Avatar of Descartes
  • Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 666 (0.17 / day)
  • VMs: 1
  • Username history
    1. Descartes 11 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Recently, the guild has had problems. Of course, so had the player. Between school, and life, and video games; the player had no real time for himself to watch his Mongolian motion pictures. "I just want to live in the database" he sighed. The bow continued tapping away at his key board, filling out a half-thought-out idea for a character which he would make for a game that he would probably abandon a month or two into playing if it didn't die out on its own before then. With his other hand, the player had his hand in his pants. It was an old habit, and as the saying goes; they die hard. As the player clicked away once more, however, something was different.

"God damn, did the server sleek out... Again?" he thought, kicking his computer tower lightly. Before he knew it, the player was awash with light. He was, for lack of a better word, euphoric. "Finally" he sighed "Database! Wow wow..."

Descartes had awoken, and fortunately not too broken. His clothing was dirty, in his pocket a token. Descartes stretched out to adjust to his new body. He kicked his legs and punched outward, his muscles not too shoddy. Though he wondered where he could be.
So... am I accepted?
Username: Descartes

Character nickname: Descartes

Gender: Male

Appearance: Enigmatic in nature, nobody actually knows the true form Descartes can actually take, many claiming him to be holding back the bulk of his power. He is most comonly seen, however, as looking like the historical figure in which his name derived. That is, he is a short Frenchman. His skin is fair and he is identified by his strong aquiline nose and short mustache. His hair is long and curly. Descartes typically wears a long coat with a white collar sticking out from it.

Personality: At a glance, many would believe Descartes to being incapable of speech. Some may even reject him outright because of how he usually comes off as flippant, or otherwise offensive and uncooperative. In fact, Descartes himself dislikes partaking in public discourse or conjecture, or at least the person in question calling himself Descartes does. When Descartes buckles up and decides to take up the pursuit that is "human interaction", he will do so in a nearly sarcastic manner. Descartes drops in and drops out at untimely intervals.

The character in question, that is, the persona in which the writer usually takes while using the handle of "Descartes" takes the form of an enigmatic man who speaks in riddles and rhymes. His speech will consist of a rhyme scheme that is AABA CCDD. Descartes switches, however, into free verse should he ever become angry. He is known to use innuendo; sometimes subtle, other times not very. Every now and again, he will say something that either makes a lot of sense or doesn't, depending on what perspective a person looks at it from.

Alignment: Neutral

Skills:
Before: Mountain climbing, bush crafting, wrestling, weight lifting, guitar, singing
After: Debate, philosophy, rhyme, rhythm, logic

Powers:
Give the D: If something is used against Descartes, he can protect himself by giving it the D. He can, for instance, if a fireball were thrown at Descartes, he can turn it into a fidreball, thus either negating the object, or turning it into a ball of fidre- whatever fidre means.
D manipulation: In addition to giving anything the D, Descartes can manipulate anything which contains the letter D. He can take control of a dragon, or even fully take control of himself, possessing a D in his own name.
Mind Body Dichotomy: Descartes can use a form of astral projection where his consciousness leaves his physical body, capable of looking around and scouting without being noticed. All the while, the physical body is still controlled, but acts in a primitive manner with slight jerking motions similar to that of a reptile.
D the D: Anytime during Descartes' rhyming, should there be alliteration in which the D sound is repeating, Descartes can create a large barrier shaped like a D or a projectile blade also in the shape of a D.
A crucible piece gained from The Elder Scrolls gave Descartes two powers.
Cognito Ergo Sum: Descartes achieves CHIM, allowing him to manipulate all nonsentient objects at a large scale, but only at a large scale. He can, for instance, change a jungle into a forest; but cannot change the design of a building smaller than three stories.
Muatra: He also acquires a spear which, although possesses a tip, in fact engulfs whatever touches said tip. Anything cut by the spear is sucked into some other space. Descartes can use this spear to drag enemies closer to him by removing the space between them.


Equipment: (All non-power/non-skill crucible/starter stuff goes here)

Other:

Hey guys, sorry if I had your hopes up or anything; but I'm going to drop this RP. It's just the time I spend away from home and the amount of text that piles up here when I do is a little overwhelming.
I didn't see he was sent off. Where?
The sun was too bright and everybody was looking at him. Rudolfo sat down and crossed his legs, his bones creaking in the process. "I'll be fine" he mumbled to himself as he looked out at his troops, all young, stupid, and impressionable; his "Bear" included. "If only I were forty years younger..." he grumbled.

The veteran slowly turned his head toward Gnarl. "Before you say anything" Rudolfo started "I'm gonna volunteer to watch the keep and protect the queen." Rudolfo used his sword as a cane to pick himself of the ground. He scanned through the masses of boars looking for those who were blatantly new and unbroken recruits. He knew in his heart that those were the ones who would... have the mot fun.

"Gnarl. Form for me two squads of your newest members. One of those squads stays with me over here to guard the keep. The rest will go with you." Rudolfo explained. In his head, he had formulated some kind of plan, not as much to handle the raiders, only to train his troops. "Keep your best men here to do as they please. It'd be a waste otherwise."

Rudolfo stroked his chin. "Now where's the Queen? I need to speak with her directly regarding our keep and my troops."
I've been a black belt holder in pipe bomb for quite some time.
It was parties like these that drove Rudolfo to drinking. Pretending he was enjoying himself, Rudolfo attempted to filter out what was going on around him. He only smiled as he slowly ate his meal of some kind of meat, with some kind of dressing. "This food sucks" he thought. "I want to go home. I miss my wife. My servants cook better than this. I wish I were outside, raping and pillaging."

Finished with his food and on his way to acquiring respite in the form of a hard alcoholic beverage, Rudolfo looked at the princess. "Why the hell were we hired to help this lady? Surely she doesn't trust us not to rape her in her sleep right?" Rudolfo wondered as he scratched his beard, which was worn nicer than he normally did. It was a low bar.

"Oh brandy. You're the only thing that understands me" he grumbled, uncorking a bottle of brown liquid and pouring it down his throat as if it were divine nectar.
Rudolfo grumbled as he slowly rolled out of bed. "Damn youngsters" he complained as he slowly threw off his sheets and got out of bed. Rudolfo was chilly in his sleeping clothes, primarily because he war little to none. The old man shambled to put on his suit of armor. With his armor on, the old man stretched out, his spine cracking in the process. Whatever spiel had happened the night before had woken Rudolfo from a pleasant dream. He was roaming down the fields, plowing through hordes of enemies clad in nothing but a codpiece and wielding a steel tipped spear. Through his beard, Rudolfo smiled.

Slowly, the grizzled veteran made his way to meet with the Bear. His platoon-mates and fellow mercenaries rushed besides and around him, too impatient to stop and smell the fresh morning air. Rudolfo, still hung over, could barely smell. He was angry, thirsty, and disappointed. Anger and thirst were probably just side-effects of his hang-over. His disappointment must have also been from the same source; but it surely was a genuine and deep sense of disappointment. Rudolfo looked sternly straight forward- or at least as straight ahead as he could.

The old stag stood at attention as he awaited a signal from Jorrick, as well as any orders the man might have. Rudolfo hated taking orders from those younger than he was, but had slowly become accustomed to it as there became less and less people older.
Wait. Are we in battle or not?
Are we getting an OOC soon or are you waiting for character sheets to roll in?
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet