HokumPocus

Interest Check: The Burning Sword & The Seven Rings (A Roleplay based on Sonic & The Secret Rings) (Roleplay details inside)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ E. L. Gainsborough ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Greetings Stranger,

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I’m not surprised to see your kind here. Many adventurers have traveled this way since the recent troubles had passed. No doubt you’ve heard about the tragedy that befell the community here at the Guild. Some say that the Guildfall, bane of role players, is slowly enveloping the community once again. I don’t know if I believe that, but I have noticed from time to time that posts or players will mysteriously disappear. They disappear without word and without notice, hidden by the leaders of our community. Maybe it’s nothing. But rumors and sideways glances seems to trail in their wake. You see, shortly before Guildfall had occurred similar disappearances were common as well and strange rumor began to ravage even the most common parts of the guild. But until more evidence is uncovered I’ll remain here within this community and so should you. You’ll find interesting role play ideas across all the various topics categories here on the Guild and a few of mine or ones that I participate in as well. However, I would make sure you save your own information before the shadow that fell over the Guild before the fall once again consumes us all. But if you’re still alive before then, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate any role playing needs you may have if I can.

* * * * * * * *

You should talk to some of the others, too. Guildmod has sent you a PM package to add with your new arrival and there are any number of veterans who are more than qualified to answer your questions. Maybe they can tell you more.

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~ Cystra City - The Art of Sound ~

What makes you think that? It's a good post, lol

Hello!

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THIS THREAD

Hello!

Eh, I disagree. If you've been roleplaying since you were twelve then I don't think it's necessary to confine yourself to the spam forums. Find an RP you like and dive in fam

~ Cystra City - The Art of Sound ~

removed this for hard to explain reasons

~ Cystra City - The Art of Sound ~

Location: Centre Stage, Courtyard / Present: Abigail @RumikoOhara, Edward @Polaris North

Hollywood actress Miranda Cox set her character's crystal tumbler down onto the bar's rich mahogany table with a hard clack. An uneven line of B-list actors began to fill the fake bar's uncomfortably new seats and greeted her in the same coldly warm fashion, raising her career onto their shoulders like runny whip cream underneath a sweet red cherry. She belted out expectant laugh no. 7 and stiffly flipped her hair with a red manicured hand, aware for every single second of her time melting under the golden heat of the cameras that she was a product for consumption. As soon as her hand finished its slow arc to her thigh, the woman tilted her head ever so slightly, beckoning the audience to enjoy their viewing experience. It was like soft fizz after pouring cherry soda. She spoke through the camera, directly into the viewer's eyes. "Having a good night, gentlemen?"

Victoria leaned forward on her orthopedic computer chair and quickly selected the replay button on her laptop, as if it was going to escape if she didn't click it fast enough. Miranda Nicholas Cox was the lead actress to this year's most acclaimed film, The One Night to Remember. Victoria praised the movie for its success in attracting its target demographic. The forgettable, moderately attractive young men that made the bulk of the movie acted as stand-ins for the male viewers. It was an escapist power fantasy that seemed to prey on young men's insecurities regarding wealth and friendship in the modern age. Miranda was playing both the eye candy and the female power fantasy of the film, unsurprisingly solidifying herself as the apex contemporary woman after claiming award after award for her performance(s). The internet, it seemed, couldn't get enough of her. Her line when greeting the movie's cast members became second to none in terms of online presence all over the world.

Victoria watched the snippet again and again, studying the structure of Miranda's hand as it flipped through her conditioned hair. During replay number thirty eight she noted the way that Miranda had her ring finger slightly raised, when compared to the rest of her flat and stiff hand. On replay number thirty nine Victoria noted that Miranda's index finger was slightly lowered as well, combining with the other properties of her hand to form an elegant visual. Victoria began quietly hmmm..-ing to herself in a display of data extrapolation. She sleepily scribbled notes onto a pine green journal. After what felt like a few minutes she let out a sigh and closed her laptop. She had bags to pack.

---

Current BGM

Victoria arrived on the third day. Her reason based on why she was inexplicably late for two days would vary wildly depending on who asked her. It was exactly like her stage name VENA, its origins modified to suit whatever her conversational partner wanted to hear.

Vena was her name now, receiving Kuroba Tadashi's speech less like a musician and more like a soldier receiving orders from a general. She will revive music. She will make a name for herself. VENA will win. She attempted to clap before anybody else did, as a quick test. The furor and passion of her new rivals as they clapped in unison with her nearly caused her relaxed facade to slip. Her stay at Cystra city was going to be as challenging as she thought it would be, it seemed.

After Mr. Tadashi's speech ended, Vena walked towards a small coffee machine in the very back of the centre stage, skimming through the crowd like a scientist observing lab rats. There was no malice behind her actions, only insatiable curiosity. As she filled a styrofoam cup half empty, her eyes darted back and forth, holding the beverage as if it were a peace treaty between her and the rest of the room. All the performers around her were so visually and auditorily unique, and yet all of them had managed to snatch the public's heart in some way or another. Were they aware of the archetypes and topes that defined them? How those categories simultaneously showed them off and enslaved them, like clamshell packaging? Vena quietly tossed the coffee in the trash without having taken a single sip and began maneuvering to the booths. She was ravenous for information regarding her new life, but suppressed her desires to interrogate every staff member behind a cool purple mask.

After quelling her biggest questions, the green haired woman began storming out of the auditorium with newfound vigor. She quickly paced from hall to hall, annoyed at her inability to take notes due to fashionable women's clothing and functional pockets existing in opposite sides of the same spectrum. Vena decided on scouting out the heart of the area, the courtyard. In a walk that could be described as two parts relaxed and one part soldier, she made her way to the two silhouettes in front of her. She could dwell on the humor behind a person named vein being at the heart of something later. Right now she wanted to meet others and see what variety the world had to offer.

Vena smiled like somebody who learned it through a diagram and flipped her hair with a stiff, calm hand.

"Having a good night?"

~ Cystra City - The Art of Sound ~

Thanks @RumikoOhara

Edited CS for readability, LOL

~ Cystra City - The Art of Sound ~

removed this for hard to explain reasons

Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages [Gaslamp Fantasy] [Completely Dead]

---

Mark did everything he could to keep his tail from furiously wagging on the train. On the same vehicle as him, breathing the same oxygen as him sat THE Alexander Thomas Breckenridge. In his many years of scarfing down pro-military comics, Mark had obsessively memorized and recognized the particular combination of red eye bags and stormy hair that ran in the boy's family. An impressive feat for someone part canine and part colorblind. Even after years of questionable mental and physical training, it was hard for the military fanboy to stay still. The way his crippling obsession with orderly conduct fought against his crippling obsession for heroes was like a flaming zeppelin being stopped from crashing into a city by another flaming zeppelin. The results turned his mind into a very messy place, to say the least. His inner turmoil was cut short by the end of the ride.

The train briefly whined to a stop, with layers of clunking and grinding mixed throughout its evanescent lifespan. It was one of those noises that forced you to pay attention to your surroundings. One of those noises that signalled the creation of a vivid memory, that implied that for better or for worse, what was about to happen was going to stay with you forever.

Mark was an idiot in many different ways, but inner strength was not one of them. After curtly allowing the vehicle's humans to exit first, the fifth generation chimera stiffly walked right behind them. The way he walked was somewhere between "leader of a marching band" and "regular person", although for this particular day his dutiful traits were brought front and center, an attempt to make a good first impression. Mark paid little attention to the institute's decorations and tried to stand as close as possible to the quartet of officials. Part of him was absolutely enraged at their alterations to their institute uniforms, and another part of him felt like a child seeing four extravagantly dressed superheroes in front of him.

Straightening his body to a comically large degree, the boy flattened his right hand and performed a perfect salute. It was the kind of salute that implied practicing in front of a mirror and yelling at it until satisfied several times a day. Ears perked up, tail frozen in place, and face expectantly tightened, the boy awaited orders.

Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages [Gaslamp Fantasy] [Completely Dead]

Mark

Name: Mark STEEEEL (Yelling his last name like that is mandatory for Mark)

Appearance: A 175cm human bottle rocket, MARK STEEL THE MAN OF STEEL is a fifth generation chimera with a pair of floppy, lightish brown canine ears and a matching tail. Mark will never not sport a soft and long buzz cut the same color of his dog traits.

His body is severely toned, lithe and olive in color. His usual outfit consists of a camo tank top, your basic pale green military hat, and of course, dog tags. He wears baggy army pants and chunky black boots as well. On his neck hangs a small silver whistle.

Age: 17

Species: Fifth generation chimera. Specific heritage unknown, but his animal features are undeniably canine in appearance.

Gender: Male

Occupation: First year

Personality: Mark's obsession with the disciplined and powerful nature of the ideal military man has influenced his entire personality beyond belief. While most children grow out of their "I want to be a soldier" phase once puberty hits, Mark only became more enamored with the concept.

His fervent studies of both ancient and contemporary military customs have inspired him to withhold a bizarre and self-invented soldier's code. He strongly believes in heavy daily exercise, wearing a uniform no matter how inappropriate the occasion, and speaking to everyone in loud, boisterous militarly lingo. Mark believes that military men should all sleep, eat and even bathe together for the sake of increasing morale, and the side that he bats for has been the subject of many heated debates between people who have suffered his presence. His motivational speeches have earned him a small reputation among the younger crowd, who have no doubt been forced to hear his extreme rambles at events.

Openness to Experience: 20
Neuroticism: 25
Agreeableness: 75
Extroversion: 80
Conscientiousness: 90

Strength: 5
Endurance: 6
Constitution: 5
Agility: 7
Dexterity: 3
Intelligence: 3
Wisdom: 4
Charisma: 7

Magic Type Preference: Reality manipulation

Innate Magic Talent: Mark's magic consists of manipulating reality by will, similar to a bard. The medium he chooses to achieve this is through coaching. Performing actions that attract the target's attention and speaking to them tactfully can either enhance their abilities or deflate them, although the former is used the majority of the time due to the nature of being a coach figure.

Mark is unaware of the technical specifics of his powers, and considers his magic to be "Speaking to and unlocking someone's inner soldier."

Interests:
ANCIENT ancient military history, think Rome and Sparta (Greece)
Exercise
Dogs
Strengthening the bonds between his fellow man
Superheroes
Rolling around in mud
Giving motivational speeches
Children's board games and action figures
Eating war rations as regular food
Eating dog food as regular food

Skills: Motivating others, one-handed push ups, losing to children at board games

Biography: Mark grew up in a drab Unoctocan orphanage seemingly in the middle of nowhere. He never knew his parents and seeked out friends at a young age to fill that family-shaped hole in his heart. The name Mark Steel is a fake one, selected by himself to replace his boring, traditional name that was slapped on to him during his early days there.

Mark enjoyed the orphanage's limited supply of comics, although it was the superhero and Unoctocan propaganda comics that caught his eye more than anything. He would read the tattered second hand stories over and over again until his fingertips would turn black from the ink. He frequently read them out loud to his friends, and the children would all reenact the best scenes in the fields outside their shared home.

As he became older and all his friends outgrew their dreams, Mark clung to the idea of becoming a soldier, while keeping a soft spot for the fictional heroes of his past. The pre-teen spent the next couple of years training like a madman and screaming pep talks others around like a sergeant, much to their dismay.

One of the orphanage's many employees was a retired Mordhaben scholar, who devoted his last days to relaxation while occasionally keeping an eye out for talent. Mark's overwhelming and tiring personality seemed horrible for a coach, yet he carried out the role well. A little too well. After questioning the annoying army boy a few times he found himself supernaturally motivated to fulfill his job, confirming his suspicions and landing Mark a place to hone his skills at.