ERode

Enter: Into an Isekai World

Optimal speed for me is always gonna be a one week post cycle with a relatively strict deadline on when the GM posts. The longer the RP goes on for though, the more willing I am to stick around so long as the plot's still moving, regardless of the speed of incoming posts.

Enter: Into an Isekai World

Alright, ye, figured this was gonna be the case.

If we're talking with diversity of backgrounds and personality in mind, Dark Cloud, your app's probably more competitive than you think it is, due to the prevalence of relatively chill individuals already present in the Characters tab. And the color code shit's purely from the GM's CS code lol.

So hey, if ya want, ya still got time to sharpen up the CS before TGM rings the bell.

Enter: Into an Isekai World

It's finished. Guess now we just wait for the others to come filing innnnnn.

Enter: Into an Isekai World

Kaneko Ohta

Kaneko Ohta

“Lemme think on that.”

Overview

---

_Name

Kaneko, Ohta

_Age

19

_Gender

Male

_Occupation

Office Worker

Characterization & Conceptualization

---

_{What Do They Look Like?}

Ohta’s sallow skin and gray eyes give off the impression of someone who had aged beyond just the nineteen years he had lived so far, and that issue is compounded by how his eyes are perpetually half-open, bagged with dark circles. A heaviness clings onto his frame, grounding him to the earth even as he breaks into a sprint to catch the last train home. Deliberate in his movements, careful in his language, there’s a constant sense of slowness with him. His slender hands are often stained by pencil smudges or ink stains, while his brown hair gives off the impression that he’s just gotten out of bed, regardless of how long he actually spends in bed. At a height of 5’7, with a diminutive frame that naturally hunches into itself, Ohta’s just another face in the crowd, another file in the company’s folder.

The fingernails on his left hand are cut painfully short; the ones on his right feature deep crescents.

_{What Are They Like?}

Ohta watches, listens, and keeps his thoughts to himself.

Introverted, he’s made it a habit to repress his emotions out of necessity, keeping people at a distance while he plugs along with his tasks. It’s convenient, to be thought of as a cold person, a distant person, so that’s what he leans into. Praise or encouragement for the work he does is strange, after all, and having coldness and distance be the norms for his attitude means that he can bow out of drinking parties without it being remarked upon. It’s good if people just think of him as naturally strange, an overly serious, boring anomaly of a youth. And if people begin thinking about him that way, that would create a Pygmalion effect. If he was perceived of as serious and hard-working, that’s what he could become. If he was perceived of as cold, he would not be hot. And if he was not hot, then he was not…

…passionate, desperate, and so, so, so furious. At the lost twilight of childhood. At the decisions others made. At the burdens he bore alone. At the costs of living for two, when only one brought in income. At the days that never seemed to end. At the assignments that he took so his managers kept him around. At unfairness, built into the very grain of the machine he served. At powerlessness, only able to fold inwards rather than lash outwards.

But when he finds the time to meet her, Ohta figures that he could remain cold, just a little longer.

He can’t meet her anymore.

_{What's Their Story?}

Duty. Responsibility. Obligation.

At 18 years, on the cusp of graduation, Ohta came home to his family’s three room apartment suite to find it empty. The lock had not been broken. No sign of anyone rummaging through cabinets or shelves. The housewife next door saw the silhouette of his parents at 11:30 AM. They had left no letters, only taken what was theirs and disappeared. He was numb when he picked up Tamimi from school. He was lying when he told her they would be back. If he’d known what was coming, he’d have been a better student. Had picked up skills on his own time. Invested in crypto, started a Patreon, made a Soundcloud, done anything. But he hadn’t.

Strangers came two nights later. Loan sharks. He hid in the bathroom with his little sister. In the morning, it was obvious why they had come. As obvious as paint and pigs’ blood could make it.

Ohta missed out on his graduation. He pawned off most of what remained in the home. Sat on the money for a while. Considered his options. Decided that he didn’t trust his relatives more than he trusted the government. Had a chat with the men that his parents borrowed money from. Decided that it was better to lie again. Orphaned Tamimi.

Her parents were dead. He would work to pay off their inherited debts. After that, they should be able to live together again. Just four years, no, three. They can live together in three years. And then, once again, they can dream.

Office work with only a high school diploma was a miracle with a steep cost, but Ohta paid the cost regardless. Paid it with his body and his mind and did so willingly. Willingly? Out of necessity. Debts to pay. Costs to pay. Rent to pay. Utilities to pay. His cheap suit hung from his body; he was losing weight. His eyes could never focus and always itched; he was losing sleep. His life slipped away even as the days never seemed to end; he was losing time.

Sometimes, he found himself standing in front of the office of those loan sharks, a cheap lighter in hand.

Sometimes, he found himself alone with his boss, nails biting into the flesh of his palms.

But he had a duty to fulfill. A responsibility he could not abandon. An obligation to realize the dream he had spoken of.

The decision is no longer his to make.

Now, Ohta can only pray.

_{Why Did The Wish Choose Them?}

Righteous and dedicated, a person who could endure the weight of the world, who could think to dream still, no matter how many times he had to rearrange, reimagine it. An idealist who would contort himself to whatever shape necessary to realize his goals. A man who would sacrifice what he loves for who he loves. A hero, perhaps, who would work within the boundaries of whatever society he existed in, no matter how much he hated it.

That was what the wish was drawn towards, a hero who could draw back his instincts and ruminate longer on the consequences of swift action. But…

_{What "Hero" Will They Embody? Why?}

…the wish did not realize that such restraint was found in a sense of powerlessness. A sense that drove an earnest, crushing desire for power. For might. For the ability to break, rather than bend, to inherent unfairness, enforced bondage. Magma rages beneath the permafrost, willing, always willing to surge out and burn everything to ash.

Ohta is willing to sacrifice, but he’s just as willing to take, whether with words or with violence. So long as he can get away with it. So long as it gets him closer to his goals.

He does not want to endure. He wants to fight.

_{What Belongings Will They Take With Them?}

A business suit. It does not fit well, and the tie is a boring blue-with-gray-stripes.
A smartphone. The battery is at 53%, and it holds an agenda of meetings and deadlines that no longer matter.
A Tupperware container and chopsticks. Barley rice, mixed with corn. A preserved plum sits in the center.

Talents & Abilities

---

_{Mundane Talents}

Ohta was an acoustic guitarist, but now, he's just a run-of-the-mill office worker. Administrative tasks and note-taking have become second-nature to him, and he can enter data and make calculations with a swiftness expected of someone who's gotten accustomed to their job. He learned to sew on his own time, first to patch the holes in his clothing, then in hopes of making a gift for Tamimi.

He doesn't care for it, but he understands business etiquette.

_{Achieved Abilities & Knowledges}

His efforts have achieved nothing.

Dawn Beyond Tomorrow: A Magitech distant postapocalyptic action-adventure RP

Shotgun Blasting Medic on Wheels

Oribara Senjoushi

_{18 y/o | Male | Trailblazer}

💪

Well-built and 5’9, Oribara’s got an aggressive look to him, from his dynamically bold eyebrows to his blade-sharp tattoos. His complexion is a tanned olive, and his ears are pierced, filled with whatever metal accessories he feels like for the day. There is certainly an aesthetic that he prescribes towards, one that’s as visually loud as he’s verbally loud, and Oribara makes no attempt to hide his disdain for anything that cramps his style. Power Armor? PPEs? Weather-appropriate clothing? Fine suits? Fuck that noise, brother. Muscle training makes up for not having to stuff yourself into those metal coffins, that’s for sure, and if you can’t shrug off a bullet or a dozen, you were never cut out for artifact hunting to begin with.

Personality
There is no universe where Oribara Senjoushi has an inside voice. Loud and brash, he adheres to the idea that stealth is optimal, but optimal never happens. As such, when delving through the ancient ruins of the previous era, Oribara is loud as fuck for the sole purpose of sussing out any creatures that might be hostile to others. He’s a failure as a Trailblazer if he doesn’t identify what living threats there are in the environment, after all! That sort of audacious loud-mouthedness pervades into every other bit of his life as well, and for all his skill in his work, there’s no question about it: the dude’s a goddamn idiot whose willing to run his mouth about anything towards anyone, and has absolutely no sense of shame or tact either. There’s no tricks and no gimmicks behind Oribara’s words, just a brutal honesty that often backfires due to his inherent social stupidity. He always has words to say, after all, but his hot-headedness means that the words he says may not always be the right ones.

There is also no universe, however, where Oribara will break his promises or leave his comrades to die. He’s a hot-headed idiot, and that same idiocy means that he’s not ever going to believe in that cynical shittalk about things being impossible. Fuck that noise, that’s not how he rides! No one gets to die on Oribara’s watch, especially if they’re a couple days from retirement or promised to confess to their loved ones after the expedition. After all, in a world like this, where it’s a miracle already to make it to adolescence, every life is worth the blood shed to save it.

Brief Backstory
To get to where he is now, Oribara started at an early age.

Even in his earliest memories, he was a scavenger, rummaging through the rotten underbelly of Mai-Tao, slipping in through pipes and plunging into steaming tunnels to strip copper wiring for reselling on the black market. It was dangerous and worthless work, but it was the work that urchins could afford.

Oribara got lucky though.

He ended up getting scouted, and his job became dangerous but worthwhile. It took time, of course. It was painful too. Hurt his head to learn how to read and do math. Sometimes, he wondered if it was only on a whim that he, and no one else, was picked up and put through this. People he knew continued to die, continued to disappear. Sometimes, he’d come across their bodies. Sometimes, just their bones. There wasn’t too much of a difference, the slums of Mai-Tao and the domains of the artifacts. Both lethal. Both lawless.

No. There was a difference.

Oribara was alive in the latter, and dead in the former.

So no matter what he endured, no matter how hard he studied and worked, it was worth it, so long as he could keep venturing into these places, so long as he could do something to affect the lives of others who wanted so fervently to live.

At fifteen years of age, covered in blood and bruises, cradling three cracked ribs and a broken arm, Oribara realized that he wasn’t panting, but laughing.

He never looked back from there.

Only surrounded by unknowns did torchlight burn so bright.

Skills

“If you suck balls at magic, then just train to make up for it, dipshit.” Those were the words that Oribara’s teacher drilled into his skull, and such words had become a mantra for the rest of his life. Magic allowed one to grow stronger, yes, and artifacts offered ways of becoming stronger too, but if you were a brick-headed dumbass like Oribara, there was only one way to advance. So that’s exactly what he did, and exactly what he got.

Skateboarding Jesus
Oribara likes skateboarding. He likes it so much that he skateboards whenever possible, and after skateboarding enough, he’s gained an incomprehensible amount of ability in skateboarding, to the extent that he can traverse through the cataclysm-wrecked lands that artifacts could be found…while on his skateboard. It’s truly a mind-boggling sight, seeing all the tricks he can pull.

Graffiting Vandal
You can’t be a Trailblazer without knowing how to use a spray can, after all. Oribara knows all the common symbols for denoting danger and rest points, and has a fairly elaborate tag as well.

Bodacious Beefcake
Oribara works out. He works out a lot. He works out so much that he’s attained superhuman capabilities through it. All his physical attributes could be considered impressive, but his strength is especially so, and if he gets his hands on you? His fists can definitely do more damage than the double shotguns he holsters on his belt.

Guns n Shit
Oribara’s got basic training with the shotguns he has, and can load them pretty smoothly even while he’s doing a 720 kickflip. Just don’t ask him to aim. There’s a good reason why he mains shotguns.

His Real Guns
Punk as he is, Oribara always prefers to brawl rather than shoot, and his fists hit like a truck when he gets going. He’s ultimately untrained in any form of combat though, and gets by with sheer power of mind and body rather than any techniques.

Trailblazing Trailblazer
As it comes with the job title, Oribara’s proficient and experienced in travelling into unmarked territory and drawing down maps. It’s pretty boring though, so he usually ends up just tagging, rather than mapping.

I Am The Ambulance
Weirdly enough, Oribara’s very enthusiastic about learning medicine and such, due in part to the fact that no one gets to die on his watch. He’s a well-trained field medic, and can do some fairly complex procedures in the heat of battle, which has been a life-saver for many of the people who he’s helped within the distorted realms of the post-cataclysm.

Though the run-and-gun comes naturally to him, and his style of being a skateboarding explorer of unknowns makes him well-known, Oribara’s true passion really is that of a healer. It may juxtapose with his combative nature, but perhaps it makes sense as well. After all, what monster requires more fighting spirit to face, than the immortal sceptre of Death itself?

Equipment: Skateboard, shotguns, spray cans, medkits, cartography tools, and travelling essentials. Being built as he is means that Oribara can carry a fair amount, and he takes advantage of that fact. No one knows how long it’d take to tag new locations, after all.

Faction: The Gatecrashers of Hell (colloquially known as the Trailblazers)

Enter: Into an Isekai World

Whatcha looking for in terms of posting rate, Ink? Also, confirming real fast, but I'm guessing there's only two slots to apply for, that being for Defense and Might?

Dawn Beyond Tomorrow: A Magitech distant postapocalyptic action-adventure RP

Done.

Dawn Beyond Tomorrow: A Magitech distant postapocalyptic action-adventure RP

There.

Shotgun Blasting Medic on Wheels

Oribara Senjoushi

_{18 y/o | Male | Trailblazer}

💪

Well-built and 5’9, Oribara’s got an aggressive look to him, from his dynamically bold eyebrows to his blade-sharp tattoos. His complexion is a tanned olive, and his ears are pierced, filled with whatever metal accessories he feels like for the day. There is certainly an aesthetic that he prescribes towards, one that’s as visually loud as he’s verbally loud, and Oribara makes no attempt to hide his disdain for anything that cramps his style. Power Armor? PPEs? Weather-appropriate clothing? Fine suits? Fuck that noise, brother. Muscle training makes up for not having to stuff yourself into those metal coffins, that’s for sure, and if you can’t shrug off a bullet or a dozen, you were never cut out for artifact hunting to begin with.

Personality
There is no universe where Oribara Senjoushi has an inside voice. Loud and brash, he adheres to the idea that stealth is optimal, but optimal never happens. As such, when delving through the ancient ruins of the previous era, Oribara is loud as fuck for the sole purpose of sussing out any creatures that might be hostile to others. He’s a failure as a Trailblazer if he doesn’t identify what living threats there are in the environment, after all! That sort of audacious loud-mouthedness pervades into every other bit of his life as well, and for all his skill in his work, there’s no question about it: the dude’s a goddamn idiot whose willing to run his mouth about anything towards anyone, and has absolutely no sense of shame or tact either. There’s no tricks and no gimmicks behind Oribara’s words, just a brutal honesty that often backfires due to his inherent social stupidity. He always has words to say, after all, but his hot-headedness means that the words he says may not always be the right ones.

There is also no universe, however, where Oribara will break his promises or leave his comrades to die. He’s a hot-headed idiot, and that same idiocy means that he’s not ever going to believe in that cynical shittalk about things being impossible. Fuck that noise, that’s not how he rides! No one gets to die on Oribara’s watch, especially if they’re a couple days from retirement or promised to confess to their loved ones after the expedition. After all, in a world like this, where it’s a miracle already to make it to adolescence, every life is worth the blood shed to save it.

Brief Backstory
To get to where he is now, Oribara started at an early age.

Even in his earliest memories, he was a scavenger, rummaging through the rotten underbelly of Mai-Tao, slipping in through pipes and plunging into steaming tunnels to strip copper wiring for reselling on the black market. It was dangerous and worthless work, but it was the work that urchins could afford.

Oribara got lucky though.

He ended up getting scouted, and his job became dangerous but worthwhile. It took time, of course. It was painful too. Hurt his head to learn how to read and do math. Sometimes, he wondered if it was only on a whim that he, and no one else, was picked up and put through this. People he knew continued to die, continued to disappear. Sometimes, he’d come across their bodies. Sometimes, just their bones. There wasn’t too much of a difference, the slums of Mai-Tao and the domains of the artifacts. Both lethal. Both lawless.

No. There was a difference.

Oribara was alive in the latter, and dead in the former.

So no matter what he endured, no matter how hard he studied and worked, it was worth it, so long as he could keep venturing into these places, so long as he could do something to affect the lives of others who wanted so fervently to live.

At fifteen years of age, covered in blood and bruises, cradling three cracked ribs and a broken arm, Oribara realized that he wasn’t panting, but laughing.

He never looked back from there.

Only surrounded by unknowns did torchlight burn so bright.

Skills

“If you suck balls at magic, then just train to make up for it, dipshit.” Those were the words that Oribara’s teacher drilled into his skull, and such words had become a mantra for the rest of his life. Magic allowed one to grow stronger, yes, and artifacts offered ways of becoming stronger too, but if you were a brick-headed dumbass like Oribara, there was only one way to advance. So that’s exactly what he did, and exactly what he got.

Skateboarding Jesus
Oribara likes skateboarding. He likes it so much that he skateboards whenever possible, and after skateboarding enough, he’s gained an incomprehensible amount of ability in skateboarding, to the extent that he can traverse through the cataclysm-wrecked lands that artifacts could be found…while on his skateboard. It’s truly a mind-boggling sight, seeing all the tricks he can pull.

Graffiting Vandal
You can’t be a Trailblazer without knowing how to use a spray can, after all. Oribara knows all the common symbols for denoting danger and rest points, and has a fairly elaborate tag as well.

Bodacious Beefcake
Oribara works out. He works out a lot. He works out so much that he’s attained superhuman capabilities through it. All his physical attributes could be considered impressive, but his strength is especially so, and if he gets his hands on you? His fists can definitely do more damage than the double shotguns he holsters on his belt.

Guns n Shit
Oribara’s got basic training with the shotguns he has, and can load them pretty smoothly even while he’s doing a 720 kickflip. Just don’t ask him to aim. There’s a good reason why he mains shotguns.

His Real Guns
Punk as he is, Oribara always prefers to brawl rather than shoot, and his fists hit like a truck when he gets going. He’s ultimately untrained in any form of combat though, and gets by with sheer power of mind and body rather than any techniques.

Trailblazing Trailblazer
As it comes with the job title, Oribara’s proficient and experienced in travelling into unmarked territory and drawing down maps. It’s pretty boring though, so he usually ends up just tagging, rather than mapping.

I Am The Ambulance
Weirdly enough, Oribara’s very enthusiastic about learning medicine and such, due in part to the fact that no one gets to die on his watch. He’s a well-trained field medic, and can do some fairly complex procedures in the heat of battle, which has been a life-saver for many of the people who he’s helped within the distorted realms of the post-cataclysm.

Though the run-and-gun comes naturally to him, and his style of being a skateboarding explorer of unknowns makes him well-known, Oribara’s true passion really is that of a healer. It may juxtapose with his combative nature, but perhaps it makes sense as well. After all, what monster requires more fighting spirit to face, than the immortal sceptre of Death itself?

Equipment: Skateboard, shotguns, spray cans, medkits, cartography tools, and travelling essentials. Being built as he is means that Oribara can carry a fair amount, and he takes advantage of that fact. No one knows how long it’d take to tag new locations, after all.

Faction: The Gatecrashers of Hell (colloquially known as the Trailblazers)

The Devil Hunter Agency

_{@TheWendil@Flood@SilverPaw@dioscuri}

A flash of flame, and a new star rose up to the sky, gloriously incandescent as the night itself was scoured away by the phoenix wings of the Devil Bringer. Snarling against the light, the vampire lady took a step back, her pale hand shading her from the blinding radiance. What beauty was there in firelight? It had neither the subtlety of the moon nor the arrogance of the sun! Naught but a mongrel imitation of both!

The tidal wave of blood crushed her pathetic peasants’ bones and flesh to bits as it surged through, but the spell had been driven by magic, not by physics. If the flaming wench had evaded it, that just meant that the archer behind her would have more than just swift zombies to contend with. Frothing and bubbling like bloody spit from a titan’s lips, the cursed wave crashed on without sympathy, rushing now for Hoshio.

Mai’s bind was also noted, and Shika briefly wished that they had gotten a gun for the fake-Envoy as well. Would have been a cool moment if the puppet had pulled out a Glock and went blap-blap-blap while that strange force restrained the swordswoman, but oh well. Fake-Envoy, after distance was made and pursuit did not continue, resumed the collection of the black rocks, saving what could be saved before Hoshio found an opening to begin bombarding the shrine once more.

Such incidents, important as they were, played second fiddle to the violent clash occurring within the 0.1 seconds that had elapsed.

With contempt still clear upon her visage, the vampire tossed her head back, allowing her hair to flow vibrantly in the flame-swept winds. She opened her arms up to her side, disdaining even the very effort of blocking or dodging Maria’s downwards cleave, and it was with that same expression that she was smashed in half. Obsidian edges and brute force ripped through the vampire’s body, but blood did not flow and her sneer did not change. In a burst of perfumed wind, the bisected body dispersed into a storm of rose petals around Maria.

The click-clack of heels sounded behind her.

“You truly believe that the likes of your kind are suited to dance with me? I’ve met jesters less disgraceful than you, child.”

The vampire lady raised a slender hand, and the flowing of the petals stopped mid-air, each petal glinting like shards of glass.

“ユダのデザート. [Judas’ Desserts].”

And as one, they shot towards Maria, intent on delivering the myriad cuts demise that the traitor of the Messiah truly deserved.

Dawn Beyond Tomorrow: A Magitech distant postapocalyptic action-adventure RP

Gotcha, that's helpful enough.