted to get a better look at the swearing Kalvin his bulk pulled on her loose white bodice, twisting the low cut of her milky-white top to come tantalizingly close to reveal one of her nipples. Realizing the opportunity at hand, Kalvin poorly faked a stumble and his hand plunged into Clarie's shirt, roughly grasping her soft breast. He pulled, unleashing the pert orb from her hem to expose her. Oh, lass, I'm quite sorry! Kalvin shouted as he slipped his hand off of her breast and then hurriedly shoved it back into her bodice. While Clarie looked away Dorrin unintentionally nudged his pint of beer, splashing it against her top. The fabric was sticky and hid nothing, pressed against her torso. In the uproar that followed the already pale looking Uri was frozen while Aurelius spoke in his ear. As Uri collapsed, Clarie's mentor stood up. Now, men, you have to treat Clarie with some kind of respect. Some sort of transformation had occurred Aurelius was stone sober and Uri was stone dead with a knife in his back. Kalvin and Dorrin looked confused in a frozen moment before Drummond let out a scared yell. Uri was leaned over with the hilt of a dagger visible jutting out of his spine. With Clarie's training she would likely be able to note that the blade would have intersected the young man's aorta a lethal blow that unleashed blood from the body's single largest artery. In the next minute Aurelius gave the kind of display songs had mentioned about him. With a seemingly perfect economy of motion he stepped on top of the rickety table, pushing off of Drummond's neck with a harsh blow from his left forearm. Blood spewed fountain like from the sharp nosed, big toothed man's mouth, spraying Dorin. Aurelius stepped forward to stomp on Kalvin's face as he slowly stood up before spinning, drawing his sword and stabbing Dorin in the eye with his sword. As the big man's corpse sprawled backwards Aurelius stepped forward, grabbed Clarie's shoulder and directed her back towards the stable. Walk quickly, but don't run. Once we get on the horses gallop north. I'll be right behind you.
Thread: Her Exodus (meomeo & Vertigo)

Clarie was just about to say every word of apology in her vocabulary. But just as quickly Kalvin's weight was on top of her, his oversized, calloused hand toying and exposing her tender globes. Next thing, Clarie felt an unpleasant chill down her front as the fabric became soaked with beer. She panicked, he was too large for her to do anything, and her instinctive No... got stuck in her throat. She was going for her staff when the blood started spewing. A whirling of steel and crunching blows. More blood. Walk quickly, but don't run. Once we get on the horses gallop north. I'll be right behind you. Clarie hyperventilated. Yes master. she panted. The curious choice of words, coming out of her lips subconsciously, was lost on her until much later. She rose to her feet unsteadily and all at once Clarie felt the earlier fatigue in her legs, and that, indeed, she had became quite tipsy. Good thing the door is just over there , she thought, and made her way towards it in double time, taking care not to run. The bodice's fabric was not meant to hold against men like Dorin and Kalvin roughhousing on it. The damaged neckline now hung so low it would make whores blush. Clarie's small nipples strained against the wet linen like twin tips of fire pokers. Practically topless as she retraced her steps. And Clarie was too high on adrenaline, too panicked, to care for her modesty... Three-quarters of the way now. Suddenly something caught Clarie's right boot. Her world tumbled, and she went face first into a coarse place which smells like coal. She pushed herself up, only to come face to face with a smug-looking bearded man. Clarie's heart skipped a beat. Great-looking eyes, disarming smile, handsome in a weathered way. She had stumbled right into the lap of a coal miner, and not a bad-looking one at that. Rather him than a table corner . Clarie offered an apology and tried to regain her footing... Eeeasy there doll. Oh look what we 'ave 'ere, boys, it's that posh girlie. Clarie felt herself absolutely manhandled, effortlessly flipped over and ended up sitting on the miner's lap, pinned there by his vice-like forearm. 'ere to join us for a drink haven't ya? You poor thing, all wet an' all. P'haps we can help ya dry ya teeny shirt, doll. Uproarious cackle from the table. What is it with the lecherous, firm-armed men in this tavern? Almost at the same time a voice rose above others from the other side of the room. Oi. Something's happened to Uri. Oi! Every muscle in Clarie's body came to life, and she raised her staff and muttered. Only needs to stun the miner for half a second... I can do it...
Thread: Getting into the Hallowing spirit

I like number 2!
Thread: Getting into the Hallowing spirit

I am totally down for number 3!
Thread: Getting into the Hallowing spirit

I'm curious on number three, not sure how it's entirely supposed to work but it could certainly be fun...
Thread: Making Up On Lost Time (Yami / Shadows)

Following the hard fought defeat of Hody and his rebellious fishman followers, the by now long infamous or famous, depending on ones sense of justice Straw Hat Pirates were finally able to enjoy the hospitality of rather grateful inhabitants of Fishman Island. The rowdy bunch of pirates enjoyed the free food, drink and generally joyous atmosphere of the celebration at the Ryugu Palace. It was a particularly enjoyable experience for the Straw Hats, whom hadn't been given much of a chance anything else than rushing from one location to the next since their reunion after the two year absence from each other. One member whom found this break particularly enjoyable was the by now increasingly cyborg looking Franky. The talented shipwright and builder of the crews current ship, Thousand Sunny, had found considerable amusement out of showing off his mechanical improvements from Punk Hazard to his Captain and several others. The retractable hair and imitated mecha noises or motions, in particular, seemed to be a big hit with party goers whether they be human or fishman. But Franky did eventually pull himself away from the festivities at one point during the days events. Waving a large hand toward a few waving onlookers whom were curious of his departure. Mecha Franky will be back super fast! The shipwright exclaimed with an added robotic tone to his usual manner of speaking. Making his exit from the party goers and the few guards posted around the palace whom were given orders to allow the Straw Hats free reign of most locations, Franky moved with a bit of pep to his barefooted step while making his trek toward the ship he'd help build for his crew. For however deeply he'd missed his crewmates, Franky had perhaps missed the Thousand Sunny equally so much. It was his dream ship which would sail to the end of the Grand Line, thus leaving it unwatched by himself for so long was harder then he'd let on to the others. Boarding the ship quickly after approaching the currently docked ship, Franky started to idly whistle to himself while walking along the deck of Sunny a wide hand reaching out to firmly pat the firm wooden rails along the side. The proud shipwright would continue to stroll along the surface of the ship for a few minutes. Soaking in the presence of his super masterpiece which he'd been parted from for far too long. It was near the end of his little break from the others that the energetic male would suddenly take notice of another presence either already on the ship or just now arriving. Hmm? Who's there? The large male questioned with a touch of alertness at a possible trespasser raising both of those large, robotic arms and preparing to fire the often talked about laser beam if needed. After the series of events since their arrival to the island, one couldn't be too careful when protecting their pride and joy.
Thread: Hillbilly Secrets (DionneEbony / Shadows)

Down a highway not far from the homes, a car zipped along the two-lane road. Inside were two women and a girl. The driver was Beatrice, the oldest in the family, in her late 30s. She was 5'10, thick and broad-shouldered, with almost coal-black skin. She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. She had been poor most her life, and it showed in the way she talked. Her clothes was old, from her well-worn bra holding back her 38DD breasts, to her walking shoes. Next to her in the front was Dionne, her younger sister, who was a little shorter, with chocolate skin and a more slender frame. She had managed to do a little better for herself over the years, and she had on a knee-length skirt and blouse. There was just a little bit of rivalry between the two women. Dionne would deny it if anyone said anything, but she couldn't help but feel she was a notch better than her older sister, who had never graduated from high school, who who seemed to go from one bad relationship to the next. Her sister was the easygoing, relaxed type who just went along with things Dionne was much sharper, harder to please, having more of a temper. In the back was Ebony, Dionne's daughter, a junior in high school. Ebony was a smart girl, and Dionne figured she'd make it out of their little town to the state college. She was dark, and slender but with a nice figure. She was wearing a tank top and some shorts, listening to an iPod. Hey, I think we was 'sposed to turn off back there, Dionne said to her sister. I remember seeing it on the map. Some sort of connector to lead us to 78. Let's look for some signs, Beatrice said, they gone mark the turnoff, I'm sure. Ain't seen nothin' bout no turnoff. Another three miles went by. The road began to wind, getting bumpier. Beatrice let up on the has, slowing the car. Told you! Dionne said, a little hot under the collar. This ain't the state highway. It was then that they saw the old houses. Beatrice slowed down. I'm gonna go knock on the door and ask them for some directions. The car stopped. Y'all wait here. I'll be right back. Beatrice pulled the car off the road a bit, shut the engine off, and got out. The houses were about a hundred yards away, and Beatrice began to trudge up to the front door of the first one as the other two waited.
Thread: Hillbilly Secrets (DionneEbony / Shadows)

Jeremiah had gotten rather involved with his 'reading material' during the time left to his own devices. Enough so that his free hand had reached down toward the front of his dirty jeans and began to idly rub at the growing bulge which was forming. Enjoying the sight of a sexy little redhead spread out over the pool table in his magazine, the dark haired hick was about to unzip and relieve a bit of stress, when the sound of somebody arriving at the front of their house had broken him out of his stupor. Shiiiiiiat! The male grumbled while tossing the magazine down in frustration pulling himself up to his feet and adjusting his jeans before marching toward the door while mumbling under his breath, Y'all have the worst timing for letting a fella have his personal time, ya know that? Swinging open the door without a moments hesitation at checking on whom it may be, Jeremiah was rather visibly surprised at the sight which greeted him on the other end. It wasn't one of his kin. Nor was it one of his kind. The large hillbilly stared at the older black woman with some surprise and uncertainty as those beady brown eyes of his slowly soaked in the sight of her, giving a low whistle while uttering, Well, shoot. What have we got ourselves here? They didn't get many visitors out in this neck of the world. Nor were the very few they did receive of the 'darker' persuasion. In fact, outside of a few magazine pictures which were usually ripped out and discarded by Zeek shortly after their discovery, Jeremiah hadn't seen a person of color in his life. That surprise caused the rather unkempt male to gawk for a spell at the near coal-black woman before finally flashing her a toothy smile, You must'ah gotten yourself lost, huh? Not many folk come poking out around here too often. Dusting off his hand along the side of his pants, the white male extended his rather dirty looking hand toward her for a shake while introducing himself, Name's Jeremiah, ma'am. Anything I can do to help a... lady, like you out?