TheMushroomLord
Festive
Fetzen
Silly
Thunder999999
Yankee
Kero
Tlaloc
Andreyich
GubGarI have some interest, hoping to see this picks up more interest.
BayRat
Member
Oh No
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
Boring.
Most Recent Posts
Sorry for the late return in addition to college and being involved elsewhere I've decided to cut out the necromancer idea and working on a different idea, just letting you know I'm still interested in the RP and I'll get back to you on a new CS soon.
Sorry I'm dragging a bit behind, I'll get a post up soon.
Got my interest.
Chris's eyes widened from their passive scowl as he saw gunfire against his fellow prisoners. It was a brief matter of shock for him, and he turned back to see the shooter be executed on the spot. Slowly he readjusted himself, whatever accident had occured, the situation had already been dealt with. Its not that he wasn't completely desyntized, though he had expected brutal treatment and had watched a similar tragedy from before, but it was for that same trauma that he fought against such shock surface on his conscience. He kept his gaze away from the fallen comrades, fortunately he hadn't had the chance to know them, so it wasn't too difficult. Though the scene was a grim reminder of the cruel state of this world.
Chris didn't bother resisting, the terms seemed reasonable enough for him anyhow. Its not like he wanted to transform. His complacent and bored morphed into a scowl when he heard his name being roomed with two others. It wasn't very ideal, but he kept an open mind, or tried to, as him and the rest of the subnaturals were escorted to their buildings. He was a bit impressed with the Arbiter's building, granted, the security level of it was obvious enough. Still the modern design gave him the impression of something moderately luxorious to stay in.
Inside, he ignored his two roomates for the first moments as he picked up his ID card and the test, examining them both briefly. Afterward, he glanced back to his two roomates, briefly, just to get an idea of their existence, one of them waved to him, so he gave a passive, barely paying any care wave back, before returning his attention to his test. He would take a seat and took out a pen.
His bag of clothes, pretty much the only luggage he had, sat beside his desk as he steadily went through the stack of papers of tests he was assigned. He knew the basics of most of the subjects at hand, but as he had not been to a school before what little education he had was not advanced enough to answer most highschool level questions, what few he did were simple algebra equations and literature that his parents had hometaught him long ago, distant in memory.
For the answers he did not know, he just guessed for the hell of it and tried to apply some reasoning to them by trying to think of a natural equivalent scenario. Finishing the main exams he left the elective forms untouched as he decided to take a hot shower. He walked to the bathroom, still not paying much attention to his roommates He stripped from his garbs and turned on the water. As he lathered his body in some of the basic available bathing products there, namely soap and shampoo, his eyes looked to the shower curtain and became lost in thought. For long intervals he'd contemplate the destruction he survived, the cruelty of the military, and the 'students' who were shot hours before, of all things. He could feel a tear form from his left eye overlapping the hot water. With emotions starting to boil out from his facade, he instinctively slammed a clenched hand into the bathroom wall with his head lowered, making a somewhat audible thud and a ringing pain that helped distract him from the emotional torment.
Chris didn't bother resisting, the terms seemed reasonable enough for him anyhow. Its not like he wanted to transform. His complacent and bored morphed into a scowl when he heard his name being roomed with two others. It wasn't very ideal, but he kept an open mind, or tried to, as him and the rest of the subnaturals were escorted to their buildings. He was a bit impressed with the Arbiter's building, granted, the security level of it was obvious enough. Still the modern design gave him the impression of something moderately luxorious to stay in.
Inside, he ignored his two roomates for the first moments as he picked up his ID card and the test, examining them both briefly. Afterward, he glanced back to his two roomates, briefly, just to get an idea of their existence, one of them waved to him, so he gave a passive, barely paying any care wave back, before returning his attention to his test. He would take a seat and took out a pen.
His bag of clothes, pretty much the only luggage he had, sat beside his desk as he steadily went through the stack of papers of tests he was assigned. He knew the basics of most of the subjects at hand, but as he had not been to a school before what little education he had was not advanced enough to answer most highschool level questions, what few he did were simple algebra equations and literature that his parents had hometaught him long ago, distant in memory.
For the answers he did not know, he just guessed for the hell of it and tried to apply some reasoning to them by trying to think of a natural equivalent scenario. Finishing the main exams he left the elective forms untouched as he decided to take a hot shower. He walked to the bathroom, still not paying much attention to his roommates He stripped from his garbs and turned on the water. As he lathered his body in some of the basic available bathing products there, namely soap and shampoo, his eyes looked to the shower curtain and became lost in thought. For long intervals he'd contemplate the destruction he survived, the cruelty of the military, and the 'students' who were shot hours before, of all things. He could feel a tear form from his left eye overlapping the hot water. With emotions starting to boil out from his facade, he instinctively slammed a clenched hand into the bathroom wall with his head lowered, making a somewhat audible thud and a ringing pain that helped distract him from the emotional torment.
Oh...well, looks like I posted a bit too late huh. Oh well. I won't mind waiting for when the rp comes back up.
The Wrathful Sun Prince!
@wxps350@Baklava
The flames immediately stopped flowing from its maw once the witch wrapped around its jaws. "W-wh-Get off of my arm!" I yelled in frustration as I tried to violently shake her up. "Are you dense in the head?!" The dragon head would be closed with narrowed golden eyes. Trying to shake her off he would fly back to the rooftop, and transforming his arm back to normal, still flailing it rapidly. His crimson eyes glowed with moonlight, and the wind would catch some of his hair as he glared at her in frustrated rage.
His eyes fixed to the other prince that was being swarmed by the shadows. He sighed briefly as his other arm transformed into a similar dragon head, opening its scaly maw to release a jet of flames towards both the prince and the six shadows, not caring who'd he hit, though it likely would have spread to both him and the ensuing shadows.
He looked back at the witch with narrowed eyes, "So your fireproof too huh?" He scowled in annoyance, not really expecting, nor caring for her to answer. His other arm shrank and morphed from a dragon's head to a normal arm and hand, flexing his fingers a bit once it was back to normal.
Enter the Dragon
Since the warm summer sun rose once again, Jackal, the sole survivor of his tribe, once again moved across the earth. His travels have met him with feeble work with those willing to communicate with his monstrous form. It didn't take long for him to learn of the fear his mere presence brings among those of other races, especially with the rise of these monster attacks.
His large feet would make an audible thud with each step, moving in a casual matter. His large, hand crafted sword and held in his right hand, rested on his shoulder. The small chest he had on his back ringed with coins moving about within due to his movements. His reptilian eyes caught sight of the town ahead, wooden structures and he could make out a wide arrange of civilian activity. He continued, hopeful that his presence would result in work instead of conflict. As he drew closer, he noticed another strange humanoid figure, a species he had no recognized, confronted with weapons pointed at her. Within sight now, and his somewhat loud footsteps, the nearby civilians averted their gaze from the strange woman to the monstrous reptile that was about to interrupt.
Jackal approached, calmly, and steadily, towering over the both of them as he stepped from behind her and in between her and the men. "Pardon me." He spoke as he leaned his torso forward, curving his neck and head towards viewing all of the strangers within this confrontation. "Is there a problem?" His voice was strange, it had an orcish cadence to it, yet with a calm demeanor, and a voice that seemed to flicker gently with certain syllables like the cracking of a burning flame. His sword dropped from his shoulder and to the dirt path next to him, the blade was almost as big as the creature wielding it, big enough to be taller then any of the mammals present.
His large feet would make an audible thud with each step, moving in a casual matter. His large, hand crafted sword and held in his right hand, rested on his shoulder. The small chest he had on his back ringed with coins moving about within due to his movements. His reptilian eyes caught sight of the town ahead, wooden structures and he could make out a wide arrange of civilian activity. He continued, hopeful that his presence would result in work instead of conflict. As he drew closer, he noticed another strange humanoid figure, a species he had no recognized, confronted with weapons pointed at her. Within sight now, and his somewhat loud footsteps, the nearby civilians averted their gaze from the strange woman to the monstrous reptile that was about to interrupt.
Jackal approached, calmly, and steadily, towering over the both of them as he stepped from behind her and in between her and the men. "Pardon me." He spoke as he leaned his torso forward, curving his neck and head towards viewing all of the strangers within this confrontation. "Is there a problem?" His voice was strange, it had an orcish cadence to it, yet with a calm demeanor, and a voice that seemed to flicker gently with certain syllables like the cracking of a burning flame. His sword dropped from his shoulder and to the dirt path next to him, the blade was almost as big as the creature wielding it, big enough to be taller then any of the mammals present.
@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Mag Lev
In
PRIES - Paranormal Dark Fantasy RP [Interest & Recruit Thread]
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
mistake)
In
PRIES - Paranormal Dark Fantasy RP [Interest & Recruit Thread]
→
8 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@Holy Soldier
Name: Jason Faye
Nickname: N/A
Age: N/A
Race: Warlock Necromancer
Height: 5'11
Weight: 180 lbs
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Description: Pale white skin, messy sheet of hair, and an overall slim build, barely muscular. His lips are small and pale, nose slightly narrowed, chin a bit angular as well with a melancholy and otherwise soft face.
He will typical wear his semi formal suit with a short sleeved white shirt and black vest and trousers. Nothing very remarkable for footwear either, just your typical black shoes.
Visual:
Personality:
Jason has long been a rather stoic, melancholy figure from his acceptance of his existence and when he was liberated of the cultist practices. He masks his moody and crushed spirit with light comments, sarcasm, and grim humor. He is easy to talk to on simple matter, and there are few supernatural things in this world that could truly surprise him, but when pressed with more, serious or deeper conversing, he will grow more distant, and try to end the conversation all the while answering questions as vaguely as he can. He doesn't like to be a bother about his pain, and he sees helping humanity from the supernatural and occult is the best way to atone for his crimes as a cultist and to spend his eternity.
He can be a bit standoffish and even irritated in dire situations, only taking things seriously if others are endangered, as he is not so much worried by his own well being. He isn't exactly fond of his powers or his curse either, so he has no qualms with the authorities frowning and outlawing his practice. In his judgement, the best way to take away his eternal pain is through drinking and smoking.
His past life as an outlaw of the west influences his persona to this day. Sometimes he still even has a similar dialect broken out in sentences. While he does abide to the authorities, he has his own way of dealing with criminal targets, dealing with things his own way whenever he can.
Background: Jason Faye was born in 1812, and had his first death at the age of 18, as it was at that time his fellow cultists determined he was ready to loose his humanity. For the next 20 years he worked as a cultist to Hecate before eventually escaping his forced servitude, taking the identity as an outlaw of the west for over half a century to help hide from his past. But his cult in pursuit it was difficult for him to stay and settle in one location, especially when the frontier era was finally ended.
When the syndicate became established, Jason approached them in the height of ww2. Explaining his blight, Jason proposed a method to seal his fellow necromancers to ensure that they cannot continue their wicked and sinful practices, also allowing his freedom. While the event of doing so was a very difficult scenario that almost cost the foundation their resources and agents, the necromancers were sealed away with magic imprisonment on eldritch abomination levels of security and power of the sealing.
For a while though, Jason went under the radar from the foundation, taking various identities in various cities across the globe. It wasn't until recently when he returned to the organization, offering his service and agreeing to the demands of barring his practice of necromancy in exchange, as well as being forbidden to disappear from the organization's watch. Returning to the world he brought with him a token of his adventures, Fenrir, his trusted partner.
Weapon(s):
S & W .357 magnum revolver in black; This gun is in supply of silver bullets and the barrel of the revolver is often lightly soaked in a flask of blessed holy water.
A Black combat knife with a blade lined with silver and has a pentagram inscribed in the left side of the blade.
Skills:
Occult investigator: Being a former cultist, Jason knows shady shit when he sees em. He will often have some knowledge on various cults and their basic goals if it is anything more then worshiping their deity. This also expands to eldritch horror-esq worships.
Marksman of the Wild West: With his past life being an outlaw, he has grown a good skill of using guns, revolvers in particular. Not only can he make very accurate shots but he can reload his revolver swift and efficiently.
Close Quarters Warlock: Aside from his gun, his other primary weapon is his knife, which he has modified to use as a catalyst for certain spells. Being involved in bar fights he can also be quiet brash with cheap shots.
Power(s):
Classification
Dragon
Drake Subgroup
Dracolupas
Size:
Height: 6 feet
Length: 23 feet
Weight: half a ton
Scales: Plated scales are as durable as steel, except for soft underbelly. Scales also can regrow over the course of 2 weeks when it sheds new scales.
Bite strength: It can bend metal with teeth and jaws.
Strength: Can dent an iron wall alone with a full sprint charge with its horns. A tail whip can be just as strong. Can potentially tackle down objects and/or creatures up to twice its own weight. Thick muscles are present and compact beneath its scaly hide.
Speed: Can sprint up to 35 mph for over 5 hours, and can carry half of its own weight without an issue.
Senses: 20/20 vision with a bio-illumination in its eyes that resemble a dim candle flame, allowing it to see in under darkness. It can smell as well as a trained bloodhound with its forked tongue. It has well enough hearing to discern its name when called, as well as the voice calling it.
Firepower: It can breath jets of flames from its maw at a range of 10 meters, at 6,000 °F. Additionally like other dragons it has an undefined heat resistance, essentially unaffected by the heat of even the most extreme temperatures such as molten rock or plasma.
Intelligence: Rivals that of a dog in terms of loyalty and obedience. While not sapient, it is able to recognize individuals, including its own reflection, and can solve simple problem solving skills.
Fenrir is loyal to Jason, who claims he hatched Fenrir from an egg. Dragons are extremely rare if not extinct creatures, including there various species such as Fenrir. It has reached its adult size, unlikely to grow much more.
Name: Jason Faye
Nickname: N/A
Age: N/A
Race: Warlock Necromancer
Height: 5'11
Weight: 180 lbs
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Eye Color: Blue
Description: Pale white skin, messy sheet of hair, and an overall slim build, barely muscular. His lips are small and pale, nose slightly narrowed, chin a bit angular as well with a melancholy and otherwise soft face.
He will typical wear his semi formal suit with a short sleeved white shirt and black vest and trousers. Nothing very remarkable for footwear either, just your typical black shoes.
Visual:
Personality:
"Its one thing to live forever, but to be trapped on this wretched world even in death...Well, you tend stop caring, if not loose your sanity." -Jason Faye
Jason has long been a rather stoic, melancholy figure from his acceptance of his existence and when he was liberated of the cultist practices. He masks his moody and crushed spirit with light comments, sarcasm, and grim humor. He is easy to talk to on simple matter, and there are few supernatural things in this world that could truly surprise him, but when pressed with more, serious or deeper conversing, he will grow more distant, and try to end the conversation all the while answering questions as vaguely as he can. He doesn't like to be a bother about his pain, and he sees helping humanity from the supernatural and occult is the best way to atone for his crimes as a cultist and to spend his eternity.
He can be a bit standoffish and even irritated in dire situations, only taking things seriously if others are endangered, as he is not so much worried by his own well being. He isn't exactly fond of his powers or his curse either, so he has no qualms with the authorities frowning and outlawing his practice. In his judgement, the best way to take away his eternal pain is through drinking and smoking.
His past life as an outlaw of the west influences his persona to this day. Sometimes he still even has a similar dialect broken out in sentences. While he does abide to the authorities, he has his own way of dealing with criminal targets, dealing with things his own way whenever he can.
Background: Jason Faye was born in 1812, and had his first death at the age of 18, as it was at that time his fellow cultists determined he was ready to loose his humanity. For the next 20 years he worked as a cultist to Hecate before eventually escaping his forced servitude, taking the identity as an outlaw of the west for over half a century to help hide from his past. But his cult in pursuit it was difficult for him to stay and settle in one location, especially when the frontier era was finally ended.
When the syndicate became established, Jason approached them in the height of ww2. Explaining his blight, Jason proposed a method to seal his fellow necromancers to ensure that they cannot continue their wicked and sinful practices, also allowing his freedom. While the event of doing so was a very difficult scenario that almost cost the foundation their resources and agents, the necromancers were sealed away with magic imprisonment on eldritch abomination levels of security and power of the sealing.
For a while though, Jason went under the radar from the foundation, taking various identities in various cities across the globe. It wasn't until recently when he returned to the organization, offering his service and agreeing to the demands of barring his practice of necromancy in exchange, as well as being forbidden to disappear from the organization's watch. Returning to the world he brought with him a token of his adventures, Fenrir, his trusted partner.
Weapon(s):
S & W .357 magnum revolver in black; This gun is in supply of silver bullets and the barrel of the revolver is often lightly soaked in a flask of blessed holy water.
A Black combat knife with a blade lined with silver and has a pentagram inscribed in the left side of the blade.
Skills:
Occult investigator: Being a former cultist, Jason knows shady shit when he sees em. He will often have some knowledge on various cults and their basic goals if it is anything more then worshiping their deity. This also expands to eldritch horror-esq worships.
Marksman of the Wild West: With his past life being an outlaw, he has grown a good skill of using guns, revolvers in particular. Not only can he make very accurate shots but he can reload his revolver swift and efficiently.
Close Quarters Warlock: Aside from his gun, his other primary weapon is his knife, which he has modified to use as a catalyst for certain spells. Being involved in bar fights he can also be quiet brash with cheap shots.
Power(s):
Necromancy
Even with his limited knowledge and practice of his own powers, he is forbidden to use them.
Knife Enchantment
He can cast a select few spells with his knife, being the following:
-Incendiary blade: The blade of the knife becomes consumed in flames, with the fire reaching an additional 3 feet off of the blade in a straight line in a similar shape to the blade itself, essentially acting as both a fire damage enhancement and melee range extender.
-Ward Cutter: The knife's blade becomes shrouded in an ominous purple glow, in this state, the blade can cut through various magic-based assortments such as runes, magic barriers, etc. This can also disarm certain enchantments.
-Blessed Divinity: The blade illuminates a golden glow, giving it holy damage.
-Incendiary blade: The blade of the knife becomes consumed in flames, with the fire reaching an additional 3 feet off of the blade in a straight line in a similar shape to the blade itself, essentially acting as both a fire damage enhancement and melee range extender.
-Ward Cutter: The knife's blade becomes shrouded in an ominous purple glow, in this state, the blade can cut through various magic-based assortments such as runes, magic barriers, etc. This can also disarm certain enchantments.
-Blessed Divinity: The blade illuminates a golden glow, giving it holy damage.
Sealing runes
He knows how to draw and cast various magic barriers and seals of various levels with his sigil chalk. These are only useful outside of combat, used as traps/prepared before combat, or in less violent situations that would require them, as it takes too much time to draw them. Some of the more powerful runes require blood as well.
Fenrir (Yes I'm counting his pet as a power)
Classification
Dragon
Drake Subgroup
Dracolupas
Size:
Height: 6 feet
Length: 23 feet
Weight: half a ton
Scales: Plated scales are as durable as steel, except for soft underbelly. Scales also can regrow over the course of 2 weeks when it sheds new scales.
Bite strength: It can bend metal with teeth and jaws.
Strength: Can dent an iron wall alone with a full sprint charge with its horns. A tail whip can be just as strong. Can potentially tackle down objects and/or creatures up to twice its own weight. Thick muscles are present and compact beneath its scaly hide.
Speed: Can sprint up to 35 mph for over 5 hours, and can carry half of its own weight without an issue.
Senses: 20/20 vision with a bio-illumination in its eyes that resemble a dim candle flame, allowing it to see in under darkness. It can smell as well as a trained bloodhound with its forked tongue. It has well enough hearing to discern its name when called, as well as the voice calling it.
Firepower: It can breath jets of flames from its maw at a range of 10 meters, at 6,000 °F. Additionally like other dragons it has an undefined heat resistance, essentially unaffected by the heat of even the most extreme temperatures such as molten rock or plasma.
Intelligence: Rivals that of a dog in terms of loyalty and obedience. While not sapient, it is able to recognize individuals, including its own reflection, and can solve simple problem solving skills.
Fenrir is loyal to Jason, who claims he hatched Fenrir from an egg. Dragons are extremely rare if not extinct creatures, including there various species such as Fenrir. It has reached its adult size, unlikely to grow much more.
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