@January I deliberately left out that part since I doubt it would be first thing (or even the last) Sander does in a desperate situation. I mean, when you got trapped in a burning building, what do you do? oh look at these cockroaches. welp, better eat them all. . I think I will just leave that ability as a hidden potential for Sander to possibily discover. I sincerely hope it wouldn't come to that tho.
Some people does eat cockroaches tho. From what they told me, those things taste like crab shells.
Added two more "Stickied Topics" to the bottom of the first OOC post.
Added rules on in-game romance (not sure where you guys are gonna find romance between the despair and the more despair we have planned, but hey, go for it--within the bounds of the rules) and communication for trickier powers.
You're clearly underestimating the lonely and desperate crowd of RPGuild if you think romance can't be shoehorned into this. No GM in the world can prevent that inevitability.
Pale white skin with large blue eyes, small pale lips, slightly narrow nose, and messy-spiky white hair. Very slim and a bit lanky in his build, and has a shoe size of 12. While not very muscular, is body is stilled toned and not flabby in most areas. He rarely smiles, often bearing a distant or annoyed expression.
He often wears a variety of winter clothing, particularly sweat pants and hoodies or other large jackets. However if prepared for combat he will resort to either wearing a loose jacket or no shirt at all with black, brown, or grey shorts.
At first glance, Chris is a quiet individual with seldom any desire to speak unless be it absolutely necessary. Often having a cynical view and serious tone. He is very cautious of getting close to people, keeping this persona of uninterested and rude demeanor to turn people away from him. He doesn't like to talk about himself in the slightest, and he has learned to be complacent with loneliness due to him adapting to keeping distance.
Even to those he warms up to, Chris's cynical nature doesn't change much. He will start making sarcastic or passive-aggressive comments of the like, he has no interest in lying about his opinion and will tell people directly on most subjects without caring if he offends them initially. A sort of, brutal-to-be-honest mentality, but even so he will refuse to talk about himself.
He's easily annoyed by people, especially overly positive and active attitudes or aggressive tones, whether someone insult him or compliment him, he's probably going to dislike them either way. Though he can be complacent to those that aren't to far in one side or the other, especially if he does warm up to their company.
He is afraid of loss, afraid of hurting others due to what he calls a 'curse'. His own powers make him afraid that he will turn into a monster. Not to mention that his transformations can be painful.
β π π€ π₯ π π£ πͺ :
He was founded in the ruins of a city devastated by a monster later killed by the military, the only survivor, and surrounded in flames that he surprisingly surprised, and left there as a child surrounded by corpses that he once knew. Since then, while he has been serving without question, he has been very reclusive on a social level.
π π π π π :
Dracomancy
He can breathe flames from his mouth, and grow armor-like reptilian scales on parts of his arms and chest. Through a painful and a bit lengthy of a transformation he can morph into a draconic creature for 2 hours, both transformations of turning into a dragon and turning back are extremely painful to him, not to mention it ruins its clothes, so he only resorts to this transformation as a last option or if enraged.
Committing to a transformation, Christopher will collapse onto the ground and rapidly transmute his body into a dragon. For the first minute the only changes are his skin being transmuted into scales, which would feel like getting your very flesh peeled off by a metallic knife. The following 30 seconds increase his muscle mass and changes his humanoid features into that of a beast, starting with the head, and at some points resembling a canine or werewolf, and the remaining 2 and a half minutes growing a tail and finalizing the form into what is seen below, all the while screaming in agony. [Approximately the size of a horse not including tail length]
π» π£ π π π :
Silence, tranquility. It was a bright sunny day, and he could feel the warmth of the sun grazing him. Before him stood the burning, mangled corpses of various obscene monstrosities, deceased at his wake, leading up to a dirt road that lead to a vast city. He saw kids playing in the streets ahead, their parents watching over them, people chatting, talking, living normal lives as if they were blissfully unaware of now deceased monsters, and Chris himself. He watched, as they continued to be happy with their lives, and he walked down, passing over or walking onto the dead creatures. As he came closer to the village, he saw a marble statue of an unknown creature, reptilian and winged, spewing flames on what appeared to be demonic apparitions, and a few people themselves looked to the statue in awe, some children were even hugging or pretending to be either the dragon itself or the demons falling before it. He couldn't help but smile, and just before he woke up, he felt something, or someone, hold his right hand. Before he could look, for a second he saw the statue come to life, animate itself with gleaming orbs for its eyes.
β π π π π₯ π π π£ π :
Flames were all around him, fires towering this way and that. What was once a forest was now a wasteland of heat and ash. The sky was dark with clouds, yet he wasn't harmed. He saw though corpses, corpses of burning people, he couldn't reckognize them, but he knew they were all human, some were mangled, others eaten. Then the earth started to shake in rhythm, several stomps preceding behind him, and when he turned, he saw the gleaming red orbs of a dragon's eyes, staring at him. Slowly the light from its eyes faded as its reptilian eyes showed Chris his reflection, uninjured though stained with blood, and in utter shock.
πΈ π¨ π π π π π π π :
Arbiter
πΈ π£ π π π π π π₯ π€ :
xxx
You have none, yet. You will get some as the story progresses. Keep track of them here. Some of them might be really important or something, I don't know.
Pale white skin with large blue eyes, small pale lips, slightly narrow nose, and messy-spiky white hair. Very slim and a bit lanky in his build, and has a shoe size of 12. While not very muscular, is body is stilled toned and not flabby in most areas. He rarely smiles, often bearing a distant or annoyed expression.
He often wears a variety of winter clothing, particularly sweat pants and hoodies or other large jackets. However if prepared for combat he will resort to either wearing a loose jacket or no shirt at all with black, brown, or grey shorts.
At first glance, Chris is a quiet individual with seldom any desire to speak unless be it absolutely necessary. Often having a cynical view and serious tone. He is very cautious of getting close to people, keeping this persona of uninterested and rude demeanor to turn people away from him. He doesn't like to talk about himself in the slightest, and he has learned to be complacent with loneliness due to him adapting to keeping distance.
Even to those he warms up to, Chris's cynical nature doesn't change much. He will start making sarcastic or passive-aggressive comments of the like, he has no interest in lying about his opinion and will tell people directly on most subjects without caring if he offends them initially. A sort of, brutal-to-be-honest mentality, but even so he will refuse to talk about himself.
He's easily annoyed by people, especially overly positive and active attitudes or aggressive tones, whether someone insult him or compliment him, he's probably going to dislike them either way. Though he can be complacent to those that aren't to far in one side or the other, especially if he does warm up to their company.
He is afraid of loss, afraid of hurting others due to what he calls a 'curse'. His own powers make him afraid that he will turn into a monster. Not to mention that his transformations can be painful.
β π π€ π₯ π π£ πͺ :
He was founded in the ruins of a city devastated by a monster later killed by the military, the only survivor, and surrounded in flames that he surprisingly survived, and left there as a child surrounded by corpses that he once knew. Since then, while he has been serving without question, he has been very reclusive on a social level.
π π π π π :
Dracomancy
He can breathe flames from his mouth, and grow armor-like reptilian scales on parts of his arms and chest. Through a painful and a bit lengthy of a transformation he can morph into a draconic creature for 2 hours, both transformations of turning into a dragon and turning back are extremely painful to him, not to mention it ruins its clothes, so he only resorts to this transformation as a last option or if enraged.
Committing to a transformation, Christopher will collapse onto the ground and rapidly transmute his body into a dragon. For the first minute the only changes are his skin being transmuted into scales, which would feel like getting your very flesh peeled off by a metallic knife. The following 30 seconds increase his muscle mass and changes his humanoid features into that of a beast, starting with the head, and at some points resembling a canine or werewolf, and the remaining 2 and a half minutes growing a tail and finalizing the form into what is seen below, all the while screaming in agony.
[Approximately the size of a horse not including tail length]
π» π£ π π π :
Silence, tranquility. It was a bright sunny day, and he could feel the warmth of the sun grazing him. Before him stood the burning, mangled corpses of various obscene monstrosities, deceased at his wake, leading up to a dirt road that lead to a vast city. He saw kids playing in the streets ahead, their parents watching over them, people chatting, talking, living normal lives as if they were blissfully unaware of now deceased monsters, and Chris himself. He watched, as they continued to be happy with their lives, and he walked down, passing over or walking onto the dead creatures. As he came closer to the village, he saw a marble statue of an unknown creature, reptilian and winged, spewing flames on what appeared to be demonic apparitions, and a few people themselves looked to the statue in awe, some children were even hugging or pretending to be either the dragon itself or the demons falling before it. He couldn't help but smile, and just before he woke up, he felt something, or someone, hold his right hand. Before he could look, for a second he saw the statue come to life, animate itself with gleaming orbs for its eyes.
β π π π π₯ π π π£ π :
Flames were all around him, fires towering this way and that. What was once a forest was now a wasteland of heat and ash. The sky was dark with clouds, yet he wasn't harmed. He saw though corpses, corpses of burning people, he couldn't reckognize them, but he knew they were all human, some were mangled, others eaten. Then the earth started to shake in rhythm, several stomps preceding behind him, and when he turned, he saw the gleaming red orbs of a dragon's eyes, staring at him. Slowly the light from its eyes faded as its reptilian eyes showed Chris his reflection, uninjured though stained with blood, and in utter shock.
πΈ π¨ π π π π π π π :
Arbiter
πΈ π£ π π π π π π₯ π€ :
xxx
You have none, yet. You will get some as the story progresses. Keep track of them here. Some of them might be really important or something, I don't know.
Thank you for the changes. I've fixed up some of the indents and resized the massive image so it wouldn't break screens if someone opened your hider. I've included the code on PasteBin because the [code] tag here seems to break a lot of links in general if they're too long.
Feel free to copypaste that into the character tab.
@January "I'll work on my CS after I finish your banner," I said, not realizing that three days later I still haven't had a chance to sit my ass down and actually work on this banner. (/loud screaming)
Kusari is a tall young woman, with a frail, thin body. Some are reminded of the Dreamcatcher when they see her, though she has yet to hear that from anyone herself. Her skin is pale, looking as if it were powdered to mimic porcelain. Her hair is ghostly white, almost transparent, and it runs down all the way to her hips. A side fringe hides her right eye along with the blue streak that marks her as an arbiter. A single braid is styled on the left side of her face, hanging just past her left temple. Her eyes are deep crimson red, and framed by thick white lashes. Her eyes are narrow, this along with her hawkish facial features give her an imposing visage. Her voice is low, yet bold, betraying the ethereal image one may have of her at first.
Kusari is grossly sardonic, and nearly always pessimistic. She frequently makes remarks that could only label her as a misanthrope under normal circumstances. Any bridge she has crossed in the past she strode leaving behind a trail of gasoline, inevitably lit aflame by the sparks cracking from her mouth. She might make some excuse for her behavior. Perhaps that she's just acting out, that she doesn't mean it, but that would be a lie. She always means what she says. The best thing one could say about the way she talks to people is that at least her language isn't vulgar... usually.
Oddly enough, aside from her mouth, Kusari is hardly a 'bad person.' She doesn't go out of her way to fight anyone, even if someone ends up wanting to throw hands after something she's said. She's a student with great grades and attendance, and has a clean record sans one particular incident. However, these things are merely a consequence of her living on auto-pilot, she doesn't know what else to do, and she hasn't bothered trying to find out.
β π π€ π₯ π π£ πͺ :
I don't know why my mother called them that day. Maybe she was growing tired of looking at the biggest mistake she'd ever made, maybe she was growing too paranoid that someone else would do it. Or maybe the growls of her empty stomach whispered into her ears like a devil on her shoulder. Whatever the case, I still don't know, and I've forgotten how to care. I woke up to the sound of sirens that day, and of course I jumped out of my rickety bed and looked out the window, as I always did when I heard sirens. Usually they passed this run down apartment complex, but today that dreadful noise I feared stayed, like the buzzing of a hive hanging above me. They were here, the army, they were here for me. I called for my mother, first in stuttering hushed tones, then in panicked screams as the door began to be broken from it's hinges. But she wasn't home.
I ran to the window to the street below, and jumped out. I lived on the sixth floor of this building, but that didn't seem to cross my mind at the time, I just wanted to get away. I hit the ground as gracefully as rag doll, I could hear the bones in my body as they splintered apart. My right leg looked like something that would be covered in a mosaic if this were being filmed, and my left arm was bent in ways an arm shouldn't bend. Somehow, I managed to lift my bleeding head from the pavement and see that behind one of the army's armored vehicles, was my mother. I slowly got to my feet, ignoring the soldiers yelling at me not to move. I started to hobble towards my mother, frustration and tears in my eyes, I didn't know if I was moving to kill her or seek solace, my head was pretty banged up. My mother turned away from me and was led away by a solider, and I stopped. I think I understood fully then what she had done, I wasn't her daughter anymore, I was a monster. Of course, I'd always been a monster, hadn't I? What business did I have even questioning her choice?
A loud bang hit my ears, and I felt something pierce my chest, bringing with it an intense burning pain. I looked down and saw blood pouring from my chest. They had shot me in the heart. It hurt, and I ended up falling onto my back, yet somehow I didn't die. As more figures moved towards me I let out a derisive chuckle. I really was a heartless monster.
π π π π π : I Sing the Body Eldritch
Kusari's body is far from normal. She is able to rapidly regenerate wounds, and has near limitless endurance. There is no injury she can't recover from short of being obliterated, though she can be rendered immobilized or unconscious comparatively easily. The time it takes for a wound to heal can vary, a shallow cut will heal within a minute, but something drastic like losing a limb can take a week, unless she is able to reattach it. Losing vital organs is not lethal as somehow her ability compensates for whatever was lost until it fully recovers. This goes for everything, including her brain, though she will likely pass out if her brain is damaged heavily. While her body is healing, it is always surrounded in a dim light.
π» π£ π π π :
In my dream, I was everything. I was a saint, I was loved, I was worshiped. I saved countless lives across the planet using my powers for good. I inspired those around me, rousing them from despair into hope. The term 'subnatural' was quickly thrown away, and others like me were able to be called 'mages' by not just each other. What a simple dream it was, what a stupid, unrealistic, pathetic dream. Yet it was the one I chose. Maybe such a pathetic dream suits me just fine...
β π π π π₯ π π π£ π :
In my nightmare, I was nothing. My body was a formless mass of flesh. No eyes or ears, just the feeling of my body as it moved on it's own, devouring everything in it's path. There was nothing but a perverse pleasure as I ate, even when people came to destroy me I seemed to feast on their desperation and suffering. My body grew and grew as I ate, until there was nothing left, just me. I was alone, and longed for the taste of anything I could grasp, yet there was nothing. Well, there was one thing left to eat, the only thing left...
Please change the color of the header texts to match the color you'll be using in-game for spoken dialogue. Also, throw in the name of your magic somewhere in the magic section because banjo is insane. 8D I'll edit the CS template to include that little bit. Any name will do as long it somewhat describes your power.
On that note, I'm very pleased to have a character I can maim without worry, hehehe. Don't worry, nothing terrible, yet, but your character's "Limitless Redundancy" ability really stokes the fires of my sadistic heart.
As with all the more recent submissions, I'll let them sit in the OOC for a while in case peers want to point and scream over something (like how awesome it is to have a meat shield that'll almost never truly die?).
1x Thank
