[F4A] The Black Rose- A dangerous game of seduction and obsession with a psychopath goth woman.
Wake up. Morning beauty routine. Breakfast. Work. Lunch. Work. Get off. Get home. Dinner. Clean. Night beauty routine. Sleep.
Rinse and repeat with no end in sight.
Yes, she still went places on her days off. Yes, she went out to bars and clubs and libraries and graveyards and the woods. Sometimes there were people there. Sometimes there weren’t. Didn’t matter. None of them were hers. She never went with anyone, she almost never left with anyone, and she spent her time alone. At home, at work, out in the world, it didn’t matter, she was always alone.
Not in the way most people meant it, because Lara wasn’t like most people. All of her foster families had always reported that she was quiet, unnervingly so. That there was something in her green eyes that wasn’t normal, not natural. Cold. Observing. She was often compared to a predator, usually black widows and jungle cats ready to pounce. Patient. Calculating. Precise. These qualities only grew more pronounced as she grew older, and she never stayed with one family for long. Bouncing from home to home, knocked all around the system until the day she turned eighteen and aged out.
Her social life didn’t exactly improve from there. She ended up where she ended up, never having any real sense of purpose. She drifted from city to city, state to state, just taking what she could get when she got there, and bringing little with her. When she was ready to walk away, she just did it. Always sold almost all of her things, always quit whatever meaningless job she had managed to get, always changed phone numbers and never talked to anyone she may have met again. Never felt any attachment to any of it.
Lara knew she wasn’t normal. She knew that. Therapists and doctors and social workers had been prodding her for as far back as she could remember, trying to figure out what was wrong with her. They always said it nicer than that, sure, but it was what they meant. Lara had a perfect photographic memory, even if she didn’t like to advertise that, and she recalled every moment spent with each like they were yesterday. Antisocial disorder, they said. Psychopathy, they said. Severe childhood trauma, they said. Mentally unstable, they said.
But they were wrong about the last one.
Lara was not unstable. Quite the opposite. Her state of mind was always crystal clear, her thoughts always in order, her actions always deliberate and premeditated. She knew what she was, and what she wasn’t, and she knew she had nothing in common with the people diagnosing her. She had nothing in common with everyone she had ever met, actually. There was something they had that she didn’t, a facet to their emotional states that she could never truly comprehend: empathy. When she looked at another human being, she did not see anything she could identify as similar to her. The feeling she had looking at other people was the same that she had looking at a dog, or a cat, or a deer in the woods. Not nothing. They could be amusing, or useful in certain circumstances. She might even be able to successfully fake an emotional bond between them. But in the end, they were no kin to her. The same mind did not operate in both of their heads, and Lara knew that. Eventually, they did as well.
For as distant as Lara felt from people, she still found herself drawn to them. Existence was monotony, predictability, routine. She had perfected her existence to an exact science, every second of every minute of every day accounted for and pre-planned to the last excruciating detail. But people? People could be unpredictable. Most weren’t, but some were. And those were the ones that she wanted to find, the ones she sorted through the masses for, the ones she hunted for. It wasn’t for anything explicitly malicious. She had no intention of physically harming them. Any fool could hurt someone physically, and no matter how skilled they were at it, such hunters were but brutish thugs with no real imagination.
No. Lara wanted to corrupt them. To twist them around her finger, to examine every facet of every piece of their soul, to know them inside and out, better than they knew themselves. She wanted to drive them to obsession, until she took up all of their thoughts, waking and sleeping, until the very concept of being without her was like poison to them. She did not desire them directly, not exactly. Emotional and physical intimacy was just another tool to corrupt them, to twist and break them, just to see how far she could go until they snapped.
Inevitably, however, they always did. That’s when the fun stopped. When they started screaming at her, demanding to know things, to put labels on things, babbling and ranting about their emotions and blah blah blah. Lara’s eyes always glazed over when that happened, her interest already killed. The fun always stopped when they stopped playing the game. In the end, the game was all that mattered, after all. It was the only thing keeping her sane, keeping her from losing her grip on reality entirely, the only thing that even made her want to be alive.
And so here she was. New state, new city, new apartment, new job. She’d restarted her vinyl collection for the tenth time, exploring this city, reformatting her schedule and routine to accommodate it. So far, no one interesting to hunt, no one willing to play her game. It was very, very boring. Yet, Lara had an interesting feeling about this one. A feeling that maybe, this time, she would find something more than a slightly amusing plaything. Maybe she would find someone she could relate to. Someone she had something in common with. Another outsider, another freak, another monster in human skin.
She had to hope. Because if she didn’t find someone else like her soon. . . she was pretty sure she was gonna break at last.
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Hello there! You can call me Val or Nightingale, whichever you like really, and I am an advanced lit writer in the CST timezone looking for a partner for a longterm slow burn romance. As you can tell by this intro blurb, Lara is. . . not your standard goth girl to say the least. Is she a psychopath? Probably. Will she break your heart? Chances are good. Is she toxic? Most definitely. Is she so hot that every second of it is well worth it? You’re goddamn right.
I have more details about Lara that we can discuss, but basically she’s a twenty five year old tall redhead goth with some really extreme issues. My ideal partner won’t be looking to fix her, exactly, but instead to finally make her feel something. She connects best with fellow outsiders and outcasts, but honestly, I would hear out just about any character concept as long as it’s well thought out.
I’m imagining this as a series of scenes that take place over a stretch of time, some longer than others, as Lara and your character play out her ‘game’ that she loves so much. A game of seduction, cold shoulders, ‘chance’ encounters, and dark obsession. Obvious dark themes going on here, so you definitely have to be cool with that.
I can do a couple of replies a day, depending on how busy I am with work, but honestly OOC chatter is gonna be where I shine the most. I love really connecting with my writing partners, it’s so much fun!
If you’re interested, just hit me up with your character concept. I would prefer if it was at least somewhat coherent and thought out, but even if you only have something really rough, I can work with that from there. Skies the limit, just be passionate about your character, that’s what really matters to me. I look forward to hearing from you!