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Dead Gods Dream: A post-apocalyptic divine action-adventure RP

Where's the overlap in terms of actual abilities and personality? If the only issue is the nouns I used, I don't mind switching to something else. Could probably just slap down something like God of Plunder and Ruin instead.

Dead Gods Dream: A post-apocalyptic divine action-adventure RP

The Fist of Calamity

As a divine being, Zandako was always larger than whatever he faced, his form growing to match mountain-sized golems and world-spanning serpents, sky-shrouding storm spirits and sky-splitting dragons. Even now, stripped of most of his divinity, he stands at the physical apex of humanity, 7’2 and boasting muscles that could crush rocks with a casual flex. An aura of virility and authority exudes from him effortlessly, and his body is unmarred by defect or injury, as if sculpted out of marble by a masterful artisan. But for all this, Zandako could not be considered handsome, neither as a god nor as a human. Just as easily as his expressions slip into saintly contemplation and heroic courage do they veer towards deviant obsession and barbarous perversion.

Zandako

_{God of Conquest and Domination}

Mythology

Ten thousand years ago, the mortal realm was populated with many gods, all with different designs, all with different ends. Few could be considered reasonable, and many could be considered destructive. The Goddess of Judgement, bound by a universal morality that no others could understand, discerned the black and white within the gray and slew her quarry with impunity. The God of the Sun, arrogant and apathetic upon their charred throne, would set nations ablaze with a flick of the wrist, mortal suffering naught but the crackling of tinder. The Goddess of Love and War, immolating with bipolar desires, warred for love and loved for war while mountains of corpses grew with every successive ceremony. In a time where the gods roamed and played amongst the specks of humanity, each one of them seeking ultimate rule, darker passions arose within those sundered lands and tainted the fledging deity known as Zandako.

Justice, Power, Love were meaningless to the God of Conquest and Domination, and no noble designs could be mythologized from his goal of taking what he wished: the chastity of a promised maiden, the wealth of an ancient order, the faith of another god’s people. At times saintly and at times dastardly, Zandako would betray anything and anyone for the sake of a whim in one breath, and then discard the object of his whimsical obsession in the next. He was a roaming disaster unchained, a calamity answering to none. With his fist, ruination visited civilization and monstrosity alike. With his grasp, all that was beautiful in the world was spoiled and shattered. Zandako was an audacious nightmare, a god who persisted in humanity’s zeitgeist through trauma rather than fear or adoration, and yet, there were still those that followed him.

The warlike coveted his might and committed atrocities in his name.

The weak coveted his destruction and prayed that he roamed upon their abusers.

The outsiders coveted his solitude and mirrored his cataclysmic pilgrimages.

And those who fell from a more intimate ruin…remembered him.

Years melted to decades, decades melted into centuries. Zandako continued his transient conquest, his vain dominance, leaving barren lands and smoldering ruin. And as his endless endurance began to see their end, as his unmatched body became more burden than blessing, the god looked behind him and surveyed his work. Not as warlord or general, but as a farmer who had tilled the fields and reaped his harvest, enjoying the fruits of civilization in their prime and sowing seeds for a more resilient future. And with a laugh that echoed around the world, the God of Plunder and Subjugation, of Conquest and Domination, of Change and Renewal, sat down and offered his neck to the ruination that would visit him soon.

His thoughts seeped away, and his memories colored his dreams.

But ten thousand years later, even the obsolescence of the gods was conquered by Zandako.

Abilities

Once, Zandako possessed strength and endurance unmatched, enormity and authority unequaled, and virility and appetite unrivalled. As a mere vestige of what he once was, however, such capabilities have been greatly diminished.

He is still a titan of physical ability, supremely strong and tough. His immense stamina fully recovers from sleep without being contingent on food and drink, and his body is incapable of being physically damaged: while Zandako’s life force can be decreased with successive physical attacks, his physical form will not change to reflect how close he is to death, giving him the bluff of invulnerability. It is a pathetic shadow of the true immortality that he once enjoyed, but when combined with his supernatural endurance, is enough to cause others to question the value in trying to break the unbreakable.

His divine domains of Conquest and Domination manifest itself in the ability for him to grasp what is physically impossible to do so and to treat it as a solid object, malleable and breakable with enough force involved. While Zandako finds it difficult to interact with the more abstract concepts that the Goddess of Commerce seals away with her contracts, his hands can tear easily at the arcane structures behind magic, grasp the physically distant as if they were right in front of him, and deliver punches that target the microscopic and the unknown. Put simply, Zandako can, with his fists, cure all manner of diseases and curses, or pull at the wind to force a fresh breeze to accompany him. But, naturally, the greater the scale he wishes to apply his divine grasp, the more exhausting the act of doing so, and some intangibles are simply too slippery to take in his hands currently.

Whether as a consequence of his divine domain, a side effect of his physical stature, or some instinctual terror engraved upon the souls of humanity from ten thousand years ago, mortals are more receptive towards his demands and desires, and less willing to challenge him or his opinions. As a purely passive effect that Zandako has no real control over, this varies in efficacy from individual to individual, but he makes up for the difference in efficacy by…just being himself.

Through his centuries of experience, Zandako’s also exceptionally talented under the sheets. Of course, though he may brag about his sexual escapades in general terms, he’s not the sort of man to kiss and tell. No real point, after all, when half of his fellow deities are totally disinterested and the other half have roughly the same appetite as himself.

Dead Gods Dream: A post-apocalyptic divine action-adventure RP

@ActRaiserTheReturned
Basically, you want to look for a God that has a relatively restrictive domain. A God of Magic or a God of Souls would either be too broken or too weak for the setting, which is more like a sci-fi post-apocalypse. Think of the God of Fire, who embodies a very destructive and specific element: the manipulation of souls or the ability to freely cast/create magic absolutely shits on that, both in terms of destructive capability and in terms of versatility. Find yourself a more specific niche, one rooted in either an aspect of nature or a human activity, and try to build off that instead.

Also, Vita’s ostensibly an anime RPer, so they probably want anime aesthetics. That may help guide your thought process too.

And I’ll probably be joining as a Deity of Sex and DrugsPleasure and Intoxication, if I get to making a sheet.

Cacophony Concord

“More details?”

Sarasa tilted her head to the side slightly, as if there didn’t need to be more detail than what she had just shared. It was a simple matter of territory within this particular cavern in the Blasphemed Tunnels, after all, and since when did Immortals question anyone when it came to a simple request to kill things? Ames’s follow-up question clarified things though, and the frown that the buxom lady had on her face was the perfect combination of empathetic but helpless.

“Ah, we don’t receive much news of the surface from down below,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s certainly terrible news though, this matter with abducted children. And as for the details you’ve wished us to elaborate upon, Master One-Armed, I must confess that there isn’t all too much to it. Surely you have seen the depraved acts of the gyunin on your way here? We’ve done what we could to hold our own, but unfortunately, their numbers exceed ours, and so does their lust for brutality. Even the undead fake their deaths when those savages are in the proximity.”

She let out a dry chuckle.

“It’s doubtlessly ironic, that my den has fled the surface to avoid the warlike oni, only to find below their inbred brethren. Alas, such a plague of monstrosities ought to be uprooted entirely, and,” her eyes flickered towards the musclebound Klein, who was already itching for some real action, “I’m sure your party is wholly capable of that.”

Raime’s quick scan of the room didn’t manage to uncover any further details about the presence of children, other than what looked to be the remnants of a footprint near the entrance where he was at. It wasn’t the party’s and couldn’t have belonged to Lugh or the snake-people either, who were either barefoot, had no feet, or wore sandals. A quick comparison would indicate that the footprint must have belonged to an adult male…but what did it mean?
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

As her vision blackened, then sharpened to supernatural sensitivity, Ari found her suspicions proven correct. With the glimpses of the cart that she could catch while swivelling her head from right to left, she could easily see the outlines of several blue-tinted forms within the space beneath the floor. They had to be small, smaller than a normal adult, in order to fit into such spaces, but why they didn’t move at all was something that she couldn’t answer immediately. Within fifty meters of her as well, there was only the thick yellow brilliance of flora, while right before her, glowing the crimson of the monsters, was the form of Man-Joji.

No real revelations were had, certainly, but it confirmed her suspicions and elucidate her prior observations. All the answers were essentially in her hands now. The only question was what she could do with them.

That wasn’t right.

Before any plans could be made, Ari saw it within the aurascape offered by Xu Fu. The hand of the shapeshifter reaching up and rising slowly towards her face. The precursor to an attack? Or a test to determine whether she had lied or not about her Nuclei’s power? Another crossroads, another choice.

And her mana continued to burn away.
_@GreenGoat

-FV-

Twenty-four hours, was it? Plenty of time to become perfectly rested then. Tian-Gui downed his tea with the finality of a man who could go for something more substantial, before turning to the others. "I've got a couple of other little things to deal with, but considering the circumstances...how 'bout we have dinner together tonight? With the whole gang n all." He grinned at Mason. "Including your grandkid. I'm sure we're not so broke after the Fort Five renovations that we can't afford delivery n all? And if we need a private venue..."

The young man jammed his hand into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of plastic, upon which was a QR code with a rainbow sheen.

"Actually got this discount to a karaoke place from a fan today. Place had pretty decent reviews online, so hey, might as well ring in the New Years with something fun, y'know?"

Though maybe the grandkid would've preferred to see the Final Five putting on one of those masked hero shows instead.

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

^{@Pyromania99@Rune_Alchemist}

Inventory

Coinage: 8 Silver, 5 Copper

• The (shredded) clothing on his back.
• A fur cloak.
• Untanned boar skin.
• Leather Belt
• Knight's Shield
• Knight's Dagger
• Knight's Longsword
• Dwarf's Polearm
• Rope
• Some preserved food
  Enough for two people to last a few days.
• Roll of what seemed to be a mat of thick fur, likely for sleeping on
  Comfortable, but only one.
• A heavy looking fur/cloth blanket.
  Cozy, warm and heavy. Good for sleeping in colder climates.
• Communication horn
  Made from bone, hollow and likely used for communication.
• A small pot and a ladle
• Frozen canteen of water
• Map of the Under roads.
  A map detailing some routes used by the Dwarves and Shadow Elves to travel in their subterranean homes. Its not entirely complete, but it at least shows the routes to the two most notable settlements and several other places of note. Unless you travel off the paths, you probably won’t get lost.

But when Raezel glanced towards where Isidore had been, the Urutha girl wouldn't find him.

It had been amusing, if nothing else, listening to the natural audacity of the kid. If he had been the same age as her, her dismissive attitude towards the value of a sharp edge would be enough of an excuse to start throwing hands, but with his perspective and his inexperience with the world, it was enough to simply accept her words as the common sense of a child living in a magically-rich society. She hadn't seen what Sorcha and Railey were capable of, just as how he had yet to see what Rullphana was capable of. Time will tell, naturally, whether it was through sword or sorcery that the face of warfare was shaped.

Though no matter the fascinating nature of this one-sided discourse, Isidore remained aware of his surroundings. Raezel was heading for the outskirts of the market, and considering the time of day, the crowds were smaller than they were a few hours ago. Gloomhaven was no modern day city, after all, no city that never slept. It was a city with less distractions as well. No smartphones to cause one to look down, no neon advertisements pulling at your vision. There was no reason then, for a hooded Sirithen to make a beeline towards a very loud, very visible Raezel. Within the few seconds he had to make a decision, however, Isidore decided not to act yet.

Having her purse stolen would make it a teachable moment about the awareness one ought to have about their surroundings. Having her stabbed by a jilted lover would also be a teachable moment, a moment regarding the efficacy of a sharp edge in surprise attacks. Having nothing happen at all other than a bump would mean that his natural reaction would become an overreaction.

So the Sirithen man bumped into Raezel, then lied about being in a hurry. He left, she raged, and...

Idiot excuse.

...Isidore moved, his own steps mirroring the Sirithen's as they got closer and closer to the core of the market. Maintaining a distance of two meters, enough to speak but not enough to threaten, he said, "Don't run. Keep walking. Explain."

One could not yet know for certain, after all, whether the pickpocketing of a demon seed was the man's intention or just thievery gone wrong. And in polite society, Isidore would presume ignorance before guilt, stupidity before malice. Couldn't so well as get into real trouble on his first night in Gloomhaven, now could he?

Our Dying Wish - Play Corrupt-A-Wish, Get Superpowers in this Demon-Slaying RPG

I'll keep an eye in this.

Silver Gate Academy [Accepting New Players]

_{@Sho Minazuki}

"I'll open then."

Cold, exacting, and precise. All along the way to the meeting place, Otis had been regulating his mood, his awareness. He had checked over his reagents, had reviewed his anti-youkai measures, and had eaten a light meal. He pulled out an energy gel he had bought from a convenience store, tore it open, and sucked out the sugary contents in one quick gulp. The extra kick of glucose would help maintain his razor-sharp focus, and reminded him of something else on his to-do list for developing his own magecraft.

But that was the future. Only the present mattered.

Sitting cross-legged on a park bench, the Strigidae broke open his revolver and closed one eye, simulating the upcoming fight and slotting in his bullets accordingly. Shinzou was an anomaly, but the rest of the crew wouldn't have been. What was the threat though? The assassin was skilled, but had been thwarted even when the group was wholly unprepared. The black shadow, the kurobozou, offered greater mobility, but seemed to have no other combat applications: if Shinzou chose to run away, it was basically their victory. Which left the man himself, who'll likely tap into his demonic powers immediately, and who could destroy any magical setup Otis created within a few seconds.

"I'll stop the pureblood demons, so take them down first. First and second shot will give you all the opening. The third shot will expose the Kurobozou. Don't fuck around." Six bullets loaded, six steps determined. He slammed the revolver back into place and opened his other eye. "Utsumi, prioritize Seirin for evacuation after we get her out of the Egg."

The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll

^{@Pyromania99@Rune_Alchemist}

Inventory

Coinage: 8 Silver, 5 Copper

• The (shredded) clothing on his back.
• A fur cloak.
• Untanned boar skin.
• Leather Belt
• Knight's Shield
• Knight's Dagger
• Knight's Longsword
• Dwarf's Polearm
• Rope
• Some preserved food
  Enough for two people to last a few days.
• Roll of what seemed to be a mat of thick fur, likely for sleeping on
  Comfortable, but only one.
• A heavy looking fur/cloth blanket.
  Cozy, warm and heavy. Good for sleeping in colder climates.
• Communication horn
  Made from bone, hollow and likely used for communication.
• A small pot and a ladle
• Frozen canteen of water
• Map of the Under roads.
  A map detailing some routes used by the Dwarves and Shadow Elves to travel in their subterranean homes. Its not entirely complete, but it at least shows the routes to the two most notable settlements and several other places of note. Unless you travel off the paths, you probably won’t get lost.

That was a strange doubt to have.

Did Rullphana have something similar to Augusta’s eyes, capable of discerning lies from truth? Or was the claim of having had less than a week to learn the arts of magic so outlandish that even liars wouldn’t speak of it? But more importantly…it may have been the wrong thing to say. The arrogant, especially those who rest their pride upon their experience and their powers, have a habit of becoming ever so spiteful when faced with a prodigy whose potential surpasses their own. He’d like to have a ‘good’ relationship with the Urutha mage as well; no need to mention how his own magical aptitude mirror’s Augusta’s.

And as for an examination that would last a few hours…

“I’ll take you up on that suggestion then,” Isidore replied, turning towards the door. “And Augusta, enjoy.” Hopefully neither party involved got into a fight once they went from spiritual studies to anatomical ones.

Following out after the great mage’s apprentice, he noted once more the singular gateguard. Vallanur. A name to remember, an individual with their own prejudices. Guards, cops, spooks, they were good people to get to know at a distance. The harshness of legislation and the rigidity of society was determined largely by how passionate the enforces on the streets were, after all. Maybe he’ll come back in a few hours with a drink. Chat with the man a bit.

For now though, it was Raezel, the literal child, who had been given the demon seed for safeguarding, and who was currently running off to who knows where again. Isidore still had the deal with the Dirithen to investigate, but considering the hearty earth of this cavern, so many times better than that miserable garden beneath the prisons, if the demon seed were to somehow find root here…

Didn’t need that strong an imagination to think of the apocalypse.

Picking up his own pace, Isidore caught up to the apprentice. “Eager to return to the forge?"

Cacophony Concord

“Mm,” Lugh nodded, as everyone slinked, crawled, jumped, or just walked their way up. “Glad to see so many of you. Follow me.” With the grace of someone who must’ve had a decent amount of DEX invested into his build, the swordsman dropped down from the tree and motioned the others to follow as well before…literally clipping through a portion of the roof’s floor and disappearing.

Upon some inspection, however, Raime would be able to pick out a few talismans plastered beside the area Lugh fell down into, dirt and grime rubbed upon them to camoflague them. It must have been an illusion then, one that was quickly confirmed if any of the party of five stuck their feet into the conjuration of a floor and felt empty space instead. Perhaps more of those talismans existed and Amulak and Raime had simply missed them on their initial scouting run?

Whether with trepidation, excitement, or simply a desire to let it all end and move onto less terrifying areas, the party went in as well, dropping a couple meters into the gloom of the dilapidated estate. Wooden boards creaked beneath their feet (except for Klein, who’s right foot practically broke through it), and Lugh motioned them to follow once more. They must have been on the upper floors of the estate still. There were stairs, half-rotten but perfectly jumpable, that lead down in a downwards spiralling fashion, and all sorts of vermin scattered at the party’s presence. No monsters burst out from adjacent walls though, and nothing grotesque grabbed at their ankles. Bulbous growths upon the estate-piercing tree’s bark offered a dim, flaccid light, enough for the focused to avoid any more holes in the floor. The party travelled down the hallway, made a left turn, and soon found themselves on the northeastern corner of the house. Behind the door that Lugh stood beside, firelight and the clattering of metal could be sensed.

“Well, here we are,” the man said, tone as neutrally light as ever. “Try to keep an open mind about it, ok?”

And with that, he slid the door open revealing a 30 square meter space occupied by…goddamn snake-people. On the northwestern corner, a four-meter long snake woman with a distended belly reclined upon an array of large boxes covered by pattern fabrics. A larger, six-meter long snake man, pale and pasty but with a robust snake half, was coiled in front of the central hearth of the room, stoking a fire and occasionally stirring the wok that laid atop it. A strange stew bubbled, neither enticing nor revolting; were those bones human ones, or goat-head-human-body ones? Another male snake-person, this time sporting a snake head rather than a snake tail, leaned over a smaller collection of boxes and coin purses at the northeastern corner, leveraging his four arms to operate a scale and an abacus simultaneously as his slitted eyes seemed to focus on two different products at a time. And finally, leaning against the southern entrance, was a woman with long, braided hair dressed in a black kimono that featured spider lily patterns. The most human of the bunch, the only snake-like parts of her body were her slitted eyes, amber gems that glowed tantalizingly in the dimness of the room.

“Oh, Lugh,” she spoke, her voice sibilant and pleasing to the ears. “Who are these fine fellows?”

“Ah, Sarasa. These are my friends! Figured that with more of us, we could push further into the gyunin’s territory.”

The woman placed her hands together. “Why, that sounds lovely. Would you all be so kind as to do so? Usually we’d be able to do so ourselves, but considering the state of one of our own, some external help in driving back those primitives would be greatly appreciated.”
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

Man-Joji laughed as he raised himself up onto the driver’s seat beside Ari, the wooden seat groaning slightly under his weight. “And here I thought you Immortals were accustomed to harsher conditions,” he said, taking the reins and flicking them. “I’ve no promises regarding comfort, but it’ll be enough to keep us warm through the night.”

With Ari falling silent afterwards, the merchant began to whistle as he drove the carriage off west, where a grove of gnarled trees grew at the outskirts of the village. “A hunters’ cabin,” he offered in way of explanation, as they continued through, the canopy casting deep shadows while the creaking wheels scared away the wildlife. Gradually, the smells of civilization and the sounds of the village peeled away, swallowed by branches and bushes. The sun continued to fall, and the night continued to encroach. Still, there was no cabin in sight, nor even a sign of a travelled trail. The mule wheezed from the effort; the wagon swayed from the roots underneath. Eventually, it stopped completely, stubbornly refusing to move any further.

Man-Joji urged the mule a couple more times, then sighed.

“Well, suppose that’s as far as we go for a while.” The merchant reclined, his dark eyes catching what few strands of light still pierced the gloom of the grove as he faced the catgirl. “So I’ve been wondering, Ari. Don’t suppose you’ve caught any rats within my wares?”
_@GreenGoat