Andreyich

Ember Grove - Reboot

Valentin

Valentin Florescu



Theme

---

》B a s i c s

Full name: Valentin Micail Florescu
Age: 36
Date of Birth: 4/1/84
Gender: Male
Where are you from?: Republic of Moldova

》A p p e a r a n c e

Height: approx. 195cm
Weight: approx. 90kg
Hair Color: Black
Hair Length: short, variable
Skin Color: light beige
Eye Color: blue
Tattoos, Piercings, etc skin markings: assorted scars

Your torn-out lungs will make glorious wings for the blood-eagle!

---

》R e l a t i o n s h i p s

Sexuality: Straight
Relationship Status: Single
Any pre-determined friends?: Josef of Makedon
Siblings' Status: Alive
Parents' Status: Alive
Pets: A cat named Ion
How open is your character to friends from 1 to 10?: 9
How open is your character to romance from 1 to 10?: 5

》I n t e r e s t s

Likes:
✡ Classical Music & (to a lesser degree) other arts
✡ Puzzles
✡ Healthy changes
✡ Learning and Teaching
✡ Wine
Dislikes:
✡ Most animals
✡ Anything he doesn't understand
✡ Being wrong
Hobbies:
✡ An assortment of instruments he plays
✡ Chess, rubic's cubes, and other logical/mathematical problems
✡ Models (trains, boats, planes, etc.)
Skills:
✡ Use & maintenance of firearms
✡ Mathematics, Logic, Computers & Algorithms
✡ History, theology, philosophy
✡ Supernatural Lore
✡ Languages (Romanian, French, English, German, Russian, Latin, Slavonic, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, Italian, Ukrainian, Sanskrit, Aramaic)

---

》P e r s o n a l i t y
Valentin's work and exterior belie his personality. In a sense he is the incarnation of the trope of a gentle giant. He is very polite, even shy at times, lectures being really the only setting he can perform in front of many people comfortably. The fellow helps old ladies cross the street and carries their groceries for them, while leaving bowls of milk for stray cats. Valentin also has a quite strict idea of life putting much value in honour, integrity, and duty. Anybody who gets into the way of the Hunter is an enemy of all that is good, and they must be dealt with in a non-civilian manner. The man has come to be very resistant to unexpected changes, preferring slow and steady transitions often leading him to take refuge in the past with books on history and such. The man also has a considerable violent side to him that is largely repressed when it isn't needed, but is truly horrifying when it comes to light; he makes sure to always make horrifying and gruesome examples of them to make even the most animal of werewolves and unholy of witches feel fear. His hatred for the eternal enemies of humanity leaves absolutely no room for mercy when he's on the hunt, a sort of berserk state entering the Hunter when he's on the job.

》H i s t o r y
Valentin was born into a mixed family in the Republic of Moldova, with most roots in Transylvanian Romania where he spent most of his childhood. His family were a fairly long line (about two centuries) of folk Clergy, police officers, and other people using their rustic knowledge against the many vampires locally as well as migrating werewolves and witches. To him, the sight of the supernatural was for a long time believed to be a childish figment of the imagination for a long time in his adolescence. This was not an unreasonable conclusion for him to come to, given he was in possession of a very strong imagination. Indeed he was noted as a very strange boy by most, a very big oaf talking to himself and spending most of his time with books rather than with other children — his parents suspected he had a condition of some sort, but they didn't want him diagnosed lest it destroy what little relations he had. Moving through his school years the marks of the boy were fairly good, and university was the direct path for him. It was in the fourth year of obtaining his higher education that all that past he saw of his father hunting the supernatural came back to him when news came of his uncle's death. The man was torn in half, and the lad's father needed his help. Going back to his home village Valentin was happy to oblige, but in the very orderly universe he imagined he was absolutely not prepared for the many revelations that came to him that day. They quite literally broke him, and it took quite some time including the cathartic killing of one of the culprits of the crime to put the pieces back together. With that, the previously entirely scientific education of the young man began to include many lectures taken on the humanities so that he could learn about the foe plaguing the world. This turned to a sort of obsession, the now fairly large young man doing everything in his power to avenge the fallen uncle knowing that many members of the cabal of the supernatural beings that killed his uncle were still alive and had to be hunted down.

It was some time after achieving his Doctorate that his hunt for the creatures took him back to his birthplace of Moldova. There he managed to cull a vampire, but his master fled to the Middle East to hide with non-state actors there. To have a chance at following them armed he joined the Evro Polis mercenary company, where he saw much combat against them. However, again he failed to catch their elusive leader who he now identified by name (or at least, moniker) as Archimedes. Archimedes fought his way to escape from the righteous effort of the Hunter, making his way to America. It once again took almost a year of investigation to track down the fellow, but track him down he did. Immigrating to the new world, Valentin searched the last known location of the bastard known as Ember Grove. He had to sustain himself while in the United States however, so he took two jobs; the day work of being a Professor at the local university (that would assist him in his task by giving much access to the libraries and intellectual circles there) and some contracts with Operation Humanity (which more directly aids his goal of finding his ultimate prey).

Everything's fine, calm down. I'll think of everything, trust me.

---

》G r o u p
Nominally independent but contracts on a near permanent basis with operation Humanity

》P r e f e r r e d W e a p on (s)
Subsonic firearms / bludgeons & blades / his fists.

》C o m b a t S k i l l s
✡ Uses firearms with particularly notable recoil control
✡ Great with his fists, legs, his head, Experienced with knives, hatchets and even swords to hack apart his enemies; a very good all round CQB basis
✡ Unbreakable will
✡ Very fast reactions
✡ Fairly stealthy in spite of his bulk

》E x p e r i m e n t?
N/A

》W e a k n e s s e s
✡ He deals very poorly with unexpected/unforeseen issues
✡ Not a particularly good socialite
✡ Perfectionist
✡ Violent, vengeful
✡ An almost childish difficulty admitting he is wrong and coming to compromise
✡ Not particularly creative

Ember Grove - Reboot

Valentin

Valentin Florescu



Theme

---

》B a s i c s

Full name: Valentin Micail Florescu
Age: 36
Date of Birth: 4/1/84
Gender: Male
Where are you from?: Republic of Moldova

》A p p e a r a n c e

Height: approx. 190cm
Weight: approx. 90kg
Hair Color: Black
Hair Length: short, variable
Skin Color: light beige
Eye Color: blue
Tattoos, Piercings, etc skin markings: assorted scars

Your torn-out lungs will make glorious wings for the blood-eagle!

---

》R e l a t i o n s h i p s

Sexuality: Straight
Relationship Status: Single
Any pre-determined friends?: N/A
Siblings' Status: Alive
Parents' Status: Alive
Pets: A cat named Ion
How open is your character to friends from 1 to 10?: 9
How open is your character to romance from 1 to 10?: 5

》I n t e r e s t s

Likes:
✡ Classical Music & (to a lesser degree) other arts
✡ Puzzles
✡ Healthy changes
✡ Learning and Teaching
✡ Wine
Dislikes:
✡ Most animals
✡ Anything he doesn't understand
✡ Being wrong
Hobbies:
✡ An assortment of instruments he plays
✡ Chess, rubic's cubes, and other logical/mathematical problems
✡ Models (trains, boats, planes, etc.)
Skills:
✡ Use & maintenance of firearms
✡ Mathematics, Logic, Computers & Algorithms
✡ History, theology, philosophy
✡ Supernatural Lore
✡ Languages (Romanian, French, English, German, Russian, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Arabic, Sanskrit, Aramaic)

---

》P e r s o n a l i t y
Valentin's work and exterior belie his personality. In a sense he is the incarnation of the trope of a gentle giant. He is very polite, even shy at times, lectures being really the only setting he can perform in front of many people comfortably. The fellow helps old ladies cross the street and carries their groceries for them, while leaving bowls of milk for stray cats. Valentin also has a quite strict idea of life putting much value in honour, integrity, and duty. Anybody who gets into the way of the Hunter is an enemy of all that is good, and they must be dealt with in a non-civilian manner. The man has come to be very resistant to unexpected changes, preferring slow and steady transitions often leading him to take refuge in the past with books on history and such. The man also has a considerable violent side to him that is largely repressed when it isn't needed, but is truly horrifying when it comes to light; he makes sure to always make horrifying and gruesome examples of them to make even the most animal of werewolves and unholy of witches feel fear. His hatred for the eternal enemies of humanity leaves absolutely no room for mercy when he's on the hunt, a sort of berserk state entering the Hunter when he's on the job.

》H i s t o r y
Valentin was born into a mixed family in the Republic of Moldova, with most roots in Transylvanian Romania where he spent most of his childhood. His family were a fairly long line (about two centuries) of folk Clergy, police officers, and other people using their rustic knowledge against the many vampires locally as well as migrating werewolves and witches. To him, the sight of the supernatural was for a long time believed to be a childish figment of the imagination for a long time in his adolescence. This was not an unreasonable conclusion for him to come to, given he was in possession of a very strong imagination. Indeed he was noted as a very strange boy by most, a very big oaf talking to himself and spending most of his time with books rather than with other children — his parents suspected he had a condition of some sort, but they didn't want him diagnosed lest it destroy what little relations he had. Moving through his school years the marks of the boy were fairly good, and university was the direct path for him. It was in the fourth year of obtaining his higher education that all that past he saw of his father hunting the supernatural came back to him when news came of his uncle's death. The man was torn in half, and the lad's father needed his help. Going back to his home village Valentin was happy to oblige, but in the very orderly universe he imagined he was absolutely not prepared for the many revelations that came to him that day. They quite literally broke him, and it took quite some time including the cathartic killing of one of the culprits of the crime to put the pieces back together. With that, the previously entirely scientific education of the young man began to include many lectures taken on the humanities so that he could learn about the foe plaguing the world. This turned to a sort of obsession, the now fairly large young man doing everything in his power to avenge the fallen uncle knowing that many members of the cabal of the supernatural beings that killed his uncle were still alive and had to be hunted down.

It was some time after achieving his Doctorate that his hunt for the creatures took him back to his birthplace of Moldova. There he managed to cull a vampire, but his master fled to the Middle East to hide with non-state actors there. To have a chance at following them armed he joined the Evro Polis mercenary company, where he saw much combat against them. However, again he failed to catch their elusive leader who he now identified by name (or at least, moniker) as Archimedes. Archimedes fought his way to escape from the righteous effort of the Hunter, making his way to America. It once again took almost a year of investigation to track down the fellow, but track him down he did. Immigrating to the new world, Valentin searched the last known location of the bastard known as Ember Grove. He had to sustain himself while in the United States however, so he took two jobs; the day work of being a Professor at the local university (that would assist him in his task by giving much access to the libraries and intellectual circles there) and some contracts with Operation Humanity (which more directly aids his goal of finding his ultimate prey).

Everything's fine, calm down. I'll think of everything, trust me.

---

》G r o u p
Nominally independent but contracts on a near permanent basis with operation Humanity

》P r e f e r r e d W e a p on (s)
Subsonic firearms / blades / his fists.

》C o m b a t S k i l l s
✡ Uses firearms with particularly notable recoil control
✡ Great with his fists, legs, his head, Experienced with knives, hatchets and even swords to hack apart his enemies; a very good all round CQB basis
✡ Unbreakable will
✡ Very fast reactions
✡ Fairly stealthy in spite of his bulk

》E x p e r i m e n t?
N/A

》W e a k n e s s e s
✡ He deals very poorly with unexpected/unforeseen issues
✡ Not a particularly good socialite
✡ Perfectionist
✡ Violent, vengeful
✡ An almost childish difficulty admitting he is wrong and coming to compromise
✡ Not particularly creative

Warhammer 40k: Enemy Without, Enemy Within - an 'Ecclesiarchal' RP [Mature][High Casual/Low Advanced]

Donning civilian clothing was far less of an ordeal for the Confessor, since in a sort of sense that was the exact thing that he was doing for the entirety of his career. The part of it that was a sort of deception however, did feel quite unnatural to him. The last time he lied a real lie was oh... some twenty years ago if he remembered correctly. A vile moment, it was nevertheless a learning experience. He nodded along in concurrence with Victorine, not wanting to say anything. Anything he would say now would still be a master oration, but he knew that after all the time together the Sisters would hear even the slightest of trembles in his voice and he could not risk making his comrades lose heart just because he had. All he could do for now was memorize the layout described by the soldier before following the Sisters to the flyer so they could bring righteous justice upon the foe.

---

As they descended, the Confessor tested the weight of his maul. He decided it would not be suitable for the tight confines of a building, when already in a ship's corridors it found some issues. But the knives he had hoarded earlier would most certainly be of use. He had brought along his shotgun and bolt pistol, but he had neither silencer nor subsonic munitions to properly use them as anything but a light resort when the subterfuge was discovered. In truth this was a weakness of the Ecclesiarchy and it's Sororitas. Yes, stealth was not a priority for the Sisters of battle but it should most certainly be an option for rare circumstances as these. Jumping down the Confessor didn't roll, instead simply softening his landing with a knee and palm. The doorway opened, and the confessor peeked out. His heart was beating quite rapidly right now he could feel it in his neck.

Looking back and then forwards, Horacio stayed at the very back of the formation with one of the knives he had brought along drawn with the intent of cutting some heretic fool. But... this all was simply not what the cleric was prepared for. He was far too old to be sneaking about, the foe would probably be alerted by the creaking of his bones long before the sounds of violence. Pausing, the Priest scratched some of his facial hair as conflicting thoughts overwhelmed his mind. "Perhaps... Perhaps I shall stay as rearguard here. Guard the escape should the forces of the heretics be greater than we expected and we need an urgent retreat here, I will be able to cover it. I... I do not believe I can go through with this as much more than a burden." Horacio confessed, more than a little ashamed of himself. "But if you need any aid simply holler a righteous word and I shall come at once with fire for the eternal enemy." the man continued on a more optimistic note.

StarCraft: New Beginning

Paul could only shrug at the ghost's observation. "When we were routed, when it all went to shit, this was the place I first ended up in. Hitched a ride with some bribed dominion boys when I got left behind and that was that. It's not pretty, but it's almost a second home to me now. Surely with you it wasn't too different. Maybe not here but I would bet for most people like us, when the war ended the first spot we came to was the one we stayed between jobs." Then again, Ghosts were a funny people compounded with the fact Ms. Ruby was a Terran one rather than the slick creeps from back home, and a Confederate one no less.

Looking on through the ships Paul wasn't particularly surprised at the suggestion provided, and almost felt ashamed he hadn't anticipated it from the woman. A wraith was… well it was a suggestion with former Ghost operative written all over it. The romance of a fighter, along with the stealth of it and smooth armaments oh it must have been irresistible. But the Lieutenant had to rear in this fantasy, shaking his head. "No, unless you think this system is good enough to stay for months then I think the fact a Wraith cannot carry much cargo and - more importantly - cannot warp jump between solar systems doesn't make it a good plan. Besides, it would be awfully cramped for the two of us." he joked, walking on.

Now, Paul wasn't psychic but his skills let him deceive many to believe he was. One was reading people, and he didn't particularly like the almost predatory gaze that Maya was giving the junkyard folk. But until she actually drew a weapon there wasn't anything he could do, and so he decided not to press the subject even if he reckoned it would at this point be suicidal to drop a few of the buggers. The officer's musings were interrupted by a somewhat overenthusiastic junker coming into vision.

"Top of the morning to ya! Well, it isn't really, but I'm Garrett and if you need any help browsing I'm here for you!"

Paul was about to tell him to piss off, but then he decided against it as realization dawned that indeed some help was needed. "Actually, Mr. Garrett, I could use some advice. Me and my… friend here need a small, cheap, discrete vessel, it should be warp-capable. Preferably fast, with some cargo space, and at least armed enough to shoot down feral scourges coming our way."

The local scratched his head momentarily, before smiling. "Aye there be such here!"

Annoyed at the undetailed response, Lieutenant Nordlund continued. "Good, can you point us to any? We have discounted the science vessels and gun cutters for now."

The man shrugged this time, gesturing for the duo to follow him. "We got a galleon here, but that doesn't quite fit discrete does it hehehe. There's a few wanderers, maybe just what you're looking for. Also some gutted Destroyers, a few more elderly Frigates and a Valkyrie here and there. A System Runner could be your poison."

The Lieutenant kept quiet for now, pondering the choices. The Wanderer seemed like the easy choice, but there was the old saying:" no pain, no gain." a system runner would be prudent especially for their little duo, but it had little resale value along with its armament meaning even wraiths were on equal footing in the arms race.

Turning to Maya, Paul shrugged. "I think we should go for one of the cut up destroyers. Sure for now it's just a deck, cargo bay and some small laser batteries. But it's enough to sell back eventually, and all the missing parts mean we can toy around with it, furnish it to be a real beauty all adding back to a final resale price. Thoughts?"

StarCraft: New Beginning

@Raynar
Sorry, I got bogged down with IRL and some meta-Drama and such, I woll be replying in some hours
More quickly I forgot to add you as co-GM to this

The Division | Mao Mao & Andreyich

---

HUDSON YARDS

Click. Click. Click. Click. Don knew for a fact he wasn't crazy. Having served he knew many a former brother in arms that lost it after a tour of duty and blew their brains out... or somebody else's if that was their fancy. But he knew he wasn't one of them. The former serviceman felt completely lucid, the flicking of his rifle's select-fire the only real oddity about him. This wasn't some sort of manic episode, this was the call of duty. He didn't remember getting those orders jammed into his head but that didn't matter. Everything around him and the more recent communication with command was a-posteriori proof that he was doing the right thing. It was easy for him really, just dig up the guns and then connect all his armour and gadgets to his carrier rig and backpack. It must have been quite different for more grounded people with families. Yeah, all the people selected for the Division would have had their loved ones know who they were with and would by now be used to them going off to fight. But this wasn't the ordinary serviceman experience. This was a threat at home, rather than overseas. Depending on how long all this shit went on, Don reckoned that this would sooner or later become a liability. Even the most devout of servicemen would have trouble fighting in these stone jungles with little to show for it when their very own families would almost certainly be under some sort of danger. For now there were far more pressing issues though.

For now Donald kept himself in civilian clothing, for now quite sure this was the right idea. Yes, it meant that hypothetical comrades might mistake him for a looter and marauder. But it also meant that he was beneath notice for many people. He had his M4 of course, but the plate carrier and all else was hidden beneath his clothes to make sure he wouldn't be a juicy target for the vast majority of this new world's ne'erdowells. Besides, his M4 was furnished to look like a rather simple civilian AR rather than the high end piece of military equipment that it was. If all the sent orders were right, they'd know it was him coming rather than some random scavenger and wouldn't blow his brains out. Approaching the building Badger put away his rifle and drew his pistol for the tight indoor confines. That said he kept the safety on for now, more or less confident that his fellow Agent would have cleared any threats that the building might have housed, it was simply that a bit of caution never hurt; better safe than sorry, the saying goes. As Donald cleared the rooms and walkways of the building he felt somewhat sickened. The place was ransacked, every single thing that was A) not too heavy to carry away and B) possible to pawn off for a few bucks was gone. As a sort of experiment he opened a cupboard, and he growled faintly as it seemed someone had even taken the stationery. He knew now wasn't the time to dwell on hatred for the scum of the world like some discount vigilante, he had a job to do. Sighing he made his way over to Firefly, nodding respectfully to his counterpart. Don went through the same routine his counterpart had, introducing himself meanwhile. "Its good to see you Agent. I'm Badger. Ready to move?"

ꇙ ꒤ ꋊ ꋪ ꒤ ꋊ ꋊ ꏂ ꋪ ꇙ

S a n d o
E v e n i n g

---

Hawke, and all the others who paid August a gaze wouldn’t get the chance to see him return it but they would certainly feel it. A deep, ceaseless stare to the depths of one’s soul. Regardless, beyond dissuading prying eyes the Knight knew that there were actual, serious things being discussed. The two main options provided were to either be aboard a schooner, or to be riding one of the boga as a sort of vanguard. There was an exchange between the more experienced Sunrunners and the zitan was volunt-told that it would be on the schooner. It. Really he couldn’t stop himself from thinking of zitans as things, rather than people. If one used the plural “we” or spoke of themselves in the third person then really it is their own fault if they weren’t considered a person.

Well, he couldn’t argue with the logic of putting the creature on the schooner. Likewise, a dwarf seemed far better to stay on the defence and rearguard especially with his background in the engineers. The remark as they discussed the situation further humoured the stern warrior. August truly hadn’t dealt with many zitan in amicable situations before, and honestly hadn’t known one to be able to actually properly speak with any sign language beyond a gesture identical to the human wave of a fist. This one being literate was an exception, and both Hawke and Torvin spoke in a way that highlighted that. Turning his head to some noise which it seemed was the beginning of Asante speaking, an eyebrow was raised in the depths of the Paladin’s helmet as he spoke. Well, that was a plus one to the count of people who were going to be mounted rather than going on the schooner. Between the boy and the stuttering of the lassies the group certainly seemed to be lacking in experience. Of course, the dwarf and the fae were likely several times his age. But that didn’t necessarily mean they could compensate for the… kids. Then again, one shouldn’t be quick to judge a book by its cover a part of Augustus reasoned. After all, he wasn’t too different at their age and it wasn’t long before he was a Knight rather than just pretending to be one. However it also had to be said that the period of “it wasn’t long” was long enough that hundreds of youths like him were weeded out in the way that leaves you twelve feet under so long as you were marginally less lucky than he.

Looking side to side Agust gave a shrug that was the international sign of “why the fuck not”, before raising a palm in a combination of hailing and salute. “I may ride along on my horse, if we shan’t have to scale any walls.” The Knight stated, his words echoing within his helmet and yet not losing any volume or depth. Walking over he stroked the creature’s barded mane, the noise of the beast giving the slightest hint of a smile upon the human’s face. “But if we must, then I may ride the schooner. But I must ask a corollary question: when do we leave? When must we arrive?”

---

<sup>H e a l t h :
▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪
100%

E f f e c t s :
None (?)

W i t h :
Sunrunner party

N o t e s :
None</sup>

Where have Original RPs gone!? [Death of Originality]

Just outta curiousity, but are academy RPs, fantasy adventure RPs, and all that sorta stuff considered original? Or are they fandom offshoots/AUs/whatever of, say, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings?

@ERode

Every single story is unoriginal; a ripoff from what the Vedic sages foretold.

Where have Original RPs gone!? [Death of Originality]

<Snipped quote by Andreyich>

I am tho...?

@DeadDrop

not sufficiently, since you made this thread.

Also sithposting is pretty ebin well done lads