HokumPocus

Tales from the Roadside: S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Role-play

still interested OwO

since this is advanced, I take it our sheets should be a bit beefier than usual? I´ll start working on one

[Enter the Crypt]

do the monster mash

(Welcome to the guild)

S.T.A.L.K.E.R. roleplay

INTERESTED,,,,,,,,

Roleplay about being trapped inside a roleplay: Adventures from the Place Holder

Testicules had opted to stand outside of the tavern and stylishly puke for a bit, resulting in a shocking yet unsurprising sight. Rows of small wooden buildings meshed with one another messily and with no sense of order. Villagers that were few in number strolled through the dusk. Their walking was quiet and quick, a small sign that lingering outside during the night would be a bad idea in this world. The general effect of both the land around him and the hundreds of stars in the sky was one of wonder.

Amidst the rapidly approaching curtain of night a certain lone individual could be seen wandering about, as if in a trance. Glimpses of their silhouette could be faintly made out at the appearance of a torch wielding guard doing his usual rounds. It was hard to tell exactly who this person was. Gradually though, they approached Testicules. A brief period of sniffing followed.

"You. You are one of them. The smell of spices not of this world lingers on you."

She was some sort of humanoid, with her delicate face being swallowed up on both sides by a messy mop of brown hair and a garment that looked more like a trenchcoat than anything resembling medieval outerwear. Her monotone and serious voice gave off a feeling of restraint. The uppermost button of her clothing wrapped snugly along her chin and did funny things to her enunciation skills. "Follow me, intruder. The protection of you and your companions is vital."

The general state of affairs from within the tavern was approaching a point where it could only be described using exotic curse words and comic book onamotopoeia noises for every time someone had their spinal cord rearranged. In the old world, the most intense fuel that could keep a fight going was either functional alcoholism or poor life decisions, both which tended to limit the possible outcomes substantially. This world had chair mimics and bartenders who required a valid killing liscence to receive employment, so fights were understandably a more colorful affair. The strange woman slammed the doors open to make a statement and then exhaled a sigh of resignation at having failed to garner any attention whatsoever. Her hands darted to the enormous handles to do it again but then stopped at having developed a better idea.

She calmly and neatly detached her head, revealing herself to be a dullahan, which in this world wasn't too much of a surprise. A quiet incantation escaped her lips, one that Testicules could've sworn sounded like her saying "Kobe". In one swift movement, she flung her head like a basketball player and had it crash land onto the pile of snacks.

"Hello, I am Miska, head mage of the council of stability." muttered her head, causing a mild snap to the table's aged wood with the force of its impact.

She licked dorito fragments that had sprayed on her lips and continued to speak as if nothing had happened.

"This is a dire warning to all of you not from this world. Your aura and scent is detectable and you are all in grave danger. The council of stability, located seven buildings to the left, will offer answers to your no doubt endless multitude of questions. Not eight buildings to your left, as that is a domesticated house mimic. Not six buildings to the left, as that is a family bar and grill." Her dainty head scanned around to make sure she was being listened to.

"Additionally, I will ask that one of you reattach my head to my body, which is currently flailing around the entrance unless your skeletal companion has decided to stabilize it. I wish to return to the council, and require assistance."

Discipline: Hide in the Fairytale

Open to changes and whatnot, teehee

Federica

Federica Aritza

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_Name

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Federica Aritza

_Age

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15

_{Class Year}

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4ᵀᴴ

_Nationality

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Tolosan

_Appearance

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Federica stands at an average five feet and three inches, with a skintone a smidge less light than the average girl that stays the same, no matter how many strange ointments her mother slathers her with or how many tutoring sessions she has out on her home's sunny courtyard.

She is frequently accused by her parents and relatives of being unladylike, which causes her to well with conflicted feelings and irritation. Part of her wholeheartedly disagrees on the basis of her effort invested in maintaining appearances. Federica wears dresses that are feminine and extravagant, as well as accessories and a head of soft chestnut hair that could be described in the same fashion. She is a girl who is clearly conscious of her appearance and enjoys looking the part of royalty.

_Background

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Tolosa is a struggling nation. Once a prospering and rapidly expanding monarchy, the last century of its existence has consisted of revolts, failed wars and lost land. All is not lost however, and its core has managed to hold against the various sources of instability that have presented themselves. And in this still standing nation, a monarchy has risen to the top of its war scarred lands in an effort to restore Tolosa to its former glory.

Federica is an easily frustrated girl. Who wouldn´t be, in her position. With a power hungry father and a mother determined to raise the most competent successor imaginable, it would be accurate to say that her entire life has been decided for her in advance and without her permission, much to her annoyance.

While it is true that she is successful in appearing prim and proper, Federica would unwillingly have to agree with her relatives in having a roughness to her natural personality. Having to act the part of Tolosan royalty is an irritating and heavy task for her. She is simply too impatient and restless for the world of academia and all of its stuffy tutors and tomes. To her, life is at its best when spent around animals or painting. She'll pay attention to the more logical pursuits that her parents hound her with out of respect for them but will ultimately discard them out of their complexity. One cannot become a master of something without struggling at it first, but to her struggling is forbidden and shameful. An exception to her usual interests is history and its fascinating qualities.

Federica's manners and speech are polite and well rounded. They are a natural result of begrudgingly wanting to appease both her parents and her nation and are only a moderately accurate representation of her true feelings. They tend to soften greatly when around those she trusts, so oftentimes no one knows the more jovial side of her.

Her parents have decided to have her attend the academy in the hopes of refining Federica's knowledge over the more intellectual pursuits of life. As a symbol of hope for a powerful and healthy Tolosa, it is vital for Federica to succeed in the role she's been burdened with.

_{Affinities & Talents}

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Painting
Horseback riding
Singing
Art and art history
General history, primarily history over Tolosa

_{Additional Information}

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Unbeknownst to her, her mother is infertile and she is the result of needing to soothe the hearts of Tolosa’s citizens with the promise of a strong and everlasting royal family, as the health of a monarchy is the health of its people. Absolutely no one outside of a select few are or will ever be aware of this and neither will it come to light. The purpose of her existence is to calm the public while her parents continue their attempts to produce an heir.

The Five Senses

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"Aaahh!!!"

"Aaahh!!!"

"Aaahh!!!"

There were several works of literature that were considered to be masterpieces among humankind, being unafraid to bare the very essence of the complex and fragile soul beneath every man. Octavio, talented in theater and theatrics, well versed in many of the past century´s most renown plays and legends, was quite proficient in employing language to suit the occasion. It is then perhaps confusing as to why all three of him decided that screaming was the best course of action. Or was the confusion a part of his strategy?

Having a magician specialized in deterrents probe your mind was certainly an interesting experience. Especially for someone so accustomed to always making the first move or taking the boldest actions when dealing with others. Is this how women felt like when his pickup lines failed? No no, he told himself, I can take a hint, plus I´m hot. And so it was that he was extremely uncomfortable and irritated at the current situation, and why he had decided to opt for the... louder approach in the middle of so many speeches and curses being flung from both sides.

All three of him sprinted and hopped around the surrounding mess to ruthlessly pounce on the magician that had been tasked with targeting him. She had to probe around his sight magic, which involved determining the ¨gaps¨ in sight rather than what was seen, no doubt an action requiring of some heavy concentration. All three of him curved in their trajectories, with center Octavio and left Octavio even swapping roles halfway to their intended target. An actor must know how to conceal various props, and while his weapons were exposed for the world to see he still managed to flourish them with a lighting fast grace. The three sets of daggers and short swords that had always been present glimmered threateningly for a brief moment.

He wasn´t primarily invested in combat, but when there were three of you and you were Octavio it made for an opponent that quickly made you want to pull your hair out. As the world´s fencing and chess champions often say, the hardest opponent is a beginner. Two opponents will always wish to create the best possible moves in any strategic game, but when one is incapable of this it rapidly creates an environment of chaos and confusion where anything can happen regardless of skill level. Taking that logic, what would happen if a moderate level player were to intentionally devote themselves to messing the game as much as possible, even perfecting buffoonery into a tangible skill?

It was at that moment that three Octavios all flung their daggers at the man with the accuracy of someone who´s spent a decent portion of their life betting gold on knife tossing games and winning.

"Bullseye!" shouted the first Octavio, his dagger having penetrated the magician´s body deep enough turn him into a human wine bottle.

"I´d like to see that granny do the same!" answered the second, no doubt offended by Syella´s just as cocky antics and prideful of his aim.

"Chres!"

The third one shouted much louder than the other two, his smile overtaken by severe concern. He ran towards his ally in a mad dash that was oblivious to his surroundings. The other two continued to circle around their new pincushion with unchanged expressions. Their swords swiped from safe distances, amassing a collection of gashes and scrapes and injuries of all levels around the magician´s body. They were doing what they do best in combat, fighting like cowards. Their chaotic movements were emphasized by the feigning of silliness and nonchalance to further taunt and bewilder their foe. It was safe to say that it created the illusion of underestimating the fight. Being an illusionist was an art, one that surpassed just knowing magic.

The Five Senses

gonna start working on a post!

Dawne | A Japanese School Life RP

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Da Streets, Kurosuoba
April 3rd, 2018 | 6:40 AM

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Tsubasa skipped ahead of her cousin without a care in the world. As far as she was concerned, this day was off to a perfect start.

It was rare for her to show any enthusiasm for school aside from the occasional club activity or festival. Her head buzzed with thoughts over the types of people she would meet and eventually befriend within the school´s walls. It looked like a boring building and had nothing in common with the silver behemoths of academies found in manga, but she was expecting that. Didn´t all sugary media for teenagers have the same message about creating miracles out of hard work? This was an apt place to start her antics, definitely.

"Ka. Zu. To. Kun~" she groaned, starting off sweetly and then dropping into a deeper and more familiar voice that stretched his honorific in a very impatient way. The pair didn't have much of a gap between them yet Tsubasa insisted on walking side by side as part of the construction of a perfect first day. She had gone as far as memorizing the school's location better than last week's newest hits, and that was saying something. Being a tryhard could occasionally result in doing things reserved for the more intellectual students, it seemed.

A part of her secretly expected for some sort of unlikely or strange event to happen on her way to school, just like in a manga. Even a stray cat in a box would be enough. It was optimistic and childish thinking that kept the boring reality of academia locked away for now.

HokumPocus´ crackhead gallery

SHANGRI-1A

In the near future, technological advancements have made the acquisition of energy into an increasingly more important task. The greater the technology, the greater the resources required to power it, naturally. Fortunately a new advancement in the generation of energy has arrived with the potential of changing the world, a generator that can convert human emotions into a solid and usable resource. The Kiseki Foundation in charge of this new technology has discovered a particular little detail about their device, however. The most efficient way to extract a large amounts of emotion energy is to gather an enormous crowd of emotionally charged people. And the best way to do that? Music.

Professor Mukou, the founder of the Kiseki Foundation, has frequently been accused of insanity and general severe mental instability. After all, why would one of the most intelligent men in human history devote so much of his research to making music an essential part of society? There have been no shortage of detractors clad in business suits persuading him to dedicate his intellect for something more efficient or reasonable, yet all of their attempts have been met with failure. Music was his life, and he was dead set on making it everybody else's as well. His inventions started off as nothing more than simple tech demos and hypothetical developments to the relief of those maintaining the status quo, continuing for decades and ramping up in ambition and scale until finally peaking at the creation of the on-cert. No longer a machine that took more energy than it created to sustain itself, his emotional generators were paired up with concerts specifically designed with the ability to harvest the energy from their participants. He needed help in maximizing their symbiotic relationship, however.

Musicians from all over the world have now been quietly invited to stay and work for the Kiseki Foundation with an all expenses paid stay in the luxurious and semi-artificial city of SHANGRI-1A. They have been handpicked regardless of their genres and popularity in the business, and are expected to entertain the city´s large audience of ravenous audiophiles. Critics have accused Professor Mukou´s plans as nothing more than an unbalanced relationship of give and take, but he is earnest in his goals and genuinely wishes to cultivate a future for humanity where music is inseparable from their lives, just as it is in his. They'll be given several privileges for working with his foundation, including access to his infamous on-ocular technology.

On-oculars are a gimmick that have changed the game in the music industry. Through advanced virtual reality technology, an on-cert goer with an on-ocular equipped can experience a whole new layer of musical immersion. Initially only capable of modifying the background of the concert, newer models have included the possibility of rendering weather, temperature, smells, textures and more. Some musicians might prefer to keep their changes to a tasteful minimum while others might go all out on transporting their listeners to another world. You can also opt out of it entirely, and many additionally prefer it that way.

The generation of environments is a skill that not many have, though it can be learned through enough practice or simply commissioned through the foundation´s various programmers. Its actual existence remains exclusive to the foundation, as the energy required to power it is simply too massive for it to be viable in traditional performances. On-certs justify their outrageous costs by intensifying the emotional responses that energy is siphoned off. A sad song being played in a rainy field is going to garner a stronger response than in an ordinary stage, resulting in a larger spike of energy, for example. It is important to note that in no part of the energy generation process are any of the human participants negatively affected, as it concerns itself solely on the "traces" left behind from emotions and not they themselves.

It goes without saying that a city built by a madman with the intention of being a living music playlist is going to have its eccentricities. SHANGRI-1A takes inspiration from the flashy and brilliant mecca of western entertainment that is Las Vegas and combines it with the fast paced and futuristic aspects of Tokyo. This explosive center of human culture has more in common with Tokyo than its western inspiration though, and was even built on the same country. Two large hotels have been built to accomodate the Kiseki Foundation's new wave of worker musicians and around them is quite the hotspot. High end restaurants, enormous shopping centers, facilities made to meet every need for an artist are housed here, including quite a large population that is eager to see what you're capable of.

As for another quirk that makes SHANGRI-1A special, look no further than the architecture that most of the city's buildings possess. Flat and open areas have been prioritized in the construction of the city with the hidden purpose of being able to host on-certs with minimal concerns over safety and overcrowding. Even the inconspicuous rooftops of the smaller yet just as flashy buildings are able to successfully contain hundreds of screaming fans. An important facet of being a musician here is being proficient at scouting the best places to host your shows in, as you´ll soon find out.

rough draft for rules and character creation

Appearance:
Name:
Performer name:
Gender:
Age:
Nationality:
Category: (traditional solo artist, part of a band, idol, etc.)
Musical style: How would you describe the music that they create? You can sum it up in a few words, be thorough or even toss in examples if you´d like.
Level of experience:
Talents:
Biography:
Personality:

Roleplay about being trapped inside a roleplay: Adventures from the Place Holder

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The medieval tavern that our transformed adventurers found themselves in was a congregation of chatter and cheer the likes of which their old world had never seen. Dozens upon dozens of fantastical creatures mingled with each other, most humanoid in shape and some defying description. Their conversations were like barrels of oil and water being emptied into the same melting pot over and over again, clashing and twisting and turning in a mess of color and noise. Just what had they gotten themselves into?

The second floor of the spacious tavern was much smaller due to the presence of an indoor balcony. There, quieter and more controlled conversations could be seen and not heard. You could only speculate on what sorts of tense agreements and discussions were happening above. Well, you could probably guess one of them, considering a man´s had just crashed into the floor above them.

However, two voices could be heard among the hundred around. A pair of men in ridiculous clothing stood directly apart from each other in a display of confrontation. They looked like someone had stared at paintings of corny fantasy wizards for hours and then had tried to paint them from memory while on acid. The fatter one, the color and shape of a bloated toad, was the first to raise his volume even further.

"How many times must I say that MY essence magic is the greatest in all the land!" he proclaimed, chest puffed out in pride. The previous fat toad analogy only strengthened at this. His rival, a wiry tower of a man wearing two separate monocles, let out a sneer. His robe trailed on the ground and looked like repurposed neon roadkill. In fact, that was probably what it was.

"Hah! YOUR essence magic!? Never in a hundred years could it ever be as grand as mine! Face it, the mages of Insertacountrynameheria are nothing but a SHAM to the magic arts!" The man crossed his lanky limbs in a manner that could be described as "folding chair-esque" and pierced into his opponent´s beady eyes. The people that were in their proximity quickly scurried to the sidelines to either get away from their mess or have a better viewpoint. Vampires, elves, catgirls, ghosts, circus clowns, warriors and many more made way for their approaching scuffle. The minor god of shouting Worldstar when a fight is about to happen butted in.

"Worldstar!" he shouted.

Our brave heroes were in a tucked in corner of the tavern and could only make out the traces of tension in the air. That and, another minor god had taken interest in them and possibly even their snacks. A rational person would have pointed out that the shock from having switched bodies was far more important than either of these two problems, but rationality in this world didn´t exist, unless one was referring to the obscure branch of magic consisting of repeatedly scratching oneself.