clanjos

High School Rumble! [open for applicants]

Name: Akira "Sting" Banchou
Appearance:
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Year Level: Senior
Faction/club: DJ Club, Botany Club
Power: Akira's power isn't overt. After three years at the academy, Akira's body and clothing are infested with parasitic organisms. While this drastically increases his food intake, it also grants him a wide range of benefits. Bees nest in his hair, giving it a lustrous sheen from the honey and meticulous care of a beehive. The worms in his stomach make the acid incredibly potent, allowing him to spray it from his mouth. The strange beetles living under his jacket make hitting him akin to punching a stone wall, though force still sends him reeling. "One With The Power of Nature."
Rank: 1,000,000
Bio: Akira comes from a loving family... who ALSO happen to be infested by parasitic bugs. His mother's colony of ants works constantly, and his father's beetle coating makes him nearly bulletproof. In fact, power over insects runs in the family on both sides. Although his last name refers to the position in the Japanese imperial guard his family once held, Akira just so happens to be a banchou, the leader of a school's delinquents. Mostly, this consists of fighting other delinquents in a show of physical dominance, then palling around with them later. The gang's secondary priorities include protecting the weak from bullies and helping old people. As soon as he heard of a school for those with powers, however, he recognized his best chance of becoming King of the Bancho! All it would take is bringing the delinquents here down a peg.

High School Rumble! [open for applicants]

Someone who isn't completely invincible, I'd imagine.

Working on redoing a character I did for a Tenra Bansho Zero game where we were banchos trying to conquer the school district.

Fate/esoteric facsimile

Rider

As Mamoru finished the chant, a blinding red light shone from the center of the circle. Spurs jingled as a man in a long duster appeared, walking over to the chair in the corner of the room. From one of his pockets, he took rolling paper and tobacco, rolling up a smoke. Wordlessly, he struck a match on his thumb, bringing it up to his cigarette and taking a long drag. Finally, he tipped his hat to look Mamoru over, and spoke in a thick southern drawl:

"Awright, kiddo, let's get this over with. What makes you think I should accept you for my Master? What're you plannin' to do with the Grail?"

---

Erasmus Tormod

Tormod Manor. A sprawling home of a line of maguses dating back to the age of Vikings. Runes served as deterrents against other magi, which was fortunate- he was preparing to summon a Servant for the upcoming Grail War. The house's butler, a tremendous man in a custom-tailored suit, stood behind Erasmus as he finished the ritual, chanting in old Germanic tongues.

"You, seven heavens clad in three words of power, arrive from the ring of deterrence, O keeper of the balance!"

War of the Multiverse

The voices in Florida Man's head were deafening, even if their advice was occasionally solid. Plus seeing all those ghosts with Florida Vision was freaky as hell... The day saved, Florida Man took out the H-Dial, going through and entering the sequence to turn back...

O! R! E! H! When this mystical sequence is put into an H-Dial, the powers are lost and the transformation is broken, allowing the user to return to their normal form! A responsible hero only uses their powers for good, and always gives them back when the battle is over.

---

John Shirkwood, the bar

Sidling up to the bar, he pocketed the H-dial and dropped his head. Motioning for a mug, he sat up and sighed.

"Fucking Florida Man. I'd say he's the world's worst superhero but, hey, he gets the job done. He didn't do any damage this time, right?"

G.S.W.F Pro wrestling rp

Digizel, I'm playing Dracula, who has a stable of wrestlers who are horror movie monsters.

The intro involves Johnny Two Phones fighting Beelzebub on the surface of the sun.

This is not a serious game.

War of the Multiverse

"No problem, gramps. I'll set you down as soon as we land. I have URGENT BUSINESS to attend to."

Gliding the unconscious vulture to safety on the ground, he set the old man on a bench in front of the bar, spinning on his heel.

"I AM THE GODDAMN JESUS OF BIRD-KICKING!" Florida Man shouted. He snatched his beer back from Rin, guzzling it in one go before biting the neck off, chewing, and swallowing the shards of glass. "So what'd I miss? I'm stoned out of my fucking MIND right now."

G.S.W.F Pro wrestling rp

Name: Vladimir Tepes Dracula

Alias: Count Smackula, Vlad The Impaler, Count Wrassula

Standing: Heel

Appearance: Vlad on his Throne of Chumps- made from the bones of those who he has killed within two minutes of the start of the match. The demon's skull over his seat is Belphegor.

Backstory: Dracula has wrestled since the medieval age, earning the nickname "Impaler" for his signature move of spiking his opponents onto the ringpost. Over the years, he wandered from stable to stable, before in the 1940's he came across the creature that would become one of the stars of his stable: Wolfman. Unable to hold down a job with other outfits due to his moon-based condition, Wolfman was left to starve. Dracula found many other monster wrestlers were in a similar state as they didn't fit with the "theme" of many stables. Dracula's answer was to start his own stable, with blackjack, and ghouls beholden to the will of his wrestlers. Four years ago, his stable disappeared, unable to participate in the Solar Showdown for reasons they never made clear... But now, they have returned, and according to Dracula, they're more powerful than ever.

About you: The king of vampires, the lord of Transylvania, manager of the Horror Hammers, a stable of monster wrestlers. Known to fire his wrestlers into a ring from a cannon that shoots coffins. Has all the abilities of a typical vampire- turning into bats, rats, wolves, and mist. He wants to blow up the sun for two reason: First, fuck the sun. Second, if he does, he's the last person to ever claim the Seat on the Sun.

Why I should hire or rehire you: "I'M THE KING OF THE NIGHT, BABY! YOU HIRE DRACULA AND HIS HORROR HAMMERS, AND YOU GOT THE BIGGEST NAMES IN HEELS SINCE SATAN HIMSELF CHALLENGED ADAM IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN!"

G.S.W.F Pro wrestling rp

We're probably going to want at least an appearance section. Maybe a backstory.

Professional Wrestling rp,

Honestly, I'd say go full batshit. According to Kayfabe, the underside of the ring has portals to hell, leprechaun villages, Egyptian tombs, and god knows what else.

And then there's the fact that Robocop interfering in a match is actually canon to the storyline.

War of the Multiverse

John Shirkwood, the Bar

John was about to sit down now that the situation had been diffused when he heard screaming. Thankfully, he'd already dialed H-E-R, and just let go of the final digit as he began running for the door.

H! E! R! O! When this mystical sequence is put into an H-Dial, a strange function begins- the dialer can become strange and wondrous heroes from across the multiverse! Of course, whether it's Robby Reed, Chris King, Nelson Jent, or now John Shirkwood- they never know WHAT they'll get when they... DIAL H FOR HERO!

He could feel it. This was one he'd been before. He knew what he had to do, grabbing a beer. As his body changed, his hair grew into a tastless mullet, his shirt vanished, his pants became a flame-print swimsuit, and a mystical quiver full of bizarre weapons to aid in the crusade of the world's worst superhero.

---

Florida Man, en route to Justice

A recovering alcoholic. A former drug addict. Arrested for everything from smacking a woman with a banana to firing on a station wagon full of Hitlers with a musket. And now it was up to him to save that old man. Bursting through the swinging doors, Florida Man thrust his beer into the hand of the closest person present as he crouched.

"HOLD MY BEER... AND WATCH THIS!"

With a mighty WHUMPH, the boards under Florida Man's feet shattered into splinters as he leapt upward, soaring toward a vulture.

"FUCK YOU TWEETY! YOU'RE NOT BETTER THAN ME!"

As Florida Man approached the scavenging bird, he took a stance and roundhouse kicked the scavenger right in its face. The bird's jaw went slack as it passed out, but years of evolution locked its wings in place to prevent it from freefalling. While normally it would slowly glide to earth in a tight spiral, Florida Man had other plans. Grabbing the bird's wings and forcing them into a spread, trying to direct its flight.