HokumPocus

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

MARK

@liferusher

Under normal circumstances Mark would have passionately interrupted the improvised PDA session in front of him in the name of proper student conduct. A notebook with a mysterious message stole his attention, however. His eyes looked towards the owner and her confused face. COULD IT BE, SHE KNOWS THAT MY THROAT IS DEFEATED RIGHT NOW!? Of course, that would explain why she opted to greet him by writing. The ruckus around him was especially loud for the chimera and his canine ears were giving off the occasional sting of pain, but the question that sat in front of him demanded all of his focus.

What are you doing.

No question mark or follow up or anything of the sort, just a neutral quartet of words that caught him staring at them and decided to stare back harder. Mark gulped nervously, wincing after his sore throat reminded him why that was a bad idea. He began to furiously write.

Mark's handwriting was neat and orderly, with every exclusively capital letter being created with such immense pressure on the paper that it was more accurate to say that he was carving the words instead of writing them. A stick figure soldier absentmindedly appeared as he brainstormed the second portion of the response. In the end, he wanted to know who this girl was and how she knew his throat was unusable. Incredibly powerful magic perhaps? He carefully returned the notebook with the face of someone furiously in thought.

Terra

OHOHOHOHOHO!!!! OHOHOHO!!!! SCREEEEE

CROW BEASTFOLK

PROFILE

Lady Uervia is an avian beastfolk with jet black feathers and eyes that give her a slightly intimidating and elegant appearance. She is around six feet in height, taller than most human men. Her body is adorned with intricate robes that lay somewhere between kitsch and extravagant. She has two sets of high maintenance talons and speaks with a very formal, arrogant and royal tone.

When in the wild she instead wears simple dresses that convey the idea of regal femininity without restricting arm movement or using delicate fabrics.

BIOGRAPHY

Lady Uervia is a haughty and extroverted woman who sees herself as a lady of high social status. She enjoys playing games of chance and telling riddles. She is fascinated by shiny objects, particularly precious stones and jewelry that most find gaudy and repulsive. As a twenty-two year old crow beastfolk, Uervia is considered a middle aged woman, the avian equivalent to a human in their forties.

She enjoys listening to music and will coo along to the melody. Uervia tends to wave her talons around in an exaggerated fashion to emphasize her words in a manner that she considers elegant. Her laugh is especially exaggerated, sounding like a mix between a cawing bird and a sadistic queen's guffaw.

She hates boredom more than anything else in the world and constantly seeks entertainment. Her hatred of boredom is so strong that she has hoarder tendencies and a strong dislike for one-hundred percent certainty. Uervia will go as far as tipping the scales against her if it means having more fun, even in combat.

Uervia is a scholar who has had extensive archery training, albeit with no true combat experience against anything other than targets or animals. Her bow, named Quill, is a compound bow that has been slightly modified to suit a wielder with talons. It is incredibly heavy and firing arrows from it is a slow and tough process, although her avian eyes guarantee extreme precision.

---

Uervia was born to a wealthy pair of merchants in one of Terra's more civilized areas. Avian beastfolk have a tendency to raise their children in a way that most other races consider heartless, taking no time in shoving them out into the world and leaving them behind. She was no exception, and her parents sent her off to fend for herself as soon as she was capable of speaking. Uervia's life was more pampered than most however, having been sent off to a special school for beastfolk rather than being dumped in the wilderness or what have you.

The school she attended focused on etiquette and combat with a very pro-beastfolk viewpoint. Any and all questions relating to the history of the world were shrugged off with simple one sentence explanations, usually boiling down to beastfolk appearing before any other race and being special, unique, etcetera.

Predictably, Uervia grew unsatisfied in being a caged bird and sought to explore the world in order to both find out the truth on its origins and hone her archery skills, as she was tired of firing wooden targets and longed for the real deal. Many years have passed since her graduation. She has since used her talents in etiquette and combat to work as a fur trader, hunting game or occasionally buying low and selling high from others like herself. As time goes by she has grown more restless for adventure.

RELATIONSHIPS

Rival: Wileod, a human mercenary who almost killed Uervia. She challenged him to a bet, tricked him and won, although he ran away before she could claim his life.

Family: Her parents, Krolas and Miraglen Tiniebla. Many avian beastfolk don't pass on their last names to their children until they have proven themselves. Uervia is no longer a young adult, hasn't seen them since infancy and wishes to receive their approval.

HokumPocus slapping some characters together while hotboxing

"Man, I can see why you've been really getting into this, Logan."

"Stop calling me Logan!"

"Adelmo von Freudenberger, offensive spellcaster of the guild Regnum Hohenstaufen, known more for its members' extensively coordinated 'minimalist medieval' outfits and roleplaying excursions rather than leaderboard domination. Shares Alex's passion and frankness, albeit in a more bullheaded and mature direction."

Physical Description

Logan Barnett had always been on the wrong side of average, much to his dismay. He was tall, he supposed, though in the way people labeled as underfed or lanky. His features were masculine enough, though his nose stretched a tad too far for his liking and his resting face had the tendency to set off women's fight or flight responses. Life as a software developer had done the man absolutely no favors as well. It was detrimental, in fact, as years of unpaid overtime had dished out quite the beating to both his posture and eyes.

In Pariah, he can finally taste the other side of the fence. His thin and wiry features underwent a number of subtle modifications to give him the appearance of a stoic yet handsome man. He has cropped blond hair in a conservative style identical to the one in his adolescence before premature balding had reared its head, and no glasses to speak of. His body, though still thin, has risen to a weight that no longer concerns others, with the faintest definition of muscle as well. The dedicated gamer and roleplayer had initially joined to rise to the top with his friends while partaking in fantasy adventures, but he has to admit, even just taking it easy with his younger brother feels good with the level of immersion Pariah offers.

Character Conceptualization

Adelmo von Freudenberger, archmage of the secret Abenddämmerungdrache sect, esteemed confidant to the Knights of the Midnight Order, survivor and champion of the 12th Cataclysm of Sundered Wings. To the rest of Pariah's playerbase, these were nothing more than empty words pertaining to someone a step below them in their little self-imposed caste system of who was better than who. Within his tight-knit group of friends however, he was Adelmo, the powerful magician who could accompany them on one exciting adventure after another, whether in a LARP held in the beautiful canadian wilderness or something over a screen. Pariah was the next big step for them, a chance to not only expand their numbers but meet people from across the world.

In time their guild bloomed into one that could handle PvE alongside their roleplaying. They now have nearly double their original members, a mixture of Logan's real life friends and extras picked up along the way. Their trust in one another and synchronization from up to decades of friendship make them a surprisingly powerful force in raids and questing, often being able to perform complex team movements with little to no communication beforehand. They took in Logan's younger brother, Alex, to show him the ropes, but his total disinterest in the guild's day to day roleplaying has created friction between him and the rest of them. That Logan's real life friends had spent years thinking his younger brother was a girl, well, that only made things worse.

Guild name: Regnum Hohenstaufen

Tohru's School of Wizards and Witches!

---

Just what kind of speech was that? Thought Cerrad angrily. The last part seemed to have been tacked on with sinister intentions. He didn’t pay much attention to the tone of her voice and instead felt threatened, as if he was being told that running away was the worst possible outcome and that it would end in devastating tragedy and that it would all be his fault for not accepting and—

Cerrad took a deep breath. The thought of attending a school where his powers were seen as vital and special was overpowering everything else in his mind at the moment. And besides, he coldly added, I’m surrounded by all sorts of competition; the least I can do is see what the rest of the world has to offer in magic. The rivals in question were currently asking their own questions and attempting to socialize, with the former vaguely listened to and the latter ignored completely. The raven haired adult asked something with so many magical terms in it that he sounded competent, which Cerrad interpreted as dangerous.

He raised a bony wrist to stroke his own hair, thumb and index knuckle gently sliding down whatever tendril was nearest to his shoulder. The soft yellow hair had more maintenance invested in it than most people’s entire bodies, a fact that Cerrad smugly kept to himself. The earth magician squinted and spoke to the woman. “Hmph. The way you’re phrasing it makes it sound like you’re threatening us.” His eyes relaxed and his hair stroking motions came to an abrupt halt. “But I’ll join anyways.”

Cerrad’s hand began to tug at his hair in a subconscious expression of uncertainty. He saw himself as vastly different from all the others, just like in Tembrot, and wasn’t sure whether to continue to see that as a strength. Maybe they’d trample him and he’d have to adapt to the ways of the current world to rise to their level. He imagined himself wearing a pair of blue jeans and twitched.

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

MARK

Mark was slumped on a cafeteria stool, panting so hard that he almost seemed like a dog. The exercises that his new friends showed him were no walk in the park, and every one of his muscles felt incinerated. He spent a few moments simmering in his sweaty puppy puddle before slowly lifting his head up. With a quick lick of his cracked lips he hung his mouth open before speaking.

"Work that body...........

.......huah..............."

His head immediately smacked against the table with a loud thud. He continued to wallow in the weariness.

"That place... is legitimately haunted."

The dog chimera unstuck his sweaty head from the sweaty table and swiveled it to stare in horror at the student's words. "GHOST....REAL?" Was all he could sputter out with his fried vocal cords, an orchestra of wheezing noises and lip flapping. It sounded like an old man attempting to imitate a kettle and having a stroke halfway through. Mark was aware that the sheep chimera was occasionally observing him and felt ashamed at not being able to coach him in his current state, like he had promised him in his elaborate mental fantasies.

He stood up and mechanically hobbled over to the cluster of students. After all, someone had to unite and protect them. He opened his mouth, paused for a second, and returned to the exact same spot with a glass of water. Whatever words were going to crawl out of his mouth were then erased by the actions of a stupidly attractive moth student, who derailed the girl's conversation harder than a flaming zeppelin crashing into the previous flaming zeppelin analogies. Mark let out a wheeze of relief after hearing what the moth chimera had to say as it cleared things up. The two students obviously had a cool and secret wrestling location and the girl wanted to tell people so she could grow stronger without the moth boy knowing. He firmly shut his eyes and placed an L-shaped hand on his chin. WHAT A SNEAKY SPARRING TACTIC! MY FELLOW STUDENTS ARE INGENIOUS!

Mark sat retreated to the edge of the crowd now that his worries were gone and sat next to his good and kind friend Bawen. Bawen looked dead, even more so than usual. If Mark was clever he'd crack a joke about counting sheep, but he wasn't. The other chimera was currently imitating a corpse and was seemingly unaware of Mark's presence right beside him. The tired dog quietly sipped his water and tried to follow the conversation without succumbing to the same fate as his caring and fuzzy friend.

Terra

OHOHOHOHOHO!!!! OHOHOHO!!!! SCREEEEE

CROW BEASTFOLK

PROFILE

Lady Uervia is an avian beastfolk with jet black feathers and eyes that give her a slightly intimidating and elegant appearance. She is around six feet in height, taller than most human men. Her body is adorned with intricate robes that lay somewhere between kitsch and extravagant. She has two sets of high maintenance talons and speaks with a very formal, arrogant and royal tone.

When in the wild she instead wears simple dresses that convey the idea of regal femininity without restricting arm movement or using delicate fabrics.

BIOGRAPHY

Lady Uervia is a haughty and extroverted woman who sees herself as a lady of high social status. She enjoys playing games of chance and telling riddles. She is fascinated by shiny objects, particularly precious stones and jewelry that most find gaudy and repulsive. As a twenty-two year old crow beastfolk, Uervia is considered a middle aged woman, the avian equivalent to a human in their forties.

She enjoys listening to music and will coo along to the melody. Uervia tends to wave her talons around in an exaggerated fashion to emphasize her words in a manner that she considers elegant. Her laugh is especially exaggerated, sounding like a mix between a cawing bird and a sadistic queen's guffaw.

She hates boredom more than anything else in the world and constantly seeks entertainment. Her hatred of boredom is so strong that she has hoarder tendencies and a strong dislike for one-hundred percent certainty. Uervia will go as far as tipping the scales against her if it means having more fun, even in combat.

Uervia is a scholar who has had extensive archery training, albeit with no true combat experience against anything other than targets or animals. Her bow, named Quill, is a compound bow that has been slightly modified to suit a wielder with talons. It is incredibly heavy and firing arrows from it is a slow and tough process, although her avian eyes guarantee extreme precision.

---

Uervia was born to a wealthy pair of merchants in one of Terra's more civilized areas. Avian beastfolk have a tendency to raise their children in a way that most other races consider heartless, taking no time in shoving them out into the world and leaving them behind. She was no exception, and her parents sent her off to fend for herself as soon as she was capable of speaking. Uervia's life was more pampered than most however, having been sent off to a special school for beastfolk rather than being dumped in the wilderness or what have you.

The school she attended focused on etiquette and combat with a very pro-beastfolk viewpoint. Any and all questions relating to the history of the world were shrugged off with simple one sentence explanations, usually boiling down to beastfolk appearing before any other race and being special, unique, etcetera.

Predictably, Uervia grew unsatisfied in being a caged bird and sought to explore the world in order to both find out the truth on its origins and hone her archery skills, as she was tired of firing wooden targets and longed for the real deal. Many years have passed since her graduation. She has since used her talents in etiquette and combat to work as a fur trader, hunting game or occasionally buying low and selling high from others like herself. As time goes by she has grown more restless for adventure.

RELATIONSHIPS

Rival: Wileod, a human mercenary who almost killed Uervia. She challenged him to a bet, tricked him and won, although he ran away before she could claim his life.

Family: Her parents, Krolas and Miraglen Tiniebla. Many avian beastfolk don't pass on their last names to their children until they have proven themselves. Uervia is no longer a young adult, hasn't seen them since infancy and wishes to receive their approval.

Elysium: Unto Dawn [Sola & HokumPocus]

WIP, missing some stuff teehee

TS-361

TS-361

Character song/song that vaguely fits the entire rp in general: Miracle is Dead - SweetRevengeK

"Look at the test tube baby. I was born of it. Woe is me...!"
-Lyrics

A mercenary who is willing to do anything and everything as long as it means getting more paste and staying alive. He has no sense of loyalty and prioritizes self-preservation above all else. If the Federation were to offer him a more bountiful job, he’d accept it without hesitation.

---

PERSONALITY

TS-361 dislikes the noises and quirks that belong to organic bodies. He has experience in combat yet finds the sight of organs repulsive. He is disgusted at nudity, believing it to be the most humiliating act a living being can perform. Not nudity in the traditional sense, but nudity the way he interprets it. He sees skin as a casing for the body, similar to a machine, and any exposed areas like wounds or severe injuries are perceived as nude and pathetic. TS-361 thinks of the sight of “true” nudity as something akin to a broken machine that can never be put back together again.

Whenever TS-361 gets nervous he resorts to biting the hairs off his arms, a result of being disgusted with hair as a concept. He is disgusted by his own body, but isn’t ashamed of it as he is disgusted with the idea of organic bodies in general. This unorthodox interpretation of flesh has led to the development of a rude, quiet, greedy and overall strange homunculus.

Likes

Physical Books: TS-361 isn't very smart, but collecting books satisfies his greed. He enjoys reading the blurbs and skimming through a few of the pages. All of his books are in terrible condition.

Tight Spaces: Being grown from a tube has made him subconsciously find comfort in tight and cramped spaces. He is an incredibly messy person and feels right at home in the large piles of garbage he tends to generate.

Exercise: Physical strength is vital for his job, and it helps with relaxation.

Dislikes

Hangnails: A frustrating feature of the human body.

Meat-based human food: Seen as primal and brutish. Bits of fat in meat are particularly disgusting to him.

Mouth Noises: Eating noises, burping, sneezing, coughing, yawning, etc.

APPEARANCE

STILL WIP TS-361's hair is constantly messy. He cuts it out of frustration in uneven chunks from time to time. His leg hair is uneven and patchy due to shaving it off with knives, both out of wanting to test their sharpness and sporadically being uncomfortable with it.

He wears bland civilian clothing, but has no problems with wearing armor for extended periods of time.

Tohru's School of Wizards and Witches!

---

The man’s wink and smile combination turn Cerrad’s teeth into grindstones. While an authentic magical letter would have made most people happy, any traces of joy on his mind immediately rotted like a sweet fruit as soon as the man concluded his one word speech. The man paid no attention to Cerrad as he hatefully stared at him. No explanation as to where I am or why any of that magic just happened or why there’re others around me! Unbelievable!

Cerrad glared around him and confirmed that he was nowhere near Tembrot. None of the men around him were built like brick walls and instead matched Cerrad’s thin frame. It was a momentary relief, before doubt and envy set in. He was clad in a traditional robe while most of his rivals sported contemporary clothing, which made Cerrad resume grinding his teeth in irritation. Tch, they probably see me as an old man just because I’m dressed in robes but it makes sense in the context of performing traditional magic so if anyone has a problem with that I’ll just say that it’s…..

….and that other male also has long hair and even though his is black it’s still something I have to be wary of and that other one has pink hair and bunny ears, which is frankly ridiculous but manages to be a unique charm point which in turn gives him the advantage when it comes to situations where…

The others began to grow restless for answers as well, prompting Cerrad to snap out of his mental rant. His insecurities that stemmed from the unknown molded the earth magician into a defensive stance. He quietly took his luggage and stiffly walked closer to the gateway. Few others seemed to have packed any, increasing his unease.

Tohru's School of Wizards and Witches!

Cerrad Toh

Cerrad began another day of work.

He attended the customers, organized rolls of fabric, jotted down orders, patched up torn clothes, lost a needle, took inventory, found a needle, updated the catalogue for the current season, attended more customers, prepared orders for supplies, got mistaken for a woman, lost the same needle again, hesitantly said a few goodbyes, closed up shop, and sighed, before his eyes darted to a corner of the store. He found the same needle again.

The members of Tembrot village ate an enormous meal once a day with as many of their kin as possible, and today Cerrad shared his daily feast with his mentor, like he had every other day for the past several years. They ate from a large wooden bowl of assorted nuts and dried fruits, before moving on to salted corn and bread. Meat was the centerpiece of every Tembrot meal, but the two barely made enough money; they’d have to skip it again.

Cerrad gingerly sipped from a bowl of tea and spoke in an annoyed tone as he had done many times before. “The Tatteks stopped by this morning, their child tore his uniform playing with the bulls again. I even reminded him to be more careful the last time we met, can you believe that? I just think that they should stop being so lenient with that sort of behavior. In a few years I bet he'll star—“

His mentor grumbled and raised his head all the way up, a sign that he was going to begin his pre-sleep nap. Sir Abiert was an old man who spoke an average of ten words a week, and the two rarely had conversations beyond Cerrad listing off the orders that needed to be finished for the day. Cerrad swallowed his words, relaxed, and stood up with their bowls now that dinner was unceremoniously over. “May I go outside to practice?” He said, in a gentler tone than usual, “I’ve recently reduced the number of coils that need to be created in order for a successful summon of my familiar, which will undoubtedly hel—“

“Go ahead.” The old man grumbled.

---

Cerrad had finished his explanation for the letter in his hand after a long and painstakingly detailed account of what had happened when he stepped foot outside, with bits on his childhood and the importance of magic peppered in for good measure. He ended it by glaring for the first time in his life at his mentor, hoping that he would reject the letter and point out how stupid it was.

“Go ahead.” The old man grumbled. Again.

---

The young earth mage sat on the floor with a pair of scissors in his shaking hands. Part of him was excited at finally being a talented magician, yet another part of him refused to believe that angel-women falling from the sky distributing magic pamphlets was a suitable form of recruitment. His plan was to snip the corner of the letter, pretend that nothing happened, and continue with his life, even if the letter addressed to his family and the packed bags around him told a different story. He cut a sliver of paper and shut his eyes as hard as he could.

Tohru's School of Wizards and Witches!

Cerrad Toh

Name: Cerrad Toh

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Magic: Earth-based summoning

The earth magic hailing from Tembrot village is a branch of traditional magic that bases its rituals off of positive aspects related to the earth. Austerity, endurance, hard work and a strong connection to your community are seen as the most ideal characteristics one can have as a magician.

A magic ritual from another branch might require rare ingredients or something similarly extravagant; Earth rituals are different in that they involve a similar amount of effort but are focused on the willpower of the individual above all else. Possible rituals include running around a rock several hundred times, digging a giant hole and filling it up, carving ridiculously large spirals in the earth, etcetera. Even with willpower as the main focus, kinship is almost as important. Male earth magicians are often required to build ornamental mud houses to channel a paternal energy for barrier magic, while their female counterparts might be tasked with sculpting humanoid and animalian figures to channel maternal summoning magic.

Cerrad’s femininity severely hampers his ability to achieve the power of a true Tembrot wizard. He is currently able to summon a warthog piglet and an adult warthog. Summoning the adult warthog is a difficult and time consuming process, and he is currently in a tumultuous relationship with both creatures.

Biography

Cerrad grew up in a small town of earth magicians where hard work and endurance were revered. Despite relentless training by his father, Cerrad was unsuccessful in casting magic and grew increasingly bitter and frustrated, eventually deciding to live away from his parents as an act of defeat. Most of his family was patient with his incompetence and frequently reminded him that he was welcome to return, but the overly self-critical Cerrad refused and opted to live a mundane life to avoid further disappointment.

Or so it seemed, until he accidentally summoned a warthog piglet after a particularly hard day of work. It took only a small amount of time to recover from the taboo act of performing women’s magic, as he realized that this meant he wasn’t completely hopeless. For the next couple of years he trained in secrecy, with the poor results expected from someone with no magical mentor and a suffocated schedule.

Personality

Since summoning is the feminine half of Tembrot magic, Cerrad views his limited abilities as shameful and will give false and vague answers on his magic and upbringing. He is an incredibly vain perfectionist who despises being dirty in any way, and puts a large amount of effort on his appearance.

He dislikes children and animals because of their helplessness and he considers anybody who isn’t self-sufficient to be below him and unworthy of being assisted. All of his mannerisms and personality traits are a direct contrast to the ideal Tembrot magician, a fact he is acutely aware of, although mentioning it would infuriate him to no end. Cerrad has a short temper and is normally annoyed or angry, which can be easily seen by the way he grits his teeth when going through either emotion. His voice will also shift from being soft and gentle to sounding like a bitter old man while ticked off, with his traditional tastes in clothing enhancing the effect.

Extra

• Hands are always cold
• Refuses to name his familiars
• Earth staves should be plain unlike his, but he hates their appearance
• Has a pouch filled with dried fruit, a common ingredient in earth summoning rituals
• Hates tea but drinks it regularly