Writer for Hire~ [Currently Closed]

[RoziePozie]

Hello~ I'm Roziepozie and I recently joined the forums. I've been a long time lurker (played some demos), and now want to join the community for real. I'm currently an amateur writer looking to become a begining professional. I'm currently enrolled in college, but I don't currently work so I have some free time on my hands. Please let me know if you're interested in me!

Current Projects:
An Attempt at Reform

Finished Projects:

Pending Projects:


Will Write:
18+
Furry
Hentai
Smutty Smut Smut
Mature Topics
Romance

Won't Write:
Overly action (Willing to do a few scenes if need be, but I prefer romance/content heavy writing if possible)

Samples:

Sample 1: Short Story format

Sirens wailed in the dead of night, people in uniforms rushing around the site of the tracks. Plumes of smoke billowed into the clear night sky. A little girl sat wide eyed next to a rescue team member as they spoke to her. The little girl could tell the worker was talking to her, but she had no idea what about. Nothing was registering correctly. The sight of flames flickered in the reflection of the little girl's eyes as she stared at the wreckage. The worker tried again, “Do you remember anything? Do you know who you are?”
The little girl didn't respond, she merely watched as the other rescue workers pulled away debris and pieces of wreckage. The sirens were deafening. The shouts of the workers were worse. She could hear the word over and over as it repeated in the little girl's head. Finally the little girl spoke, “They're dead... aren't they?” She knew in that moment she was all that was left. All she had in the whole world burned there in the remains of the family car. “Dead...” The little girl repeated without really listening for a reply.
She could see them removing the bodies for herself. Her mother was first, a sheet draped over what remained of her body. Her father's body followed, though there was even less of him. When they pulled out her little sister the night wind caught the sheet, whipping it away. The little girl could see the look of terror in her sister's eyes even from so far away. Terror had been the last thing any of them felt.
-

Lizette Estelle jolted up from her sleep. It was the same nightmare as every night. She slowly caught her breath as she ran fingers through her hair. The night her family died haunted her every day, showing up nearly nightly in her dreams. Liz wiped her brow of the sweat her horrid dream had caused and pushed away the blankets. She pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the ratty bathroom she was lucky she didn't have to share in the shitty hostel she currently occupied. With no money and bouncing from place to place, it was a heaven send to be sleeping somewhere with a bathroom at all.
Liz stripped away her clothes and tossed them on the floor while she let the rusted shower head run murky brown water. She waited until it began to run clear before she got in the chipped porcelain tub. This was her last night in the hostel as her money had already run out again. She sighed inwardly as she scrubbed her body well, unsure of when she'd have the chance to shower again. Lizette didn't refer to herself as homeless, though technically she was. Since the incident that left her alone in the world, Liz had lived on the streets. The state wanted to place her into foster care, but she couldn't stand the idea of living with people she didn't know. In retrospect, it probably wouldn't have been so bad, but what was done was done.

Sample 2: Comic book format
Chapter 1:

Pg. 1

Panel 1:
The teacher is assigning the newest project where the students have to do a book report over a list of choices of fairytales.

Panel 2:
The teacher then informs the class that the assignment is a group project and that he will pair off the students.

Panel 3:
Lizette looks displeased by the news that the project isn't solo.
<<I hope I at least get a decent partner.>>

Panel 4:
The teacher calls out Lizette's name, but following it is Ra'al, the class slacker and 'bad boy'.

Panel 5:
Split panel
Both Lizette's slightly shocked expression and Ra'al's 'tch' face.

Pg. 2

Panel 1:
Split panel of Ra'al and Lizette holding their assignment paper and looking at each other. Neither looks pleased. Liz looks apprehensive, Ra'al unamused.

Panel 2:
Liz: Um...
Lizette looking down at her assignment paper not to meet Ra'al's eyes.

Panel 3:
Ra'al: Spit it out.

Ra'al looks more irritated than before.

Lizette, panicking: R-right... Maybe we should head to... the l-library for the assignment?


Pg. 3


Panel 1:
Panoramic view of the library.
[Later...]

Panel 2:
Lizette holding her book bag entering the library.

Panel 3:
Ra'al has already arrived, waiting impatiently for her, but is still waiting.

Ra'al: You're late.

[But she was right on time.]

Panel 4:
Lizette checking her watch,
Liz: Oh. Sorry.
Her expression clearly shows she knew she wasn't late, but still apologizes.

Panel 5:
Ra'al: Let's go.

Ra'al moving past Lizette as he speaks, seemingly dis-concerned with her.

Pg. 4

Panel 1:
Ra'al leads Lizette through the library, taking her to a back room.

Panel 2:
Ra'al: I called ahead and gathered some books in the back for us.
Unpacking his bag of school supplies, only there to get finished as quick as possible.

Thought bubble: If it wasn't for fucking Shia...

Ra'al: Something about these are special according to the librarian.

Panel 3:
Liz picking up a book from a different pile, glancing at it.
Liz: “What makes them special?”
Ra'al: No clue. Let's just finish this shit.

Pg. 5

Panel 1:
Liz holding the book she picked up, looking at the back cover.
“This one isn't on the list.”

Panel 2:
Ra'al glares at her.
“Then don't bother with it.”

Panel 3:
Liz, ignoring his irritated words, looks at the front cover.
“But, it's special too?”

Ra'al: I don't fucking know.

Panel 4:
Split panel

1: Liz flips the book open

2: The book begins to glow brightly

Panel 5:
Entirely white/yellow from glow.

End chapter 1.

Sample 3: Roleplaying Format
Adelaide had calmed slightly as she came to terms with her new altered appearance. It was slightly easier since she couldn't really remember her previous life, other than the fact that she was human. So.. I'm.. a.. something now. She traced her fingers over her horns which curved in front of her new longer ears. They twitched in response to thinking about them.

Adel's head lifted as she heard someone.. or something moving around near her. She suddenly looked over to see a boy, though she wasn't exactly sure if that was what she should call him, with the long horns that grew from his skull and the orange-ish red fur that covered the parts of his body that she could see. Adelaide slowly picked herself off the ground and brushed herself off.

She gave the boy another look before turning to look around to their setting, it was similar, but at the same time very very different from earth. Close by she could see a platform with strange symbols marked upon the ground along with what appeared to be floating crystals. An occasional traveler, all having animal traits like herself and the boy, would walk upon it an disappear. Disappear? It's.. a teleport? This definitely was not earth.

Adelaide crossed her arms nervously over herself, only to find her body was even more unfamiliar than she thought. Her chest was larger, almost swollen compared to how she had been before, and her waist was smaller, more defined. This new body looked matured, though she was faintly sure she was not very old... before. But the before was too hazy to remember and trying to recall anything made her head begin to hurt.

"Ah.." She spoke aloud finally, her voice soft and extremely feminine. "E..excuse me?" She called to the boy, "Do you know.. where we are?" She hesitated at a thought that crossed her mind, but continued none the less, "W-what.. we are?"

Sample 4: Short Story Format
Empty.. That's all I feel anymore. Everyday, I sit in the furthest corner of my room on the cold floor, lights off. Dark.. That's all I ever see anymore. You know when your parents tell you, you never know what you had until it's gone? Its true. He was my everything, my sunshine in the darkness, my warmth on a cold day. Everything.. And I never told him once. He would have laughed it off anyway. We were close.. But not on that level I suppose. We were childhood friends. Love never developed between us, on his side at least.
Tears.. They've stopped falling since it happened. At one point I thought that'd be impossible, but everything is possible I suppose. Expect maybe cold fusion. He called me Luna, even though it wasn't my name. That was the way he meet me, under the moon. Our parents went to a function that was too boring that I escaped to a small meadow behind the building. On the dew-wet grass, we met. He called me Luna then and forever after.
As time passed, we became to call, see, meet each other more often. Our parents teased us with marriage proposals. I never would have believed it then that they were really serious. Every time we saw each other, I slowly began to have heavier feelings for him. His blue eyes, his dark hair, his pale skin. Every time we met, I noticed something new. Something exciting to me.
Eventually I noticed that my feelings were not so childish anymore. I don't think he knew. If he did, he never let on to me that he knew. Even now, his blue eyes and bright smile are burned into my memory. Each time my eyes close it's what I see. I can't sleep because of it. It makes me hurt so badly inside, but never as bad as he felt. I never knew his feelings, his sadness, his feelings of being overwhelmed. Why couldn't he tell even me? I'll never know now.
Shock.. It was the only thing I could feel the day I learned what happened to him. He told me he wanted to go far far away, but I never would have thought me meant to so very far. My mother woke me late at night one day, her gray hair sprawled around her face in disarray. I could see her tearstained and flushed face. The first few days I didn't eat, sleep, or breathe really. I remember rocking back and forth in my closet, hugging my knees tightly. He was gone, forever.
When you're a child, forever isn't so long. Daddy, you were gone forever. I don't want to talk to you forever.. As a child, it means nothing really. But when you grow up, you learn forever is forever. And forever is how long he will be gone from me.. Isn't it? He committed suicide, I was told that late night. The first thing I remember was laying on my bed looking up at the window near my ceiling, arm outstretched. I was looking at the light pouring in from the window through my fingers. I didn't know how long I had been awake or if I had even slept. Empty.. That's all I felt.
Sapphire.. That was the color his eyes reminded me of. No one's eye's will ever sparkle as much as his. This story I tell is sad, pathetic and a little on the occult side. Maybe I should stop here, let the rest be untold. No.. You must know how wrong things went and then how right only to end up worse.
Lonely.. It's how I felt even in a crowed room. Everyone attempted to console me, but I didn't want them. Their arms were nothing but flesh to me. Flesh I didn't want to touch. His arms were the ones I missed. His hugs were the only ones I ever wanted anymore. I remember standing at the very rooftop where he left me forever. The cold air whipping my long hair around. Luna is what he named me that night, and here I stood beneath the very moon that taunted me with his love.
The more that I think about it, maybe he did know how much I loved him. Maybe he even loved me back, but the weight of the world was just too much for him. Maybe he felt he couldn't escape everything but me so he included me as well. Maybe..
Those nights after he was gone were the most desperate ones I've ever felt. At one point I went a little crazy and started clawing at myself. It was childish, throwing a tantrum but I couldn't help myself. Since then I've worn billowing long sleeves to hide the hideous scars I made that night. I even went into a witchcraft store and bought a book. I thought during those times that maybe my love for him could bring him back to me. His blue eyes, his dark hair, his pale skin.. I wanted to see them once again.
One dark night, one of the nights where the moon hides from the world and the only thing is left is darkness and scattered stars, I set up a candle circle the way the book told me, used the chalk the way I was told, wrote what it said and even said the words it said. It didn't work.. Of course it didn't work. I thought. I broke down and cried there, lost hope of seeing him again. I knew only one other way to see him again.
Perfect.. Do you know when a paper is crinkled into a ball? You can flatten it out but it'll never be perfect again. The same logic can be applied here.
Standing on the edge he has stood, I felt the breeze he felt. I looked down at the ground he had landed. What did it feel like, when he hit the ground? Was he conscious? Did he feel it? Maybe he fainted before and didn't feel a thing. Only one way I could find out. I don't remember exactly how it felt, falling. I do remember the elevator feeling you get on rollercoasters and air rushing past. I didn't know how it felt hitting the ground though.
Cold.. Something very cold was touching me below my knees and on my back. It felt almost cradling. I remember asking myself if death was supposed to feel this way. When I opened my eyes all I could see was darkness. His arms were always warm, like sunshine. When I first realized what I did, I knew he wasn't the same, but I could love him anyway. I could love him in any way he needed me to love him. The version of him I fell in love with was warm like a summer's day, the way I learned to love him was cold like a winter's dark night.
He didn't have his blue eyes, dark hair or pale skin anymore. He's so hard to explain to people who've never seen him in this way. Frightened… it was how I felt when I first saw him this way. He was gentle and clung to me. He didn't let me hit the ground, leave the way he did. This is where I learned he loved me as much as I loved him. He didn't have a defined physical shape anymore.. He didn't have legs even. He was pure darkness. He had a head-like shape, even arm and hand-like shapes. Basically, he was a torso made of pure, cold darkness. If you've ever seen drawings of a genie, you'd know how his lower half looked, that smoke like shape.
I didn't care. He was back with me. It was all I wanted and it was what I got. Speaking… He couldn't do it anymore. It, too, didn't matter to me. I could understand him all the well. For weeks we were in a happy-like state. I didn't notice the lack of color in my skin or the looseness of my clothes. I had him back and it was all I wanted. Food and sunshine didn't matter. I talked to him for hours and laid in his cold arms. He couldn't reply verbally, but I knew what he was saying. Luna.. It was what he named me and it fitted. I was his moon and he was my night.
I slowly fell into a space that I couldn't leave. I was consumed by the need to stay with him, keep from losing him again. I clung to what of him I had left. To me, no matter how crinkled and torn an imitation of what he once was, he was perfect. Because of my long sleeves I didn't notice what was happening to me. Not at first anyway. I felt weaker.. Slowly. He made sure that I wouldn't notice. At least, not until it was too late. Even now, as I write this he'd finishing me.
Thin.. I never thought I'd have a problem with being too thin. He was so captivating to me I didn't notice as my slender frame became frail and fading. I couldn't see what he was doing to me, his cold love was the only thing I could ever concentrate on anymore. My parents didn't know where I was, how could they? I'm sure even if they found me they wouldn't recognize me. Even I was a pale imitation of myself. He was all consuming.
As I became weaker, he grew stronger. I noticed when he gained legs and had a definite frame to him. It made me so happy to see him becoming more and more like his old self I didn't even notice my slow deterioration. I loved him more then even I knew, but I learned only too late that this was not him. Not anymore. His soul had returned to the living world dark and twisted, feeding off my love and my own life. I only realized in the end of the darkest night that he saved me that night for only one reason. To kill me himself and gain my life. Even now, as I begin to fade I realized that he was no longer my love but something dark and evil my obsession had unleashed upon the world.
Death.. It's not as scary as they say in movies and books. Maybe, to me though. I think it's because I know that as I die, nothing will happen where I'm going, but even as in the form he took, which at the finale of what I started he took on my appearance, his evil will terrorize the world. I'm too weak to care any longer. I'm fading into the night.
Luna.. It's not my real name, but it's the name he gave me. How fitting..

[RoziePozie]

As I didn't mention it before, I am mainly looking for paying positions. We can discuss price upon PM. I may be willing to do some free writing until I am commissioned, but it depends on if the project is interesting to me and how much work is needed to put into it.

[Mad Harlequin]

Honestly, from one writer to another, I think you should start with free work first. Apply for paying positions if you see them available, but it'll be easier for you to build a following if you have a body of work to which future potential clients can refer when they're scouting. That's why I'm not specifically asking for money right now. I just want to write. I certainly won't turn people away if they offer to compensate me for my work, but until I've been involved in a number of projects and can properly demonstrate my abilities, I won't feel right asking for payment.

[RoziePozie]

Honestly, from one writer to another, I think you should start with free work first. Apply for paying positions if you see them available, but it'll be easier for you to build a following if you have a body of work to which future potential clients can refer when they're scouting. That's why I'm not specifically asking for money right now. I just want to write. I certainly won't turn people away if they offer to compensate me for my work, but until I've been involved in a number of projects and can properly demonstrate my abilities, I won't feel right asking for payment.

Thanks for the advice! I do consider any project presented to me, it just depends on how much time is needed for them if I can do it for free or not. I've had some replies of people interested in me but can't afford to pay, which is fine. I just don't want to let myself get overwhelmed with projects and of course if someone wants to pay their project takes precedence.

That being said, no one should hesitate to ask me to join their projects if they like my style. I'm certainly interested in building up a portfolio and experience. >w<

[MoonStar]

Honestly, from one writer to another, I think you should start with free work first. Apply for paying positions if you see them available, but it'll be easier for you to build a following if you have a body of work to which future potential clients can refer when they're scouting. That's why I'm not specifically asking for money right now. I just want to write. I certainly won't turn people away if they offer to compensate me for my work, but until I've been involved in a number of projects and can properly demonstrate my abilities, I won't feel right asking for payment.

Thanks for the advice! I do consider any project presented to me, it just depends on how much time is needed for them if I can do it for free or not. I've had some replies of people interested in me but can't afford to pay, which is fine. I just don't want to let myself get overwhelmed with projects and of course if someone wants to pay their project takes precedence.

That being said, no one should hesitate to ask me to join their projects if they like my style. I'm certainly interested in building up a portfolio and experience. >w<

"if someone wants to pay their project takes precedence." agree and disagree
agree yes paid projects come first then free ones but disagree if you mean that if your already working on a free project you will drop it/put it on hold to start/finish a paid project. personally i dont think thats neither right neither fair.

[RoziePozie]

I don't intend to drop a project because I get commissioned, but my focus would be more on the paid project first then then any other I've committed to. I do take my commitments seriously. c:

[RoziePozie]

Updated the first post with current/finished/pending projects.