HokumPocus

An Adventurer's Calling | [Full!]

Jessica

Name: Jessica Parker

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Class: Brawler

Appearance:



Jessica's main outfit consists of a white dress shirt under a suede coat and messily made tie with diagonal cream and red stripes. She wears a short skirt the same color of her coat over a pair of shorts. The oddly formal ensemble clashes with a pair of old trusty red and white sneakers and fingerless gloves, whose tacky fake leather is dyed the color of strawberry syrup.

Personality: Jessica "Punch 'em" Parker, otherwise known as patient zero among anger management counselors, is the result of god trying to make a human sock 'em bop 'em robot. It's not that she goes out of her way to seek violence, it's just that thinking hurts and punching is cool. Word on the block is that she joined a kickboxing tournament and won by punching. Her old room was covered in horse posters, not because she liked them but because they neatly covered the various holes in the wall.

Jessica tends to get fired up over the worst ideas imaginable, and will often quarrel with anyone who knows that eating glue and amateur parkour is bad. She is fond of using ridiculous, incoherent phrases instead of curse words from years of being scolded by teachers.

Likes: Punching, Spicy food, Eurobeat, Initial D, Punching again, Competitive videogames

Dislikes: Tea, Counting, Being told to grow up

Notable Traits: Jessica vaguely fears and respects equines, after having recurring dreams as a child where her horse posters would eat her.

Belongings: A journal and the ugliest pair of gloves the world has ever seen

Abilities: Jessica has gained the ability to use placement magic. Punching can hurt the attacker due to forces recoiling on their own body, but if the fist in question were to warp from point A to point B, the fist would escape recoil damage due to the universe trying to calculate what just happened and giving up halfway through, resulting in a consistent way to inflict damage. If she were to be strong enough she'd be able to warp her body short distances.

Jessica's parkour adventures have made her mildly athletic enough to climb, crawl and jump well past the level of the average person.

History: Jessica was raised in an orphanage and sent to a public school so bad that it was legally classified as a national threat to world stability. Eventually she got used to the hectic atmosphere and the sight of seeing a car on fire twice a week. One day while heading home from school, Jessica attempted to stop two men from mugging a teenager, seemingly succeeding until one pulled out a firearm. She's new to the afterlife, only having been re-alive for a couple of days.

Other: This hasn't been mentioned before, and is a tiny detail to her character. Jessica likes punching.

An Adventurer's Calling | [Full!]

Jessica

Name: Jessica Parker

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Class: Brawler

Appearance:



Jessica's main outfit consists of a white dress shirt under a suede coat and messily made tie with diagonal cream and red stripes. She wears a short skirt the same color of her coat over a pair of shorts. The oddly formal ensemble clashes with a pair of old trusty red and white sneakers and fingerless gloves, whose tacky fake leather is dyed the color of strawberry syrup.

Personality: Jessica "Punch 'em" Parker, otherwise known as patient zero among anger management counselors, is the result of god trying to make a human sock 'em bop 'em robot. It's not that she goes out of her way to seek violence, it's just that thinking hurts and punching is cool. Word on the block is that she joined a kickboxing tournament and won by punching. Her old room was covered in horse posters, not because she liked them but because they neatly covered the various holes in the wall.

Jessica tends to get fired up over the worst ideas imaginable, and will often quarrel with anyone who knows that eating glue and amateur parkour is bad. She is fond of using ridiculous, incoherent phrases instead of curse words from years of being scolded by teachers.

Likes: Punching, Spicy food, Eurobeat, Initial D, Punching again, Competitive videogames

Dislikes: Tea, Counting, Being told to grow up

Notable Traits: Jessica vaguely fears and respects equines, after having recurring dreams as a child where her horse posters would eat her.

Belongings: A journal and the ugliest pair of gloves the world has ever seen

Abilities: Jessica has gained the ability to use placement magic. Punching can hurt the attacker due to forces recoiling on their own body, but if the fist in question were to warp from point A to point B, the fist would escape recoil damage due to the universe trying to calculate what just happened and giving up halfway through, resulting in a consistent way to inflict damage. If she were to be strong enough she'd be able to warp her body short distances.

Jessica's parkour adventures have made her mildly athletic enough to climb, crawl and jump well past the level of the average person.

History: Jessica was raised in an orphanage and sent to a public school so bad that it was legally classified as a national threat to world stability. Eventually she got used to the hectic atmosphere and the sight of seeing a car on fire twice a week. One day while heading home from school, Jessica attempted to stop two men from mugging a teenager, seemingly succeeding until one pulled out a firearm. She's new to the afterlife, only having been re-alive for a couple of days.

Other: This hasn't been mentioned before, and is a tiny detail to her character. Jessica likes punching.

An Adventurer's Calling | Looking for Interest!

Surprise, Poi



I've never dipped my toes into the anime side of roleplaying, but it looks to be a light-hearted premise with tomfoolery, which is interesting *chin in hand emoji*

Blue Fog - A Survival and Society Building Game

Sieve was a little surprised by the fervor coming from his impromptu sanitization squadron. Usually he was told by his superiors where to go and to not die again. A solid bit of advice, I think.

The field's floor was adorned in strange white runes that seemingly lay dormant. Half a dozen creatures that appeared to be a fusion of rabbit, crab and shield began charging around, unaffected by whatever powers lay in the lines.

His inappropriate moment of wonder was interrupted as soon as his instincts kicked in. Sieve ran as fast as his chunky boots could go. While the game-orb seemed seemed like a good zone to reach, violent squealing noises from all directions called for a change of plans. The skeleton was now near the middle of the field, speedily waddling near the edge until a lone opponent locked eyesockets with him.

A quick look at the enormous silver automaton in the runezone inspired Sieve. I'm normal! I'm as normal as butter and toast! In a prim and irritated manner the doctor stepped out of his boots and neatly set them a smidge outside the combat zone, exposing slivers of white through the movements of his robe. Oh, how lewd of me!

The creature began to charge at the indecent sack of bones with the strength of a steam train. A wall of solid air would do nothing to stop this abomination. Unless... Sieve recalled raising a wall of solid air with his wand, but what about his left hand? In a quick hand movement Sieve found himself controlling a sphere of cycling air. He found that manipulating it was like crushing a paper ball. A compact shape was stronger, faster and more precise, but became harder to surpress without the whole mess being undone. The contestant released the tension in his bony fingers and stretched them as far as he could.

Wind magicks, be my aide!

His words had no effect on the outcome, but his subconscious hid the fact so as to not hurt anyone's feelings in the figurative office in his head. The sphere streaked in a crisp, straight line at his opponent. Sieve let out a cowardly yelp and began running away.

Blue Fog - A Survival and Society Building Game

A human man with his back turned to him was angrily muttering to himself. Wand in hand, Sieve stood on the tips of his toes and poked the man's shoulder. At last, someone who can recognize me.

"Greetings, I am one of Lord Cogshire's plague doctors, tasked with sanitizing our majesty's beloved kingdom."

The formal, pre-scripted greeting was the first thing he was taught shortly after gaining sentience. He was proud at how professional it sounded compared to the first month of his job. The man turned and Sieve immediately stopped stroking his ego.

The man had no skin, and all that lay beneath was completely visible. An intricate system of muscles, fibers and cartilage that pulled and contracted to make him seem like a clockwork contraption. The man's face began secreting small drops of blood as he grumbled on.

"Why don't ya people ever learn ta' jus' BUZZ off! I'm tired of answerin' all your dumb questions! My face is PERFECTLY fine. "

"Sorry sir, but I had no intention of asking something so rude! I was just wondering if anyone knew what kingdom we were in. You've no need to fear, as I'm different too! I've no skin OR muscles on me, I'm just a skeleton!"

Sieve's wand, much like most plague doctor accessories, served no real purpose and only existed to reassure children and mad folk that they were trustworty. He would always half-intentionally incorporate it into his body movements when dealing with fiery people.

"JUST a skeleton? That's DISGUSTING!"

If Sieve had a mouth, it would have formed a small frown.

The man made extended eye contact with the doctor and spoke again, with unwavering disgust for everything around him.

"Listen kid. If you got a mark on ya, you can pass that stupid forcefield they got over there. See that bozo on the floor made outta rock over there? That IDIOT kept slammin' into it, no luck. No one's even sure if ee's dead or not, 'cause he's made of, well, MARBLE or somethin'. How 'bout you try it out, come on, don't be a wimp. That accent o' yours is startin' ta get on my nerves."

The man reared to give Sieve a hard shove, causing the doctor to raise his wand. A hard wall of air made his arms go in different directions upon contact, surprising them both. After the man cursed and left, he lifted the hand-me-down robes and proceeded towards the barrier in a way that could be described as "paranoid princess wearing a large beak on her head".

As Sieve advanced past the barrier the cavity where a his heart should be was figuratively pounding. Wind magicks? With this... painted stick? Me?... Of course, advanced wind magicks was what kept his bones locked into place, but actually using it? It made the skeleton giddy. Far ahead of him the silhouettes of several people could be seen. No one behind me, that's good. Sieve made a quick mental note to use Nothing instead of no one and began to clunkily walk over to the party.

Blue Fog - A Survival and Society Building Game

The sky's orange flared and rose as civilian evacuation airship No. 21 was engulfed in flames, and Sieve could only watch as it collided with another of it's kind to spiral into a sunset of cruelty across the mechanical city below it. The plague was unstoppable, the war was in full swing. He was an organic machine made to surpress disease, but had failed so greatly that it left Sieve numb to where even coherent thoughts were locked away.

Quietly he stood up from the rocky floor and gingerly grabbed both sides of his robe with a pair of doll-like bone hands covered in coal colored gloves. The rhythm of his steps rang louder in his skull until it dominated all else. Clank, clank, clank, pause. The sound ended, and the crashing of waves on the shore began to receive his undivided attention. Even from hundreds of meters above the noise managed to strike his frail bones. Sieve turned his head mechanically to stare at the ruined city. Sieve cast his gaze on the shore and gripped his robes tightly. Sieve jumped.

It couldn't have been the afterlife, that was for those gifted with a body and soul. The skeleton his mind occupied belonged to a man who quietly died due to the plague. He's the one in heaven, not me. Sieve made sure his plague doctor uniform was in perfect order, or at least as good as it could be for something so old and worn out. He saw the crowd in the distance, dots of color mingling with the fog made it seem like the dust and air from opening and old book again. Fifteen meters away a flamboyant figure lay in the grass, seemingly unbothered by the change of scenery. It had it's back turned to Sieve.

As the plague doctor cautiously approached the silhouette, it turned in one smooth motion and stared. It was a skeleton.

The most important rule of being a skeletal plague doctor was to never reveal an inch of bone, as it would reveal your unnatural, subhuman status. Doctors of this category were dressed head to toe in the darkest, most form-concealing clothing available and at times it seemed like the only reason they didn't waddle around inside a wooden box with eye holes was the mobility. They were considered civil servants till death, and were employed to scout zones before their human counterparts could help, due to their plague immunity.

The stranger before him was dressed in a tight green dress with cleavage that showed a woman's ribcage. She had an enormous hat adorned with larger than life feathers and flower petals. Her skull was painted intricately and vividly, an exaggeration of what a human woman would touch herself up with. Sieve immediately felt disgust, envy and fear after processing what his sockets were showing him. This woman broke every guideline on blending in, and seemingly introduced a few more just to break them and use them as flower petals for her dress. She was everything he could never be.

Her bones remained motionless, but the rose red around her lips flared as she spoke, every word haughtily soaring over the six months of etiquette that was hammered into his skull after he was reanimated.

"Are you new here, little bird? They say that those blessed with marks on their hands are allowed to enter the caverns behind you. Poor me, for my hands are nothing but bone! Ohohohoho!"

Sieve quietly slid his left glove off, in part to show the woman their similarities and to see if he had been "chosen". The stranger caressed his bare hand in surprise and spoke in a soft tone.

"Una calavera..."

He sharply withdrew it, not being used to such unconservative behavior. At the woman's request, sieve dislodged his avian mask from his uniform, revealing his skull for the first time in what had felt like an eternity. Her anticipation quickly turned to shock, an emotion that was reflected in the reds, blues and oranges that were streaked on her face.

"Interesting, fortune favors our people. On your skull is a simple, round heart. You're not near my level, but it's a start. Enter the caves and return alive for us, ohohoho!!!"

Sieve couldn't remember well what he did before appearing in this strange new place, but he thought about seeking answers on the nature of this new world. He looked at the crowded zone far away from him and felt motivated to take action.

After suiting up again, a pair of doll-like skeleton hands gingerly gripped the sides of a grayed out robe, and a head mechanically turned to his new destination. Sieve ran.

Blue Fog - A Survival and Society Building Game

Sieve

Name:Sieve

Age:27 year old body, six months since being reanimated

Gender: Male skeleton, no pronoun preference

Race: Undead human

Appearance:

Sieve is the reanimated skeleton of a plague victim. After six months of being re-alive he has been stripped of his flesh and is now literally a set of bones held together by magic. A hyper-conservative plague doctor uniform allows him to blend in a bit, although months of wear and tear have caused it to gray out and have a few rough edges here and there. His wand is made of charred wood and is worthless in actual combat situations, serving only as a decoration for civilians to trust him. It was carefully picked to not be too big, so as too not look ridiculous when held by a pair of suspiciously thin hands.

His hat is stitched into his outfit, and is made out of a thick and affordable leather. Sieve's metal mask has more scratches and dings than any headwear has the right to, and by his old world's safety regulations is a safety violation in every stretch of the word.

Sieve's robes are sewn from a thin and surprisingly rough cloth and require him to awkwardly curtsy in formal situations, hiding his pvc pipe shaped body and a pair of muddy, chunky work boots.

EDIT: Forgot to include his height, 5'6".

Personality: The few other plague prototypes that became sentient either rejected their role in life or directly rebelled. Sieve saw the foreign organization that created him as heroes and would naively follow orders to avoid the shameful feeling of being a burden. While he lied to himself about voluntarily saving people, the truth was that Sieve was afraid of being alone and without purpose. After the events on his old world he matured significantly, but is now riddled with the trauma of possibly being the only survivor of a doomed world.

Sieve is optimistic by nature and tends to treat serious things as if they were no big deal, and vice versa. His obsession with proving himself has ramped up to higher levels now that he's gotten stronger, while simultaneously guilting him when he feels that he has not done enough.

As a plague doctor he's used to entering dangerous environments and being the mine canary of his groups, developing a reckless streak over time. Charging skull-first into danger is what he was quite literally born to do. "Honor" means nothing to him and Sieve will happily run away if it means being safe.

Biography: In a distant universe, a victorian steampunk world took it's last doomed wheeze. Artificial plagues created by necromancers killed in the hundreds, all for the sake of obtaining clean bodies. Foreign powers realized that the threat would soon leak into their lands and concluded that the only way to neutralize death was by creating more death. Sieve was one of the first of the undead created by imprisoned necromancers for the sake of controlling disease, an ideal task for someone unaffected by pestilence.

After six months of working as a plague doctor Sieve encountered the end of his journey. His travels revealed that outsiders only looked at his homeland as a weapons testing ground and a longterm human psychology test, and that he was a failed prototype for virtue of being sentient. His creator was long dead, his human colleagues were being ordered to destroy him on sight and the plague spread to every nation like a ravenous bonfire. With no where else to go Sieve fell into a deep despair, having learned that his efforts towards saving others were in vain. It was then that he crossed into a strange new world, sensing the ability to try again.

Class: A plague doctor whose abilites translate into a scout character. Has a large round heart marked on his forehead.

Gift: Sieve can "slide" from place to place by carefully focusing on the wind keeping his frame intact to push him forward. It's only slightly faster than running, but is silent.

Natural Powers: Sieve has the ability to control air, like the kind his skeleton is magically held by. This allows him to use "hard" air and "soft" air. The former allows the creation of a rectangular barrier of air that deflects attacks. Hard air is noisy when used successfully, as the whip-crack noise of the sound barrier implies it has defended the caster well.

"Soft" air is used for offensive purposes. It's a small sphere of cycling air that can be used as a projectile. Sieve can also use it to land softly from high distances, but it's not advisable if there's another way available due to how draining it would be.

Talents: Skilled at using his wind magic and agile enough to dodge attacks that would have otherwise obliterated his skeletal form. Sieve isn't a master of social engineering but can avoid revealing his identity for vital amounts of time when dealing with regular people. He is also knowledgeable on disease, although that may be debatable in the new world.

Weaknesses: Being aware that he was created for the sake of saving people only to fail completely at it has filled Sieve with a mildly destructive urge to do good, as well as a crippling fear of being seen as "Lesser".

Being reliant on magical air to keep your skeleton put together means that if Sieve were to be 100% cut off from magic he would be a pile of bones and not much else. While damage to individual bones isn't fatal, cracking the area of his skull that contains his heart mark would instantly kill him.

Edgy song that surprisingly fits

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0X4KVbjO9KY

Videogames you like but no one ever talks about

Viva Piñata

A VERY strange, slighty experimental "gardening" game that was based off of a saturday morning cartoon, it had all the signs of a terrible game. That was until you actually played it and realized how insanely polished it was, how unique the visuals were and how there really wasn't anything else on the market close to it.

Game reviewers gave it mediocre scores due to it "not having a clear demographic" which doesn't make sense imo and to this day it still is under the radar.

Blue Fog - A Survival and Society Building Game

Sieve

Name:Sieve

Age:27 year old body, six months since being reanimated

Gender: Male skeleton, no pronoun preference

Race: Undead human

Appearance:

Sieve is the reanimated skeleton of a plague victim. After six months of being re-alive he has been stripped of his flesh and is now literally a set of bones held together by magic. A hyper-conservative plague doctor uniform allows him to blend in a bit, although months of wear and tear have caused it to gray out and have a few rough edges here and there. His wand is made of charred wood and is worthless in actual combat situations, serving only as a decoration for civilians to trust him. It was carefully picked to not be too big, so as too not look ridiculous when held by a pair of suspiciously thin hands.

His hat is stitched into his outfit, and is made out of a thick and affordable leather. Sieve's metal mask has more scratches and dings than any headwear has the right to, and by his old world's safety regulations is a safety violation in every stretch of the word.

Sieve's robes are sewn from a thin and surprisingly rough cloth and require him to awkwardly curtsy in formal situations, hiding his pvc pipe shaped body and a pair of muddy, chunky work boots.

EDIT: Forgot to include his height, 5'6".

Personality: The few other plague prototypes that became sentient either rejected their role in life or directly rebelled. Sieve saw the foreign organization that created him as heroes and would naively follow orders to avoid the shameful feeling of being a burden. While he lied to himself about voluntarily saving people, the truth was that Sieve was afraid of being alone and without purpose. After the events on his old world he matured significantly, but is now riddled with the trauma of possibly being the only survivor of a doomed world.

Sieve is optimistic by nature and tends to treat serious things as if they were no big deal, and vice versa. His obsession with proving himself has ramped up to higher levels now that he's gotten stronger, while simultaneously guilting him when he feels that he has not done enough.

As a plague doctor he's used to entering dangerous environments and being the mine canary of his groups, developing a reckless streak over time. Charging skull-first into danger is what he was quite literally born to do. "Honor" means nothing to him and Sieve will happily run away if it means being safe.

Biography: In a distant universe, a victorian steampunk world took it's last doomed wheeze. Artificial plagues created by necromancers killed in the hundreds, all for the sake of obtaining clean bodies. Foreign powers realized that the threat would soon leak into their lands and concluded that the only way to neutralize death was by creating more death. Sieve was one of the first of the undead created by imprisoned necromancers for the sake of controlling disease, an ideal task for someone unaffected by pestilence.

After six months of working as a plague doctor Sieve encountered the end of his journey. His travels revealed that outsiders only looked at his homeland as a weapons testing ground and a longterm human psychology test, and that he was a failed prototype for virtue of being sentient. His creator was long dead, his human colleagues were being ordered to destroy him on sight and the plague spread to every nation like a ravenous bonfire. With no where else to go Sieve fell into a deep despair, having learned that his efforts towards saving others were in vain. It was then that he crossed into a strange new world, sensing the ability to try again.

Class: A plague doctor whose abilites translate into a scout character. Has a large round heart marked on his forehead.

Gift: Sieve can "slide" from place to place by carefully focusing on the wind keeping his frame intact to push him forward. It's only slightly faster than running, but is silent.

Natural Powers: Sieve has the ability to control air, like the kind his skeleton is magically held by. This allows him to use "hard" air and "soft" air. The former allows the creation of a rectangular barrier of air that deflects attacks. Hard air is noisy when used successfully, as the whip-crack noise of the sound barrier implies it has defended the caster well.

"Soft" air is used for offensive purposes. It's a small sphere of cycling air that can be used as a projectile. Sieve can also use it to land softly from high distances, but it's not advisable if there's another way available due to how draining it would be.

Talents: Skilled at using his wind magic and agile enough to dodge attacks that would have otherwise obliterated his skeletal form. Sieve isn't a master of social engineering but can avoid revealing his identity for vital amounts of time when dealing with regular people. He is also knowledgeable on disease, although that may be debatable in the new world.

Weaknesses: Being aware that he was created for the sake of saving people only to fail completely at it has filled Sieve with a mildly destructive urge to do good, as well as a crippling fear of being seen as "Lesser".

Being reliant on magical air to keep your skeleton put together means that if Sieve were to be 100% cut off from magic he would be a pile of bones and not much else. While damage to individual bones isn't fatal, cracking the area of his skull that contains his heart mark would instantly kill him.

Edgy song that surprisingly fits

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0X4KVbjO9KY

HEWWO? *Adjusts cowboy hat that is on top of another cowboy hat*

Thanks broskii

I'm not really sure if I should include anything else, I'm pretty sure I covered all my bases for everyone who misclicked and ended up in this thread.

Edit: By the time I hit send another person commented, Ich bin Fahrrad (Thanks in german) Poi