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STATUS: Acquire child. 8 yrs ago
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- Old Guild Username: DarkGrey
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D A T A B A S E
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S E T T I N G
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S T O R Y
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I N H E R I T A N C E
A Legacy Reborn╚════════════════════════════════════════╝
P R E M I S E
Inheritance: A Legacy Reborn is a roleplay set within the setting of Katekyo Hitman Reborn! following the continuity of the manga rather than the anime. Much like its source material, this roleplay primary possesses elements modern-fantasy action and slice of life, and will detail the story of seven youths, the bonds they form, and the trials they must overcome along the way.
The core setting of this roleplay will be Namimori, Japan eighty years after Sawada Tsunayoshi ascended to the title of Vongola X. As a result, the Namimori of this roleplay is far more developed and modernized compared to its previous iteration--a full-fledged city, rather than a town--and the Vongola Famiglia is under the leadership of Vongola XI. Naturally, most of the characters of the original series will not be making an appearance.
The player characters of the roleplay are one of the seven potential candidates for the title of Vongola XII and Guardians. That said, they are are far from considered valid candidates by the mafia at large, and they themselves are likely unaware of the status imposed on them. While they start at the base of the potential, the intent is that the events of the roleplay will see them grow in power through the struggle against hardship and the lessons they learn from those around them. Character sheets should be generated with this intention in mind, both in terms of character and skillset.
Likewise, the guiding force for the plotline of this story is intended to be an equal balance of character and narrative. Although there are story arcs and key events planned out to drive the story forward, much like Katekyo Hitman Reborn! the roleplay is more about character interaction and development more than it is about beating up bad guys.
At any rate, the intention is to have fun since this is a roleplay, and since it's a collaborative effort by nature don't feel afraid to ask questions or contribute ideas.
E X P E C T A T I O N S
- All Fundamental Rules of the Guild apply, as well as all of the usual guidelines of RP etiquette: respect your GMs and fellow players; don't powergame, godmod, metagame, etc; communicate your problems and concerns; and so on and so forth. We've all been doing this for some time, we all know how this works. I trust you all to do what's best for development and story, know the capabilities of your character, and ensure that nobody feels unwelcome.
- There are no hard rules as far post length or frequency goes other than the usual "no one-liners", but the loosely enforced timeline for posting is about one to two weeks, but otherwise I won't be moderating posts extensively or hounding people for posts. As long as there is proper characterization and sufficient content to reply to, there shouldn't be a problem with briefer posts, and if there are going to be schedule issues, just let everyone know so we can make the necessary arrangements and we'll be golden.
- Typically, the GM is the one that sets the expectations and gets final say on all discussion related to the RP. While this holds true for most OOC conflicts, it should be clear that I'm willing to hear peoples' arguments out as far as the IC and character ideas are concerned. Generally speaking, if an idea has merit to story and character progression, I'll hear it out; don't be afraid to point something out or suggest ideas if you feel the desire to.
- I reserve the right to append this section as necessary.
- You are assumed to have read this section if you post a character sheet.
Nobody's stopped by for it, sooo....
Think I might low key nab one of Saarebas' for my temple boy
Traveling alone was rarely a good idea.
This was a lesson that Arius of House Badal would keep close to heart once the splitting headache left him.
Finally coming to, the young man's senses were flooded with information. First came the scent, that of smoke and dank earth, which tinged the air. Next was the sound of many useless things -- torches crackling, moisture dripping, metal creaking -- and more important things -- the words of people, and the pattering of footsteps in the distance. It was relief and worry in the same breath. The voices seemed not to be a threat, but the sound of the latter was definitely a cause for worry. Were they coming closer? Arius wasn't completely sure, but he wouldn't take the chance either way.
But before he could do anything about that, he had to first get out.
Arius' eyes snapped open, and he sat himself up right, leaning back against the bars of his cage to survey the situation at hand. Dim-light, boxes, cages, and people, both within those cages and without. One of them had the key, and had just let another out -- an ally? No, not yet. It would be stupid to assume that just because he'd let one out, he'd let everyone else.
Now then, what could Arius do in this situation by himself?
Bypass the lock? No tools on hand. All he had was a signet ring which he promptly took off and pocketed, the leather armor that he was wearing, two cantrips, and three spells at his disposal. None of them would help.
Blast the lock open with arcane might? No, that was pointlessly threatening; moreover, it was loud, and if he could hear their captors, they could hear him.
So that left...
Asking nicely.
Fortunately, the two seemed like reasonable people from what he could tell. While Arius would rather not be relying on the kindness of strangers to get by, this was his best option for the time being. At any rate, the elf and the human were likely not the ruffians from before who'd incapacitated him so rudely, but he'd be keeping his wits about himself regardless.
"Ahem. I will say I must agree with the elf and the halfling on this one; of course I am a tad biased as you can see," the noble cut in. He raised both hands in a show of peace. "I assure you that I am no threat; I'd very much enjoy escaping just as much as you all would, and the gods know many raindrops are what make the storm."
His right hand inclined and cast its index finger towards the corridor leading out of their makeshift cell room.
"Just as well, I would advise you to make haste. I can hear footsteps, and who knows when they will arrive."
I'll spec Artemis then. Animal speech is fun. You can do Disney princess things.
where Hestia the Bestia @
I'm probably good for any of the five who start with A, tbh. I probably won't make a reserve just yet.
I'm probably good for any of the five who start with A, tbh. I probably won't make a reserve just yet.
Hm. I might have a character concept I could use for this.
Enrico Modena
Sports Field, Trespiano, Italy
At the foot of the bleachers — right next to the coach’s seat, the bench and the haphazard stack of the team's belongings — sat a young Enrico Modena, looking all the world as if he didn't want to be there. Eyes locked on a book and expression far too austere, the fifteen year old looked rather out of place in the sports field during this bright, sunny and hope-filled afternoon. But regardless of his apathetic countenance, it was an undeniable fact that the youth had earned his right to be there, and was himself an essential part of the personnel. After all, if someone were to suffer an injury, it would be up to him to ensure they were properly taken care of.
...But nobody was injured right now, so he would read just his book.
Football wasn't his sport anyway.
As his eyes ran across lines of text, his mind wandered towards his apparent schedule for rest of the afternoon: Granny had slated him for a shift at the restaurant later, and he had to bring a few finished books back to the library before they started accumulating late fees and besmirching his reputation for punctual returns. With any luck, he could add the one he was reading now to that list as well, and pick up the last book in the series. Beyond that, his Saturday night was to be spent alone and devoid of activity, unlike his morning. Most people would've been disappointed by that fact, but most people also had active social lives.
Enrico was not most people.
Time passed, and the hyperactive din of sporting events, which for Enrico had long since blurred into an indistinct background noise, was cut through by the sharp screech of electrical feedback and a vulgar declaration, and followed by silence. Enrico looked up to see what had caused such a sudden halt to all the activity...
...and at that moment, something that wasn’t his problem became his problem.
The medic set his book down pages-first onto the bulky, teal first aid box resting on his lap, made a cone around his mouth with his hands, and directed all his attention to the announcer's booth. "Hey Announcer!" he called out across the field, "You're annoying people, so please shut up or think of better jokes. Unless it's food poisoning, I don't wanna see you in the hospital because of poor taste."
Enrico lowered his hands from his mouth and gripped the sides of his book, propping it up. However, he wasn't done just yet; the announcer may have cast the first stone, but neither party was without sin. “Don't think you've gotten off easy, Eleven," Enrico's sharp gaze fell upon the disgruntled young Palladino boy, "That's not how we treat expensive school equipment. More importantly, it makes my job harder if you start busting spectators' heads over weak shit like that. Chill out, please and thank you."
And with that, his job was done.
Enrico lifted the book up and resumed reading from where he had left off and tuning out everything else, content that he had done his best to mitigate future injury. After all, it was as the saying went: "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure".
...What about his sister? Here was another saying: "physician, heal thyself". Or in this case:
"Congratulations, Alex. If you're okay, that means you can patch yourself up."
Sports Field, Trespiano, Italy
At the foot of the bleachers — right next to the coach’s seat, the bench and the haphazard stack of the team's belongings — sat a young Enrico Modena, looking all the world as if he didn't want to be there. Eyes locked on a book and expression far too austere, the fifteen year old looked rather out of place in the sports field during this bright, sunny and hope-filled afternoon. But regardless of his apathetic countenance, it was an undeniable fact that the youth had earned his right to be there, and was himself an essential part of the personnel. After all, if someone were to suffer an injury, it would be up to him to ensure they were properly taken care of.
...But nobody was injured right now, so he would read just his book.
Football wasn't his sport anyway.
As his eyes ran across lines of text, his mind wandered towards his apparent schedule for rest of the afternoon: Granny had slated him for a shift at the restaurant later, and he had to bring a few finished books back to the library before they started accumulating late fees and besmirching his reputation for punctual returns. With any luck, he could add the one he was reading now to that list as well, and pick up the last book in the series. Beyond that, his Saturday night was to be spent alone and devoid of activity, unlike his morning. Most people would've been disappointed by that fact, but most people also had active social lives.
Enrico was not most people.
Time passed, and the hyperactive din of sporting events, which for Enrico had long since blurred into an indistinct background noise, was cut through by the sharp screech of electrical feedback and a vulgar declaration, and followed by silence. Enrico looked up to see what had caused such a sudden halt to all the activity...
...and at that moment, something that wasn’t his problem became his problem.
The medic set his book down pages-first onto the bulky, teal first aid box resting on his lap, made a cone around his mouth with his hands, and directed all his attention to the announcer's booth. "Hey Announcer!" he called out across the field, "You're annoying people, so please shut up or think of better jokes. Unless it's food poisoning, I don't wanna see you in the hospital because of poor taste."
Enrico lowered his hands from his mouth and gripped the sides of his book, propping it up. However, he wasn't done just yet; the announcer may have cast the first stone, but neither party was without sin. “Don't think you've gotten off easy, Eleven," Enrico's sharp gaze fell upon the disgruntled young Palladino boy, "That's not how we treat expensive school equipment. More importantly, it makes my job harder if you start busting spectators' heads over weak shit like that. Chill out, please and thank you."
And with that, his job was done.
Enrico lifted the book up and resumed reading from where he had left off and tuning out everything else, content that he had done his best to mitigate future injury. After all, it was as the saying went: "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure".
...What about his sister? Here was another saying: "physician, heal thyself". Or in this case:
"Congratulations, Alex. If you're okay, that means you can patch yourself up."
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