eskimolander

Without Face

That's my problem, I just can't think of one that makes any sense whatsoever. Would you have any suggestions?

Without Face

I have an idea for a world, but not a plot or anything. So I thought perhaps a slice of life style, except in this world that I've created? Or we could work out a plot together as a group? That'd be cool. Anywho, I have the premise of the world in the hider below, for your reading pleasure. If there's anything you don't understand just ask. If anyone's down for this also let me know. I'm think of filling in about 14 spots maximum, plus myself. I'd like at least 5 of these to be filled before starting. Thanks for checking this out!
One Shade
Two Absolutes
Three Raised
Five Commonfolk
Three Unmentionables.

Premise

Without Face

A land of vast beauty and resources nestles itself at the center of the world. While most of it's natural wealth has been largely untapped, settlements have sprung up sparingly. Small collections of farmland and poor rural towns making up the majority.

However these towns were laughable at best when compared to the sprawling city that was Tarrin. Much like her people, Tarrin was built to clearly define what belongs where. Holding a large hub which sports a fine marketplace selling any good imaginable, bordered by a theater and opera, bank and the courthouse. Each built of the finest materials and decorated as brilliantly as the property owners could afford, making Tarrin's center sparkle and shine. The walkways to leave however drab down quite dramatically, marble buildings giving way to wooden ones.

Though they were not without their own merit, humble and somewhat shabby, these paths were lined with taverns, inns and the occasional brothel. To quench any travelers thirst. In either direction roads connected to Tarrin's two residential districts--well, three if you count the slums.

Glistening walls with doors of fine metals, stained glass windows, grand statues and lush lawns ware indicative of Arcadia, Tarrin's upper class region. The working class however, are more suited to Tarrin's Mezzo. Simple wood and stone apartments towered on top of one another, peppered by a few small houses. Then there's the slums. A place with hardly a wall to speak off, most 'houses' being cloth nailed upon wooden supports. The very few actual buildings there being lived in by several families, or more commonly, black market shops.

Though Tarrin's greatest pride is not within her walls, but rather the three colleges that claimed sisterhood with the city.

First and foremost would be The College of Discovery, a place were one would study the natural world and it's function. Often becoming a pinnacle of knowledge, guiding Tarrin's population in areas ranging from agriculture and astronomy to manufacturing and technology.

The College of Government garnered near equal importance, having been the place of learning for all of Tarrin's political forces. Here a student would learn the intricacies of Tarrin's legal system, as well as both past and current laws. Preparing them to assist in the leadership and control of the country.

However the school with the greatest influence on Tarrin and her people is The College of Propriety. Having both the lowest enrollment and most restrictive outcome, it is by far the most well regarded. Upon graduating, students join The Council of the Faceless, and such become a part of those who decide how Tarrinians are to conduct themselves in order to please the heavens.

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With a strong taboo of hiding ones face, the people of Tarrin have grown accustomed to wearing masks. Even using them to distinguish someones rank within their harsh caste system. While moving through these ranks is not impossible, it is difficult and rare to accomplish. Becoming more difficult the further down you're born. The only methods of such promotions being marriage and education, two simple sounding but difficult tasks to achieve. So often, the rank of ones birth is also the rank of ones death.

Shades

A Shade is the highest position a person can have in Tarrinian society, and also they only position one cannot be born into. Shades are graduates of either The College of Discovery or The College of Propriety. They often live outside the city, those from Discovery living in a small settlement surrounding their school only visiting Tarrin for less wholesome activities. The Faceless, students from Propriety, on the other hand live stay forever at their school, leaving only to deliver important information to the city. Though having such a high status does not free them of restrictions. Shades are forbidden to marry, though Shades of Discovery may take on lovers. However recognizing children from said lovers may run the risk of being evicted from their settlement, reducing them to common folk. Though with a very convincing argument, a Shade has rarely been allowed to keep both their position and family.

Keeping with tradition of hiding ones face, Shades wear a black mask and cover with a ground-dragging, shapeless black robe. To add to this, when entering Tarrin, Shades are required to wear mouth pieces that make their gender indecipherable by voice.

Absolutes

Absolutes are the nobles and politicians of Tarrin. Many having attended The College of Government and after graduate, return to earn their stripes in the world of politics. Those who don't work in the government often work for it, becoming police officers or bankers. The remaining few being stay-at-home spouses. Due to their high wealth and status, they often live above the law and do as they please.

The men and women dress similarly. Wearing masks of a metallic colour with little to no ornamentation, aside from a thick black line around the eyes. Accompanying this are large headpieces, half their height or taller, and loose fitting outfits with billowed sleeves. Both genders wear a floor-length skirt, men's being straight and women's range from a-line to ballroom in shape. Bright colours are typical, with lace to form borders and geometric shapes. Ornamentation in the form of flowers, stones, gems and veils vary depending on the wearers personality.

Raised

They are believed to be of common blood, but with proper raising have been brought to have better minds and therefore provide for themselves. In reality, it has likely been generations since any family in this rank as seen a commonfolk member. While each persons wealth is at a different level, even the poorest of them is still exorbitantly rich by normal standards. Only those who with ambitions of promotion venture of to college, the rest staying home and working their family businesses, or else start their own. Almost everything in Tarrin, if not owned by an absolute, is owned by a raised. The few exceptions often being illegal.

Each persons mask and outfit changes considerably. A common theme however is, the more decoration the better. Both genders wear stark-white masks, with the men's being elongated and resembling a beak. Men typically decorate their masks conservatively, if at all, instead preferring to focus on their clothes. Women however use any manner of decoration and colours possible, creating loud and boisterous designs. To cover their hair any combination of headpiece, hat, veil and headscarf are used following the same gaudy style of the masks. Similarly the outfits are spared little expense. Diverting from the absolutes more uniformed approach, raised costumes are designed to show of their wealth. The more going on, the better.

Commonfolk

These are the working class. Employees of either the absolutes or the raised. A small percentage owning their own seedy bars, being the wealthiest of the middle-class. Many aspire to promote, and it's not uncommon for parents to try and arrange marriages or to sacrifice well-being to afford college. Actual realization of these goals however is rarely met. College being more expensive than they though and most absolutes and raised shuttering at the idea of marrying lower.

Quite unlike their higher ups, commonfolk wear very little color. Sticking instead to the much cheaper grays and browns. Pops of colour in the form of lipstick or jewelry however is common amongst the women. Many not being able to afford proper masks the men instead resort to large hoods, equipped with mesh or fishnet face coverings, to obscure their features. Women however often prefer to use veils or headscarfs. The very few real mask seen are a simple hardened clay, in it's natural earthy colour. Outfits are kept just as simple, basic floor length dresses and cloaks. Some forgoing skirts for more efficient pants.

Unmentionables

The scum on a persons feet. Or at least that's how well they're regarded. Often reduced to criminal activities to stay alive. Common professions include thievery and prostitution. Many don't even get the benefit of working in the few legalised brothels in the city, instead resorting to prowl the streets for customers.

Unmentionables wear whatever they can scavenge or fashion together themselves. Resulting in patchwork robes for either gender and lacking any form of face covering.

Interested? PM a character skelton!

CS

Name:
Age:
Rank:
Profession:
History:
RP Sample:

Potterverse craving! (1x1)

I PMed you :)

Potterverse craving! (1x1)

Hey, I'm looking to roleplay something within the Potterverse if someone is down. I'm down for doing it canon, next gen or marauders. Also would be cool to just take the wizard world and create our own story, but whatever is cool with me. I do want someone who uses proper grammar and dishes out decent sized posts, one-two paragraphs at the least would be awesome. Less can be understood if we hit a deadspot, but otherwise please keep away from it. Also: thesaurus', thanks. I do currently work and attend college, so my posts might be few and somewhat far between however they shouldn't be anymore than 3-4 days, unless otherwise stated. Another thing is that I don't really do the whole character skeleton lot, I usually have my characters personality and background prepared, but I like to have them adapt in accordance with the other character(s) and story so that it's more dynamic, I can do a CS if it's absolutely dire but I'd prefer simply a name, picture and other vital info (In this case it'd be house, blood-status, etc.). Soooo, yup. If this interests you then feel free to shoot me a PM and we can work things out.

If this doesn't interest you, but you'd still like to RP something else with me, feel free to ask. No guarantee I'll say yes, but the worse I can do is say no. Thanks! :D

Potterverse craving! (1x1)

Wrong section, sorry. Can someone delete?

Survivors RP

Reece let out a whistle when the girl introduced herself, "Daang, maybe you were first class then." It was pretty surprising, he had expected Karls daughter to be more... rugged looking. Very sporty, like her father. Reece had worked with the man before, it was his trucks that distributed the footballers novelty jerseys. Quite a deal that had turned out to be, he made millions off of it. It certainly helped that Landucci's agent wasn't the brightest and agreed to obscenely high stipend, not that Reece minded. He listened to the injured man berate the girl as she went on about help. "People are definitely looking for us," He said putting particular emphasis on the fact he was referring to the three of them specifically. "But Vincie here's right, they won't get here till night. Maybe not even until morning." He looked like he was contemplating something, "We should worry about getting through the night, rescue and help will come second to that."

Suddenly a woman who had situated herself about as far from the other survivors as possible started singing, quite loudly too. Reece cringed, his head still throbbing from his likely concussion. It seemed to only amplify the pain that seared through his brain. Turning around in his spot, he looked to where the girl stood. She had apparently set herself up her own little camp. "Oi!" He shouted for her attention, "Shaddup will ya? Some people have headaches here y'know!" Reeces voice echoed throughout the small hovel of survivors to the girl. Most people had head injuries and undoubtedly suffered from headaches that matched his own and needed rest. Others too were trying to sleep off other injuries, and having someone belting at them wasn't helping. Not at the moment, anyway.

Survivors RP

Reece laughed a bit at the mans statement, "Just another battle-scar, my friend." Although if he were being honest, it'd probably be the only scar he'd gotten since childhood. Of all places to get one too, it just had to be his forehead. So much for his stunning good looks. He puffed up a bit, well as much as he could, when the man commented on his choice of wear. "Well it is some of the best from the D'angelo line. Custom ordered." He held the collar of the jacket, as if showing of a fine piece of art. To a more common person it was just another suit, but to those well educated it was a display of good fashion, not to mention good fortune. Reece had a feeling he was going to get along with this guy. Taking the bottle back placed on the ground beside him. "Reece Davies, pleasure," He spoke with a clear sense of superiority. Turning to face the girl he gave a slightly perplexed look, "That's right, you never did give me your] name, girl." He cut off her little monologue with the statement. Reece didn't want to hear about their prospects of rescue just yet. It was just depressing, and they had enough of that going on around them as it was. When things had calmed down a bit, then maybe they could worry about things like that.

Out of the Blue, and Off the Throne(Ebby and Eskie)

Callum clutched at his chest, heart pounding widely. It felt as though his face would erupt in flames. Why on earth did it bother him so much? It was just a body. Certainly not the first naked man he'd seen. Granted, it was the first outside the family. His face was perfectly align with the floor completely lost within his, now very impure, thoughts. After several long moments of awkward silence, Callum slowly made it to his feet. His legs nearly buckled under him, still very obviously flustered. "I.. uh.. what?" His voice cracked in response. Now it was legitimately impossible for the boy to get anymore uncomfortable. He turned the face the pirate, hoping his face was back to it's normal colour. Although he seriously doubted it. He couldn't meet the mans eyes. Even with his lower half covered Callum still found himself lingering to the upper. Suddenly he bolted towards the door, shoving the book in Theodores hands as he passed. "Lovely work, gotta go, bye," He nearly shouted at an extreme speed, quickly leaving the cell.

Slamming the door behind him, Callum fell against it. He stayed there working hard to gather his breath, listening to whatever the pirate might be doing. It made sense now, why he was so interested in the man. A great demon had plagued Callum for many years. He had cut himself off from the world and seemingly was rid of it, but as all demons do it came back harder and stronger than ever before. No one but him knew about it, no one but he was allowed to. He would crush it out of him. His shaky legs took him out of the tower and back to the castle where he hid away in his chambers. The boy laid on his bed, numbness overwhelmed his body. It had all felt like some sort of nightmare, a delightful nightmare. Wait what? Delightful? He pushed the thought from his mind, it was the furthest thing from delightful. Awful, that's the word he meant.

He didn't move from his spot until the night had grown terribly dark. Only the light of the full moon outside allowed him to see. At some point his breathing had turned back to normal, but he wasn't sure when. He had tried to work out all the ways he could rid himself of his problem, none of them sat well with the prince. Glancing to the table that sat to to right. He gazed upon the pile of paper that sat upon it. An inkwell sat beside them, brand new quill laid ontop. His thoughts immediately raced to the pirate, who probably sat confused at his actions. He had bought the stationary for him. Pulling himself out of the bed he let his feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Standing felt almost foreign to him in the moment. He bent down to pick up the stationary, tucking it under his arm. With a glance he saw a glint of gold on the corner of the endtable. His doubloons. Snatching them up he tucked them in his pockets and made his way silently through the castle. Just as quietly he snuck through the courtyard, hoping the guards wouldn't see. Imagine if they saw him sneaking to the pirates cell in the dead of night, oh the stories they'd fabricate.

Callum was just as quiet and sly going up the stairs and to the cell door. When he finally faced the iron obstruction, he very gently lifted his fist to it. Knocking so quietly it was almost inaudible, hoping the man inside was awake. "Psst. It's me. I wanted to apologize for this morning," His voice was a quiet whisper, only getting in through the small slot in the door meant for food trays. He was waiting for some indication that it was safe to enter.

Survivors RP

Reece caught the glare from the young girl. He just scoffed at her, if looks could kill he would've been dead years ago. Glares were a common affair in the life of Mr. Davies. People all around him were always giving them, jealousy mostly. The poor envied his wealth, the stupid envied his cleverness and the smart and wealthy envied his good looks. It couldn't be denied, he really was the total package. Reece was aware of that, and tried to remind himself that common folk were simply not use to being around perfection. "Really, first class? Huh, I never would of guessed." Must of been one of those sweepstakes things, he figured. Occasionally common folk would win contests and get to taste the life of the important-class. Reece just shrugged at her refusal of the water, "Fine, die of dehydration. More for me." He was about to answer her question when she ran off. She helped the banshee of to the side of everyone and immediately darted back. Reece just gave her a look of annoyance, "I already told you my name. Did you lose your hearing in the crash or something?"

Struggling to stand back up, he gathered the blanket and shuffled his way over to the banshee. He was wearing a fine suit and looked vaguely familiar. Like Reece had seen him in a magazine or something. He laid the blanket down next to the injured man. "You look like someone worth knowing," Reece said as he situated himself onto the blanket, handing the remnants of the water to him. Then he turned to where the girl sat and gestured her over, "Everyone else here seems to have made their own little groups. Why shouldn't we?" He spoke smugly, "You might not look like much, kiddo. But you've got attitude, and attitude's what'll get you off this stinkhole." He pointed at himself before continuing, "Attitude, and connections."