DarckLeon

Strange Gospel: A Heavily Persona-Inspired Urban Fantasy RP

Kazama Kosubaku

"That would be 2570 yen. Here's your change, I hope you have a good day sir" Kazama said, as he smiled amicably at the old man. It has been a slow day, with only 5 customers so far. On days like these he liked to review what they did in class, his notebook tucked in a corner of the cashier's desk that couldn't be seen from the front. Of course, even if it was unseen, Kazama still closed it whenever a customer came in, as to not get distracted. He was a firm believer that any task, especially a job, should be done with 100% of your attention, no matter how small. It was a philosophy that had served him well so far, and one that he would continue using in his everyday life.

He was about to open his notebook again when a sound interrupted him. It was a "thump-thump" that started to increase in volume. It felt like a heartbeat, a strange, creeping "thump-thump" that seemed to come from his surroundings, entering his body and making him sick to his bones. But the weirdness didn't end there. He could see, from where he was, that a woman was about to enter the market, except she didn't move. It was as if she was frozen in time. Kazama moved from behind the desk and took a few hesitant steps toward the entrance, wondering if a gas leak nearby made him hallucinate what was going on. Once he reached the double doors, he realized it wasn't only the woman who was frozen, but the world itself. The characteristic sounds of machinery or birds had ceased to be. Not even the slightest breeze could be felt. He was about to ask the woman if she was ok when suddenly she disappeared, and with her the light of the sun, an enormous moon in its place.

The moonlight was the only source of light, but, after seeing the state of his surroundings, Kazama wished for darkness instead. Everywhere he looked, from the walls to the floor to the street signs was bathed with blood and gore. It was surreal, the combination of red, white, and black formed an otherwordly combination, a sight so alien it made his stomach churn. The heartbeat got louder, and he didn't have time to guess it this time it was his own because a structure he could swear wasn't there a moment ago entered his view. It was a tower, if it could be called that, a gigantic spire in the distance that didn't belong to this world and went up and up and up, seemingly without end. He was so entranced by it that he didn't hear the wet thump behind him until he could feel it right on his neck.

Kazama looked back, a scream in his mouth when everything stopped. He was back in the normal world. No blood, no moon, and definitely no tower. The woman that was about to enter the market seemed to hear him because she looked at him for a moment before a worried expression crossed her face. "Oh my, are you ok young man? your face is white"

The words broke him from his trance, and he realized what strange sight he was giving. He tried to regain his composure and answered the woman "Y-yeah, I was just... grabbing some trash from the street, come in madam, we are still open" he said with a smile and went inside. If he could, he would go to the bathroom to throw up, but he couldn't leave a client unattended, it would look bad for the cameras, so he just gulped down the sickness he felt and tried to get his mind in his work.

But there was just one thing that couldn't leave his thoughts. Even if what happened just now felt like a fever dream, he could feel, deep inside him, that it was somehow familiar.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Orlando

---

Is this what being on drugs felt like? He never tried them, he promised his mother that when he was still a kid, but he had friends that did, and they always said the trip made you forget about all the problems you had, a real out-of-the-world experience, and right now, while Orlando could admit that he was undergoing a sensation he never experienced in the past, he sure as fuck thought about his problems more than ever before.

Being raised as a devout Christian, he never doubted the existence of God, but there were still questions he asked the neighbourhood priest when his family and he went to mass. One of those was "is my soul next to my heart?" and, even if he forgot the answer that he was given that day, he could now confirm it was somewhere in his body because the cold that he felt right now chilled him to his soul. That same coldness made him forget most of what happened in that endless sinking, but those piercing gold eyes and the warm presence afterward would remain in his mind for the rest of his life. For one moment he even though he was in Heaven before the warm turned unbearable and he opened his mouth to scream. Or tried to at least. What happened instead was that he almost choked on the sand. The sand that he was on top of. The sand that wasn't in any way shape or form near them before they were thrown into the water.

He got up, spat the sand in his mouth, and looked at his surroundings. What greeted him was a sight more in tune with his home rather than the cold shores of England. "Filho da puta, what just happened..." he asked, before realizing the others were just as clueless as he was. He looked over to the sea, and a foreboding sensation crept all over him. Swimming back to England wasn't his first idea but that sealed the deal right there. Whatever the answer was, they would need to find it on this island.

His line of thought was interrupted by a sudden scream. It would seem miss Icebreaker abandoned them once again to their luck. That would be funny if their lives weren't at risk because of it, but what could you do? It's not like Sofia gave the image of being useful in a situation like this anyway... or in any really, maybe it was for the better that she fainted. Orlando himself was scared as fuck, but he felt showing it in front of these rich kids was just admitting they were better than him, and that was just not true. So he counted to 10 in his head and steeled himself mentally.

The rest of the people on the beach were in a variety of moods. That crazy chick just didn't give a fuck about anything it seemed, unlike Maive who apologized for their situation. While it was true that they felt mainly because of her, who, in their wildest dream would think this would have happened? He felt the need to reassure his fellow Art student. "Hey, it's not your fault, if anything it's Sofia's, if it wasn't for her we wouldn't have been in the docks to start with". There was just something right in throwing Sofia under the bus, he pondered.

Then he saw the blond dude, Frankie or something. Out of all of them, he looked the worst by miles, the guy couldn't even stand up. It was a sorry sight and Orlando felt pity for him. He walked towards him, got on his knee, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Frankie right? hey amigo, no need to panic, things are looking bad but that just means they can only get better, like my grandma liked to say, worrying is just like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do but it won't get you anywhere, so chin up and let's help Victor look for a way out of here". Perhaps it was not the best advice but well, it was the best he could come up with at the moment. With that said, he got up and said to the Frenchman "I'm going too".

He was looking for some stones to put in his pockets when the girl with the funny accent started verbally assaulting Maive. He would have liked to say something, but honestly, the girl seemed pretty heated up at the moment, he was sure she would tire herself out. It's not like he was scared or something, no sir. He kept looking for the sharpest rocks he could find in the sand.

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛𝚜

Expect my answer and a post between today or tomorrow!

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Orlando

---

He had to admit, after that disastrous first meeting he truly did not expect to ever see Sofia again, but it seems she took her position seriously. After hearing her explanation, Orlando took a look at his peers. Most of them accepted her words and were in the middle of changing into their swimwear, hell, the girl on the roof just took her clothes off, a swimsuit under them.

He was no stranger to weird traditions or rites of passage. Back in his home, the first time he participated in the main event of the Carnaval, he got his whole head shaved clean and had to dance barefoot, something all dancers went through. So with that in mind, he took off his shirt and got his towel out of the backpack he brought with him. While not on the level of someone who dedicated their lives to the gym, Orlando's body was fit and lean, specially his legs, but it wasn't something obvious to the eye, having what he liked to call "work muscles", gained through a life of constant physical activity in his youth.

If this was some kind of prank, at least he wouldn't be the only victim of it, and if what Sofia said was true, he wouldn't like to appear dismissive of the school traditions, who knows what the rest of the rich kids might do if they though Orlando didn't respect their customs. The rest of the people in the dock appeared to have the same idea as him, except for one girl that seemed to be extremely against the idea. He could sympathize with her honestly, the weather in England was the total opposite of that of his home, where you could go for a swim on the beach at any time of the day knowing the water would be at the very least temperate, but he could not say the same about here. He was sure at least one of them would catch a cold.

Victor was the first to try to convince her. He and Maive were the ones he was most familiar with here, at least by sight. He heard some girls already wondering if he was single or not, maybe he could ask him and sell the info later, as long as he didn't trace it back to Orlando it would be ok. He felt the need to add. "Yeah, Victor's right, and besides if you get sick or something you could always sue Sofia, it's her idea after all, we can even be your ehh, what's the word... testemunhas, the people who saw it happen and speak about it to the police" he said with a smirk directed at Sofia. There were still traces of Orlando's acute, almost flowing-like maternal accent in his speech. He didn't really mean it, but well, it was true that the girl in question abandoned them just to appear one week later with a weird request, some playful revenge was in order. There was just one question he had to ask Sofia.

"I just have one question, why a frog? is that the mascote of the school or something? or you just like the animal"

Strange Gospel: A Heavily Persona-Inspired Urban Fantasy RP

Kazama Kosubaku

Kazama stretched his arms in his seat as he heard the bell ring. The school day has ended and, contrary to the rest of his schoolmates, he still tried to pay attention to what was happening in the class, even with all these rumors flying around. He had to, after all, it was part of the deal Kazama had with the principal. The school knew of his situation and permitted him to have part-time jobs, as long as his grades didn't fall below the average of the class. It wasn't easy, but as long as he concentrated in class and read his notes every now and again he had managed to do it so far.

"Today is... cashier at the market, right, I should get going now" he said to himself. He was about to finish grabbing his notes when a voice behind him interrupted him. "Hey Kazama, me and the boys are going to the arcade, if you're free come with us! it will be fun!". Kazama turned around, an apologetic smile already on his face while an automatic response left his mouth: "I would love that, seriously, but I'm kinda busy right now, maybe another day" he said and finished packing his stuff in his bag. He appreciated that they keep asking, even if nowadays the invitations started getting more and more scarce. Kazama couldn't blame his classmates for that, and it wasn't his fault either, it was just how things were. "Have fun guys!" he finally said, before leaving the classroom.

Out in the hallways, even in the cacophony of voices, it was impossible to miss out on the main topic of conversation. Strange Gospel appeared out of nowhere and managed to become the only thing the students of the city talked about. Kazama thought it would fade out within the first week and another weird thing would take its place, yet after several weeks people still kept gossiping about it. Even he had downloaded it one afternoon, surprised it even worked on his crappy phone. He had to admit, the fact that the video he saw came to pass WAS pretty spooky, concerning even, but after a long day of classes followed by an even longer day of working, he forgot about it. Then the weird videos began to pop up. Then the disappearances started. He wasn't all that scared, he had other stuff to worry about after all, like maintaining his grades and bringing food to the table... but he stopped using most alleys as shortcuts and tried to walk home with his coworkers if he could in the evenings. It was for precaution, he told himself. Nothing more and nothing less.

Kazama reached the school entrance and started his walk towards the market. As a result of being wary of walking through the various alleys of the city alone, he had to use a more rapid pace if he wanted to reach his destination in time to confortably change into his uniform. So with that in mind, his walk became a slight jog. He wondered if today was going to be a slow day, and hoped there was a deal in tuna, his mom loved those and they didn't eat fish in some time. Maybe he'll even find money on the ground.

At the end of the day Kazama was an optimistic at heart,so he was sure all this Strange Gospel business would resolve itself quickly. Maybe it was all a big prank that some guys and gals though it would be funny, who knows, he certainly didn't that's for sure.

Strange Gospel: A Heavily Persona-Inspired Urban Fantasy RP

Should have a post up rather soon too.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Orlando

---

England was a cold place, Orlando had realized in the 6 months he stayed in the quiet port city near the boarding school, and he wasn't referring to the weather, even if it could be a little less foggy for his taste. No, what made England cold was its people. He found it difficult to put it into words, perhaps it was the distance with which they treated strangers or their strange sense of humour, but they were the complete opposite of your average Brazilian.

Don't get him wrong, his time in Harbour City wasn't bad by any means, he even found a part-time job as a cashier in a small market and earned some pocket money!... but the monotony of the small city quickly got to him, and there's just so many times you can visit the museum before you start to memorize the script the poorly paid intern they use as a guide repeats every time. But now, having survived 1 week of classes in a highly competitive school full of students with more money than all the families in his old neighbourhood combined, Orlando was sure he could listen to that guide a few more times.

Classes were difficult, and the still hard-to-grasp accent of the teachers didn't make the already high level of the material any easier that's for sure. To be completely honest, Orlando chose to be an Arts student just because, of all the other options, it sounded the easiest, but he didn't expect to be learning about all these strange words like renaissance and baroque. He was sure that he would be dead last in the upcoming test, and wouldn't that be an excellent way to start his school year, he wasn't sure how lenient his scholarship was, but surely that wasn't a good showing at all. He only hoped that the guys in charge of that matter didn't expel him in the first month, wouldn't that be hilarious after all the big talk he made to his family?

At least he already made some acquaintances. It wasn't hard honestly, his exotic looks and place of birth made for good conversation topics, the majority of the rich kids never met someone from South America, never mind being peers with one. Sure, being asked to say this or that word in Portuguese got old really fast really soon, but hey if they had fun with that who was he to judge? He even offered his services as a city guide for some fellow students, his time spend looking for interesting places in his free time already paying off. The only awkward time he had was that one Icebreaker thing they had. After their... counselor? left, they only managed to introduce themselves before leaving the room to never go back.

His room was ok to his tastes. It had all the necessary things to be called a bedroom, and he had long unpacked the few things he brought from home: some airy shorts, sandals, a poster of Ronaldinho, and a family picture they once took. But once again it lacked that familiar warmth he was accustomed to. No sounds of kids playing in the street, no sound of his mother cooking for dinner, no anything. It was at times like this that he remembered just the tremendous amount of distance between him and his homeland.

At times like that, he liked to practice capoeira. The movements and flows of the martial arts worked wonders to relax him. He felt he could let his body speak for him in ways that his word could never do, and, in a way, connect with his family even if they were an entire ocean of distance away. It was after one of these sessions that he realized someone left a paper under his door, in the shape of a little frog. When he read what was on it, Orlando was puzzled. Who would want to send him such a letter and why?

Well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, and if this was some kind of prank he was confident he could get away cleanly. The next day, he once again tried and failed to understand what he was listening to in classes and, after going with some other students to sign in for the football club, clarifying that while he was good, he wasn't as good as Neymar or Vinicius just because he was Brazilian, walked toward the point the map marked.

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛𝚜

Hank Doyle

_{Hank Doyle
◄ 46 ▎ MALE ▎ 5'8'' ►}

_{P R O F I L E}

Ask anybody in the NSPD to name the perfect cop and, 15 years prior, the name Hank Doyle would have been a strong candidate for that title. Nowadays, they only say his name as a cautionary tale of what this job can do to a man, and they would be right of course. Once the ace of the NSPD, Hank now spends his free time in the cheapest bar he can find, and the only reason that he still maintains his job, aside from the crucial need for willing officers in this world, is the fact that, under all the alcohol and resentfulness, lies one of the brightest minds the police has ever seen, capable of finding connections in the most minuscule of details, and a man who, in his 25 years of tenure, has seen the worst that humanity has to offer and decided a bottle of Whisky is all that he needs to face it.

_{D A Y S - G O N E}

Coming from a middle-class home and son of two hardworking parents, Hank Doyle's childhood dream was always to be a police officer. Fighting crime and helping make the world a better place for the people was his calling. He studied hard, ate his vegetables, and exercised every day to make this happen. In high school, he met his sweetheart and at 21 years got accepted into the New Seattle police academy, where he graduated at the top of his class. One year later, he married his girlfriend, Sally, in a beautiful ceremony

Things were looking good for good ol Hank. It wasn't a perfect life by any means: the rather average salary made things difficult sometimes, and more often than not he had to finish some paperwork at his home, but then again, nobody had a perfect life, and Hank liked his. His marriage was good, he felt he was doing good by the city, and a promotion was, if the rumours were to be believed, soon at hand. In fact, officer Doyle's meteoric rise through the ranks of the NSPD is still talked about to this day.

And so, 10 years rapidly passed by, and Hank learned that, sometimes, there's no big event or tragedy that marks a new stage in life, but instead, it just slowly grinds away at you. Now a lieutenant, his workload had become a strain on his relationship, and the fact that his keen mind and sharp intuitions made him indispensable in homicides cases had backfired, as the constant need to face the crime scenes of some truly vile murders slowly sapped away at his mind and will, because no matter how many he cases he solved, there's always was more lunatics out there snuffing innocent lives. His way of coping became alcohol, and in no time at all transformed into a crutch he heavily relied upon.

It was a miracle his marriage lasted another 5 years, but one big fight and a punch in the wall in anger was enough to put the last nail in the coffin. The next month Hank Doyle was a divorced man, and his vice started to get in the way of his job. He still managed to apprehend criminals and close cases, but his constant insubordination and mood swings damaged his already dwindling reputation, and the fact that he was, in his youth, the golden boy of the NSPD was, besides the fact that in a city like New Seattle any officer counted, the only reason he only got demoted instead of fired.

Now with twenty-five years of service under his belt, and with cigarettes added to his alcoholism, Hank Doyle thought that his life had settled into a nice routine of working late, getting drunk, and sleeping on the couch, only to repeat it again, but the Chief of the NSPD had other plans to him. A new serial killer was on the loose, and this was spreading chaos and discord throughout the city. Doyle was, to the chief's despair, one of the only individuals he could trust with this case. Perhaps it was the still burning cinder of his pride, or the fact that he owed much to the Chief, but whatever the reason, Hank accepted becoming part of this so-called group tasked with finding the Morse Code Killer, perhaps even and old bastard like him could help the city.

_{2045 - CENSUS}

No Prior Service

_{M E M O R I E S}

Chief MacCready: The Chief of the NSPD, and one of Hank's earliest mentors.

Sally Peterson: Hank's ex-wife. They still maintain communication, but she moved on and settled with another man.

_{O L D - S A M - B R O W N E}

A Glock 9mm
A small notebook and some pens
A flashlight
A flask of low-quality Whisky
A swiss army knife
And old cellphone.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

From South America to the World

Name:

Orlando Pedrosa Da Silva

Arcana:

Magician

Birthday:

July 6th

Appearance:

Orlando stands at a noticeable 6 feet tall, which, combined with his olive complexion and green eyes, makes him stand out among his peers. Always with a smile on his face, onlookers might describe him as a sunny individual, but if one were to look closer, they would see loathing hiding in his eyes.

His love of capoeira has led Orlando to possess a strong core and lower body, although not one that could be defined as "ripped" by any means of the word. Nevertheless, when he's not using the school uniform, he prefers swimmers' trunks and Hawaiian shirts but doesn't have any preference outside of that, combining colors and attires in a way that someone with an eye for fashion might get offended for it. The only constant in his clothes is that each one has at least two to three pockets in it, ideal to hold his beloved spices.

Reputation:

For the majority of the school, Orlando is clearly the guy who knows a guy. The number of that cute drama girl, the favorite food of that hot jock, or even the answers of that hellish maths test, he can get it for you... if you have the money that is. Such a reputation is not one easily earned, and Orlando has worked hard for it: slowly becoming acquaintances with people from all over the school, doing small favours for free, and gaining the right contacts, it would not be wrong to say his name is the first one that comes to mind when you have a problem that requires some bending of the rules to resolve.

Yet asks any of his peers something about him and the most they would be able to say is that he's from Brazil and that he's in the school with a scholarship. An observant person would notice that in truth, if he already got what he wanted from someone, he will use excuses like "too much homework" or "not enough time" to avoid spending more time with that student until he has a need for that particular person again that is.

Yet even taking that into consideration, his exotic looks, natural charisma, and services he offers have made him somehow of a celebrity in the school, something he is well aware of and isn't afraid to use in his favour.

Background:

Growing up in the claustrophobic, maze-likes favelas of Brazil teaches kids from an early age a few hard-hitting lessons: never get attached to your neighbours, never ask too many questions and always look out for yourself. While Orlando was fortunate enough to avoid the truly dangerous part of that life, he still had to work from an early age to help the economy of his household, but the affection and love he received from his family were more than enough to make up for it.

Such life has more downs than ups, yet one of the highlights of every year had to be the Carnaval, a truly tremendous celebration of Brazil's rich history and culture, and a place where Orlando could show off his one true passion: capoeira. Each year he would get better and better at it, using the characteristic martial arts of his land as an outlet and a way of expressing himself, his life, and his struggles, like his ancestor did in the past. It would seem God smiled on him, as one of his performances got uploaded on the internet, where it gathered a respectable amount of views, and an opportunity of a lifetime: a scholarship at the exclusive Harbour Academy.

After much debate and only after earnestly promising his family he would come back and get them a better life, Orlando embarked 6 months before classes officially started, to not only learn the language but to acclimate to a foreign land and get a very intensive course to get him at a somehow respectable academy level. The little free time he had he used to sharpen his craft and earn as much money as he could to send to his family. Due to how the exchange rates worked, even spare change could make a difference, and those rich kids he would study with never wanted for anything. Wealthy and pampered, he was sure he could make quick bucks out of them: sell favours to those who looked like they could give him troubles, and rip off the spoiled idiots who didn't know better.

Far from his family and their warmth, far from his country and its culture, in an unfamiliar and distant land, yet it was a small price to pay for a chance at a better future. He knew he was at a disadvantage from the get-go, so he would not hesitate to lie, cheat and steal to stay ahead of his competition in Harbour Academy. The rest of the students already had the upper hand in terms of resources and knowledge, so it would be only fair to tip the scales in his favour a little, right?.

Misc. :

Part of the Arts program.

Is familiar with most of the staff in the school, knows them by their name, and helps them on occasion.

Always has a variety of spices with him. Thinks English cuisine, while good, is sorely lacking in condiment.

Has a heavy accent and tends to utilize Brazilian words when he doesn't know how to say something in English, but also tends to overdo it to maintain an affable image.

Is not afraid to scam a fellow student if he thinks it will not be traced to him. Has done it in the past.

---

Weapon:

A pair of heavy steel cap boots.

Persona: Odysseus

A greek hero best known for his guile and wits, qualities that saved him a number of times in his 10-year journey back home after the Trojan War. Yet if it wasn't for his pride and hubris, many of his problems could have been avoided.

Moveset:

A Persona specialized in both close combat and using the strength of his enemies against them in the form of status ailments. If the situation were to call for it, he can also utilize a bit of wind magic, but it's obviously not his forte.

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛𝚜

good god I am not in the mood to write a cohesive backstory

@DarckLeon
Cool character! There's a high chance he'd know mine, can I mention you in my sheet?

@False Prophet

Of course! if the gm approves it there's a high chance he's known to a lot of people. I'd edit my sheet too afterwards if it's possible that i know you too.