Tears of Satan

Europe is in a state of everlasting tumult. Constant wars between its kingdoms, diseases ravaging the lands, the technology of foreign lands outpacing them by the day. As if that had not been enough, demons have now risen. Satan has gathered enough power to manifest himself in the physical world, and has now unleashed his servants to wreak havoc among humans that can only cling to survival. Until communication was established between his dark kingdom and the others.

The Lambs. Those who have paid the ultimate price for the ultimate power. Men and women who have sacrificed their souls to Satan to fight back against the onslaught from below. Those who have undergone the transformation to become a Lamb have their own reasons for having sacrificed themselves, however, and there are whispers of the true nature of the demons... and the kingdom of Satan that grows ever stronger by the day...

--

Dark Kingdom: The kingdom of Satan that has manifested in the physical world after a surge of power, and continues to grow stronger every day. The closer to the Dark Kingdom, the stronger the demons. There are rumors that every new Lamb makes the kingdom grow stronger.

Lamb: Someone who has sold their soul to Satan in order to receive insurmountable power. This power is a reflection of their desires and psyche, and allows them to successfully slaughter the hordes of demons that now terrorize every man, woman, and child.

-They "transform" into Lambs at will, changing their appearance, and gaining weapons and armor beyond human understanding. These are capable of powerful feats of magic, making their wielders stronger than humans.

Kaito's face didn't show much emotion in response to being discredited, which must have been a surprise to the others. It was a perk developed as a result of working in a career devoted entirely to the solution of conflict. To Kaito, his displays of cowardliness from earlier were a far cry from his typical professional behavior, an outlier caused by being suddenly placed in danger.

"Hallucinations are a symptom of many conditions, and can cause many other effects on their own. This disconnect between the 'self' and our surroundings is typical." He let out a small sigh of frustration. "But what makes this different is that all of us are seeing the same things... which would be..." He struggled to find a way to conclude his hypothesis, letting his eyes flicker down towards his journals before thinking better of it. This was something a color-coded frequent issues notebook couldn't handle. "Hmm, situations where multiple people have shared the same delusion have existed. Much rarer than your typical case, but still within the bounds of reality."

The way he spoke, it was like he was ignoring the purple haired girl. It wasn't intentional, he had just subconsciously lumped her in with the rest of the strange occurrences in the forest. Her name being Ipharia only solidified her place in his mind as an additional obstacle in the way of the truth.

"...My name is Kaito," he said, resting his eyes on her with a sense of unease. It was hard to dissect someone's behavior when they were so legitimately naive.

He listened quietly as she explained her background. Despite having hoped for information that could have helped him make sense of everything, even someone like Kaito who didn't keep up to date with pop culture knew he hit a dead end as soon as the word cleric left her mouth.

"Divinity, spells, oath, goblins..." he muttered to himself, as if he were carefully checking off a list of ailments. "Pilgrimage... monsters." His lips pursed. Another, larger sigh escaped his mouth.

"We might actually be in another world."

welcome to my shitty signature stash

---

Octavio's small step backwards was almost a hop. A quartet of fingers tore the air in front of his nose.

"Projection. Three syllables." His eyes lolled as he confirmed it to be the right number. "They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but it's the weakest form of charm. Everyone has a distorted view of the people around them. Your job is to determine and pine for that, not exact similitude. Amateurs." One of the Lord Ru'Tevs swiped at him a second time, once again only missing by a hair.

At a distance was Lynx, observing the rest of the party recover from Tayla's incident the way humans observed primates. The two were approaching the lift at a relaxed pace, but the sudden conversation from her still caught him off-guard.

"Unwanted surly behavior from Octavio should not be a concern. He favors those of a tasteful persuasion."

The familiar turned his head towards the man, and was met with the sight of him critiquing the chameleons. Lynx regretted having spoken. It was so easy for onlookers to view Octavio as the gracious man entertaining a familiar's delusions, Lynx thought, when it was clearly the opposite. Perhaps one day they would cross paths with another psychotic deity, one that would have them swap bodies. The man was far more suited to the life of a feline. He was practically pawing at the metal bars.

"Weirdo. That would be an accurate term." Not that Lynx didn't understand colloquialisms. The familiar simply once lived in a library, and those were places where phrases such as 'curses!' or 'by the gods!' made their appearance more frequently than the four letter word Tayla nearly... graced the party with. Weirdo seemed more interesting than the others he'd heard of. Newer, and possibly more appropriate. An idea struck him. One that would not have occurred to him under normal circumstances.

"I want to know more of this world's... colorful language."

Shathouse LIVE: A Drag Queen Production

Carlton, Ohio, a rural and forgotten town in the middle of nowhere in the midwestern United States, a melting pot of fundamentalist christianity, illiteracy and billboards with strippers on them. Delve deep within its filthy entertainment venues and you'll find quite the interesting little drag bar, the town´s most famous. It's also the only one, but don't tell them that.

The Shathouse is a lot of things. It used to be an auto repair workshop, for one. Then it tried being a pancake house until their working conditions birthed an entire new norovirus. But right now? It's a sanctuary for the misfits and weirdos, a stage for the artistically inclined, and a place for alcoholics to get gimmick drinks that taste like ass. It's simultaneously a haven for those of a different inclination and a primary reason why politicians don't want them to be alive. Discussions about The Shathouse, however, must always inevitably mention the glitter encrusted and foul smelling elephant in the room: drag. The drag queens of The Shathouse are a colorful bunch of performers with several dozen criminal charges and Aquanet cans split between them, famed for their talent and poise. To join their ranks isn't easy though, as any possible drag queen must first pass the initiation ritual.

The ritual is a custom created by Travis Ingot, who runs The Shathouse and claims to have received a vision of it while on peyote in Cancun. It's just one of his many unorthodox beliefs that keep his employees on edge on the rare occasions he makes a public appearance.

You're a new performer in town and Travis has vaguely implied that you're worth his time. Be careful, as things aren't as easy as they seem. Carlton's neighbor, a pristine city full of urban yuppies, is fierce competition and leagues above anything it could ever reach. Between the heavy responsibility of elevating this shithole of a town's drag scene, navigating through the volatile world of relationships between drag queens, protesting against whatever new laws propose that setting you on fire be made legal, and putting tape where tape should never be, you have a hard career ahead of you.

Travis Ingot is the owner of the bar and has been for its entire four-decade lifespan, even when it was an auto repair store. He is a man whose motives and origins are shrouded in mystery, a man who refuses to speak more than he deems necessary and frequently disappears for long periods of time. He claims that the vision of a bar strongly came to him in a dream, that he knew the moment he received it it needed to be built and realized. A bar that would change the town entirely whether they wanted it or not, through the power of art, craft store glitter and raunchy pop music.

Intended as a 1x1 for the most part.

In the ancient ages of the continent of Maln those with the power to warp human emotions were treated as terrestrial angels, and were commonly thought to be the descendants of celestial beings from another plane. The surge in positive emotions called forth by these miraculous beings gave way to an age of enlightenment, one where mankind was technologically advancing at a rapid rate, even outpacing the magic it depended so heavily on. The technology to travel across the sky no matter the distance was a beacon of hope to the once pathetic species of thin skinned apes. With a combination of knowledge over the astral and further advances, travel to even beyond their plane was emerging across the horizon.

Through the passage of time, however, Maln saw an increase in tensions within its kingdoms out of the competitive nature of being the first to take to the stars. The situation worsened as the continent was struck by a sudden and devastating vegetation ruining plague. With no one to blame for the worsening times, fingers were pointed at these jesters of gods. The folk who once entrusted the jesters with their problems now saw them as the origin and inflicted punishment mercilessly.

To be a jester is to be able to create happiness. A jester specializes in specific branches of emotional magic, all of which are useful to humans and their various rampages for power. They are frequently tortured and worked to death with the intention of wringing as much magic from them as possible. A jester is like a sieve of negative emotions, one that needs validation and love from its surroundings to purify itself and continue the cycle. A jester burdened with the ailments of hundreds and seen as a subhuman will absorb the filth of human hearts like a rag of scum and wither away painfully.

These endlessly repeating acts of cruelty have done little to hold back the onslaught of misery that has scarred the land beyond recognition. The plague that has wilted most of Maln’s crops has caused a chain reaction resulting in the massive deaths of animals and mankind. Remaining kingdoms that have been reduced to shadows of their former selves engage in paranoid skirmishes with one another. Disgusting creatures that once took shelter from mankind now roam the lands laying waste to anything within their reach. And on top of it all, the jesters have begun to receive strange signals from entities not of this world. A voice pulsating from their heart, one telling them to “return”.

The continent of Maln as it currently stands is a wasteland of death and decay, one where nothing can thrive. Most of the technology that had been perfected over the course of centuries has now been forgotten and abandoned in its entirety, never to be recovered again. Magic has also declined, with most of its techniques and sects that have been refined over generations having been lost along with a large amount of civilization. Modern magicians are restricted to a sparse amount of offensive spells.

The story will center on a group of jesters who have received a sudden and inexplicable urge to break free from the shackles that bind them, with perhaps even the occasional human that strongly wishes to assist them in their journey.

---

Octavio flexed the fingers of his hand. “What, don’t tell me you fell for such low-grade tricks of mine.” With an unnecessary snap of his fingers a white sheen blanketed his cornea. “Our magic’s smothered, not extinguished, and there’s a lot you can do with the smoke.” The illusion centered on such a small part of his body dissipated with the words.

It was a relief to have Karina of all people stride in. Tayla seemed to be talented at stabbing things until they stopped breathing, his own talents more focused in the verbal arts, so Karina would make an excellent third to round out their extremes, not counting the familiars. She spoke with a different tone of voice, clearly affected by recent events. He couldn’t blame her. In mere moments a petition for help had turned into a fight for their lives.

“Walking in the dark, having the numbers unfavorably against us…” he sighed at Karina’s words. “Just once I’d love for us to be the ones orchestrating the cheap shots first.”

He wiped his knife clean with a bedsheet, no longer interested in its original purpose. Regroup, fight back. She definitely had a military background. “I can improvise the odd parlor trick here or there, but the magic I’m running on is quite tragically as suppressed as everybody else’s. The silver lining is I can reuse the little eye stunt since the ones it worked on are dead.” A dry smile cracked his face. “Like telling the same joke to a different group of friends! You can count on me in that sense, most definitely!”

Another member joined their group, albeit with far less manners. She seemed to consider herself a “good” person, her words painting her as someone attempting to save them. But there was an undercurrent present. One he’d noted with Svephraey and just about every other power-hungry lunatic they’d encountered. Her casual use of the term “pactmaker”, her blasé consideration of just killing them all. Still, at least she was direct about it. Octavio broke into a jog as she left, along with the rest of their ragtag group.

“I suppose we don’t have much of a choice.”

Karina volleyed her own questions first. Her ship of thought was scrutinizing, far-reaching.

“She mentioned shattering it by killing us, to be precise. That leaves us with the unfortunate implication that death is our only way out of this little mess.” He shook his head, then added his own question into the mix. “This escape of yours would be far simpler had you already freed us of these devices. When do you intend to do that, exactly?” The words came out sweet, but their edge wasn’t hidden.

The HokumPocus 1x1 broadcast

Hi! I'm HokumPocus, a roleplayer here on rpg. I've never really been one for 1x1 roleplays, seeing as the average post from this section of the website contains a minimum of fifteen equally reprehensible fetishes and a tendency to confuse rpg for a dating site. My tastes regarding roleplays is fairly standard, so I've been content in the past with just sticking to group affairs. However, I have also developed an urge to roleplay my more unconventional interests, hence this post.

If I had to describe my posting style I'd clock myself in as a fairly typical member of the casual section. I know all about the whole "speling annd grammer" thing the kids these days go crazy about, and hey, I even use fontmeme to decorate my sheets sometimes! I stay away from the free section because I think it limits the complexity of the characters you can create and the scenes that you can describe. As for advanced, I don't meddle too often there, since those roleplays are often themed around giant franchises that I don't really care enough about to research thoroughly. I'm definitely down to do one though! If it's something that I'm passionate about, of course.

Speaking of passion, here are my interests.

Comedy - This is my primary interest. I've never seen someone on this website do a mainly comedic roleplay. It always takes a backseat, no matter the genre or style. I've run comedic group roleplays in the past, but people commonly join without reading the fine print and make 100% serious characters without much omedic potential. I don't mind it that much, seeing as variety is the spice of life in group roleplays and watching people react to the stupid shit I throw their way is always fun. "Comedy" in this case is being used as an adjective. Combining comedy with any of my interests is a guaranteed way to make me love you.

Idols - I'm a fan of several different idol franchises, and have always wanted to write something related to idols out. Love Live!, the SideM branch of iDOLM@STER, and Bang Dream! are what I'm into nowadays. Our tastes don't have to overlap, seeing as we can make an original setting together in the spirit of friendship, yay!

Fantasy - I have a crippling craving for some lighthearted fantasy romping. My middle school addiction to gaming parody videos is like one of those diseases that never really leaves your bloodstream, and as such I really like the idea of a fantasy world that doesn´t take itself seriously.

----

The HokumPocus 1x1 broadcast

Hi! I'm HokumPocus, a roleplayer here on rpg. I've never really been one for 1x1 roleplays, seeing as the average post from this section of the website contains a minimum of fifteen equally reprehensible fetishes and a tendency to confuse rpg for a dating site. My tastes regarding roleplays is fairly standard, so I've been content in the past with just sticking to group affairs. However, I have also developed an urge to roleplay my more unconventional interests, hence this post.

If I had to describe my posting style I'd clock myself in as a fairly typical member of the casual section. I know all about the whole "speling annd grammer" thing the kids these days go crazy about, and hey, I even use fontmeme to decorate my sheets sometimes! I stay away from the free section because I think it limits the complexity of the characters you can create and the scenes that you can describe. As for advanced, I don't meddle too often there, since those roleplays are often themed around giant franchises that I don't really care enough about to research thoroughly. I'm definitely down to do one though! If it's something that I'm passionate about, of course.

I had originally planned on listing of various interests of mine that don´t quite align with what the average user of this website finds interesting, but at the end of the day what I want the most are anime idols. I´m a fan of Love Live, Bang Dream and The Idolm@ster: SideM, so there are a lot of different sources for me to pull inspiration from. An overlap in what franchises we like isn´t necessary, seeing as we could always just make our own setting. It says so in the title, but to reiterate, this would be completely and totally SFW.

"...I´m on a futuristic crisp white roof under an enormous and amazing blue sky. A woman dressed in casual worker clothing assigns me a quest while talking to me. Her uniform is futuristic and pristine but she still looks like a worker. She had dark skin and dreadlocks and was very happy. I had a dragon in my party. He was named Bramble and was a very metallic and shiny gold color. After this I enter a flat beautiful beach and across our island is another one, filled with dinosaurs. There are about 100, a plethora of colors and sizes. A scene plays when a carnotaurusesque dinosaur runs across to our section of the ocean and catches a fish that was in mid-leap close to me. They are rivals. I have a user interface but its never acknowledged whether it was a simulation or another world."

NEO ROAR ONLINE

Among the several virtual reality MMOs that have sprouted from the minds of the most technologically advanced game development studios its hard not to note NRO´s presence. Amidst the handful of fantasy and science fiction games, it´s a wild card that somehow manages to be both and neither depending on which incompetent and pissed off games journalist you´re speaking to. The fans are well aware of their existence as the odd one out, and maybe that´s why the community is considered to be one of the friendliest among virtual reality junkies.

NEO ROAR ONLINE, the game where you control and command dinosaurs ranging from historically accurate to completely fantastical. The game with an optimistic and bright world where science and and fully immersive dinosaur cockfighting can not only cross paths but meld perfectly. You no doubt have a strong reason to have devoted yourself to this title over whatever knight and space cadet adventures are being shoved down your throat by the press. And if not, well, you better. Because you´re stuck.

No one, or at least no one in your new world is aware of the reasons behind being unable to log out. The blame has been aimed at anything and everyone from the creators of the technology to the studio behind the game to even the game´s most prominent factions. Some of the NPCs have even developed a bit of a sentience to them, your beasts included. You are among the newest and last wave of players and find yourself without a faction or viable means of protection against the array of threats surrounding you. The community, as you´ve seen on internet forums and reddit posts, is incredibly mellow. But will the status quo remain now that the opportunity for escape has been shut off?

The technology

The virtual reality technology used to play NEO ROAR ONLINE is comparatively rudimentary compared to the kind shown in movies and television shows. It´s a set of gloves and a contraption for your head paired with a flat open space. Games developed using the gear, or 6 Eyes as its officially called, tend to be restricted to appearing in arcades, hobby stores and other public areas due to their costs. A hefty digital purchase is required in order to obtain an ID for a game and then access it from any 6 Eyes available. The system isn´t perfect, but it allows consumers to avoid spending thousands and developers to be able to push the limits on graphics and the like without being bogged down with domestic downgrades.

The world

The world of NEO ROAR ONLINE is one where humanity has successfully colonized two other planets and has left Earth as a playground for the wealthy to engage in limitless experimentation. While the technology involved may seem advanced to us, to the average citizen of its universe its nothing but the basics. Architecture and garments have a striking and crisp appearance distinguishable by the use of bright whites and modern aesthetics. The more gaming inclined have labeled it "futuristic noblebright" in looks. This does not necessarily apply to the rest of the world however. There are plenty of dangerous and cruel experiments taking place on the same planet, hidden under lush and man made jungles. You could definitely live comfortably on a sandy colored cabin by a pristine beach, but your yearning for the life of a dinosaur wrangler is what dragged you into this mess in the first place.

April eight started with a bang. America´s first ever idol academy had its gates swung open, with every one of its traditional buildings covered head to toe in streamers, posters and balloons. It was admittedly tacky for an academy aimed at mostly adults, but it was the good, earnest tacky. Or at least that´s what its director claimed.

“Little more to the left, little more, little more, that´s it.” Shouted a middle aged man. Anyone with access to the internet or a functioning pair of ears would be able to recognize him as White Lightning, one of the most renown musicians to ever exist. Anyone that didn´t however, would have probably seen him as some overweight man with a mop of gray hair and a beer in his hand. No one escapes getting older.

He was trudging along the academy and the patchy grass that was now littered in confetti and miscellaneous crafting supplies. Every now and then a student would enter and approach him, only to be gently let down with a slap on the back with the instruction to head on over to their auditorium, the second largest building in the academy. The building, much like the rest of the academy, was built in the style of colonial revival architecture, with a traditional American feel to it. It was one of three buildings, the largest containing the classrooms and offices and the other two being used for performances. One only had to walk in a straight line starting from the gate to end up in the auditorium.

“You´re supposed to be there in ten minutes, you know.” Snarked a woman in glasses at Bruce. She was irritated, but underneath her tired gaze was a warmth towards the man.

Bruce took a gulp of cheap beer and met her scolding head on.

“What, can´t I loosen my throat before a show anymore? We´re both not gettin´ any younger ya know.” She rolled her eyes. “Come on, have a sip.”

“If I want a sip, I´ll buy it myself. Now hurry up and get over there.”

The pair made their way over to the building, much like everybody else who had been shooed away from buying from the food stalls before the welcoming event even began.

2 A.M. DAYDREAM CORPS

You lucid dream. It's a weird hobby. Most people don't know what it is, and those that do think you're either on drugs or sexually depraved. Maybe you keep it to yourself, maybe you only tell close friends, maybe you don't even care. It's a way to entertain yourself in the barren midwestern town of Crosswell, either way.

Things were as dull as always until you started noticing that something was... off. There were similarities with your dreams and events that would unfold around you. They were subtle enough to brush off at first, that is, until a faceless man in formal clothing assaulted you.

Normally it wouldn't be that strange of a situation. Characters in a lucid dream can turn on their creators under the right circumstances. There was something disturbingly different this time, however. Your instincts told you that the man was an intruder, someone who didn't come from your thoughts. To make matters worse, you woke up in the morning with a bruise where he left the killing blow.

.

Welcome to Crosswell, a shell of its former self that refuses to die, no matter how many potholes or abandoned buildings get left for its residents to deal with. Near the beginning of a new school year you notice an ambiguous flier implying some sort of meeting about dreams. Your mind is full of questions, and it's not like you had anything better to do that friday.

'''

You lucid dream. It's a weird hobby. A lot of people don't know what it is, and those that do assume that you're either on drugs or sexually deprived. You might keep it to yourself, you might only tell close friends. Maybe you don't even care. Whatever the reason, it's something that you partake in. Over the course of a long time, you've noticed some similarities with the events of your dreams and the events of the world around you. They've never been direct enough to make you ever seriously consider it, and it's only been a passing thought that you entertain yourself with here and there. That was, until a faceless man in formal clothing assaulted you.

Normally it wouldn't be that strange of a situation. Characters in a lucid dream can turn on their creators under the right circumstances, and sleep paralysis is always a possibility. There was something disturbingly different this time, however. The way that he aggressively knocked you down and hurt you was both intensely cruel and out of your control. The following day you received an invitation for a social gathering at a public library in a sketchy part of town. It was mailed to you somehow, and reading the text next to the poorly edited drawing of a smiling book revealed that it was over dreams. Still thinking about the events that took place last night, it was clear that you needed answers.

---

Near the hustle and bustle of a large city, x stands out like a sore thumb among the luxurious and extravagant lifestyles of their neighbors. It's a small and sleepy town where the soft mornings last hours more than usual and bunches of lavender grow around its neglected buildings. A group of former government workers have defected from their secret research group to protect its inhabitants from the new wave of dangerous experiments that are scheduled to take place soon. Dreamers with the power to change reality must now band together and fight for survival, all while managing their daily lives without raising suspicion.