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Freelance Writer/Editor/Proofreader Seeking Work! [OPEN]

Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 1:45 pm
by Nephalos
Greetings, world!

I'm Nephalos, sometimes known by my writing pseudonym Tristan Reinmar or my reddit username


Rates and relevant rules:

USD, paypal only
$.05/word for writing

$.03/word for rewriting

$.02/word for editing and proofreading

If any research is necessary, I'll charge $15 an hour for that.

I can write 12,000 or more words a week (That's 12,000 thoroughly edited and researched words, not merely 12,000 words of a first draft). Please gauge your expectations appropriately and inform me of any deadlines you have beforehand.

I'll be giving you updates and samples at least bi-weekly to ensure regular communication and adherence to your creative direction. If the project is short enough, then obviously only one sample would be necessary, and I would always expect to be paid before giving you the finished work. On the other hand, if the project is longer, I would expect to be paid on a piecemeal basis (every ten thousand words seems agreeable, but I'm willing to discuss this in depth).

I can write in just about any style - first person, third person, past tense, present tense (I haven't written anything in second person before, but I would be willing to try~!) and I can deliver my work to you in just about any format. I can certainly deliver your script in Renpy format, if you so desire.

If you'd like me to join your team, talk to me about that, and perhaps we can work something out. I love working with others to create something beautiful.

About Me:

Writing is the passion that has driven me since I was only ten years old.

I am:

-A writer with particular focus in romance, fantasy, science fiction, and erotica. That said, I’m adaptable and able to edit, write, or critique across the literary spectrum.

-Able to accrue a regular following and generate appealing writing. I have, at least 200,000 views on the stories I’ve written on, and have received numerous reviews, favorites, followers, and fans. I interact regularly with my reviewers (positive or negative) and seek out their constructive criticism.

-A student. I have an Associate’s Degree and am currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree in English and creative writing.

-An experienced editor. Aside from my own work, I’ve also edited newspaper articles for Infantry magazine, a publication focused on the United States Army. Additionally, I’ve also edited documents in a secretarial and professional setting.

As far as VNs go, I've worked with WatercressStudios on the release of Palinurus ( ... =621971158 - I'm listed as a contributor under the Steam name "Nephalos") and am currently working on their full length VN Avitus ( I also had a hand in writing the recently released Fare Thee Well (


I'm capable of writing in multiple styles.

Writing Samples:

First, a sample most relevant to most viewers here - something modern, a slice-of-life drama where things might've gone a little askew:
Cleaning out my backpack always made for a few good laughs. Inevitably, that missing homework assignment would turn up two months after it was relevant. Maybe I'd even find that slip of paper from the girl who volunteers at the school library.

Going with the easiest method I knew of, I turned it upside down and emptied its contents onto my otherwise clean bedroom floor.

Honestly, there wasn't much there. My last year of school was winding down, and I only had a half-day schedule. Sorting things into two basic piles was easy enough. My books and binders were quickly stacked into an angular tower, leaving me staring at what remained. There were those three copies of the photography club’s flyer that never made it onto the locker room wall - stained in swaths of black and grey by the broken ends of pens and pencils that lingered beyond their use.

One of the sheets made me stop. It was a character sheet for the tabletop RPG club that Bradley had started. I had only went to a few sessions before deciding that I had other priorities.

A small smile crept onto my face as I read the name aloud, "Calathas Shadeheart, sixth level Dark Elf Magus.”

Good times. Only, they weren't all good times. I remember Bradley's increasing frustration with me as I explained that I couldn't come to the next session. It seemed a disproportionate level of agitation for something so trivial. Perhaps not; it went deeper than mere scheduling conflicts. Of course, that's how it started. Soon enough, I was finding myself responding to other people's messages before him. One day, I just didn't bother responding at all. A casual wave or greeting as we passed in the halls was enough.

My introspection was interrupted by my phone, buzzing a few times. It was Sharon. Apparently a friend's parents had let them use a houseboat for a party. I was invited. I replied that I was coming, but she wasn't the only one who would send me a text telling me about it.

The plan was for me to pick Sharon up in a few hours and drive her there. While I took a shower in preparation, I wondered briefly if I should invite Bradley. I knew the answer before I spent too long considering it. He wasn't really the type, and the fact that a lot of my friends considered him something of a social pariah just made the decision easier.

I made sure to groom my appearance into something acceptable before leaving. I opted for a button up black shirt with styled and parted hair. A splash of cologne completed the ensemble, and I was soon driving down the darkening streets of Vancouver. Neon signs and a gathering crowd told me that I wouldn't be the only one partying tonight. With graduation so near, the bars and clubs were sure to be crowded.

Sharon's house could be described as a clean, modern two-story among other clean and modern two stories. I was happy to see she had opted for black when she walked down her driveway.
Like any gentleman would, I opened the door for her.

Her heels clacked against the concrete and she gave me a friendly wave.

"How's it going? You look nice," I said, stopping her with a hug and kiss. That may have been a standard greeting for anyone going out with their girlfriend, but no amount of stretching the truth was required here. Sharon was attractive - tall, blonde, with blue eyes. Cheerleading and track had shaped her body over the years. She knew this, and dressed to show off.

"Thanks, Nate," she said, returning the affection before crawling in. I closed the door for her and we were off.

She filled my ears with the usual gossip - who was coming, who they were coming with, who had been forbidden to come by their parents, and who was sneaking out to come anyway. I listened enough to nod at the appropriate times, but otherwise I paid more attention to the music I was playing in the car. It was all trivial bullshit, and the information would be different next week. Hell, it would be largely pointless after graduation anyway.

I had to park a block or two away, but it wasn't really an inconvenience. The night was lovely, and walking with Sharon on my arm made it better.

"So how did your finals go?" I asked. Sharon laughed a bit and shook her head.

"Really? Come on," she said, pulling me along by my arms.

The party was well underway when we arrived. Someone had rigged up a sound system on the deck of the boat, but apparently ownership of the auxiliary cable was contested. Either that, or they were participating in an impromptu mix of 30 second music clips.

As I expected, the inside of the houseboat was rather dark. Food lined the table; more for show than anything else. The shadowed corners of the rooms were where the real consumption was happening.

"Hey, Nate, I'm glad you could make it," said Joey, putting one of his powerful, linebacker hands on my shoulder in greeting. I gave him a fistbump in return.

"Nice hair," I said, giving him a skeptical glance. It reminded me somewhat of that classic 'Flock of Seagulls' look. He laughed and then nodded to Sharon as well.

"It's good to see you again. It's been awhile," he said, leading us into one of the aforementioned dark corners, where a few people were crouched around a coffee table. In a typical alpha male display, he never bothered saying where we were going or what we were going to do; he just assumed we would follow.

"Alright Nathan, pick your poison," he said, gesturing to classmate. I hesitated just a bit at the sight.

There were some things I was used to at this point. Underage drinking and marijuana were fairly normal things to see at the parties I had been to. Less common were ecstasy and Molly, the two substances in front of me.

"They're the same," was the only thing I could muster, immediately regretting it.

"What?" Joey asked, raising a brow. The miniscule bag containing a few stamped pills froze in his hand, partway to his mouth.

"Ex and Molly are both MDMA, just in different forms," I explained nonchalantly, gesturing to the bowl of ecstasy.

Joey laughed and elbowed me, "This fucking guy, right?" he said, and the other people laughed along with him, including Sharon.

"Hey Nate, would you mind taking some of these and handing them out upstairs? I said I would, but I'm occupied, you know," said James. I hadn't recognized him earlier - apparently he was 'occupied' with the girl currently straddling him on the couch. Despite this, he managed to reach over and hand me five or ten of the small bags.

I took them and deposited them in my pocket with a nod, "Yeah, no problem."

All but one of them. I should probably try it out. The pill was small and innocuous looking. Deceptive. I suppose exactly like one would expect. I washed it down with a swig of beer and walked upstairs with Sharon.

The music situation had seemingly been sorted out. A combination of the substances in my bloodstream, the loud music, and the scent of smoke made my senses all but useless out there.

I can't quite recall the next few hours. A blur of dancing, drinking, kissing, and sex - I think. The sound that sobered me up was very clear, however.

I dismissed the calls of the students on the roof as drunken rambling, but even through the shuttered windows of the bedroom Sharon had dragged me into, I could see the flashing blue and red lights. The sirens were heard shortly afterward.

"Shit!" Sharon said, getting dressed in a rush. I followed suit.

"It shouldn't be that big of a deal. I'm sure they'll give us the usual talk about underage drinking..." she said.

Still groggy, I ran into the bathroom to splash some water on my face, wondering if I should try to hide. The sound of chaotic jumping and swimming from outside told me that at least a few of my classmates had opted for trying to run. They wouldn't make it far, though. Even from in here I could tell the place was surrounded. Running or hiding were both terrible options.

Maybe Sharon was right. I'm sure the officers run into parties like this one all the time. Maybe they'd just send us home with a stern talking to. I guess honesty was the best policy this time.
I sighed, put on my coat, and walked outside. A line seemed to be forming.

"You there. Step into line. Turn out your pockets," an officer said to me. The party lights reflected off of his name badge from the top of the boat - they seemed depressing and purposeless when the only soundtrack was that of the sirens. 'Officer Duquette' it read, the text strangely harsh. I nodded, and my hands froze when they brushed the bags. I had handed out a few of them, but a good handful remained. The color had no doubt drained from my face.

"What's the matter, son?" The officer insisted, putting a forceful hand on my shoulder and pushing my into line.

I held out my hands to him.

"Mhmm. I had a feeling," he said.

"They're-" I stammered, shutting myself up before Officer Duquette could interrupt me. He stared at me for a bit. I knew nothing I could say would help my situation at that point. My hands were still extended, and he nodded curtly before cuffing me.

"You can walk over there and sit next to that car, or I can escort you," he said, his eyes daring me to try something else. I opted for the former option, with my gaze firmly fixed on the asphalt. When I noticed James and a few others in a similar position, I gave him a look of pure venom.

* * *
How I managed to sleep that night, I can only guess. I suppose what lingered in my bloodstream helped me banish the thought of what had just happened from my mind. Even so, dawn came quickly, and reality with it.

A very real hangover - the kind where your tongue feels as if it's coated in sandpaper and your head throbs - did nothing to distract me from the sun filtering in through the barred window or the stiffness of the neglected prison cot. I didn't bother looking up.

I knew where I was.

(© Tristan Reinmar and Watercress Studios)
Looking for something a bit more fantastic? Never fear, traveler. Stay awhile, and listen.
Sometimes, it was like music. The subtle whistling of the mountain wind mingled with the dissonant echoes of whatever lived in the valley below. For everything wrong with this place now, the grandeur and bustle of a once great Empire paled in comparison to the alien beauty that it now possessed. A tortured soundscape fitting for an equally tortured landscape.

Looking down at it now, anyone would've wondered if it ever really was a habitable place. Even from the high vantage point on the walls of Stonefall Keep, one would've expected to see something. But where the grand road to Wevern once supposedly existed, jagged and frozen stones jutted from the earth, their bases obscured by dark mist – a dark monument to the madness of the old Emperors.

Even for Nyphile, the loneliness was occasionally grating. Still, she wouldn't have joined the Order of Steel if she hadn't known what she was getting into. A life in the royal courts of Bloodwood simply wasn't for her, and she had opted out of it at a young age. She remembered being visited once by the head cook, – a kindly old woman whom she had befriended – and she mentioned that some human contact was necessary to maintain sanity. In those days, she would often spend long periods of time in her room, reading, exercising, and practicing fencing maneuvers. She had scoffed then, but now she realized the truth of those words.

When she had arrived on the snowbound doorstep of Winter's Watch at the age of sixteen, the captain in charge of recruiting had laughed at her request to join, saying that a 'delicate flower' such as her had no place in the Order of Steel. However, after her persistence, they let her inside, where that same captain tested her strength with a sword and found her to be surprisingly adept, winning a better part of her bouts against the more promising male recruits. Afterward, the priest of Alwin had given her the vows, and she had become an official sister of the Order of Steel.

Given her looks, and the fact that the Order of Steel was mostly a man's organization, Nyphile had expected to be objectified. The fact that she was very young upon joining didn't help this either. Even the Order of Steel's codes of conduct and honor couldn't obscure human nature. However, there was a group within the Order of Steel called the Daughters of Hestra that she found out about shortly after taking her vows. It was there that she had spent the latter part of her teenage years, made a few close friends, and even experienced her first real lover (incidentally, where she had also discovered that she preferred women).

A gentle hand on her shoulder roused Nyphile from her introspective trance. Turning to face it's owner, she smiled upon seeing Lyraselle, her closest companion from the Daughters of Hestra. But today, Lyraselle responded with a frown.

“Is something wrong?” Nyphile asked, stepping away from her position leaning against a battlement.

“I've been called away. One of the priests was able to divine a disturbance in the Glass Tower,” Lyraselle said, unable to meet Nyphile's gaze. Her red hair partially obscured her eyes.

“A disturbance of what kind? What reason could they possibly have for-” Nyphile asked, silenced by a soft finger on her lips.

“Nyphile, always putting your mind above your superior's orders,” she said with a teasing smile.

Nyphile sighed and crossed her arms, causing her armor to clink as she shifted, “Alright, I understand. Still, I don't have to like it.”

Lyraselle nodded in agreement, removing the circlet of silver from her head and placing it delicately on Nyphile's. She responded with a raised brow and a slight gasp.

“You can't give me this, Lyra. Especially if you're going somewhere that you might need it,” she said.

“I need you to give it back to me when I return. That way I can come back to you, and the circlet. The Priestess of Hestra told me that you might be a better fit for it than I – you should go speak to her,” Lyraselle responded with a smile.

Despite these words, Nyphile was still less than enthused about the whole ordeal.

Lyraselle moved forward and kissed her, their lips caressing softly before she whispered, “...I'm sorry. I'll come back, I promise,”

“May Hestra guide your sword, Lyraselle,” Nyphile said, allowing herself a sad smile as Lyraselle walked away with a wave.
(© Tristan Reinmar )
Looking for a few lines in an elevated, Lovecraftian lexicon? I'd be elated to elaborate on the subject!

Here's a sample from my League of Legends fanfiction work, "Tangled in a Crimson Web":
Doing battle on the Fields of Justice left a feeling of disgust in the back of my throat. When it had been advertised to me, I believed it would be a place where I was free to unleash my bloodlust without chains. I had feigned allegiance to Noxus to gain entry. They had permitted it, but as with all champions, I had to share their mind. Revolting. They were human; beneath me.

I was glad to be free of such restraints, although it had sated my hunger for the moment being. Victory rang hollow - it was a trifling compensation. I had much grander designs: a meeting with Elise in the library of the Noxian Quarters. I arrived swiftly, not waiting to linger with the summoners and other champions afterward. It was tradition, but as a champion I was allied with last match had said frequently, “tradition is the corpse of wisdom.” I was inclined to agree.

My brisk walk took me swiftly to the library, where I was surprised to hear two female voices conversing. I recognized them both immediately. One was the spider queen, and the other… Morgana.

Perhaps Elise has brought a friend into our circle of confidence? I wondered. Morgana would be an excellent candidate. I had noticed the two conversing together earlier - and why not? They had more than a few things in common.

I strode forward, giving Elise a smile.

“Vlad. Wonderful to see you. Morgana believes she can assist us in finding a place to congregate,” she said.

I extended a hand toward the Fallen Angel in an effusive welcome,”I’m pleased to have you join us, Morgana. Please, elucidate.”

She shook my hand, although it took a few moments for her to weave her fingers around my claws. Her flesh was warm and giving, and her smile told me the sincerity of her desires.

Before she said anything, she separated one book from the stack on the table of the Institute. It was one of the oldest I had seen - perhaps the oldest in the library. In brass letters embedded in the leather, it read ‘The History of the Grand Institute of War’. Morgana deftly turned to a page, revealing a map of the Institute Grounds.

“Now. Geologically speaking, the Institute was built on a network of natural caverns. Some of these were formed and utilized for rooms…” she said, gesturing to a few that indeed had been. “Some of the storage rooms beneath the Noxian Quarters are an example of this. One of them contains a door to a room that began construction. We can see it here, in this map of the theoretical blueprint of the Institute. However, such a room does not appear in final blueprints, and I have seen the sealed door here. We couldn’t ask for a better location. The caveat remains…”

Morgana looked between us, appraising our reactions. I enjoyed the subtle smile lighting her purple-painted lips.

“That I don’t know what exists beyond the door. It could be a partially constructed room, it could be a massive cavern, it could be little more than an alcove. Regardless, it’s worth investigation,” She concluded.
“Well. Shall we explore?” I asked, looking to Elise. I glanced around, but aside from the desk clerk sleepily leaning against a pile of books, there was no one else within the library - only meticulously organized tomes bound in everything from thick parchment to dragonhide. We departed with concurring nods, walking over the sable rug and into the gardens that encircled the library entrance. The illusion of teeming life exuded by the verdant decorations reminded me of the sensation I felt after I had drained someone. It was a pale shadow of that feeling, but… pleasurable nonetheless.

A few Noxian summoners greeted us with nods. Elise and Morgana acknowledged them, but I remained silent. We took a left, toward the living quarters. However, we then took the door opposite the entrance, intent on the storage room. The waning sun imparted little light for our journey, but the moon shone on us in its gibbous glory - it mingled ethereally with the haunting blue of the Institute’s hextech torches. I smiled.

The pathway to our location was decidedly less furnished. The storage rooms were dank, lit by a scarce hextech rod borne by the rough-hewn rock wall.

“Here,” Morgana indicated, leading us toward our destination. This room seemed entirely un-utilized for the moment, storing only dust. In one tenebrous corner of the room, she indicated our goal. The thin line of an arch was visible.

“Hmm,” I said, a manifestation of my concern. A rusted padlock prevented our advance. However, I had dealt with more than a few of these in my time. I held it, issuing forth blood from my hand. The sanguine fluid found all of the pins within the mechanism. Normally, aligning the pins would mean that the lock opened. Unfortunately, the device had so oxidized that I had to wrest it from its place. I grunted and heaved, eventually pulling it free. It clattered to the floor.

“Now, the moment of truth,” Elise said as I opened the door. The primeval breath of the cave swept inward, causing the fringes of my coat to billow.

The darkness of the portal ahead was daunting, so I seized the hextech rod from the wall and walked inward. After my eyes widened in reverence and awe, I smiled.
(© Tristan Reinmar )
For more examples of my writing, please consult my website (follow the link in my signature).

I look forward to hearing from you soon. Hopefully we can build long-lasting and productive partnerships! Feel free to send me a PM. Despite my affinity for vampires, I don't bite~.

Re: Freelance Writer/Editor/Proofreader Seeking Work! [OPEN]

Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2016 6:07 pm
by Nephalos
I've updated my pricing information and added more relevant samples!