Dinh AaronMk

The 'Character Sheet' as we know it needs to die.

@Dinh AaronMk i think you should add drive to that list, and then it's perfect

@Strange Rodent

Drive or intent sounds like something that can be divided for the later subject in that application - which I'd also call the character's biography or history - and the actions and narrative for that character in particular.

Writing mostly in Nation RPs with the same or similar format, sometimes I'll add a flag section for fun, but also in this format physical description is replaced with its location on the world map. But more often than not any goals or ambitions the current government has for the RP tends to be kindly included at the end without prompting. By being a history everything written in there would be factors that not only assure me of the context of that nation in the RP world, but also of past events which may be driving motivating factors.

But also being a state, and thus comprised of numerous autonomous actors the player has full writing control over any direction from it might come from the way they have the independent parts interact with one another and effect the course of the state, or the state's interaction with others.

And in much the same way that's how a single character can be motivated or moved about. Albeit they are their own independent actors. Pre-RP history for the character may determine why they are there, which may be the first motivation towards any in-RP motivation.

Mostly I believe much more should be given up to organic development in the RP itself, as it so happens in a story. If you put too much into an application it may trap you into the formalism of staying true to that, where as recognizing events and relationships can change how a character acts and behave and they can evolve from one state to another, and so too can their entire motivations.

What's Your Favorite Moment That Happened in an RP? (It can be either your character or someone else's!)

The time me and some friends crashed a resort hang out RP, summoning the apocalypse down upon it in search of a robot. The French GIGN were also called. The events ended on the beach in a rap battle.

The 'Character Sheet' as we know it needs to die.

Name
Physical Description
Background or even just reasoning why the character needs to be there

Work everything else out in the narrative.

My Mission to spam in 2019

With the absence of Mahz, we should set about the grand work of colonizing off topic discussion.

porn video

You remove dish obshenity right now.

[sniff]

ffs spam

get out of my special edition single-use pod casters chair I gotta put on my John face rn

Heaven is...

... for bimbo cat girls only.

What video game are you looking forward to in 2019?

Toby Fox rips open a hole in the time-space continium and drops a fully complete Delta Rune upon the virgin lap of the internet and I get to go feel s a d n e s s

The Vampire princes

Over the ink black sea and cast under the veil of darkness, the imperial city of Xelwyth rose over the waters, cloistered safely in behind a bay at a natural harbor, the waters were calmer than the waves that crashed about just beyond the rocky battlements of the cliffs and tumbled rock escarpments that formed the outer rim of the bay. Under the light of twin light houses the dark ship bearing the ancient, wealthy Semiane drifted into the wide bowl of the Mistborn Bay. Climbing up the gentle rise of the distant shore rose the imperial city, capping out at the high palace atop its horned spear at its distant end, flanked by the jagged teeth of young volcanic mountains. The City Under Twilight.

The crew on deck fluttered about the busy work of guiding the ship into port. The most dangerous point of a voyage being its beginning and end, and much more in a port operated by day and night seemingly without rest. The cautious sailors looked up, making religious signs for their protection as they looked on the vampire city with its sparkling night time lights. Among the cautious, the terrified, and the superstitious sailors stood the merchant Semiane himself, his hands folded in front of him. He wore from his shoulders elaborate fine robes, the latest fashions of the distant shores he came from. The wide brimmed hat he wore sagged to the side, an ornate ostrich feather weighing down with it. The shoulders and cuffs his uniform embroidered with pearls of ivory white, and oily black. He had taken to styling his beard, and he wore it parted, tied with vermilion strands.

He was regarded with rye suspicion among the men. Who was this man who had not stepped out into the light of day once doing here, looking dapper and dandy as a fuck in the early night moon gazing with warm expectation at the city they were drawing up on now. But here was Semiane's journey coming to an end, and here was his choice for further opportunity. How will the absolute protectionism of the Xelwyth Empire bend, or break under a new immortal emperor?

A sea of lantern light soon came to envelop the ship as it made its way through the waters. They attached themselves to the sea fearing vessel and after some exchanges with the captain proceeded to tow in the boat. Their oars pounding the dark waters as they labored it ahead and to the docks, where it was fastened with heavy lines to the pier.

Accompanied by the captain, a modestly dressed middle-aged man Semiane stepped foot into the Xelwyth Empire. A representative of the customs authority was quick to approach them, a clipboard with an attached candle in hand and a quill in the other. His pale flesh the consistency of yellowing bone, his eyes dark and deep set. He terrified the captain, whom Semiane could smell was becoming terrified. A mote of joy lit in his heart at the thought.

Dryly, the dock-side bureaucrat said, “Who are you, and what is your business in the Empire?” he spoke with defined contempt and bitterness.

“I'm a representative of the Scüddle, Caper, and Sons trading company.” Semiane said, “I've come on their behest to seek out any potential partnerships, and permission to establish a post in the Empire.” he added, handing over a small leather bound portfolio to the vampire.

With dry indifference he opened the papers and looked through, very quickly checking the individual pages. He hummed in the back of his throat, tsk'ing as he went. “Very well, sir.” he said, writing the details down and handing back the portfolio, “But in accordance with Imperial Edict 10,437 Section 105: all foreign business missions must pay the buisiness fee, and deposit on tariff payable to the amount of te-”

“Will the Empire accept a line of credit to be opened?” Semiane asked out of habit.

“Within the present millennium I think not.” the vampire said.

“Then I have the money, if I can have the recipet.”

The vampire looked at him cynically, and disregarding the comment turned to the captain, “And docking fees?”

He nodded.

“I trust I will have an opportunity to see the emperor?” Semiane asked.

“You will see him in time or a valid representative of the Immortal Master.” the dock clerk replied, “This is all, do you need to know where you might find residency?”

Semiane nodded, “If you'd be so kind.”

“You'll find a variety of hotels along the port street.” he began, but stopped momentarily, “Though a man of your caliber may better appreciate the accommodations along the Avenue Mortem.” he added, waving a clawed hand in the direction of the avenue, “They are normally reserved for the imperial nobility visiting the capital if a guest room can not be had in the palace. But I am sure they are open to you with a heavy enough purse.”

“Thank you.”

“When you finalize your accommodations, return its address to the port authority and we will prepare it in a dispatch to the palace and we will see how long they get back to you.”

The Vampire princes

A ship traveled across a ink dark sea. Trailing behind it the unraveling rope of its silver wake. Ruby sails, pregnant with the winds pulled the boat ever on wards into the sunset and towards a darkened land.

In the cabin a lime-green light glowed from within an oil lamp. Flickering faintly it combined with the fire light of candles to throw dancing shadows across the cabin wall as within the ship's passenger was stirring to wake, throwing off his covers and open the curtains. The dying light of the sun was ahead of him, and in the skies behind him out the window the sky was bright with the dying colors of day and the birthing shades of night. Oranges and reds gave way to purples and blues as the first stars shone bright in the sky.

In his cabin, Semiane was hardly alone. He had brought with him a portion of his harem. Still laying in bed, a pair of naked young girls lay curled around themselves. He brushed their pale arms with a finger and turned away as they stirred sleepily.

At a far dresser he threw over his shoulders a long blood red robe and wrapped it tight to hide his naked form. A long low sigh escaped his throat as he stepped to a table, where stacks of copied papers lay. These represented the collected knowledge the outside world had of the royal family of the Xelwyth Empire. He sat down at them, and meditated on his potential clients.

Zachaeus, Semiane found did not have that long a history to him. Despite ruling for a thousand years, to the nobility and leadership that lived outside his Empire scant was known, even though the known imperial vampire had reigned for a near millennium and seen so many lesser kings and emperors die around him. He was however peculiar to his race, a vampire that could tolerate the sun, and possessed great magics. It was supposed to Semiane that Zacheus' role was like that of a God, benevolent with terrible under tones. Few had sought to test him, and there was much ado about his terror when it had occurred. Much so to his staff. He put that aside for later.

Zachaeus' sons had much the same, though others better known.

His eldest, Ulrik was by far the most prestigious in the world by force of his character and accomplishments, turning the backwater duchy of the Great Weald into an admirable center of economic activity. Many had sought to deal with the baron directly, and lauded his ability. Though he was a known recluse and at odds with much of the rest of the family. Speculation abounded in the aristocratic rumor mills if the family was jealous of the baron who had accomplished so many times more than his peers in such poor country. There was considerable reason to believe among all that he would have been the heir to take control of the country when the vampiric god-emperor finally found himself a shriveled hulk after an over-ambitious vampire hunter finally managed to infiltrate his domain or so other calamity. Semiane could only imagine the number of plots that circulated in high courts to see a change of power, if simply to see the Empire shaken to its core and for it to partake in the dynamic power shifts that accompanied the rest of the world. Semiane could only see in confidence that only the damned gods could ever know the full scope!

But what was the divine to his race.

The others in the lot were known as half-breeds born from mortal women. Edward and Rory Bathory of note. Edward was commonly believed to be flat as a board, with a penchant for being knightly, but deluded in it. It was widely whispered that Rory was homosexual.

Semiane could divine no new information from the assorted information he had on the royal family which he found frustrating. And so far continued to primarily affirm his present predictions for the current political circus brewing in the Empire. That in the end – unless some other prince put himself on the board – the contest would ultimately boil down as a battle between Ulrik and Edward.

Semiane knew what he needed. First of all being a house. No good man went without a house. But this should be the easy thing to accomplish. On acquiring the house, and decorating it came time to insinuate himself into the society. A party, perhaps. Something grand and broad, with the largest crowd of the high society. An excuse to meet the princes themselves, talk, play match maker if they were unmatched. A salon later perhaps? That required he knew them at all.

And if it turned rough, if blood was let out: he was positioned to supply capital, make loans, purchase equipment, hire mercenaries. A third party that could delay collection on dues until late. He thought about his financial network, the many guilds and associations that still operated within his web. How many was it? He would need to send back for those if he wanted a count, but he could imagine. By the gods! Could he finance a full five wars? Six? He was tempted to undervalue...

There was a knock at the cabin door. He looked up as the young girls stirred. “What is it?” he called out in a deep throaty voice.

“Your honor, the captain would like to inform you we are a day's away from the Lands Under Twilight. We may be there by midnight tomorrow.” a page shouted.

“Very well, thank you.” Semiane called back.