Everything I learnt about NFTs have been non-consensual
2
likes
5 yrs ago
while(inDream=true) {otaku.salary()+=}
5 yrs ago
I don't know who this Boltzmann fella is but he owes me a physics test and a whole lotta trouble
5 yrs ago
Can someone please explain why my discords are on fire about this forum right now? I just woke up and I don't have enough coffee to read a bazillion status updates
Jay stared at the red number on her phone notifications bar go up. 27 unread emails from last week. 51 now. All from the same person. She hovered a finger over the reply button. "Auntie, please stop sending me... |". No, no. Not like that. The finger instead pressed firmly on the delete button. She grimaced and then elected to take another big swig from the jug of coffee.
The taxi driver gave a nervous flicker through his rear view mirror. "Haven't spilt any." She said, with a reassuring wave, cradling the jug tightly in her arms. Look, see. Secure. Totally in control.
The taxi driver was entirely unconvinced. Still, he had the courtesy enough to pretend to be convinced, proffering the non-sequitur, "You must be a big coffee drinker."
"Uh, yeah. I guess so." That was a lie. She didn't normally drink coffee. She didn't even like the stuff. Yet she had already went through several litres of the stuff ever since she picked up her first batch at the beginning of the trip, fingers drumming on the plastic lid incessantly as she felt it replace her blood stream twice over. It was probably better that way, since pounding headaches meant less time to think about - she reached for the word - disclosures. Disclosures that despite the world insisting on placing in her way, Jay would much rather ignore.
She opened her emails. 52. No, stop. She turned off her phone. Don't even go there.
Instead, Jay picked up the closest other thing by her side. The sleekly written letter that was written by the self-proclaimed "master of the mystic arts". All her basic intuition told her it was probably a cult - no, definitely a cult. Even with so many strange phenomena being rattled off on the media, even with her so called 'dreams' being unpleasantly...well, not dreams, her gut reaction slammed the verdict down. Magic, sure. Mystic arts? Delusional. Whatever. I've already gone off the deep end. Jay thought drily, eyeing the creepiest looking driveway to have ever been conceived. Hope at least the cult robes are cool.
The gravel growled beneath her shoes as Jay slid out of the cab. Gnarled tangles of roots and dead branches clutched at the driveway up to the mansion, which itself was comprised of broken planks and moss-eaten stone. A sighing old thing, crumbling under the weight of its own history...and something else, half-ineffable. The cab driver threw another quick glance at down the overgrown mansion in the distance, at the weird white-haired lady with a suspected coffee addiction, and made a wise decision to simply continue on his way. And Jay made a questionable decision to simply watch the cab scarper its way back past the greying foliage.
I'm definitely fine. Jay thought, then threw back her head and downed the rest of the bitter caffeine.
"Shrewd, discerning and alacritous, this one intends to last."
Lenicivus ves Cteline, "Lein" Former Helmsman of SSS Rochambeau Estranged of the Shardlands
Skills "Best Damned Helmsman" - Lein's good at steering those flying tubs; really good. His natural talents in astronautics, cultivated from early childhood in the wind tunnels of the Shardlands and most of his life spent behind the steering wheel all coalesce into an instinctual competence at any sort of vehicular navigation. Direct combat isn't necessarily his speciality, as his career as a smuggler has taught him to profit off running over mutineering. But when the chips are down and one needs an exit strategy, Lein will always be ready to fly.
Crossbow Marksman - Lein's primary role at hunting parties back in the Shardlands was the bait, but he was also trained in marksmanship to take down smaller enemies. By smaller enemies, it can either mean the occasional flying lizard, or the occasional raider foolish enough to appear down the iron sights.
Hardened Survivalist - Don't ask why he's taken up cooking or why he's good at finding food. He'll just going to laugh and say he'll never tell.
Equipment Arm prosthetic: A prosthetic of bone and rope, honed with a considerable amount of craftsmanship. It's not the prettiest around, but it makes up for the lack of polish with fine motor control as well as containing hidden compartments for a switch-blade and some poison pellets. Yvelin scarf: An enchanted scarf with a series of bells attached to the end of it. Given to Lein as per Yvelin custom, it has natural cleansing wards that filters any air passed through it. The bells chime at the presence of significant wind in a distinct pattern attributable for each scarf. Goggles: A goggle made of thick glass and leather. This one's well-worn but has since been a long time when it was last used. Gale-ripper crossbow: A steel-reinforced crossbow with low weight but high draw power. Its steel ammunition is designed to cut through wind and thick armour, but the tensile strength has since been toned down by Lein so as to not puncture ship hulls. Fancy tail brush: For the sophisticated and vain.
Weaknesses Arrogant and weak to flattery, he'll do much to prove himself as a competent pilot and take on dangerous tasks just to prove to himself that he could. Although his actual skill has kept up with his ego thus far, his constant compulsions for panache might just outlay his stakes... He has much repressed guilt over failing his duties as helmsman in the Rochambeau, and his ego is a manifestation of deflecting blame. For if one is supposedly flawless at their work, how could they have possibly caused such a calamity? Although he's also 'pardoned' for his crimes and he's so far only taken jobs outside the ire of the Navy, he's still on the hook for a number of charges. As long as he acts his part in being beholden to a nameless benefactor's beck and call, he's good in the eyes of the Navy. So long as he doesn't act out of order, that is...
Backstory Hailing from the flying islands of the Shardlands, Lein had long since understood the meaning of survival. He grew up watching his neighbors thrown into flesh-ripping wind-tunnels by local warlords, village islands being smashed to pieces by rampaging astral beasts, and entire tribes falling under the unfortunate vice of delisium abuse. His family was the few that kept to the old traditions, even if it meant being driven into the coldest, inhospitable parts of the Shardlands by ousting warlords that constantly fought for delisium geysers. The Yvelin have endured much suffering, Lein was taught, and they would endure as long as necessary. And it would be up to Lein to carry on the torch.
But Lein had different ideas. Ever since he had glimpsed at a stormless sky he dreamt of being taken up into the void and conquer the very edges of the horizons, travelling the world and seeing other worlds not filled with poisoned winds and screams in the distance. Although his carefree attitude and aptitude in gliding curried much favour with his tribe, he was always missing in important gatherings and celebrations. His aloofness conflicted with his family's priorities of preservation and tradition, and no amount of cajoling or berating could stop Lein from sneaking out from his storm-watching post to watch warships sailing to and fro. Such a friction came to a head when Lein became of age, when he rejected his rite of passage. He had seen what delisium did to others, and with delisium abuse slowly creeping into his own family, Lein instead chose to take his chances with a passing smuggling ship.
Thankfully, Lein's skills with the glider translated well into astral seafaring, quickly climbing up from a deckhand to helmsman. He never took to captaining ships and moved between ships and allegiances quickly. Nonetheless, he grew a small following of infamy from his navigational talents and tendancy to agree to the most dangerous heists. He eventually settled on The Rochambeau, which to his description, was the "dumbest bunch of hooligans saved by sheer luck".
Not much is known about Lein's last voyage on The Rochambeau - not the cargo, the objective, nor even its navigational history over the course of three months. All that is known is that a passing trading ship happened on The Rochambeau, run aground against a rocky cluster. Upon exploration, they found a dessicated corpse of a void Leviathan, entire crew emaciated from hunger and dead from delisium poisoning, and the arm bones of a Yvelin, picked clean. They also discovered an imprisoned Lein, clutching unto an empty vial of delisium in one arm and the other amputated and missing. Even under interrogation, Lein did not elaborate, simply stating that he had a "disagreement with the crew" and it "cost them more than it cost [him]". Afterwards, he was arrested for a rather staggering number or charges, but after a dubious bargaining plea and a couple smuggling runs under an unmarked banner, Lein was pardoned. What exactly he smuggled, Lein does not care to elaborate or even has cared to find out.
Lein disappeared from much of the smuggling scene, only to reappear with a prosthetic arm and acting as if nothing happened. Only, he ran mostly safe runs (still legally dubious but arguably deniable) and a motivation to accrue as much wealth as possible. After he heard of the blockade on the Shardlands, Lein asked around for a sponsor to break through the blockade and retrieve Yvelin refugees stuck inside, but with tensions running high between the militant forces within the Fragment, not much has come of it. Besides, he has shown a particular interest in delisium and a potential cure to its effects...
"On one hand, the mere existence of the Fragment that once used to be called the Shardlands is a miracle. On the other hand, none of its inhabitants would agree with you."
The atmosphere of the Shardlands is far less defined than other established Fragments, to the extent that the upper atmosphere is dominated by astral creatures. Astral energy readily filters all the way down to the surface, and the local flora and fauna have long since adapted to compete with astral beasts - giant burrowing bears and flying centipedes often have territorial fights in the mountains of the Shardlands.
What common logic of gravity seems to be reversed here, as landmasses tend to be tugged upwards by an invisible force, and floating islands held down by giant plant roots are a common sight. The geology is porous, with wind tunnels several hundred meters in diameter spewing powerful winds of dust and rock into the atmosphere. Traditional buildings that stretch across large tracts of lands is impossible here, and instead the local populace, the Yvelin, have instead developed a sporadic residence on the floating islands. 'Land traversal' is an impossibility in most circumstances; travel is often performed with hardened gliders and airships that ride the wind currents across the terrain. This, however, also makes the Shardlands an ideal place for shipwrights and astrologers alike to study the effects of void traversal - provided they find a safe place away from the violent wildlife.
The unfortunate history of the Shardlands is intertwined with the land's most abundant and arguably most cursed bounty, zephrite. Typically found deep underground, it is often carried by the wind Moulins to the surface atmosphere, where it reacts with the astral energy to create a potent drug-making material called delisium. In its raw form, it has a mild hallucinogenic effect as well as a temporary boost to one's physical and magical capabilities. Long term exposure or repeated use of delisium, however, results in psychosis and arcane corruption over the course of a few years. For several centuries, the Kurin have used the drug as both a form of innoculation against the corrupting effects of the void as well as a way to fight off the astral creatures. The imbibing ceremony at the Kurin's rite of passage is the most important event in their life, as it marks their coming of age but also shortens their lifespan to just under 50 years. The Kurin's life in an atmosphere saturated with delisium results in the their signature red hair as well as some natural resistance to the deleterious effects of delisium.
The more concerning form, however, is refined delisium. It significantly increases both the positive and negative effects of the substance, imbuing any users with enough power to perform extraordinary feats of both martial and arcane prowess. However, it also significantly hampers mental functions and drastically increases tendencies toward aggression and mania, as well as reducing one's lifespan to a few short years. When the refinement process first became known to wider public, the Shardlands were soon inundated with military presence both from the heartland empires from more established Fragments and criminal warlords vying for control over delisium geysers. The Yvelin populace have either become embroiled in the bloody conflict, have been pushed out to the most inhospitable corners of the Fragment, or worse, become delisium addicts.
The Shardlands as it stands is in a deadlock - the Yggdrasil has issued a blanket embargo on all delisium trade and a strict perimeter that restricts access to the Fragment, and remains a criminal safe haven that can slip through the security. The wider Yvelin diaspora, then, have remained locked outside of their own home Fragment, though few have ever made plans to return.
Build: Athletic Eyes: Gray-Blue Hair: White Tone: Olive
Personality
Scattered | Casual | Forgetful
In a chronic state of fatigue, Jay tends to be quite aloof in most situations, having trouble focusing and putting much energy behind much of her efforts. She's generally helpful and insightful, but tends to be the last to move and last to finish. Instead, she has a tendency to meander and indulge in curiosities before tackling the task at hand. Some might consider it a strength of hers, being meticulous, cunning and creative in her solutions. Others might consider it laziness and aimless frivolousness. Either way, people have quite the trouble discerning if she's distracted, daydreaming or actually paying attention at any given moment since she seemingly never has her eyes open.
Jay tends to hate formal situations with too many rules and has a distaste for any kind of competitiveness, resorting to disengaging with the situation when conflict heats up. She instead values quiet, solipsistic moments just hanging out at a park or admiring a scene, being surprisingly optimistic in most situations. She tends to have trouble conveying any serious emotions, and instead relies on jokes and avoidance to defuse situations she does not wish to be in.
History
As a young kid, Jay dreamt of becoming a public servant. She was told that her late parents were brave firefighters who gave their lives in the place of hundreds of others when a fire broke out in a factory. Taken in by her aunt, Jay grew up on stories of heroism and self-sacrifice (though tempered with a warning against dangers of fires). She participated in many of the school volunteering fairs; trying out for police schools, ranger cadets and junior firefighting programs, eventually settling on becoming a lifeguard.
Such a dream would be cut short when Jay's class was caught up in a sudden storm while swimming at sea. The sea was so volatile that most of Jay's classmates drowned - Jay only survived by being rescued by a lifeguard. Since that day, Jay was plagued with insomnia, unable to sleep and unable to focus on anything. She was hospitalized several times for her lack of sleep, but constantly refused medication or counselling when offered.
Yet Jay endured, in her own way. Though she had flagging grades in most of her subjects and had dropped any and all interests in her pursuits in public service, she still took on a couple odd jobs and jumped from part-time to part-time, making ends meet even after she moved out of her grandparent's house. She still kept a hobby of photography, and occasionally uploading her small travelogue with nighttime photos.
Jay's first encounter with her magic was when she had collapsed from exhaustion after work. She 'woke up' in a strange, shimmering reflection of the real world, and saw herself being carried unto an ambulance. For a long time, Jay thought she had finally lost her sanity, and even after she began to understand her magic as 'magic', Jay refused to use it unless absolutely necessary. Still, as she had done so with many obstacles before, Jay managed to repress much of her fears as she started to take an uncertain grasp over her abilities.
Equipment
+Phone +Several changes of clothes +Flash-light +Pocketknife +Neck-pillow
Magic
Jay is able to project a reflection of herself into the astral realm when sleeping or meditating. The astral realm can be understood as a sort of 'psychic reflection' of the physical world, filled with shimmering silver fog and translucent strings and where things normally hidden and suppressed are laid bare. When consciously entering the realm, she can move through physical barriers another impediments to gain access to information, and detect magic sources nearby. Projection tires her in the physical world, however, and over-exertion results in becoming stranded in the astral plane, becoming overtaken by the magical currents and unable to return to her body.
Haven't quite finished up yet but uploading here for review:
Jay Yu
"Take your time. We all have our day, some day."
25 | Female | 163cm
Appearance
Don't worry, she can see just fine.
Source: Fanart of AK-12 by @jgTone
Build: Athletic Eyes: Gray-Blue Hair: White Tone: Olive
Personality
Scattered | Casual | Forgetful
In a chronic state of fatigue, Jay tends to be quite aloof in most situations, having trouble focusing and putting much energy behind much of her efforts. She's generally helpful and insightful, but tends to be the last to move and last to finish. Instead, she has a tendency to meander and indulge in curiosities before tackling the task at hand. Some might consider it a strength of hers, being meticulous, cunning and creative in her solutions. Others might consider it laziness and aimless frivolousness. Either way, people have quite the trouble discerning if she's distracted, daydreaming or actually paying attention at any given moment since she seemingly never has her eyes open.
Jay tends to hate formal situations with too many rules and has a distaste for any kind of competitiveness, resorting to disengaging with the situation when conflict heats up. She instead values quiet, solipsistic moments just hanging out at a park or admiring a scene, being surprisingly optimistic in most situations. She tends to have trouble conveying any serious emotions, and instead relies on jokes and avoidance to defuse situations she does not wish to be in.
History
As a young kid, Jay dreamt of becoming a public servant. She was told that her late parents were brave firefighters who gave their lives in the place of hundreds of others when a fire broke out in a factory. Taken in by her aunt, Jay grew up on stories of heroism and self-sacrifice (though tempered with a warning against dangers of fires). She participated in many of the school volunteering fairs; trying out for police schools, ranger cadets and junior firefighting programs, eventually settling on becoming a lifeguard.
Such a dream would be cut short when Jay's class was caught up in a sudden storm while swimming at sea. The sea was so volatile that most of Jay's classmates drowned - Jay only survived by being rescued by a lifeguard. Since that day, Jay was plagued with insomnia, unable to sleep and unable to focus on anything. She was hospitalized several times for her lack of sleep, but constantly refused medication or counselling when offered.
Yet Jay endured, in her own way. Though she had flagging grades in most of her subjects and had dropped any and all interests in her pursuits in public service, she still took on a couple odd jobs and jumped from part-time to part-time, making ends meet even after she moved out of her grandparent's house. She still kept a hobby of photography, and occasionally uploading her small travelogue with nighttime photos.
Jay's first encounter with her magic was when she had collapsed from exhaustion after work. She 'woke up' in a strange, shimmering reflection of the real world, and saw herself being carried unto an ambulance. For a long time, Jay thought she had finally lost her sanity, and even after she began to understand her magic as 'magic', Jay refused to use it unless absolutely necessary. Still, as she had done so with many obstacles before, Jay managed to repress much of her fears as she started to take an uncertain grasp over her abilities.
Equipment
+Phone +Several changes of clothes +Flash-light +Pocketknife +Neck-pillow
Magic
Jay is able to project a reflection of herself into the astral realm when sleeping or meditating. The astral realm can be understood as a sort of 'psychic reflection' of the physical world, filled with shimmering silver fog and translucent strings and where things normally hidden and suppressed are laid bare. When consciously entering the realm, she can move through physical barriers another impediments to gain access to information, and detect magic sources nearby. Projection tires her in the physical world, however, and over-exertion results in becoming stranded in the astral plane, becoming overtaken by the magical currents and unable to return to her body.
Background: A laid-back kid who always sat at the back of the class, Cade would far earlier sleep or joke about training Pokemon than actually interact with them at all. The Lu household was an immigrant family to the region, and put high expectations on Cade to uphold the tradition of becoming elite trainers and walking the path toward challenging the Elite Four in the new region as well. Cade on the other hand, had no such desires, and deflected conversations by saying he was studying to become a researcher instead. Of course, such a facade slipped when they discovered that Cade was failing his school grades too, and soon he was kicked off toward Mercer where they had heard a certain Professor was willing to start young trainers on their journey.
Iris Delisi | Human | 25 | Loyal Neutral | Envoy of Eros
Skills:
Arcane Eye: Iris has a deeply rooted attunement with the magical field around her, allowing her to detect with some focus magical sources much like one would feel heat in the atmosphere. With enough focus and time, Iris can often draw a clear picture on the nature of a certain spell, though she may not necessarily know how to resolve them. Iris has cultivated this skill to help in her investigations, with a sharp eye for arcane meddling and puzzle solving.
Dispelling: What use is detecting magic wards if you cannot dispel them? Iris' anti-magic mostly pertains to defensive magic and active counter-spells, setting up stabilizing wards and defensive enchantments when treating her patients. Most of the more complex and ancient magic would be out of her league, but she can certainly help in resisting and weakening them. To Iris, this manifests as an ethereal tapestry, picking apart various currents and deflecting them to resolve a certain pattern or image in the air.
Short-sword proficiency: Iris has trained herself in outwitting and outmanoeuvring monsters and beasts that commonly roam the plains. Combined with a paralytic poison that often accompanies her attacks, she has so far found little reason to get in direct fights.
Flaws: Contractual Mistrust: Iris is polite enough, on the outside. She sticks to contracts and carries out her duty to the letter so long as she is not betrayed first. Outside her allies and those who she explicitly promised loyalty, however, is free game. Even within her circle, Iris would always have a corner of her mind reserved for an escape route in case things go awry. She mistrusts the Aasimar, humans, strangers and allies alike, but most importantly, herself. Loyalty and treachery is a conflicted notion between the vessel and the Envoy who inherited her instincts, and Iris' allegiances may change on a whim even she does not understand.
Mark of fealty: A blessing or a curse, depending on the viewpoint. A Delisi signature spell that binds the bearer to a certain person or House, compelling them to obey their every command as long as they speak an activation phrase in their presence. Iris knows that her mark has bound her to an unknown person, and hides her mark under her gloves.
Background: Iris' earliest memory is that of treachery. The Delisi House was a servant house of many Aasimar families, known for their unquestioning loyalty and devotion to their masters. Yet all Iris remembers of her childhood is her grandfather taking her away into hiding, fleeing through darkened alleys of Brudel and being smuggled through the night in order to escape surveillance of the ever-watchful knights of the city. She does not know why her grandfather stole her away from the relatively comfortable life of serving the loyal to a serving small apothecary in Gotha outskirts, nor did she know why her grandfather forbade her from even speaking with another of her household. This would stay with her even after her grandfather passed away.
Iris spent her days training as an apothecary, studying various illnesses and treating travellers, asking them nothing in return but to keep quiet about her presence and some information about the various goings-on about the Empire. Whenever she inevitably became too well known in the surrounding communities, she would move onto another town. Secretly, Iris also pursued any leads on her past, trying to dig up old leads from her childhood flight from her family. Yet most of her grandfather's contacts had gone silent for a long time, leaving Iris searching in vain.
Irony caught up with Iris, as she was killed by a bandit disguised as a patient. As her body became cold, a certain Envoy took to her resurrection. Iris was a strange choice for an Envoy of Eros indeed - but it was not her place to question such a choice, was it? Nonetheless, the revived Iris took some time to gather her own past, fragmented as it was, before setting off to the capital.
Class & Gear: Apothecary A combination of spell-casting and alchemy, Iris has a diverse range of potions under her belt. Much of her decoctions aim to heal the injured and counter diseases both magical and mundane, but she does have quite a library of poisons that can debilitate or disarm her opponents through acid and sleeping gas.
Her gear is pretty simple, comprised of a voluminous supply of various potions and medical equipment when her magic fails to solve the issue. Otherwise, a couple sets of clean robes and a small dagger is enough for her.
