A Lowly Wretch

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@World of Terra - This rp has caught my curiosity. I find the various available races along with the fantasy-esque Fallout scenario quite interesting.

Would a subgroup of Plantfolk, the mushroomfolk, be acceptable as a species for a character?

A Tale of Seven Children

@Loony - It's a shame that you're having technical troubles but thank you for keeping us apprised. I hope your laptop turns out alright. Do let us know when you get confirmation on the state of your computer. While we are certainly happy to have you join we will understand if such issues might prevent you from participating for an extended period of time thus creating the need to fill the slot in your absence.

All in all, best of luck Loony.

A Tale of Seven Children

@Goliah - There are a few reasons as to the delay. While it is true that we are waiting for the last of the seven children to be submitted we are also waiting as Kuro is currently on hiatus while he deals with personal matters. Sadly we cannot move forward until both matters are resolved but neither should take long to see through. I have a positive outlook on the IC posts beginning before long.

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

Omnivore

She sat like a good, patient little killing machine. They talked their talk, job within a job, Money, yadda yadda yadda. Nothing they said answered the question as to why this all couldn't of taken place over a group chat or phone lobby.

Their little spiel was cut short for the moment when a guy barged in. Another assassin, presumably, and he seemed to have beef with the silly man in the red clothes who posed a lot. Words were said, heads were taken and so forth. What was interesting however was that the silly man's movement barely registered on the capture. She let Omnivore take a moment to replay the footage and the motion was still blurred. Being able to slow down a waterfall to the point of being able to count each individual drop of water as it fell this was quite unusual. There was little organic about the attack, leaving only two remaining paths of logic to explore there. Either he's got some super fine cybernetics at work there or it's magic, that weird thing she's only heard rumors of since joining.

The beefy dark guy resumed talking, discussing them all getting ranked up and put into teams amongst other things. It sounded like she was getting some weird tag-alongs for her missions now which wasn't the most attractive sounding proposal in the world. Looking at the group they gathered none of them striked her as any good at scurrying through vents or across the ceiling. If anything they were barely passable distractions. He mentioned something about a third guy coming to join the two which prompted her to look down at the freshly killed corpse.

"Are you sure that wasn't the guy?" She pointed at the decapitated man leaking his cooling blood upon the bar floor. "He's kinda dead."

_
"Any questions before we go, boys and girls?"

After going over what they'd be charging for the big boy opened the room to questions. Oh boy did she have a few. Mildly shuffling across the bar top, careful not to disturb the edges of her disguise, she sat just out of Mr. Baigo's grasp. Leaning in just a bit she extended a hand out from under the tarp. With a metal claw on the cusp of being long enough to classify as a short sword she gently poked a fine hole in the side of his juice box, a tiny puncture right on the dot above the i. It was an unerringly precise poke yet executed with a particularly casual air. Only the kind of precision one could ask from a computer guided needle. After leaving her mark on his box, the container leaking very slightly through this new aperture, she retracted her claws which all gleamed like fine silver back below her ratty tarp.

"I have a few questions." She opened, probably having gotten his attention by this point. "Who the heck are any of those guys? If you moved our ranks, what's our rankings at now? Who are we killing? If another team is ahead of us do we kill them or wait for them to move up ranks? Is each team fighting each rank assassin together or is it still one on one? If a team member decides to be a jerk how much killing qualifies as overkill? Why couldn't this whole meeting take place on a secure chatroom? Even a lan network would of been cooler than this. You also had three messages in your voicemail. You won't believe who the second message is from! By the way if you're called Rutabaga does that make
you tuber? If so I'm so not gonna like your vids, that's a lame pun."

She breathlessly bombarded him with questions, easy enough for her to do since she doesn't really need to breath in a deliberate sense anymore. Her breathing was more of a continual flow which ran through a series of filters that seperated the oxygen from the molecules and stored it away to supply what little blood still kept the remaining organic sections alive. That was all not to mention the fact that her voice was generated through a speaker in the back of her mouth, producing nice clear sounding audio for the audiophiles who would hang on her every note if they knew it was a speaker talking and not a real girl.

She made sure to keep a fine eye on his every movement, studying him like a tiger studies it's prey. The same went for every other living soul in her presence. Death was for the unwary and she was not going to be caught unawares.

A Tale of Seven Children

@Goliah Looks good! I'm sure you know but just confirming publicly that he's clear to go up in the characters tab.

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

Ed & Id

Why couldn't life just be simple?

Just as it seemed his evening was going to go without interruption or incident in walked an important looking fellow, perhaps just a bit self important to that matter. It wasn't until his sister remarked on him that it clicked in.

"Omigosh! Is that Viceroy Varren?"

She exclaimed, sitting on the edge of the table with her hands up on her cheeks in pleasant surprise. He cast a lazy eye over and sure enough it was the guy himself. It didn't hurt that he literally introduced himself as Viceroy Nicola Varren.

Ed, not giving two halves of a crap about the new guest's importance, simply turned back to the can of garbage he was currently emptying into the garbage bag he was holding. He had foolishly ignored the mischievous gleam in her eyes when he turned his back on her. Something he was about to regret.

_
A pair of soft, dainty hands gave him a hearty shove forward. Not anticipating the sudden push he stumbled, falling foward with the can of garbage he was just emptying in hand. All the garbage that wasn't emptied into his bag yet spilt onto him as he landed face first into the can he was just holding.

The pain of landing upon a metal receptical quickly gave way to the both sudden and keen realization that he had drawn way more attention than he ever would of wanted on him. He jerked up, eyes darting about to see exactly how much unwanted attention he had garnered.

"Ah crap."

His sharp exclamation of frustration gave way to a disgruntled grumble about halfway through the swear. Doing his best to simply play it cool he went back to his task, gathering up the garbage which had spilled from the can onto his face and on the floor by hand since he didn't have any tools for this particular event.

Bloody people leaving gross junk in the meeting hall garbage instead of the hall cans. Who the hell only eats half a salad?

A Tale of Seven Children

@Goliah - Basically almost everything you need to know should be up on the first post in either the OOC or the Characters tab. A couple details to note is that the devil is already written up so anything involving him directly might need to be run by Kuro or myself. Secondly any of the seven children not already located there will likely find themselves winding up at the WDL HQ early on.

If you have any questions do feel free to ask any of the GMs/Co-GMs. We are always happy to answer any questions or concerns from our players.

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

Omnivore

"That includes you, too, Omnivore, You'll have to get to know these people sooner or later, it might as well be now."

"Aw, that's no fun!" With Baigo's phone suddenly switched to speakerphone a youthful voice bemoaned Person's request. Looking over the side of the ledge she could see a white haired fellow smash through the window into the building. Switching her vision over to infrared she took quick stock of all the probably still warm bodies awaiting inside. It was a fairly big crowd for a group of people she wasn't preying upon.

Pulling her tongue back in she swallowed the phone and took a quick dive off the side of the building.

Like her earlier landing her claws clicked against hard stone with a faint clickity clack, A very gentle drop for something weighing two hundred and fifty pounds. With minimal pause she went from the outside sidewalk to the bartop in a single leap, the heads of her tongues pinching the lower sides of her tarp and keeping them down so little else besides the faint gleam of silver edges could be spotted beneath the flowing white cover. She skidded along the top of the bar, knocking over a couple people's drinks and leaving long score marks across the surface she landed upon.

_
On the bar she now sat, just within reach of Mr. Person. Her legs were up under the sheet, feet perched on the edge of the bar with her lengthy claws only just peaking out below. She was hunched forward a bit, holding the same edge of the bar with her hand claws.

"Heeey boss! How's it going? How you doing?"

From the point of view of the other patrons around some strange person dressed up in some sort of ghost costume just jumped in through the already broken window and was now sitting atop the bar, her costume draped over the bar top as she rocked her head from side to side, lavishing her attention mainly on the man with a box on his head. The tarp she had picked for her costume was quite long, cut down of course by herself to such length purposefully. While having long sides on the tarp kept over from seeing well below it, even in mid-leap, it also meant that the sides were prone towards getting dirty as they often dragged across the ground, picking up mud stains. Well, it wasn't all mud. Some of it just rhymed with mud.

Kenja no Isan

Thessir

"It's been 3 million years, what do you think happened to them?"

Thessir shrugged, putting his hands up in the air.

"I am but ah simple pehzzant. I doubt the, Mmeheheh, Zagezs care for th' wordz of ah loathzum critter like I."

Putting himself down he shrank from Aether, stepping aside to let the more *important people talk. The answer she gave was not satisfying but then again listening to what people said was the wrong way to learn anything. People often tell more in what they don't say over what they say when they talk. She seemed to have quite the story to tell just from the look of her.

_
“How exactly do I benefit becoming a Sage, subsequently associating myself with everyone here? Or-perhaps the better question, is how are you benefiting from an outcast, slave or anyone else here?”

Thessir looked out from the corner of his eye over at the elf fellow. The nyxian's smile was cheshire, his brow looking curious. His perhaps a better question was a better question indeed, much better than his first one in fact. Thessir immediately knew at least some of the potential benefits that would come with becoming a sage, the most immediately notable of which was the opportunity to score some more information dense spell books from this university she spoke of.

Yes, the real question was what were their hosts getting out of this arrangement? Thessir cradled his chin in the crook of his thumb and finger, taking a moment to mull it over as he really got to thinking about it.

"Why would zomebody need the zagez back, unlezz..."

He muttered to himself out loud, not going too far out of his way to be discrete about it.

"Aha!"

He took the hand he was just resting his chin in and gestured up, a single index finger raised.

"Eef the Zagezs are required then that muzt mean zome ancient evil eez rouzing!"

He cupped his hands over his mouth, stifling a giggle.

"-Oohoohoo~ Ewhat other threat of old could it be than the one and only? Iheheheheheh! A band of frezz meat to topple an unzurmountable enemy! Lucky are we indeed!"

It had to be the reason these unlucky few were chosen to become the sages. The only other reason that made sense to him was the possibility that she was going to reduce them all into mage goo for their sweet distilled essence.

Author's Note.

* Dumb.

A Tale of Seven Children

The bell tolls for thee.

The Plague Doctor

~ Physical Profile ~

Name: The Plague Doctor.
Physical Age: Unknown.
True Age: Unknown.
Gender: Male.
Race: Non-Human.
Subspecies: Reaper.
Description: None have seen under the garb for a very long time.
Any differences from your provided image/s: The colors of his clothing are a bit more faded, worn out even.

~ Psychological Profile ~

Personality:

Quiet, ominous and steadfast. He does his job, moving from site to site and performing his duties. Not much else can be said about him. Not much else is known.

Likes:

- Getting the job done.
- People who help him dig graves.

Dislikes:

- People who dig up the bodies he buries.
- Binding magic.

Strengths: Burying the dead. Knowing when death is nigh.
Fears: Unknown.
Hobbies: Unknown.
Secrets?: Unknown.
Outlook on life: Unknown.

Affiliation: Unknown.
Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral.

~ Combat Profile ~

Major Abilities: Unknown.

Minor Abilities:

- Phantom Gate.

He is able to vanish, teleporting to any location he knows at will.

- Kit of The Conjured.

Anytime he appears he summons forth his garb and his trusty shovel. Damage to his garb seems to last only until it is summoned once more.

- Death Watch.

An ability of rather ominous quality, The Plague Doctor can sense when death is a prominent possibility in the future. The closer he is to the site where the death is to take place the stronger this feeling grows. This sense extends for about a couple miles in radius.

Special Ability: Unknown.

Boundary: No.

Equipment:

His shovel is a potent magic item, nearly as legendary as himself. It's head can break all but the most powerful materials and magical items it strikes. A useful quality for digging. Also a useful quality for dispatching nuisances. It's essence is tied deeply to his own. The Plague Doctor and it are basically one and the same, for one is almost never without the other.

Aside from that his only other equipment is his garb.

Minor Skills: Digging, guiding souls to their afterlife, is surprisingly skilled in spear use.

~ Statistics ~

Willpower: EX
Faith: EX
Mana Capacity: B
Magickal Proficiency: D
Physical Competence: S

~ Faction Profile ~

Faction: Reapers.
Rank: A
Class: Soul Tender.
Title: Omen of Death.
Loyalty Level: 10/10 He serves his purpose.

~ Miscellaneous ~

Biography/History:

The Tale of The Plague Doctor is the only known evidence this mysterious figure even exists.

It begins in the early years of the black plague. A man had returned from war to his small village. He took up the recently developed craft of his late father, the resident doctor. In the man's absence the plague had spread to this village and to his father no less. When the man took up his father's mantle the mayor of the town approached him with a request. He asked that the victims of the plague be killed and buried so as to prevent risk that they'd spread the disease to those that still lived.

The man accepted the offer. He crafted for himself a garb which would protect himself from infection and went to work. Whenever a villager became sick with the plague he'd quietly enter their home and cut them down with the edge of his father's shovel. Afterwords he'd bury them, ensuring the bodies did not spread the disease further. Entire families met their end like this.

Of course there was no stopping it. One by one, person by person The Plague Doctor killed them without care for their pleas. They were sick. Soon the only two people left alive were him and the mayor. The mayor's plan to protect himself from sickness by having The Plague Doctor put the sickly to death had come to naught. He was sick with the plague.

The mayor begged to be spared but The Plague Doctor no longer could hear his words. With one deadly smash he caved the mayor's head in with the flat of the shovel's head. The mayor was buried in his deceased wife's own garden.

With that the only one left from that village that he needed to bury was himself. As he walked up to the tree up on the hill near his home he saw an open grave already made for him. When he approached that grave he saw a stone stairwell leading down into the depths of the earth. He walked down these steps the earth filled in behind him, burying him as he descended into his grave.

If everyone died though, then who witnessed this and told the tale? Apparently the bard who had spoken of this tale had heard it from a man who claimed to have heard it from another man who claimed he could speak to crows. The story thus had been considered as little more than a macabre work of fiction. After all, only a fool would listen to a tale from a man who'd speak to madmen that believed they could speak with birds, right?