Avatar of Arcanaut
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    1. Arcanaut 10 yrs ago

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3 yrs ago
Current just got dumped, plenty of time to be here
6 likes
9 yrs ago
Won't be able to post much other than OOC stuff since I will be in NYC for some time

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I was going to be an emerald warden as I said in the original interest check, though if it turns out that it has been taken, I can just as easily make my character an Ivory Warden. And while we're at it, feel free to skip me during this round so you don't have to wait for me. It's not that I expect a super long delay (although maybe you should just because) but since I haven't even made an introductory post yet, it's like I'm not even here.
Yui looked between Roland and Lucania again, taking note of Lucania's empty glass-- and trouble expression-- she moved to top her off, and as she did so, she figured she ought to fill the silence.

She, for one, was incredibly uncomfortable with all this silence and introspection with strangers, nonsense. She didn't work well with all this mystical subtext-- Yui was a woman of numbers.

Yui giggled, "Waiit..." She gestured to Roland with the glass, spilling some green liquid onto the floor in the process. Fuck, she thought in brief, she was tipsy... She sighed, and focused on speaking without that damn slur, "I'm sorry, but what you just said bothers me..."

Excellent. Still, she could speak"Power isn't the same thing as strength. If it was there wouldn't be a soul on Dust or Ash that hated an Immortal. Power is something people can respect-- it can exist esoterically, theoretically, it's something intangible, like a concept, and so people can appreciate it. But strength is something physical. You can't ignore strength, and you'll know what it is when you see it, because it's a physical, tangible thing. Those without strength will fear it, that's human nature."

She put her glass down, "In fact, I'd go so far as to say it's a coincidence that people with power also tend to posses strength. Immortals have strength unimaginable to most people-- even themselves-- but, at the same time, I can count on one hand the Immortals in our world with any real power."

Roland put his drink to the side, resting his chin on his steepled fingers as he observed the Prime Minister's major domo. Well, if there's one way to understanded a fella, it's by the company they keep. I'd reckon it's about time I find out just who exactly this lil' lady is...understanded? I better lay off the hootch for a bit in case this all goes tits up...

"I do suppose that I am possessing of the proclivity of agreein' with ya miss Miller, but I think we'll run into a Wittgensteinian style limit o' language if we don't stop these concepts from flyin' too high; While I'm sure you could use this as a means of thinkin' circles round me and my sun-addled noggin' I'd rather learn from this than be left confused when I'm eventually thrown out of this lovely vehicle of yours. To begin with, we should probably determine the difference between strength and power- at least to the degree where our tongues don't get tied up every five seconds. So I think that for the purposes of this conversation, we should use 'power' for the word that we use when talking about the material things whether it's bullets by the drum, or having a limo full of immortals at your beck and call. I ask that we use this word instead of strength, on account of the word strong also being used as induring in the vernacular of the land, somethin' that I have a feelin' is already creepin' up in this discussion of ours. Does that sound fine to you?"

While he had tried to hide it, the wondering vagabond couldn't help but feel a thrill at the idea of having discourse with others. In the few and farbetween spots of civilization that Roland would frequent more often than not he'd be assaulted, let alone have a conversation about...whatever this conversation was about.

"Uhhuh..." Nui could only articulate the bare acknowledgment and nod along, she found herself too enamored inconsidering the full state of a man, particulalry this man. This man had, in the same sentence; used the term Wittgensteinian accurately, and then proceded to label himself as possesing a 'sun-addled noggin'.' The juxtaposition took a moment to process, no thanks to her now numbed cognitive processes, but she was able to recognize after an extra moment of analysis that she didn't completely agree with his defintion of power.

"I'm right on board with you, in that, if we're going to do anything besides argue linguistics we should have clear definitions for what we mean when we say 'power' or 'strength'-- but therin lies the whole argument, right? Unless I'm hearing what you said wrong, you only considered power being different than strength, which implies without such a consideration you'd see them as one and the same. Whereas I'm approaching it from an inherently dualistic perspective." Nui paused to take a breath.

"I don't think power can be defined that simply, nor do I trust a colloquial understanding of strength to fully sum up what it can be as well as what it represents. I might be thinking of it all in terms of presonal preference, but I do believe that practically, the two concepts are separate, and that one-- strength-- is more easily understood universally, it deals more in the realm of the physical, although I think even outside of that it relates to a fortitude of any kind... An example..." Nui glanced around with her eye before settling on Roland, or more accurately, Roland's body, "You! I don't think anyone here would hesitate to say that based off appearance alone, you are certainly much physically stronger than I am. And they'd be absolutely right to think so, you literally just survived an experience I could never have, especially with the same ease you did. I'm also sure there are areas, perhaps less physical, where I eclipse you instrength-- that tends to be how humans function,"

"But... are you more powerful than I am? Could you overpower me?" She let the question hang in the still air of the limo.

"There's something that relates power to the psyche and the abstract in human nature, I think. It doesn't just ask that you sum up all the various strengths available to you, but that you also know how to use those combined strengths-- that power-- and use them effectively and efficiently in a way that dominates my person completely." Fuck it, Nui thought. She picked back up her drink,

"To go back to your... um... purely metaphorical examples, I'd argue merely having a gun doesn't give one any power-- strength in a way, yes-- but a gun has absolutely no power unless one has people to use that gun on, or threaten with that gun. Power is psychological. That's why having a... as you put it... a 'limo full of Immortals at your beck and call--' W-well! Not mine, my employer's!-- but you get the point, don't you...? Having that resource, the power comes from the cerebral element of having the Immortals under your command, not only their strength."

"But isn't the gun and the immortal the same thing in this instance?" Roland queried. "You're refering to 'cerebral' elements of having an immortal under your command, but the way I see it, the difference between the two is putting the gun to the back of a person's head, or the front. Sure it has the possibility of deterence like what the old world did with nukes, but even if you aren't blowin' their brains out you've still neutralized or 'dominated' them; just without pulling the trigger." Roland shook his head. "No, I do not believe that has differentiated itself from power, though I believe we are getting closer to our end goal. No...I think we can do better than that."

"Yes, but you're not acknowledging..."

The voices of the gruff wasteland explorer and her shrill lover faded into the background, similar to the hollow horde fading, from individual shapes into a black line on the horizon.

Lucania's eyes returned to the passing landscape as the pair argued. For a woman who dealt with numbers and prided herself on perfering strict realism over theoretical abstractions, Nui certainly had a tendency to argue linguistics to absurdity. The difference between power and strength didn't matter to her, she knew she possesed both-- she'd let history decide what the proper name for it would be.

Her present concerns were as follows; finalizing the purchase of Dead-End, seeing Lucy again, continuing the Forsaken-Laguna Stalemate, ensuring Vladimira didn't wind up dead-- or perhaps worse, (primarily due to the fact that Andrei would put all his military might behind ending whomever had caused her death, secondarily because she did feel an attachment to her former bodyguard), procuring more military support from the abandoned Aqueon regions, ending the ongoing civil strife in Harlem, seeing Aiai again in Harlem.

Of mild interest to her was the hollow swarm, whom the limo was now traveling parallel to. She had wondered why the trip to Dead-End had taken this long, and apparently it as because Carmela... or perhaps Octavia...? She mildly wondered who was driving her limo, she mildy wondered if the Gaens had horses, she mildly wondered if this Roland Chambers could be of use to her... Lucania mildly wondered many things.

Why was this morning taking so long?

She began to hum. Quietly-- it wasn't the hum of someone annoyed trying to end a heated discussion between a wasteland scholar and the closest thing he may have had to an Old World contemporary in the form of Nui. She was bored with it, but she was glad they were talking about something. No, this was the hum of a musician, a singer with a well-practiced skill that had long gone of unused. This was the athelete's twitch of muscle memory, her voice only barely escaping into the no-longer-silent cab. A the very slight melody of lukewarm wandernce of the busy mind.

Lucania sighed internally, perhaps of mild relief as the black line that was the hollow swarm began to dissapear. They'd be in Dead-End soon enough now.

The hum returned.

Lucania mildly wondered what was on the radio..




"On the off chance any of you wasteland flowers were wondering, even if only mildly, what song we're gonna play next, here you go. A treat for a long day's journey only barely begun;"

Alright, then I'm going to need more time. I got the character sheet completed but I need to get different character art than what I have at the moment. Just know that I'm still in it.
Don't worry, I'm not dead, I'm just making sure that my post is up to snuff since this was posted in the advanced roleplay section. I will admit that it has been delayed, but rest assured there will be a post coming soon.
Before I post my character sheet, does the picture have to be from an anime? I'm hard pressed finding character art for a person who isn't a teenager or an ancient old man, let alone a middle aged person with a beard.
You're a madman. A madman! Count me in. I am well versed in Dragon Age's lore (aside from a few gaps in Dragon Age: Awakening) though I have to ask; Have the events of the game taken place or is this a separate blight as if the game and its protagonists don't exist? Also if you accept me, I'd like to reserve a spot for a 'Green Warden' Rogue, or whatever the proper term for a grass type warden would be.
Done, at last. Feel free to get your IC posts up.


So are you not going to post one for your character or are you waiting to build off of another persons? Either way is fine by me, it just seems a tad...unorthodox.
Alright, I was finally able to find some character art that was similar not only in tone to the setting but also was similar in style to Viktor Anotov's work.

Once we've got enough people in. I'm hoping to get around 10 people, and a healthy balance of guards, assassins, Chosen Ones etc.

Well we're already at about 9 people with the sisters, giving us a solid rotation of characters. I think with any more people it could cause stagnation with waiting for others to post- any new characters can be made up on the fly by us as needed so that we can still do things instead of the usual placid nature of roleplay forums and allow for some actual action to happen beyond offing faceless mooks that I'm sure will end up being shot, stabbed, poisoned and mauled as this goes on. Besides I think it would be best if an initial post gets out there so that people's interest won't die and we can see how you plan on approaching Dunwall without just tracing the steps of the game.


"Can he who was touched by the most profane of things ever truly find redemption?"


Name

Abraham Winters


Age

34


Height

6'3''


Weight

250 lbs


Role

Chosen One


Notoriety Level

(50% Medium Guard Alert)


Powers

Traversal, Bend Time, Dark Vision, Agility


Chosen Fate

(Undecided)


History

Abraham hails from the island of Tyvia but remembers very little of it as he was soon recruited for the Trials of Aptitude at a young age and would quickly become a stalwart example of an Overseer. Being adroit in blade and mind, and while not as fanatic of others, he followed the seven strictures with the utmost devotion; he was the epitome of what the Abbey represented. And so it was only natural that the iconoclast that is The Outsider would mark him. Rejecting the power given to him and not wanting to give the otherworldly abomination the satisfaction of killing himself, Abraham would spend the next few weeks drudging up any information he could find in destroying the bond he now had with the monster. In his haste to be rid of his affliction, Abraham had been sloppy covering his tracks and so his brothers believed him to be attempting to win The Outsider's favor, and so he is now on the run from the newly empowered Abbey- desperate to get rid of these strange new powers. But as he learns more about these new abilities that have been bestowed upon him, the less willing he may be to give them up...
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