Deathmyster

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Aaaand Grant has moved to the Character thread!

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Grant Rotem - Arbiter - Feigned Dominance

ℕ 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 :

Grant Rotem

𝔸 𝕘 𝕖 :

17 (February 14)

ℍ 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 :

5'10"

𝕎 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 :

156 lbs.

𝔸 𝕡 𝕡 𝕖 𝕒 𝕣 𝕒 𝕟 𝕔 𝕖 :

(Props to shizzzu for making this fine piece of art and @January for letting me mooch off. :D)

Grant has a light tan complexion to come with his usually messy, black hair and green eyes. The only thing of note about his face are some now faded scratches amongst his facial features, but nothing too apparent to distract. He barely pays attention to his attire and hair, usually leaving as many buttons possible open (apart from his pants), and ties incredibly loose. Thus why when someone sees him in a usual, casual setting, he mostly wears t-shirts, usually wrinkled. He wears a tired expression in an everyday situation, even when in a good mood, but that quickly changes once something escalates. He isn't the tallest, nor the bulkiest person in the world. Heck, not even the fittest person, but enough that he can survive.

ℙ 𝕖 𝕣 𝕤 𝕠 𝕟 𝕒 𝕝 𝕚 𝕥 𝕪 :

If it weren't obvious before, Grant is a messy and unorganized person, not having the mindset to be clean in any way, and his power only added to that laziness. He also constantly comes off as a very tired person, slouching and having his hands stuffed in his pockets most of the time. In that sense, he's a slacker. Lazy and reluctant to do anything that he warrants "unnecessary" in his perspective. Emphasis on 'reluctant'. If he's pestered or convinced, he's likely to do that "unnecessary" activity anyways, no matter how grumpy or annoyed that makes him. He is prone to being not so proficient in making conversation, but that doesn't mean he's anti-social. Just that generally, he's a bad talker. Although he is tired and neutral with most people, while he's with any type of parental figure, he has come to lash out at them, usually becoming angry or irritated, and in some cases, just outright yelling at them with irrational outbursts of distrust and betrayal. No matter how nice, bad, or friendly they are, Grant will have nothing to do with them if possible.

ℍ 𝕚 𝕤 𝕥 𝕠 𝕣 𝕪 :

When they, the government, found Grant, all they saw was a teen with his hands wrapped around his arms in an alleyway, his back against the building's wall, quiet sobs coming from him. It was the dead of night, and he was obviously cold. Lights flashed on him, and in an instant, his pained face turned into one of panic. His mind told him, 'evil, run, don't let them, distrust, betrayal', and he tried to flee, he tried to struggle, even using his power against them. Garbage bags one after the other, even trash can lids were thrown at the men. He'd yell at them, cursing, saying they're horrible, saying he didn't want to go. Eventually, they finally managed to catch him after he tired out. Struggling, and hateful thoughts flowing out of his mouth, he was taken and transferred out to USARILN East.

𝕄 𝕒 𝕘 𝕚 𝕔 :

Feigned Dominance
Through the visual telegraph that of a chain that seems to come from behind him, Grant can use the said chain in order to manipulate and alter inanimate and nonliving targets. When the chain makes contact with a valid target, which includes physical and nonliving objects or environment, he can control and manipulate the target as long as it is within his power's range. By anything physical, it literally means almost anything. From objects to even the floor at his feet, if he were to have that much energy. The range of his power is a 10m radius, and once something is out of that range, it stops Grant's control over it. He now has the use of three chains.

Upgrades So Far

Acquired second chain!
Range increased to 10m! (Originally 5m)
Acquired third chain!
Range increased to 30m! (Previously 10m)
Significantly less exhausting to use chains!

𝔻 𝕣 𝕖 𝕒 𝕞 :

Grant walked down a path. Just a simple sidewalk, and all was white around him. No people. No noise. Just pure silence. He only continued to take each step with stride in the peaceful white void, until the world around him began to shift. Move. The sidewalk under him turned to dirt, which grew grass. The ground moved, creating varying mounds of land spanning into the distance. He was amazed, staring down at the sight... Then he looked up. The sky had appeared, blue as can be, clouds materializing out of thin air. The path ahead curved up into a slope as he followed it. He climbed the rising path and when he reached the top, he saw the tranquil world that had been created, the sun peeking from the horizon. Then it ended.

ℕ 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 𝕞 𝕒 𝕣 𝕖 :

Grant found himself in an empty space. Just like before. Yet, everything was black around him. He looked around, confused, panicked. In the distance, he could see his parents, waving. As if they were saying goodbye. He didn't want that.
"No!" He shouted. "Don't leave!" He pleaded, running toward them, but he was stopped. Right in front of him, his parents rose from below, but they didn't wave. They just stood there, staring down at him. "D..Don't go... please!" He'd beg. Without hesitation, his parents kneeled down and enveloped him in their caring arms. He felt satisfied like this, like his worries were drifting away... but when he turned his head up to them, their faces began to crumble, like stone or sand. Deforming. Melting. Right in front of him, and his face was frozen with horror. His parents crumbled into his arms and slid away. Then it ended.

𝔸 𝕨 𝕒 𝕜 𝕖 𝕟 𝕚 𝕟 𝕘 :

Arbiter

𝔸 𝕣 𝕞 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕥 𝕤 :

N/Aaaah too lazy m8

𝕋 𝕙 𝕖 𝕞 𝕖 𝕊 𝕠 𝕟 𝕘 𝕤 :

"Yaaaaawn..."
".......Eh."
"Guess I have to fight."
"SHUT UP! GET AWAY FROM ME! I WON'T LET YOU BETRAY ME, JUST LIKE THEY DID!"
He was alone.
Them.

Lost Dreams of the People Around

Padma

Chains. How ironic. He would laugh if he could. Instead he's trying to pull away from them. His arms held back by chains. She was there. She was right there. Do something. Go on. He can't. He couldn't. He screams. The darkness takes Her. He struggles. He loses. He's on his knees. The darkness spits It out. The knife. Her knife. Hilarious. He could just hear the laughter. Pathetic. He can't move. His lungs hurt. His throat hurts. Everyone is screaming now. It isn't funny anymore. Nothing is. His fault. All His fault. It had to end.

---

Callan?

An endless battlefield, stretching across forever. Bodies lay all around him, the sky red. The earth soaking up the blood. They’re all here. They all knew. He tried to close his eyes. He didn’t want to look. It hurt just to look at it all.
”It’s your fault.” His eyes shot open. He was frozen. ”You didn’t do anything.” He turned his head. ”Coward.” It ended.

A blank slate. All white around Him. An even and neutral slate. He looked around quietly, in awe. This was different. So different. “It’s your fault, you know.” Tense. He turned to Her once again. Not this again. The words he expected did not come. ”But I’m no different. It’s your fault. Do something about it.” Oh. It was different. But He understood. Equal grounds. A clean slate. There are no grudges.

---

Angel?

He looks around. Safety. Comfort. A brief respite. Trees, grass. Beauty. Footsteps. The grass crunches a bit. He turns. He tenses up. Why was She here? His shoulder felt a light impact. A smile was given. As quick as She was here, She stepped away. He watched Her go. Gone. Alone again. The peaceful world crumbled around him to complete darkness. Ah. Back to normal.

She was there again. He was trapped in the darkness. Why was She here? He tried to move. He couldn't. He can't. She began to scream. Why was She screaming? Her of all people? It hurt. She was like them. Why? They all began to scream. She led them. He wanted it to end already. His head felt like it would burst. She was just like She said. She was a banshee.

Darkness. She’s gone. What happened?

---

Brent?

Light. Bright light all around. A comforting white. A nice space of air. He looked around in awe. He felt calm for once. At ease. Without trouble. Without terror. No screaming. No laughter. A light was ahead. He was unsure of what to think of it. He was unsure of where it would go.
"What are you waiting for?" He asked. Confusion and a glance, but He was pushed toward the light before He could see Him. "Go on. Show them what the Master Tactician can do." Hesitation. But He began to step forward toward the light. Then it ended.

---

T-Tater Tot?

Hey. A dog. He smiles. He kneels. He pets. It’s good. This is nice.

---

Them

They were there. They just show up sometimes. He can barely recognize who They are anymore. He didn't want to. Close his eyes, shut Them out. Can't hear Them, can't see Them. Don't trust Them, don't let Them near, They'll just throw him away again. Stay away. Run away. He should hate Them. He needs to bring himself to hate Them. Ignore Them. They're only dark figures in the past now. The close past. Hate Them. Why can't he hate Them?

Why does he need to feel so alone without Them?

Stop it. He has to wake up. Stop crying. Stop feeling.

---

Misc.

1. He's alone. It's all just darkness. Nothing to see. Relief. Then laughter. Then more. All around Him. Drowning His own voice out. Why are they laughing? It's all aimed at Him. They won't stop. It keeps going. Stop it. Why is He so alone?

2. It's the same. Dark. He waits. He hopes. They shatter. Screams. Wails. Cries. Block them out. Hands over ears. It doesn't work. It hurts. He starts to scream. Join them, and maybe He'll stop feeling so alone. They stop. They don't want to hear Him. He stops. It starts again. He screams. It stops. He hugs himself. Keep screaming. Yell them away. He cries. It hurts.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Here's my Character Sheet so far! Most of it is done aside from a couple touches regarding the magic of my character that I decided to leave out until the magic reviewing is done.

Aaand here is the (presumably) finished product of my Character Sheet, magic and all.

Grant

ℕ 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 :

Grant Rotem

𝔸 𝕘 𝕖 :

17

ℍ 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 :

5'10"

𝕎 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 :

156 lbs.

𝔸 𝕡 𝕡 𝕖 𝕒 𝕣 𝕒 𝕟 𝕔 𝕖 :

Grant has a light tan complexion to come with his usually messy, black hair and dark brown eyes. The only thing of note about his face are some now faded scratched amongst his facial features, but nothing too apparent to distract. He barely pays attention to his attire and hair, usually leaving as many buttons possible open (apart from his pants), and ties incredibly loose. Thus why when someone sees him in a usual, casual setting, he mostly wears t-shirts, usually wrinkled. He wears a tired expression in an everyday situation, even when in a good mood, but that quickly changes once something escalates. He isn't the tallest, nor the bulkiest person in the world. Heck, not even the fittest person, but enough that he can survive.

ℙ 𝕖 𝕣 𝕤 𝕠 𝕟 𝕒 𝕝 𝕚 𝕥 𝕪 :

If it weren't obvious before, Grant is a messy and unorganized person, not having the mindset to be clean in any way, and his power only added to that laziness. He also constantly comes off as a very tired person, slouching and having his hands stuffed in his pockets most of the time. In that sense, he's a slacker. Lazy and reluctant to do anything that he warrants "unnecessary" in his perspective. Emphasis on 'reluctant'. If he's pestered or convinced, he's likely to do that "unnecessary" activity anyways, no matter how grumpy or annoyed that makes him. He is prone to being not so proficient in making conversation, but that doesn't mean he's anti-social. Just that generally, he's a bad talker. Although he is tired and neutral with most people, while he's with any type of parental figure, he has come to lash out at them, usually becoming angry or irritated, and in some cases, just outright yelling at them with irrational outbursts of distrust and betrayal. No matter how nice, bad, or friendly they are, Grant will have nothing to do with them if possible.

ℍ 𝕚 𝕤 𝕥 𝕠 𝕣 𝕪 :

When they, the government, found Grant, all they saw was a teen with his hands wrapped around his arms in an alleyway, his back against the building's wall, quiet sobs coming from him. It was the dead of night, and he was obviously cold. Lights flashed on him, and in an instant, his pained face turned into one of panic. His mind told him, 'evil, run, don't let them, distrust, betrayal', and he tried to run, he tried to struggle, even using his power against them. Garbage bags one after the other, even trash can lids were thrown at the men. He'd yell at them, cursing, saying their horrible, saying he didn't want to go. Eventually, they finally managed to catch him. Struggling, and hateful thoughts flowing out of his mouth, he was taken... and transferred to USARILN East.

𝕄 𝕒 𝕘 𝕚 𝕔 :

Feigned Dominance
Through the visual telegraph that of a chain, Grant can use the said chain in order to manipulate and alter the inanimate and nonliving targets. When the chain makes contact with a valid target, thus meaning only physical things, he can control the target as long as it is within his power's range. The range of his power is a 5m radius, and once something is out of that range, it stops Grant's control over it. He also has the use of one chain.

𝔻 𝕣 𝕖 𝕒 𝕞 :

Grant walked down a path. Just a simple sidewalk, and all was white around him. No people. No noise. Just pure silence. He only continued to take each step with stride in the peaceful white void, until the world around him began to shift. Move. The sidewalk under him turned to dirt, then grass, and even the ground moved, creating lumps of ground. He was amazed, staring down at the sight... Then he looked up. The sky had appeared, blue as can be, full of clouds. The path ahead curved up as he followed it. He climbed the rising path and when he reached the top, he saw the tranquil world he was in, the sun rising from the horizon... and then it ended.

ℕ 𝕚 𝕘 𝕙 𝕥 𝕞 𝕒 𝕣 𝕖 :

Grant found himself in an empty space. Just like before. Yet, everything was black around him. He looked around, confused, panicked. In the distance, he could see his parents, waving. As if they were saying goodbye. He didn't want that. "No!" He shouted. "Don't leave!" He pleaded, running toward them, but he was stopped. Right in front of him, his parents rose from below, but they didn't wave. They just stood there, staring down at him. "D..Don't go... please!" He'd beg. Without hesitation, his parents kneeled down and hugged him. He felt satisfied like this... but when he looked at them, their faces began to crumble, like stone or sand. Deforming. Melting. Right in front of him, and his face was frozen with horror. His parents crumbled into his arms, and slid away. Then it ended.

𝔸 𝕨 𝕒 𝕜 𝕖 𝕟 𝕚 𝕟 𝕘 :

Arbiter

𝕊 𝕥 𝕚 𝕘 𝕞 𝕒 :

None.

𝔸 𝕣 𝕞 𝕒 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕥 𝕤 :

N/A

𝕋 𝕙 𝕖 𝕞 𝕖 𝕊 𝕠 𝕟 𝕘 𝕤 :

"Yaaaaawn..."
"Guess I have to fight, huh?"
"SHUT UP! GET AWAY FROM ME! I WON'T LET YOU BETRAY ME, JUST LIKE THEY DID!"

Aether Online - A VMMORPG RP inspired by Log Horizon, SAO, and Overlord

I'm hoping this is still a thing, 'cause I'm pretty interested in this as well...

End Merlin [Apocalypse-Survival RP] <--Looking for more! :D

Heya, kinda my first RP here in this forum, but I got experience, and this seems pretty interesting. Hope you approve! (By the way, if you need me to edit my history, I understand, I kinda got.. dark there.)

Character Sheet

Name: Brad Redbinski
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 140 lbs.
Complexion: Pale
Build: Fairly tall, yet at the same time, almost unhealthily skinny.
Hair Color: Dirty Blonde, almost Brown
Eye Color: Blue

Distinguishing Marks or Features: Multiple makeshift bandages, from small towels or paper towel, tied onto his arms, as well as cuts on his face, most noticeable being on his right cheek.

History:
Brad didn't have the easiest life in the world. He was born in Washington, and grew up about a quarter of his life there. But due to his parents, mostly his dad, changing jobs continuously, and they kept moving from state to state. When he was about 5 or 6, another addition to the family came. A sister. Naturally, Brad was forced to care for the new sibling as their parents were way to busy to care for them. Though reluctant, he soon accepted his role as caretaker. Brad always spent his time indoors, away from most of the world, with his family. The only education he got was up to fifth grade, but he dropped all that to take care of his sister, and most of his knowledge came from reading multiple books a day. Years slugged on for Brad. Move after move. Day after day. Year after year. Yet, after those years, Brad came to cherish the fleeting moments of togetherness with his family. Until they came to 'settle' in Oregon.
It was just a night like all others. It was by then he was 17, or 18. A noise rang out through their box-packed house. The last one up to see what made the noise was Brad, and what he saw was his frightened family, and a burglar. He stood, frozen. His dad was trying to reason, his mom was trying to calm his sister down. Yelling, demands, pleading, crying. He was confused until he finally heard a crackle through the house, which made him flinch. And again as he saw his own father collapse, bleeding. No. He didn't want this. He couldn't move. Nothing moved. But then, he watched his mother stand in rage, fury, and charge at the masked man. And she joined his dad on the floor. At that point, Brad moved. He couldn't let him get to his sister. It was his duty. He grabbed a pillow nearby in a rush, and ran at the burglar. Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was a flunk... But he managed to maybe kill him. He knocked him to the floor and immediately pressed the pillow onto his face. Then after a rough minute at best, it was still. No words. Brad grabbed his sister's hand and ran. Ran. But it was no use. There was an accomplice with him. No time to act, he managed to hit the second burglar's gunning hand and make him shoot off target, and beat him down right after.
"It was over." You'd expect that, but he heard her sister cough. And again. And again. Each time, a wet "splat!" hit on the cement ground. She'd been shot. He inadvertently made the burglar shoot her. Nothing was right. Nothing was good. Nothing was fine. He was supposed to take care of her. He picked up the pistol, and.....
Since then, Brad's been alone. He never went back. He kept the pistol, but ended up tossing it later on. He never called police. But they found out eventually, though not about him. A year passed, his mind and spirit filled with regret. He was on the brink of starving, dehydrating... it really is a miracle he's still alive. Though, he only wished that his family were still with him. He wanted to be together with them. Together.

Relic
Name: Binding Dominator
Shape: Right handed Glove
Link: Spear-tipped Chain
Substance: Mental Energy
Function: When active, a metallic, spear-tipped chain emerges from the palm of the glove, and can embed itself into a nearby being, without harming it somehow, thus 'binding' it to Brad. When bound, the being will have to follow what Brad orders. As a start, it can only bind to one being at a time, and the being must be in Brad's sight.

Danganronpa: Another School of Mutual Killing

Name: Tristan Rien

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Blood Type: O Positive

Nationality: American

Ultimite/SHSL: Ultimate Nobody

Appearence:

Personality: As his title says, he is a total nobody. Though he is a nobody, doesn't necessarily mean that he is anti-social. It just means that he can not fit in to any group or school that he goes to, no matter what he does or tries. Tristan is mostly optimistic when he is even trying to talk to someone, though mostly sarcastic and self-loathing at first whenever someone tries to talk to him. What he lacks in his social area is what he excels at in his intelligence and reasoning area. Though he is not a detective or any of the sort, he has decent reasoning skills and is confident in most cases, and would take brain-wracking things as a challenge. He would try his best in any sort of murder that would happen, though he is still a normal person. When in thought, he would almost never respond to anything said to him, as he just thinks in his inner monologue.

Strengths: Decent Reasoning, Intelligent, Somewhat Social

Weaknesses: Trapped in thought easily, Weak, Can't fit in

Likes: Quiet, Peace, Friends, Puzzles

Dislikes: Death (Duh.), Suspicion, Pressure, Stress, Rejection

Birth Town: Los Angeles

Brief Bio:

Tristan was born into a poor, but managing family, who he can not bare to lose, though he knows that they won't last forever. His school life was always tough on him. When he says tough, he really means boring and lonely. Whatever he has tried or done, talking to people, done something stupid, or plain trying to get someone's attention, he always ends up as some nobody who doesn't fit in. He's spent his school life without joining clubs, or socializing with people ever since he realized his unbelievable disability of being unable to fit in. Back to his family life, after he entered High School, his family has gotten unstable. His father is constantly disappointed in him for his 'nobody' ways, his older sister is one of the 'popular' line of people, and his mother has broken down into some kind of sickness. He usually spent his time locked in his room, shutting himself out of the world and his family as he tries to keep his sanity together. To humor himself, he constantly solves all the puzzles that he can find, old and new, which grew into a hobby. Nearing the end of his High School life, his mother succumbed to her sickness. He was devastated. For the rest of his High School life, he withdrew even more into his 'nobody' ways. His father became a drunk. His sister had already left for college. And then there was Tristan. Broken, he powered through the remaining time of his High School life, and finally graduated. For a while, he just locked himself in his room, alone with his thoughts and puzzles. Then the fated day came. His father was probably out somewhere, getting drunk on the street, so he was alone. When it came. Tristan went to check the mail, as he knew his father never did anymore, and it was only him who even considered doing it, and he found only one envelope in it. An invitation to Liberty Academy. He didn't remember signing up to any kind of academy. Nor did he consider even going to one. But he saw it differently than that. He saw it like a beam of hope that he would at least succeed at something. Meet some people, actually try to socialize, and... forget about his mess up of a family. Yeah, that's what he was going to do. What could go wrong? He was soon to find out.

So, I'm here! Gonna use the same character because I'm too lazy to think up another. Also, if the image doesn't show up, I'll fix it later.