DX3214 — Roleplayer Guild

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1. DX3214 6 yrs ago
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There will be only a few things you need to know and that I will tell
I am a guy
why are you interested in who I am?
it can be very easy to make a friendship but you need to learn how to handle someone with Asperger a spectrum of autism plus several mental issues.
and also I am a bit of a quiet guy sometimes Specialy after a while but if you manage to catch my attention I can be very close and talkative sometimes.

Most Recent Posts

In Escape from the Prison Mine → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

X

In Escape from the Prison Mine → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Color me super intrigued by this premise! Thought I would slide this in. I hope everything is alright within it. Tried to do something different. Let me know if I need to change anything or if it doesn't work. I'd understand. It's weird.


_______________________________________________
"Our consciousness cannot grasp its own end, despite being fundamentally conscious of death's inevitability. To understand it, is to experience it. And to experience it is to be unable to speak of it."
N A M E ⋮ Mortika MORT d'Arce
A G E ⋮ 102
R A C E ⋮ Elf
C L A S S ⋮ Necromancer

A P P E A R A N C E ⋮
Mort appears to be in her mid to late twenties, though the graying of her naturally peach-colored skin may tell a story that she's older than she appears. She stands no taller than a human but is not lithe nor dainty. She has broad shoulders that extend to strong arms, a body that has seen hardships, fingers that were once clawed at the end but have been clipped--yet they still retain that feline grace, and the legs of an acrobat. It's evident that she's had to pull herself out of situations through the will of her body alone.

Her hair is the color of a tidewater pool and just as glimmering. Though it may have lost its luster beneath the mines. Her irises are the hue of milky tea, not blending in with the bright sclera but counter to it. Her long ears are elven in nature and were once stamped with gold. Her nose is aquiline but reflects well on her sculpted face. A septum piercing at the end drips into her bow-shaped lips. Sharpened teeth are on the other end, cosmetic but still capable of doing damage if she bit into you. She walks with the confidence of a cat and the curiosity of a bear. There's no subtlety to her movements. They demand attention and get it.

P H I L O S O P H Y ⋮
1The ambiguous nature of the body may be formulated in a number of binary oppositions. The body is both the Same and the Other; both a subject and an object of practices and knowledge; it is both a tool and a raw material to be worked upon. The body appears to oscillate between presence and absence, most paradoxically in intense feelings — feelings as sensations and feelings as emotions. The body seems to be simultaneously the subject of highly articulated utterance and yet at perpetual risk of disappearing from our awareness.

   P E R S O N A L I T Y  
  P E R S O N A L I T Y   
Mort doesn't speak unless she is spoken to. Yet, she may take any passing comment as a formal address. She has a curt, sharp way of talking that doesn't do well to enamor her to anyone. She's quick to insult, and even quicker to laugh in most macabre situations. There's always something unsettling in the way that she acts. 

Yet, don't take that odd nature to be bravado. She's aware of lines, and she draws them in the still sands of her mind. She's gotten by in her life by pretending to follow the moral compass that everyone holds aloft as being even brighter than the sun. Only in the dredges of civility will she let loose the thoughts that bubble in her brain. She also has a tendency to talk to someone named Bertrand. It's hard to tell if he's a ghost, a figment of her imagination, or a tactic to unsettle those around her. She's creepy--yes--but you have to ask yourself how much of that is an act to be left alone.

Also also really likes to rattle off about philosophy.
   B A C K S T O R Y  
  B A C K S T O R Y   
 Mort couldn't begin to tell you how other elves act. What their lands are like. What beliefs that her people subscribe to. What she knows is that she grew up in the cult of Messengers of the Black Sign. Born on a fortuitous day amidst a wellspring of a blight. Neither of her parents were elven, and as such, were not her blood and flesh. Yet, she did not belabor that fact. They cared for her and loved her like any would their child. She was held up as royalty within the small cult that had settled in the swamp town of Torniko. Torniko had sunk ten times over, and each time the cult had rebuilt the town on the wreckage of it. It was the Message's Will. It wanted them to be here. So, underneath it were catacombs that housed not only its previous denizens but its culture and knowledge as well. A wealth of information that Mort endured the perilous adventure to drink up in her youth.

What did the Messengers of the Black Sign believe in? Well, they believed in the nature of the body, and the sheer confoundingness of its binary nature 1. The Black Sign was a map on how to form a bridge between the Same and the Other and create a being that is aware of both its body and its spirit at the same time. And what they discovered was the only way to achieve that, to achieve enlightenment, was to supplant the soul back into its body after it had departed. Like being born anew in the flesh that is familiar. The spirit has already perceived what it can without the body. So reunited with the body, it could perceive multitudes.

That's how Mort came to know necromancy. And it's fair to say her entire ideology and the town's worship of such a belief was quite the black mark upon them. They were attacked in the middle of the night, the village burned as its denizens slept. Mort had been away in the catacombs, looking for an old manuscript she'd seen in her youth. When she emerged from the depths to all the death and carnage, something in her snapped. So, she summoned up her abilities and awoke the now-dead cultists to fight on her behalf. As revenge? Maybe. One couldn't say she was powerful, more than she had the numbers to create a distraction and flee the ruins of Torniko. Rumors would say that she killed them all and danced on their bones. The reality was that a few were scratched and scraped, but the only ones left dead were the villagers.

So, Mort ran, and ran, and ran, and found companionship in new faces that she met. Slowly, she started to build back up the cult, becoming its matron--its princess. They hadn't done anything wrong, but probably holding service in the catacombs, speaking of raising corpses, and "fixing" the duality of their nature by dying didn't sit well with people. So, of course, she'd be caught, shackled, and thrown into the mines. Who was she hurting? No one, she thought. But some higher power probably took offense. They always did. So, here she was sent to rot. Ten years grinding away at gold, and quite content to defame it with her fingers.
   A B I L I T I E S  
  A B I L I T I E S   
NECROMANCY: The only magic that Mort can tap into. While the goal of the cult was to create lich-like creatures out of its members, she really can only bring up mindless denizens to do her will. The fresher the corpse, the harder it is to control. Animals are easy, and her preferred method if they are around for her to use. She can also sense the life force around her, allowing her to see enemies before they see her. Unless they have ways of masking it.
SPEAK WITH THE DEAD: Part of her necromancy, Mort has the ability to speak with the spirits that are sans their bodies. She can't converse with ones that have moved on, ones that don't wish to speak to her, or those that she doesn't share a language with. While she can passively see ghosts that wish to be seen, it takes quite a bit of effort to actually speak with the ones that she's not established a previous report with. And even then, some spirits can hide from her, and make it so that she's not aware of their presence.
ANATOMY & PHYSIOLOGY: It's not a medical version of this, per say, but it is knowledge of the body and how it functions. She could probably diagnose a broken bone, and tell you how to put it back into place. But she isn't going to tell you how to fight infection, staunch the bleeding, or deal with the pain. 
ARCANE KNOWLEDGE: Mort read a lot, and a lot of that reading was about magic. Again, she can't perform anything beyond her necromancy, but that doesn't mean she can't read magical symbols or mystical languages.
@psych0pomp

Great a sorceress and a necromancer this definitely will not cause issues lol


_{_______________________________________________} ^{"Our consciousness cannot grasp its own end, despite being fundamentally conscious of death's inevitability. To understand it, is to experience it. And to experience it is to be unable to speak of it."} _{N A M E ⋮ Mortika MORT d'Arce A G E ⋮ 102 R A C E ⋮ Elf C L A S S ⋮ Necromancer A P P E A R A N C E ⋮ Mort appears to be in her mid to late twenties, though the graying of her naturally peach-colored skin may tell a story that she's older than she appears. She stands no taller than a human but is not lithe nor dainty. She has broad shoulders that extend to strong arms, a body that has seen hardships, fingers that were once clawed at the end but have been clipped--yet they still retain that feline grace, and the legs of an acrobat. It's evident that she's had to pull herself out of situations through the will of her body alone. Her hair is the color of a tidewater pool and just as glimmering. Though it may have lost its luster beneath the mines. Her irises are the hue of milky tea, not blending in with the bright sclera but counter to it. Her long ears are elven in nature and were once stamped with gold. Her nose is aquiline but reflects well on her sculpted face. A septum piercing at the end drips into her bow-shaped lips. Sharpened teeth are on the other end, cosmetic but still capable of doing damage if she bit into you. She walks with the confidence of a cat and the curiosity of a bear. There's no subtlety to her movements. They demand attention and get it. P H I L O S O P H Y ⋮ ¹The ambiguous nature of the body may be formulated in a number of binary oppositions. The body is both the Same and the Other; both a subject and an object of practices and knowledge; it is both a tool and a raw material to be worked upon. The body appears to oscillate between presence and absence, most paradoxically in intense feelings — feelings as sensations and feelings as emotions. The body seems to be simultaneously the subject of highly articulated utterance and yet at perpetual risk of disappearing from our awareness.}	_{^{P E R S O N A L I T Y P E R S O N A L I T Y}} ^{Mort doesn't speak unless she is spoken to. Yet, she may take any passing comment as a formal address. She has a curt, sharp way of talking that doesn't do well to enamor her to anyone. She's quick to insult, and even quicker to laugh in most macabre situations. There's always something unsettling in the way that she acts. Yet, don't take that odd nature to be bravado. She's aware of lines, and she draws them in the still sands of her mind. She's gotten by in her life by pretending to follow the moral compass that everyone holds aloft as being even brighter than the sun. Only in the dredges of civility will she let loose the thoughts that bubble in her brain. She also has a tendency to talk to someone named Bertrand. It's hard to tell if he's a ghost, a figment of her imagination, or a tactic to unsettle those around her. She's creepy--yes--but you have to ask yourself how much of that is an act to be left alone. Also also really likes to rattle off about philosophy.} _{^{B A C K S T O R Y B A C K S T O R Y}} ^{Mort couldn't begin to tell you how other elves act. What their lands are like. What beliefs that her people subscribe to. What she knows is that she grew up in the cult of Messengers of the Black Sign. Born on a fortuitous day amidst a wellspring of a blight. Neither of her parents were elven, and as such, were not her blood and flesh. Yet, she did not belabor that fact. They cared for her and loved her like any would their child. She was held up as royalty within the small cult that had settled in the swamp town of Torniko. Torniko had sunk ten times over, and each time the cult had rebuilt the town on the wreckage of it. It was the Message's Will. It wanted them to be here. So, underneath it were catacombs that housed not only its previous denizens but its culture and knowledge as well. A wealth of information that Mort endured the perilous adventure to drink up in her youth. What did the Messengers of the Black Sign believe in? Well, they believed in the nature of the body, and the sheer confoundingness of its binary nature ¹. The Black Sign was a map on how to form a bridge between the Same and the Other and create a being that is aware of both its body and its spirit at the same time. And what they discovered was the only way to achieve that, to achieve enlightenment, was to supplant the soul back into its body after it had departed. Like being born anew in the flesh that is familiar. The spirit has already perceived what it can without the body. So reunited with the body, it could perceive multitudes. That's how Mort came to know necromancy. And it's fair to say her entire ideology and the town's worship of such a belief was quite the black mark upon them. They were attacked in the middle of the night, the village burned as its denizens slept. Mort had been away in the catacombs, looking for an old manuscript she'd seen in her youth. When she emerged from the depths to all the death and carnage, something in her snapped. So, she summoned up her abilities and awoke the now-dead cultists to fight on her behalf. As revenge? Maybe. One couldn't say she was powerful, more than she had the numbers to create a distraction and flee the ruins of Torniko. Rumors would say that she killed them all and danced on their bones. The reality was that a few were scratched and scraped, but the only ones left dead were the villagers. So, Mort ran, and ran, and ran, and found companionship in new faces that she met. Slowly, she started to build back up the cult, becoming its matron--its princess. They hadn't done anything wrong, but probably holding service in the catacombs, speaking of raising corpses, and "fixing" the duality of their nature by dying didn't sit well with people. So, of course, she'd be caught, shackled, and thrown into the mines. Who was she hurting? No one, she thought. But some higher power probably took offense. They always did. So, here she was sent to rot. Ten years grinding away at gold, and quite content to defame it with her fingers.} _{^{A B I L I T I E S A B I L I T I E S}} ^{NECROMANCY: The only magic that Mort can tap into. While the goal of the cult was to create lich-like creatures out of its members, she really can only bring up mindless denizens to do her will. The fresher the corpse, the harder it is to control. Animals are easy, and her preferred method if they are around for her to use. She can also sense the life force around her, allowing her to see enemies before they see her. Unless they have ways of masking it. SPEAK WITH THE DEAD: Part of her necromancy, Mort has the ability to speak with the spirits that are sans their bodies. She can't converse with ones that have moved on, ones that don't wish to speak to her, or those that she doesn't share a language with. While she can passively see ghosts that wish to be seen, it takes quite a bit of effort to actually speak with the ones that she's not established a previous report with. And even then, some spirits can hide from her, and make it so that she's not aware of their presence. ANATOMY & PHYSIOLOGY: It's not a medical version of this, per say, but it is knowledge of the body and how it functions. She could probably diagnose a broken bone, and tell you how to put it back into place. But she isn't going to tell you how to fight infection, staunch the bleeding, or deal with the pain. ARCANE KNOWLEDGE: Mort read a lot, and a lot of that reading was about magic. Again, she can't perform anything beyond her necromancy, but that doesn't mean she can't read magical symbols or mystical languages.}

In Escape from the Prison Mine → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

X

In Escape from the Prison Mine → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@DX3214 if you have something in mind, post it here I suppose. If someone else has a really compelling concept for that class, it may be worth deferring to that, but I don't have a problem if two people are the same class. It would be boring if everyone was a mage or something, but I doubt that will happen.

Saiyan is thinking of an alchemist character, by the way, in case anyone else had that in mind.@Zapdos

Its just that i am used to making a bit of a party balance after a few rps in dms with friends so i am wandering if we are organising or just going with what we like.

dibs on sorcerer btw.

In Escape from the Prison Mine → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

are we organising which classess we are grabing or we just throwing caution to the wind grab what you want?

In Escape from the Prison Mine → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks

hmmm interesting

In All about role plays maps (world, town, dungeon) → 2 yrs ago Forum: Roleplaying Discussion

I like making maps especialy for rps but... my drawning skills for then can be described as lacking.

In Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words → 2 yrs ago Forum: Roleplaying Discussion

Death by dice.

In Re:Divinus VII → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Oa’qeisskesi

Oa’qeisskesi stood in the tower sitting on her throne looking over the palace where her hounds had been laying in the distance her guardian had been keeping a watch over the valley. Things had gone quiet, extremely quiet in the world the gods seemed absent thinking she soon realized why Homura called her. Oa sighed a bit rising from her throne as she walked down the steps she then said. “Time has come for work…” Rising up her tower, a castle and fortress of great magnificence in the middle of nowhere arriving in the upper limits of her bastion she could easily see the heavenly sky. 

The sun shined brightly looking down she could sense the dark sun below glowing feeding and growing she cracked her head for a moment saying. “let us see.” her hands seemed to crack with electricity as she raised her arms up a large beam of light was cast upwards thunders echoing through the world. As from the north a great glow seemed to emanate from the northlands in the steppes past mountains, rivers and seas.

As Oa’qeisskesi concentrated the energy she felt unemotional as ever as the energy finally disappeared from her hands as a giant glow remained in the sky she then said. “Well this will help.” She looked over the lands as she lowered her arms as she did. The silence was deafening in the surrounding area.

Standing on top of the palace she quickly raised her hand with a snap of her fingers. The light flashed down creating a giant vortex in the air as lost spirits, ghosts, and souls without an afterlife were immediately drawn to it from across the entire planet. Some light moths to a flame and their doom others draw against their will like being dragged by chains being flushed through the vortex they all soon found themselves converging into a single energy beam going through the Sihu’rysai passing behind her throne and feeding straight into the abyss itself as the energy fueled it Oa watched it through the bridges overwatching the abyss she could feel the gates now being finally opened as she said. “And the bridge keeper must now keep a watch.”

Oa raised hand as the Glaive that Ashvelen gave to her holding with both hands she imbued part of her power into it merging with it. As the dark flames consumed it the blade changed a bit, its symbol becoming one of a sun with an obsidian mark and a small cloth of red hanging from its top balancing in the air she soon hit the ground with it as the room the impact caused a quake she soon shouted. “ARISE!” from the main pool where the dark sun shined and beat like a heart at its edges thousands of creatures began to come from the pool, some sapient, others not so much.

Oa’qeisskesi looked below as her family finally began crossing “They will call then Abyssal spawn in time…” she uttered under her breath but soon the dark sun said. "But shall we care for their concerns when we have ours?" Oa'qeisskesi gave a nod, as they began crossing from in many shapes in forms walking through the passages and heading already to the surface as the soul vortex collected the souls of those not lucky to have a god to help.

Oa'qeisskesi creates a vortex to consume all souls straight into the abyss to fuel the gateway. At the same time she creates the abyssal spawn as residents from the abyss begin to cross into the world to start populating .

In Re:Divinus VII → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

Oa & Anath Homura

Summoned II

Oa’qeisskesi stood in the middle of a dark pool outside the castle putting her hands into it. She let the energy within her begin to turn the pool into a passage in the abyssal realm using her strength; the energy was done cracking her head she backed away for a few meters she then said in her tongue. “Arise dark defender for i need thy protection” with the shaking of the ground the pond soon had a giant pawn emerge and crack the dark landscape with the impact and soon another emerged pulling itself from the pond came glowing with blue glowing spots, claws tall as elephants, and a face with a split mandible and a thousand eyes with its hair being thousands of twisting tentacles its hinds legs soon emerged as the pong seemed to disappear as it came into the world howling into the sky. Turning to Oa’qeisskesi it then said “Queen of the abyss… it has been long” “It has… many things delayed me, luckly now we can start work on the rest, for now i need you to keep watch over Sihu’rysai i got a few too many intrusions already.” “As you wish for my queen.” The titan replied beginning to patrol the lands around Sihu’rysai sighing in relief Oa’qeisskesi returned in flight to the palace going to its top past the clouds were the night sky lights shined in her room she then said “One less worry for now…” she soon laid on a bed made out of obsidian and she sighed relaxingly in the moment seeing the stars.

“Oa’qeisskesi, I would speak with you.”

The calling of the Creatrix was accompanied by the arrival of a silver shimmering portal above the abyssal deity. An abrupt invitation. Oa’qeisskesi lifted from her bed seeing the portal she sighed saying “What’s a woman gotta do to have a century of peace it has been barely twenty years.” standing in the room she was less than happy saying “What do you want now?”

The silver portal rippled, like a pond after a tossed stone pierced the surface. There was no reflection upon its distorted shape, despite the silvery sheen, and instead the almost-mirror seemed to stare at Oa’qeisskesi. Little limbs spread along the sides, reaching out like sharp rays of sunlight.

“Step through, and I shall speak of my want.”

Oa’qeisskesi looked extremely suspicious but rolled eyes saying “Fine…” she soon stepped inside the portal. The silver shine seemed to become a bit distorted due to her presence.

Through the calling portal; a colossal circular chamber awaited Oa’qeisskesi, and at the center, upon an ornate throne, was Anath Homura. Almost identical in appearance to Pyrrha, the avatar of the Hanged One, there were a few major and minor differences: The Creatrix had a single ruby-red eye with the second socket being replaced with a white flower, and she had an additional set of arms that held artifacts in each hand; a coin and a mirror. The most prominent difference to those that were deities would be the presence of power.

She whom conjured the cosmos, and called all amongst the pantheon to this world.

“Be welcome, Oa’qeisskesi. I apologize for interrupting your rest.”

Oa’qeisskesi stood in the room her shadow was tall in the walls as she looked around the room her eyes seemed to scan the area for any sort of surprise that might happen she then said “So you are the queen of this world?”

“I am Anath Homura, and I wove this world together. I shaped the sacred vessels with which your hands hold, and pour forth the power to further cultivate the cosmos. I have summoned you here since you remain awake and animated, thus you shall receive a reward: What do you wish for, Oh Wielder-of-the-Abyss aspect?”

	Oa’qeisskesi was confused looking at Homura she then said “Interesting call… the gates of the abyss will stand even if I disappeared. But without a gate keeper i think you would ask for a new one to take the mantle” she soon crossed her arms thinking. After a moment she then said “Well how about something that lets me have a eye on who is closing in on my home it's not like i care what they do as long it isnt to my family or me”

“You wish for security then. Are you afraid of an attack?” Anath Homura asked, as she tilted her head like a cat looking at a spool of yarn with calm curiosity. The entire chamber contrasted with her serene shape, as it constantly shifted and stirred - almost alive.

“I wouldn't say much i am afraid of attack just trying to learn where the others will be since i can’t know what they plan or if they are planning a attack or harming my family” She said crossing her arms to her Oa seemed to express some gestures of emotion yet her face and somewhat of her body seemed to show she was rather stone cold.

“Ashevelen has said that your existence is a threat to all life. Why would she speak such of you, Oa’qeisskesi?” Another question posed by Anath Homura, as she slowly held her hands outwards and gracefully gestured for Oa to come closer.

	Oa seems unphased by the accusation she crossed arms and then said “they call me what they want. I don't care, I only wish for the security of my family… it's all i have” Beside her the black sun stood he then said “She seems a bit curious i feel like we should lie” Oa only seemed to roll eyes for a moment.

“I wish for the security of my family too. I do cherish all of my beloved children…” The Creatrix crooned, and continued to beckon to the abyssal deity, asking her to approach. Her ruby-red eye glittering like a cosmic gemstone bathed in celestial radiance, ethereal and earthly, eternal and ephemeral. A perpetual paradox that peered at the abyss.

	Oa seemed doubtful but approached she then said “If you are afraid of anything I do there is nothing to worry about…” Oa stopped at the steps of her throne her shadow seemed big in the room and there seemed to have eyes looking through it.

“I am afraid for my family, and not of my family, Oa’qeisskesi. I am Mother of the Hanged One, an aspect I gave as a goddess to my divine daughter. I intend to… have her returned to me.” Anath Homura said solemnly, small and slender yet similar in size to the shadow, still sitting with peaceful poise. Her hands still stretched outwards, reaching towards Oa with regal tenderness.

	Oa gave a sighed nod she then said “I understand why you do it… your daughter is safe if you worry about her. I do not seek destruction where I march for the sake of destruction.” Oa continued with her emotionless stare for a goddess she seemed rather more like a sickly being due to her pale skin and shining blood red eyes seemed more like it would cause curses rather than blessings she seemed to turn around and walk away she then said. “I am not a mother but i can know how it is to wish to protect one's family…”

“You would walk away from me?” The goddess gently asked.

Oa seemed to wave to her saying “I am not in the mood for being judged on my intentions… It's the third time this divine week that someone is asking this to me and I already answered.” she continued to walk away.

“Always away, Oa. Hmm… Anath mian yhe rahosooa naeceys.” The Creatrix replied, conjuring a portal, and allowing the abyssal deity to depart.

Oa seemed to freeze on her tracks turning her head back she still seemed without emotion before saying “Thiseoiss yhe…”  she continued walking after a while she then said “good luck too…”

Oa creates an immense creature to guard her realm.

Anath Homura summons Oa to Keltra and the two talk about family.

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