Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea In a nutshell, Elias was a sociopathic lunatic that believed he had the right to whatever he desired. He was lascivious, arrogant and worst of all, tyrannical, a personality trait that Walcott was infamous for. That being said, Elias was heavily attracted to her smitten, one might even say. At the time he was hungrily eying a bottle of rum when her siloutte passed out of the quarter of his eye. His lips curled into a smile, revealing a set of perpetually perfect teeth. Like a wolf stalking a doe he glided soundlessly through the isles, pouncing just as Walcott had reconciled with Matt. His eyes were dark and lusty but held this gentlemanly charm that was unusual for him to exhibit. Emmanuele, he breathed. He caught the husk in his voice, straightened his posture and ran a hand over his scalp - there was no hair, just remnants of jet black peach fuzz and a stringy grey toque that sat on his crown. I didn't realize you liked sambuca ... all along I've been going downtown, drinkin' it alone and here you are - an angel with a pint. He smiled which grew flat when he caught wind of Matt. 'Sup, he greeted dismissively, nodding his head. So you're going to Tobin's Halloween party tonight? You never party! I heard you get wild when you do, though! I think the circumstances this time are a little different. Fuckin' right! Dress up, eh? And bring caveman here with ya. He playfully - almost provokingly - patted Matt on the head. I'll see you ladies tonight. And caveman! Go just like that. You look great. Walcott heaved a heavy sigh and flattened her one, stubborn curl slick against her scalp. Yeah ... yeah, I'm ready to go.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea Walcott's only reply to Matt was It's undecided. She was cryptic and vague she seldom made her plans apparent unless it benefited her in some manner. However, she heavily doted on the notion of attending. Because she was saving up her money to move back to Brazil she hadn't grown attached to too many people save for one or two who she could consider good friends. It was last minute, but if she decided to attend, she figured she'd have a half-assed costume to put together in about two or three hours stops. She was creative, though, and figured she could conjure something up with relative ease. Even though it wasn't Halloween yet - hell, Halloween was a good week and a half away - university students were just making up excuses to throw themed parties. There would likely be several other Halloween parties that week alone god knew what manner of foolishness would occur on the 31st itself. She began unfastening her jacket and disdained it on the couch, eying her quarters for a split moment then briefly giving Matt one last overlook. It was a look he would likely decipher as, Obviously I'm going.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea There was no better sensation then ambling through the outskirts of campus on a mild Autumn night with a potent buzz and a half-full bottle of Jack Daniel's. Of course Emmanuele Walcott was a coherant drunk, but she didn't attend wild social functions for the soul purpose of having a drink. She liked to observe people document how foolish they acted under the influence and how they went about presenting themselves. She would sit in silence, watching, and when she was sated she would join in the festivities. The party itself could be described as a giant clusterfuck. The house - an infamous frat house on campus - was dressed to the nines in tasteful Halloween themed banners and decorations. Streamers and ribbons were hung loosely on the walls with neat arrays of strung bats draped from the ceiling. The costumes varied from suggestive and scanty to horrific and overdone. Walcott had found the median. At home she discovered an old pair of ram horns a friend used for a play. They were big - but virtually weightless - and coiled into a tight, dial-like spiral. She teased and flipped her curls so they covered the band and made her mane appear wild and unruly. The make-up and outfit all fell into place afterwards. In fact, Elias was the first to notice her ostentatious costume. Satyr, right? he noted silently, his smile reflecting the lusty intent brooding within his mind. He was noticably disheveled by her outfit her top, a tight bandeau, made her breast appear fuller and more voluptuous then they naturally were where as her bottoms, skin tight denim jeans, accented the curvature of her marvelous ass. She gazed - uninterested - at an antsy Elias while she took a long, unusually drawn out sip of her sambuca.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea Fuck off, Elias rebutted irately. He clutched his beer tight in his hand and flashed Matt a challenging sneer. He had himself convinced that Walcott would be his for the night. He envisioned at least getting her in bed so he could lay aside her and if he was fortunate enough, cop a feel or two. He felt as if he had an unworldly desire for her. She was an exotic, forbidden, leggy tyrant with the most beautiful gingerale eyes he'd ever seen. Marlow was looking for you. Of course this was a lie Elias conjured up. Marlow was the resident red-head who was equally as fiery in the sheets. She was wild and quite the renown sexual deviant she had a romp or two with Matt but if Matt were socially inclined he'd know that Marlow was now in an exclusive relationship with her military boyfriend. No more then a mosquito would a horse, Matthew. Walcott's chime made Elias' eyes grow wide. He glanced at her, pleased to hear her voice at last. A gentle waft of her warm breath caressed the inside of his nostrils carrying a potent scent of black liquorice with it. Seemingly out of the blue Walcott thrust her now empty bottle of sambuca into Elias' chest. He instinctively caught it. I have another bottle stashed in the cooler downstairs. Would it be too much trouble to ask for another? He shook his head rapidly. Of course not. I'll be right back. The man nearly skipped towards the basement with a hop in his step that screamed I'm getting lucky tonight! Meanwhile, Walcott wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb and gently suckled on the dollops of sambuca left on her index finger. It was apparently that the alcohol took affect - she was increasingly lax and her expression was blanker then per usual. She mustered a smile though - triumphant more then anything. He'll be back in 5 minutes. I'd prefer not to be around when he does. A hint that was subtle, but equally apparent.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea Without giving it a second thought, Walcott absentmindedly scooped up a half-drank can of disdained beer laying on a night table next to the bed. With little to no disregard to whose lips had laid on it, she pressed the lukewarm aluminum to her full lips and let the brew stream down the back of her throat. She shook the can - now empty - and slammed it on the tabletop. A few scantily clad party goers hobbled past the bedroom door, all huddled together and toting about their half-consumed bottles of Bacardi and heavily beaten flipflops. Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! They cheered. Suddenly, Walcott lifted her head, her fingers inadvertently kneading her kneecaps as she sat at the foot of the bed. Shots - to Walcott - was like a contest. It was the ultimate way to prove one's superiority. Though Walcott generally didn't participate in such menial pissing contests, she did like to dabble from time to time, especially if her competition involved the varsity football team, resident thugs and self-proclaimed party boys. Shots, shots, shots! The chanting was muffled - though audible - through the beaten floorboards. The Latina tyrant stood and meandered to the door just in time for another group to shuffle downstairs. You want in on this? she questioned. For those who knew Walcott, she liked to make some outlandish bets on shots and drinking contest.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea Before Matthew could even chastise her Walcott had mosied on down the stairwell and into the spacious dining room which seemed to - at most - hold a capacity of maybe twelve people but appeared to be overflowing with spectators. At the far end of the table stood a very proud Elias, his head turned upright and cheeks rosy and prim. A slew of empty shot glasses were testimony to his victory, the trophies being a motley harem of college girls that watched on with glossy eyes. His victim - a stalky football player - was doubled over in the kitchen sink, heaving and retching due to his ridiculously high level of intoxication. I'm ready for round two! Elias slurred. With little to no dexterity he tossed his arm around a blond and sloppily planted a kiss on her cheek. The instant Walcott's presence was made apparent, however, his flaxen prize was tossed idly to the side like some manner of ragdoll. You playin', baby? Walcott plucked a shotglass from the table, examined it and slammed it down in front of her. You sure? He wiped his mouth and suddenly turned his attention to Matt. Caveman. You get in on this too. Let's bet on this. Walcott stood lax as per usual, but when her lips parted and fords fell out, the whole room fell to silence. I'll blow Matt if he wins. I'll blow you if you win. Elias appeared overwrought with lascivious joy. And if you win? Then I simply win.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea You've got to be fucking kidding me! Elias jeered, You don't even drink! Walcott! You're bringing some scruffy fucking lightweight to the table! Look at 'em! Fuckin' ... scraggly as all hell and probably hasn't fisted a glass of wine before. He left forth a hefty howl of laughter that - more then he wanted to admit - make his head spin. He composed himself, straightened his smile into a sneer and slammed a bottle of Jack Daniel's down on the table. Walcott - much to his dismay - had already began agilely downing vodka filled shot glasses that were being poured by a handful of Elias's flunkees. At the time she seemed rather composed and kept a steady pace until Elias - keen on winning - instructed one of his followers to fill a shotglass with windex rather then vodka. Walcott unknowingly ingested the transparent liquid. The instant it collided with her tongue, her eyes welled up with tears. She turned her head and spit it out. Out! She's out! Cried a man from the back. Walcott smacked her lips and reached for the closest bottle she could find which - much to her content - happened to be beer. That's not vodka, she noted dryly. Suddenly her eyes grew dark and she advanced violently, only to be subdued by a throng of varsity football players. That's ... some sort of cleaner. What are you guys thinking? Her voice was fatigued, but angered. It's vodka, Elias lied. He appeared to be reassuring even as his body shook and his stomach churned violently like a tropical storm.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea You guys have that half-Lebanese fuck in there pouring cleaner into shot-glasses. Does that not strike you as foul? Though Walcott's voice appeared to be mildly ginger, her tone was dark and distressed. A semi-circle of three football players watched on as she continued to plead her case, however, they seemed unswayed by her ceremonious chirping. It's how we play sometimes, the quarterback reassured. He came to the realization that Walcott was volatile when provoked. He wasn't quite prepared to deal with the aftermath if she blew a gasket. You drink cleaner ? she replied curtly. The quarterback hung his head low and sighed. Walcott just ... go outside, get some fresh air and sober up. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a condescending eyebrow at her aggressors. She was too exhausted - and admittedly a little too drunk - to bother trying to subdue three overgrown varsity football players. Instead she took to the exit of the building, greeted by a whip of frigid air that stung her cheeks. She shuddered and clumsily buttoned up her peacoat before advancing, remaining enclosed beyond a grand oak tree with a bottle of water donated to her by one of the worried football players. Meanwhile, Elias appeared to be done in by his opponent. His belly swelled, rippling with virtually a two litres of vodka and other manner of alcohol. He slammed his last shotglass down on the table. With tear in his eyes he fled into the kitchen after he found the burning too unbearable. With brute strength he shoved aside his victim who was nursing his upset stomach at the sink and emptied his own. The crowd jeered and cheered in disgust.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea Such is the prize of these pissing contests, Walcott hummed gently through the ribbed neck of her water bottle. She took two more shaky swigs before placing the beaten container on the ground next to a twisted tree trunk. Both herself and Matt knew he was in absolutely no condition to be receiving extra pleasurable sexual favors while dangerously intoxicated. It would figure that when a man was on the precipice of vomiting his mind would first flee to thoughts of sex. It worries me that you're more concerned about your cock then your stomach. She virtually nodded off with that statement. She blinked, shook her head and absentmindedly began combing through her illustrious coal curls. Much to her chagrin, Walcott drove to the party that evening which meant that she would be staying the night lest she wished ti risk a volatile vehicular accident or a visit by an overbearing police officer. I'm going to go scavenge for a place to sleep while everyone is preoccupied. As for you, might be wise to go lay down.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea No deal, she interrupted. Her eyes, reflecting her uncaring, cast their sight over a copse of trees then to the ground where her horns laid disdained. She reached dexterously into her breast pocket and withdrew a cylindrical container that appeared to be half-filled with pumpkin colored capsules. With a skillful unfurl of long, womanly fingers, she lobbed the bottle towards Matt's direction. It hit the ground with a brief rattle and rolled feebly to his feet. Walcott knew they would ease his stomach pain and possibly prevent vomiting if he rested and refrained from any further alcohol consumption. Now we're square. I'm going to go hustle a room. Find me when you can stand for two seconds without keeling over. It hadn't taken Walcott long to find a room. It was a small one - likely one of the rooms that were off limits originally - but the instant the door opened she was greeted with a throng of frat boys chuckling and smoking cigarettes. Some stopped and looked at her, others continued their conversation. Walcott managed to cajole them into leaving by mentioning the existence of a keg in the dining room. As they scrambled towards the door, Walcott left it open a sliver and hastily opened a window near the bed. Within moments the smothering scent of smoke and tobacco were whisked from the chamber and out into the frigid Autumn air. Walcott's fingers - now stinging from the cold - fumbled to unbutton her denim jeans. She squirmed out of them and peeled back the disturbed blankets on the cot, painfully aware of the wind as it bit her backside.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea Walcott felt as if the room were spinning violently like some manner of invisible, intangible force was jerking her around with the intent to seriously injure her. This was apparent as she evidently struggled with removing her bottoms which had been uncooperative or so she believed. At that particular instant she hadn't concerned herself with Matt's presence in the bed, she merely desired an undisturbed rest so she would be able to make the trip home the following morning. Without much further adieu the Brazilian remnant lifted her body and threw it upon the bed with little to no discretion. It was a fight to find the opening where she had peeled the comforter back but, after much thorough searching, she found it. Just ... sleep in the bed, Matthew, she purred through the pillowcase. Her hair laid strewn about in an unrealistic fashion, like shaky black serpents yearning for freedom.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea Try and try as she may, Walcott could not bring herself to slumber. Her fingers twitched absentmindedly, the string of the hawkish Autumn air sweeping through the window and trawling underneath the bedskirt. A groan fell from the grace of her maw the instant she felt the wind strike her backside. Almost vehemently she peeled back the blanket, absentmindedly swinging her powerful, elegant legs over Mathew's torso. She sat weightlessly upon his groin for an instant, fingers unfurled and feebly reaching for the window's ledge. It hadn't taken her long to maneuvre herself in such a position that she was able to use her weight as leverage and, as a result, successfully closed the window. Within seconds she could feel the heat seeping into the room from downstairs paired with the dying chatter of intoxicated partygoers. Of course the Brazilian nomad had realize she was sitting perched a top of a rather ill Matthew, she was merely under the impression that he was sleeping.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea The very instant Matthew parted his lips Walcott's hand reached out, her lengthy fingers furling neatly around the man's mandible to successfully cover his mouth. You talk too fucking much, she whispered almost inaudibly. Her grasp was very gentle as was her utterance, but it was her gaze that was frightening predatory. On a bad day Walcott was ridiculously lethargic. She was a sinner, her crime being that of sloth she knew if hell existed she'd surely be sentenced for her lazy tendencies. At the time being she was physically unphased by his boyish touch. She purposely rested her free hand on the inside of the addict's thigh where her fingers danced sporadicly at the worn denim. Her caresses were soft and warming, a sample at best, perhaps a mean to calm this chatty monster laying beneath her. When she had been sure Matthew was silenced she sheepishly withdrew her palm and grimaced. Honestly, Matthew, you need to be a little more suave then that.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea It had taken time, but Walcott appeared to be rather skillful with her dexterous hands. With ease she managed to undo the button sewn taught on the denim then unfastened the zipper which appeared to give way before she managed to touch it. While one hand neatly folded back the flaccid creases of his jeans, the other steadily declined down his abdomen, below his naval and over each muscle contracting eagerly in anticipation. Her eyes were like these twin, glowing orbs that smoldered like obsidian in the low light of the moon. They fixated their gaze upon Matthew's midsection as her fingers glided over the narrow pathway of hair that lead into his boxers. At this time she had already revealed a heavy fraction of his undergarments, allowing her uncalloused palms to rest upon the elastic band. As Walcott had perceived things, this monstrous sex addict laying helplessly beneath her had been accustomed to having things done quick and painlessly. For Walcott, such means did not exist.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea The very instant Matthew had finished his scornful grunt Walcott, had taken his erection in her hand through the material of his undergarments. She was taken aback by the head while her palm periodically rode up and down his shaft. It was a long, kneading motion, mildly paced and easily exerted. She began picturing his anatomical details in her head. Graphically . While she continued to allow her soft hand to tour up and down his engorged cock she tilted her head, causing an avalanche of her stunning ethnic curls to spill into view and reframe her already stunning face. The instant he had the nerve to bark a rather heated insult, Walcott gave him one long, hard stroke through his boxers and insured she had paid close attention to the crown. If that's the case, forgive me for intruding. I'll stop. She swung her leg around him, reclaiming her position she had governed initially before brazenly venturing to close the window.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea With Matthew's request she recaptured her original position - awkwardly, due to her intoxication that hadn't quite yet relieved itself - and eyed him with a curious, somewhat condescending glance. What's that? You don't want me to stop? she questioned flatly. For the second time her hand had accommodated Matthew's stiff erection. Without much further adieu Walcott gently peeled back the band of his boxers, freeing his manhood which sprung forth with a strict, wanton fervency. She rested her palm at the base first, gently foiling her fingers around the shaft and rode it up until she reached the top. It was a pleasantly warm sensation, one she found nostalgic to some degree. You may want to grab this addiction by the horns. It appears ... troublesome.
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RE Living Together Is The Name Of The Game ansem125 and Oversea In a futile attempt to silence him, Walcott gently gave the base of his shaft a firm, loving squeeze, riding her cupped palm slowly up to the crown before taking the swelling, nearly tumid head between her index finger and thumb. She plucked at it gently, rubbing as if she were attempting to purge her digits of some grainy substance. A thin dollop of precum appeared to be present, slickening her hand's fluid motion to allow a smoother thrust of the palm. She continued to nurse his thigh, dainty yet powerful digits sliding up and down over his tot hamstrings.
Thread: The Hellsing Effect [Karameida x christian7_41king]

A Role Play Involving christian741king and, Karameida Yamada In a setting based on the anime Hellsing
Thread: The Hellsing Effect [Karameida x christian7_41king]

RE The Hellsing Effect Seras Victoria Sera's kept one hand on the hilt of her gun while her other hand nudged her fallen comrade Oh bloody fucking hell.... she said gritting her teeth. A movement in front of her caused her to draw her gun and, aim it at a women who wasn't so much walking rather than dragging herself towards her. What the fuck is going on here? she muttered shooting the woman in the head. The woman dropped but, the sound of the gunfire probably alerted more of whatever that woman was to her location. I hate to do this but I have to get out of here... She said looking at her comrades bodies reluctantly before running down the road, trying to get back to town and, away from the monster infested place .
Thread: The Hellsing Effect [Karameida x christian7_41king]

RE The Hellsing Effect Jack wolf was having the time of his life killing the ghouls of the vampire. He heard the odd gun shot and said as he dispatched another group of ghouls. a survivor? he then ran at full inhuman speed toward where the gunshot originated from. He looked around and saw them, a girl? how interesting he thought as he slowly approached her. his eyes shineing with unnatural inteligence. his long balck hair reaching to the center of his back. his dark coat rendering him almost invisable in the night. his baseball hat was turned sideways as he said well now this is interesting indeed