HokumPocus

World-Building Section

As someone who uses a test thread for worldbuilding, I would ideally want the character sharing area to be expanded to include worldbuilding instead of creating a new section, since they aren't that structurally different TBH

Smoking a fat blunt and worldbuilding with HokumPocus

In the ancient ages of the continent of Maln those with the power to warp human emotions were treated as terrestrial angels, and were commonly thought to be the descendants of celestial beings from another plane. The surge in positive emotions called forth by these miraculous beings gave way to an age of enlightenment, one where mankind was technologically advancing at a rapid rate, even outpacing the magic it depended so heavily on. The technology to travel across the sky no matter the distance was a beacon of hope to the once pathetic species of thin skinned apes. With a combination of knowledge over the astral and further advances, travel to even beyond their plane was emerging across the horizon.

Through the passage of time, however, Maln saw an increase in tensions within its kingdoms out of the competitive nature of being the first to take to the stars. The situation worsened as the continent was struck by a sudden and devastating vegetation ruining plague. With no one to blame for the worsening times, fingers were pointed at these jesters of gods. The folk who once entrusted the jesters with their problems now saw them as the origin and inflicted punishment mercilessly.

To be a jester is to be able to create happiness. A jester specializes in specific branches of emotional magic, all of which are useful to humans and their various rampages for power. They are frequently tortured and worked to death with the intention of wringing as much magic from them as possible. A jester is like a sieve of negative emotions, one that needs validation and love from its surroundings to purify itself and continue the cycle. A jester burdened with the ailments of hundreds and seen as a subhuman will absorb the filth of human hearts like a rag of scum and wither away painfully.

These endlessly repeating acts of cruelty have done little to hold back the onslaught of misery that has scarred the land beyond recognition. The plague that has wilted most of Maln’s crops has caused a chain reaction resulting in the massive deaths of animals and mankind. Remaining kingdoms that have been reduced to shadows of their former selves engage in paranoid skirmishes with one another. Disgusting creatures that once took shelter from mankind now roam the lands laying waste to anything within their reach. And on top of it all, the jesters have begun to receive strange signals from entities not of this world. A voice pulsating from their heart, one telling them to “return”.

The continent of Maln as it currently stands is a wasteland of death and decay, one where nothing can thrive. Most of the technology that had been perfected over the course of centuries has now been forgotten and abandoned in its entirety, never to be recovered again. Magic has also declined, with most of its techniques and sects that have been refined over generations having been lost along with a large amount of civilization. Modern magicians are restricted to a sparse amount of offensive spells.

The story will center on a group of jesters who have received a sudden and inexplicable urge to break free from the shackles that bind them, with perhaps even the occasional human that strongly wishes to assist them in their journey.

Smoking a fat blunt and worldbuilding with HokumPocus

Shathouse LIVE: A Drag Queen Production

Carlton, Ohio, a rural and forgotten town in the middle of nowhere in the midwestern United States, a melting pot of fundamentalist christianity, illiteracy and billboards with strippers on them. Delve deep within its filthy entertainment venues and you'll find quite the interesting little drag bar, the town´s most famous. It's also the only one, but don't tell them that.

The Shathouse is a lot of things. It used to be an auto repair workshop, for one. Then it tried being a pancake house until their working conditions birthed an entire new norovirus. But right now? It's a sanctuary for the misfits and weirdos, a stage for the artistically inclined, and a place for alcoholics to get gimmick drinks that taste like ass. It's simultaneously a haven for those of a different inclination and a primary reason why politicians don't want them to be alive. Discussions about The Shathouse, however, must always inevitably mention the glitter encrusted and foul smelling elephant in the room: drag. The drag queens of The Shathouse are a colorful bunch of performers with several dozen criminal charges and Aquanet cans split between them, famed for their talent and poise. To join their ranks isn't easy though, as any possible drag queen must first pass the initiation ritual.

The ritual is a custom created by Travis Ingot, who runs The Shathouse and claims to have received a vision of it while on peyote in Cancun. It's just one of his many unorthodox beliefs that keep his employees on edge on the rare occasions he makes a public appearance.

You're a new performer in town and Travis has vaguely implied that you're worth his time. Be careful, as things aren't as easy as they seem. Carlton's neighbor, a pristine city full of urban yuppies, is fierce competition and leagues above anything it could ever reach. Between the heavy responsibility of elevating this shithole of a town's drag scene, navigating through the volatile world of relationships between drag queens, protesting against whatever new laws propose that setting you on fire be made legal, and putting tape where tape should never be, you have a hard career ahead of you.

Travis Ingot is the owner of the bar and has been for its entire four-decade lifespan, even when it was an auto repair store. He is a man whose motives and origins are shrouded in mystery, a man who refuses to speak more than he deems necessary and frequently disappears for long periods of time. He claims that the vision of a bar strongly came to him in a dream, that he knew the moment he received it it needed to be built and realized. A bar that would change the town entirely whether they wanted it or not, through the power of art, craft store glitter and raunchy pop music.

Intended as a 1x1 for the most part.

Smoking a fat blunt and worldbuilding with HokumPocus

---

Octavio's small step backwards was almost a hop. A quartet of fingers tore the air in front of his nose.

"Projection. Three syllables." His eyes lolled as he confirmed it to be the right number. "They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but it's the weakest form of charm. Everyone has a distorted view of the people around them. Your job is to determine and pine for that, not exact similitude. Amateurs." One of the Lord Ru'Tevs swiped at him a second time, once again only missing by a hair.

At a distance was Lynx, observing the rest of the party recover from Tayla's incident the way humans observed primates. The two were approaching the lift at a relaxed pace, but the sudden conversation from her still caught him off-guard.

"Unwanted surly behavior from Octavio should not be a concern. He favors those of a tasteful persuasion."

The familiar turned his head towards the man, and was met with the sight of him critiquing the chameleons. Lynx regretted having spoken. It was so easy for onlookers to view Octavio as the gracious man entertaining a familiar's delusions, Lynx thought, when it was clearly the opposite. Perhaps one day they would cross paths with another psychotic deity, one that would have them swap bodies. The man was far more suited to the life of a feline. He was practically pawing at the metal bars.

"Weirdo. That would be an accurate term." Not that Lynx didn't understand colloquialisms. The familiar simply once lived in a library, and those were places where phrases such as 'curses!' or 'by the gods!' made their appearance more frequently than the four letter word Tayla nearly... graced the party with. Weirdo seemed more interesting than the others he'd heard of. Newer, and possibly more appropriate. An idea struck him. One that would not have occurred to him under normal circumstances.

"I want to know more of this world's... colorful language."

Smoking a fat blunt and worldbuilding with HokumPocus

---

Unknown Forest

---

Kaito's face didn't show much emotion in response to being discredited, which must have been a surprise to the others. It was a perk developed as a result of working in a career devoted entirely to the solution of conflict. To Kaito, his displays of cowardliness from earlier were a far cry from his typical professional behavior, an outlier caused by being suddenly placed in danger.

"Hallucinations are a symptom of many conditions, and can cause many other effects on their own. This disconnect between the 'self' and our surroundings is typical." He let out a small sigh of frustration. "But what makes this different is that all of us are seeing the same things... which would be..." He struggled to find a way to conclude his hypothesis, letting his eyes flicker down towards his journals before thinking better of it. This was something a color-coded frequent issues notebook couldn't handle. "Hmm, situations where multiple people have shared the same delusion have existed. Much rarer than your typical case, but still within the bounds of reality."

The way he spoke, it was like he was ignoring the purple haired girl. It wasn't intentional, he had just subconsciously lumped her in with the rest of the strange occurrences in the forest. Her name being Ipharia only solidified her place in his mind as an additional obstacle in the way of the truth.

"...My name is Kaito," he said, resting his eyes on her with a sense of unease. It was hard to dissect someone's behavior when they were so legitimately naive.

He listened quietly as she explained her background. Despite having hoped for information that could have helped him make sense of everything, even someone like Kaito who didn't keep up to date with pop culture knew he hit a dead end as soon as the word cleric left her mouth.

"Divinity, spells, oath, goblins..." he muttered to himself, as if he were carefully checking off a list of ailments. "Pilgrimage... monsters." His lips pursed. Another, larger sigh escaped his mouth.

"We might actually be in another world."

welcome to my shitty signature stash

Hider

Card game roleplay where no concrete stats or rules are used in favor of relying heavily on rule of cool and action packed tomfoolery in between slice of life moments.

Uhhhhhh something about music

Anything where angels are depicted accurately according to the bible aka organic robots covered in fire and all sorts of shit.

Anything involving old school runescape and its lore... heavily leaning in favor of it being a comedy adventure where players are real people stuck in the game world, full of tropes from early 2000s memes and the machinima mlg culture from that time period.

Pokemon: New World 2.0

Isaac Bouffalant

Age: 17
Starting Location: Adriana City
Rank: Beginner
Trainer points: 0
Organization: N/A

“M-May I help you?”

Occupation

Isaac works at an auto repair shop alongside his father. The shop is exclusively dedicated to the maintenance of larger vehicles like trucks, trailers and semi-trailers.

Appearance

Isaac has slightly curly black hair, tan skin and bright orange eyes, standing at around 6’1”. His wardrobe consists of fleece jackets and loose fitting pants that cover every dark color with the exception of navy blue, out of a desire to separate his work uniform from his everyday appearance.

While Isaac will typically wear a jumpsuit with his company’s logo patched on to it during work, he will occasionally wear jeans on days that have a more lenient workload. He carries an olive backpack covered in holes, tears and oil stains. Inside is a small tool bag used as an impromptu pokeball holder.

Biography

Isaac’s entire life has revolved around the same trailer repair shop, as he is the only child to a workaholic father and a mother who he was told passed away while he was an infant. As soon as he was old enough to correctly label and use a wrench, he was inevitably made a part of the team. Isaac accepted begrudgingly, aware that his only other options were sitting around and watching, or staying in their cramped house doing nothing.

The shop forbade the use of pokemon, as the machinery they were working with was too delicate to risk being damaged by a stray elemental sphere or what have you. This, along with the sparse amount of pokemon found in the urban parts of Adriana City resulted in Isaac growing up isolated from them. He wasn’t only separated from pokemon, though. He grew up working alongside middle aged men and never really mingled with people his own age, unless another teenager decided to tag along with their parents while Isaac was in charge of the reception desk.

Throughout the years his coworkers would ask him if he was willing to go out and explore the world, and he’d repeatedly reject the idea. Isaac was aware of how chaotic and different the world outside his shop was like. And early on, he had decided that he would have no part in it. His father always supported his son’s decision to stay at the shop, nervous whenever the subject was brought up.

During a particularly stormy night, Isaac was snooping around in his father’s room. While he normally wasn’t allowed to enter under any circumstance, his coworkers had sent him to fetch important materials that his father had left at their home. Isaac’s father had injured himself on the job and had no choice but to hand over the key. It was during this errand that he discovered a drawer in his father’s room stuffed with letters from someone claiming to be his mother. Rummaging through them confirmed that she was in fact his mom, and that she was desperate to know her sons whereabouts. The letter’s dates grew further apart, the most recent one having been written two years ago. Furious with his father’s actions, he resolved to set forth on a journey to find her.

Personality

“Y-You know, it’s easy to get attached to trucks from attending them enough times. Sometimes I think ‘Wow, it’s that one truck with the sticker of a woman wearing a pokeball bikini!’ And then a large man who smells like cheese will step out of it every time. I-I’m not weirding you out, right?”

Calling Isaac a wallflower is an understatement. He is completely and utterly terrified of having conversations with people his age, and the idea of actually meeting a wild pokemon makes him feel butterfree in his stomach. While he would preferably avoid any and all contact with other people, he is aware that talking is the only way to achieve his goals and will often force himself to be social, resulting in plenty of awkward situations for everyone involved.

Isaac is used to following the rules and procedures of his job to a tee and will quickly enter panic mode when things don’t quite go the way they’re supposed to. He will commonly have disagreements with people who aren’t as strict as he is, but will meekly go along with what they have in mind, though not before weakly protesting.

He is incredibly polite and relaxed around most grownups, especially the elderly. Isaac is skittish around children, what with their unpredictability and all. He has little experience with pokemon and tends to perceive them as mythical creatures rather than animals. Any pokemon that isn’t small and commonly owned in the city will either mystify or scare him. Or both.

Likes

Homemade food: Isaac almost always eats prepackaged meals, so the idea of eating something that wasn’t nuked in a microwave is tantalizing.

Manuals: No matter how hopeless things get, if you have the right manual, you’re guaranteed to succeed! Unfortunately, life has no manual.

Noise: Surrounded by both the noise from the repair shop and the city, constant noise that would be overstimulating to many are instead enjoyed by Isaac as nice background filler.

Dislikes

Silence: Interpreted as awkward when around people and eerie when not, Isaac hates silence.

Berries: Raised on a diet of artificial food, Isaac finds the taste of most berries to either be overwhelming or unappetizingly earthy.

Running: Spending your entire life waddling around oil puddles and general muck gives you an almost instinctual hesitation towards running. Isaac settles on awkwardly powerwalking from place to place whenever he’s absolutely certain nothing funky is on the floor.

Pokemon party

NOTHIN’

Backup pokemon

DIDDLY SQUAT

Inventory

BLANKITY BLANK BLANK

Smoking a fat blunt and worldbuilding with HokumPocus

Tears of Satan

Europe is in a state of everlasting tumult. Constant wars between its kingdoms, diseases ravaging the lands, the technology of foreign lands outpacing them by the day. As if that had not been enough, demons have now risen. Satan has gathered enough power to manifest himself in the physical world, and has now unleashed his servants to wreak havoc among humans that can only cling to survival. Until communication was established between his dark kingdom and the others.

The Lambs. Those who have paid the ultimate price for the ultimate power. Men and women who have sacrificed their souls to Satan to fight back against the onslaught from below. Those who have undergone the transformation to become a Lamb have their own reasons for having sacrificed themselves, however, and there are whispers of the true nature of the demons... and the kingdom of Satan that grows ever stronger by the day...

--

Dark Kingdom: The kingdom of Satan that has manifested in the physical world after a surge of power, and continues to grow stronger every day. The closer to the Dark Kingdom, the stronger the demons. There are rumors that every new Lamb makes the kingdom grow stronger.

Lamb: Someone who has sold their soul to Satan in order to receive insurmountable power. This power is a reflection of their desires and psyche, and allows them to successfully slaughter the hordes of demons that now terrorize every man, woman, and child.

-They "transform" into Lambs at will, changing their appearance, and gaining weapons and armor beyond human understanding. These are capable of powerful feats of magic, making their wielders stronger than humans.

Pokemon: New World 2.0

If I'm missing anything don't hesitate to let me know :V

EDIT: Forgot to delete the text saying "WIP" in the beginning, OOPS

Isaac Bouffalant

Age: 17
Starting Location: Adriana City
Rank: Beginner
Trainer points: 0
Organization: N/A

“M-May I help you?”

Occupation

Isaac works at an auto repair shop alongside his father. The shop is exclusively dedicated to the maintenance of larger vehicles like trucks, trailers and semi-trailers.

Appearance

Isaac has slightly curly black hair, tan skin and bright orange eyes, standing at around 6’1”. His wardrobe consists of fleece jackets and loose fitting pants that cover every dark color with the exception of navy blue, out of a desire to separate his work uniform from his everyday appearance.

While Isaac will typically wear a jumpsuit with his company’s logo patched on to it during work, he will occasionally wear jeans on days that have a more lenient workload. He carries an olive backpack covered in holes, tears and oil stains. Inside is a small tool bag used as an impromptu pokeball holder.

Biography

Isaac’s entire life has revolved around the same trailer repair shop, as he is the only child to a workaholic father and a mother who he was told passed away while he was an infant. As soon as he was old enough to correctly label and use a wrench, he was inevitably made a part of the team. Isaac accepted begrudgingly, aware that his only other options were sitting around and watching, or staying in their cramped house doing nothing.

The shop forbade the use of pokemon, as the machinery they were working with was too delicate to risk being damaged by a stray elemental sphere or what have you. This, along with the sparse amount of pokemon found in the urban parts of Adriana City resulted in Isaac growing up isolated from them. He wasn’t only separated from pokemon, though. He grew up working alongside middle aged men and never really mingled with people his own age, unless another teenager decided to tag along with their parents while Isaac was in charge of the reception desk.

Throughout the years his coworkers would ask him if he was willing to go out and explore the world, and he’d repeatedly reject the idea. Isaac was aware of how chaotic and different the world outside his shop was like. And early on, he had decided that he would have no part in it. His father always supported his son’s decision to stay at the shop, nervous whenever the subject was brought up.

During a particularly stormy night, Isaac was snooping around in his father’s room. While he normally wasn’t allowed to enter under any circumstance, his coworkers had sent him to fetch important materials that his father had left at their home. Isaac’s father had injured himself on the job and had no choice but to hand over the key. It was during this errand that he discovered a drawer in his father’s room stuffed with letters from someone claiming to be his mother. Rummaging through them confirmed that she was in fact his mom, and that she was desperate to know her sons whereabouts. The letter’s dates grew further apart, the most recent one having been written two years ago. Furious with his father’s actions, he resolved to set forth on a journey to find her.

Personality

“Y-You know, it’s easy to get attached to trucks from attending them enough times. Sometimes I think ‘Wow, it’s that one truck with the sticker of a woman wearing a pokeball bikini!’ And then a large man who smells like cheese will step out of it every time. I-I’m not weirding you out, right?”

Calling Isaac a wallflower is an understatement. He is completely and utterly terrified of having conversations with people his age, and the idea of actually meeting a wild pokemon makes him feel butterfree in his stomach. While he would preferably avoid any and all contact with other people, he is aware that talking is the only way to achieve his goals and will often force himself to be social, resulting in plenty of awkward situations for everyone involved.

Isaac is used to following the rules and procedures of his job to a tee and will quickly enter panic mode when things don’t quite go the way they’re supposed to. He will commonly have disagreements with people who aren’t as strict as he is, but will meekly go along with what they have in mind, though not before weakly protesting.

He is incredibly polite and relaxed around most grownups, especially the elderly. Isaac is skittish around children, what with their unpredictability and all. He has little experience with pokemon and tends to perceive them as mythical creatures rather than animals. Any pokemon that isn’t small and commonly owned in the city will either mystify or scare him. Or both.

Likes

Homemade food: Isaac almost always eats prepackaged meals, so the idea of eating something that wasn’t nuked in a microwave is tantalizing.

Manuals: No matter how hopeless things get, if you have the right manual, you’re guaranteed to succeed! Unfortunately, life has no manual.

Noise: Surrounded by both the noise from the repair shop and the city, constant noise that would be overstimulating to many are instead enjoyed by Isaac as nice background filler.

Dislikes

Silence: Interpreted as awkward when around people and eerie when not, Isaac hates silence.

Berries: Raised on a diet of artificial food, Isaac finds the taste of most berries to either be overwhelming or unappetizingly earthy.

Running: Spending your entire life waddling around oil puddles and general muck gives you an almost instinctual hesitation towards running. Isaac settles on awkwardly powerwalking from place to place whenever he’s absolutely certain nothing funky is on the floor.

Pokemon party

NOTHIN’

Backup pokemon

DIDDLY SQUAT

Inventory

BLANKITY BLANK BLANK

HokumPocus slapping some characters together while hotboxing

Himari

Background:
One of the yakuza's most prominent and deadly female members of the twenty-first century was assassinated, with her corpse stored as a trophy. It has, god knows how, found its way into the hands of the idol producer and has been selected to become an up and coming idol.

There's a lot to Himari that stands out when you first meet her. I mean yeah, she's a zombie, but she also dresses cutely and formally, like some rich dude's really cute secretary. The cherry on top and the reason why she was banned from several family restaurants in her former life is her passion for guns. And explosions.

Personality : A naive airhead that tends to think outside the box, Himari is capable of simultaneously being the dumbest and brightest person in the room depending on what´s going on. Her solutions are definitely creative, at the cost of implying someone getting shot at some point. Some of her brain cells must have gotten scrambled during the revival, because she often forgets what is and isn't acceptable during the problem solving process.

As she was revived wearing the formal and luxurious suit of a typical yakuza chief, she has developed an interest in larping as a secretary out of denial. She believes that a high ranking member of the yakuza would have to be an absolutely monstrous person and therefore she wasn´t one and was definitely a secretary. As a result, Himari hoards office supplies and uses them in unconventional ways to "keep things sparkling". Don´t question it. She also considers various dangerous weapons as supplies as well. Don´t question that either.

Likes:
Teamwork
Friendship
Foods with extreme flavors
Those youtube videos with like six hours worth of ambient music that are supposed to help you be productive
Dogs

Dislikes:
Being told that bringing a sniple rifle to the inside of a Seven-Eleven is a crime
Anything too complicated or serious
Things that are unorganized

Special talent:
Himari is really good at driving, especially motorcycles. She swears that she must have been one speedy secretary and totally not a yakuza chief.

HokumPocus slapping some characters together while hotboxing

Mola

Mola´s mind is different from most people´s. Whether it´s the way she perceives magic as a rainy drippy feely sensation or her tendency to try to count the bubbles in her soda, her brain has always been wired in a way that the outside world finds incredibly bizarre. Most of her classmates have taken to either avoiding her or ignoring her entirely, as the girl´s unorthodox quips and interests are too much to handle at times.

She has a fascination with emotions, believing them to be superior over logic. No matter how sound or factual a statement or thing is, a person´s emotions can completely distort it without them even realizing it. It´s because of this that she has a bit of an obsession with cataloging and researching them, albeit through loose and artistic methods. Her favorite way of trying to pin feelings and sensations down is through intricate collages formed through a mixture of online photographs and ones she takes, scraps with no clear origins and anything else she can get her hands on. Poetry, lucid dreaming, regular dreaming, conversations with total strangers, they´re all just some of the many other ways she gets her fix.