Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot in the past game, but that was a long time ago. We are both adults, and I think we can agree to put the past behind us for the sake of having a fun game together. I have thought carefully about my behavior, and in retrospect, I was in the wrong for what I did. I will refrain from trying to take over as GM or be overly argumentative.
IncredibleBee Member
- Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 1347 (0.35 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- IncredibleBee 11 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Name: Al Valkanos
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Appearance: Al's taller than average, with decent muscle tone, but his long body makes him look leaner. His hair is a messy, unkempt mop of muddy brown hair, and his facial features are surprisingly soft. Albeit, he's usually got a bruise or bandage marring them.
His dress style is pretty comfy; he mostly wears loose fitting traveler pants and untied boots, with a cotton shirt and dingy longcoat up top, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows for a can-do look. His right hand and lower arm is wrapped in bandages for better wrist support and also so he doesn't lose his grip. On his back he typically keeps one or more large greatswords, of varied make, kept in a sling. He made a necklace out of a a beast's fang, and wears it as a lucky charm.
Personality: Al is by all means a kind, well-meaning person, with an understanding of the importance of friendship. He just happens to have a wild streak, and that streak just happens to be rather good at hitting stuff really hard.
He's not so much caught up in a balance between right and wrong as he is between right and fun. This poor impulse control, combined with a poor danger sense, inevitably means he's often the first to dive into a dangerous area or do something stupid for fun. It's great in a dangerous line of work, though.
Brief Backstory: It's not precise to say Al's forgotten his past due to amnesia. It is, however, accurate to say he's forgotten where it is. However, when growing up, he was always considered a strong boy, even in a rural community where the pastime was wrestling wild animals. Al, however, couldn't be content living a life of mostly farming and whiling away the hours on the porch. He was the sort of child who liked to wander. One day, the year he became a man, he wandered a bit too far, and ever since then has gotten increasingly lost. Determined not to let that get him down, the then fifteen year old began a new life, the life of an adventurer, sellsword, and treasure hunter.
Equipment: Al's weapon of choice is the greatsword, and he's currently carrying six of them. If one breaks or gets tossed, he has a handy backup. These particular ones are made of steel, but he's not picky when it comes to replacements.
Additionally, he hauls a handy array of equipment for traveling
-A backpack
-A large blanket
-A lantern
-Flint and Steel
-A torch
-Salty beef jerky
-A waterskin
-A bottle of liquor
-Rope
-A bear trap
Abilities: Al is strong - much stronger than his frame would even suggest; he can crumple metal with his fists, throw heavy objects, and lift big things. He's durable to boot- It's pretty common for enemies to take a sledgehammer to his face, because anything less probably won't phase him.
Naturally, his self-taught fighting style takes advantage of this, and focuses on Al throwing his momentum around to deliver maximum impact haymakers. Drop kicks are common, as are wild punches, suplexes, and throwing whatever's handy, up to and including the enemy. Additionally, Al carries around several greatswords, since he finds their length and mass are good for slinging around. Also he thinks they're cool.
Perhaps the biggest downside is that his muscle mass isn't proportional to his strength. A fighter with the same strength levels but more muscle mass, for example, has an easier time throwing Al than the other way around, and naturally has an easier time putting more force behind blows.
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Appearance: Al's taller than average, with decent muscle tone, but his long body makes him look leaner. His hair is a messy, unkempt mop of muddy brown hair, and his facial features are surprisingly soft. Albeit, he's usually got a bruise or bandage marring them.
His dress style is pretty comfy; he mostly wears loose fitting traveler pants and untied boots, with a cotton shirt and dingy longcoat up top, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows for a can-do look. His right hand and lower arm is wrapped in bandages for better wrist support and also so he doesn't lose his grip. On his back he typically keeps one or more large greatswords, of varied make, kept in a sling. He made a necklace out of a a beast's fang, and wears it as a lucky charm.
Personality: Al is by all means a kind, well-meaning person, with an understanding of the importance of friendship. He just happens to have a wild streak, and that streak just happens to be rather good at hitting stuff really hard.
He's not so much caught up in a balance between right and wrong as he is between right and fun. This poor impulse control, combined with a poor danger sense, inevitably means he's often the first to dive into a dangerous area or do something stupid for fun. It's great in a dangerous line of work, though.
Brief Backstory: It's not precise to say Al's forgotten his past due to amnesia. It is, however, accurate to say he's forgotten where it is. However, when growing up, he was always considered a strong boy, even in a rural community where the pastime was wrestling wild animals. Al, however, couldn't be content living a life of mostly farming and whiling away the hours on the porch. He was the sort of child who liked to wander. One day, the year he became a man, he wandered a bit too far, and ever since then has gotten increasingly lost. Determined not to let that get him down, the then fifteen year old began a new life, the life of an adventurer, sellsword, and treasure hunter.
Equipment: Al's weapon of choice is the greatsword, and he's currently carrying six of them. If one breaks or gets tossed, he has a handy backup. These particular ones are made of steel, but he's not picky when it comes to replacements.
Additionally, he hauls a handy array of equipment for traveling
-A backpack
-A large blanket
-A lantern
-Flint and Steel
-A torch
-Salty beef jerky
-A waterskin
-A bottle of liquor
-Rope
-A bear trap
Abilities: Al is strong - much stronger than his frame would even suggest; he can crumple metal with his fists, throw heavy objects, and lift big things. He's durable to boot- It's pretty common for enemies to take a sledgehammer to his face, because anything less probably won't phase him.
Naturally, his self-taught fighting style takes advantage of this, and focuses on Al throwing his momentum around to deliver maximum impact haymakers. Drop kicks are common, as are wild punches, suplexes, and throwing whatever's handy, up to and including the enemy. Additionally, Al carries around several greatswords, since he finds their length and mass are good for slinging around. Also he thinks they're cool.
Perhaps the biggest downside is that his muscle mass isn't proportional to his strength. A fighter with the same strength levels but more muscle mass, for example, has an easier time throwing Al than the other way around, and naturally has an easier time putting more force behind blows.
@McFazzer@Shisa@IncredibleBee
@Savo@Crimson Raven@Flamelord@SolisHeretic
Ok, people, I'd like not to do this, but given the low activity I guess this is time for the most dreaded part of any RP. A roll call.
So, who's still in this and who wants to quit? Be sincere, I just want some feedback so that @TheWindel and I can know what we are dealing with and plan things accordingly.
Of course I'm still here; I just posted yesterday.
Isn't Shisa waiting on Windel though?
Vincent chose to remain standing, eyeing the girl up and down. She looked like a real shut-in. And bored, too. She'd have a better attitude if she went outside more, he decided.
It was surprising she could guess what he was here about. If she could sense "spiritual power", she must have been some manner of wizard. Vincent could guess that if monsters exist, they might too, though he wasn't sure to what extent and how common they were. Of course, it was also entirely likely that Ciel called her on the phone and scheduled an appointment. In either case, she probably knew at least a little about the Efreet, at least enough to save Vincent time tracking the thing down.
"My name is Vincent. And you're right. I want to kill it." he said matter-of-factly, nodding his head.
"Well... that's not entirely accurate, I suppose. Some of its lackeys came after me. It had knowledge about me. Personal knowledge I don't share with just anyone, and that pisses me off. I wanna know how it knows this. I wanna know who it works for, if anyone. I wanna know where it lives, how it acts, what it eats and where it sleeps. I wanna know what it cherishes and what puts it in pain. Then I wanna know how to kill it."
@KoL
It was surprising she could guess what he was here about. If she could sense "spiritual power", she must have been some manner of wizard. Vincent could guess that if monsters exist, they might too, though he wasn't sure to what extent and how common they were. Of course, it was also entirely likely that Ciel called her on the phone and scheduled an appointment. In either case, she probably knew at least a little about the Efreet, at least enough to save Vincent time tracking the thing down.
"My name is Vincent. And you're right. I want to kill it." he said matter-of-factly, nodding his head.
"Well... that's not entirely accurate, I suppose. Some of its lackeys came after me. It had knowledge about me. Personal knowledge I don't share with just anyone, and that pisses me off. I wanna know how it knows this. I wanna know who it works for, if anyone. I wanna know where it lives, how it acts, what it eats and where it sleeps. I wanna know what it cherishes and what puts it in pain. Then I wanna know how to kill it."
@KoL
KoL, are you gonna post soon? I'm waiting for you.
"Hm. I guess you'd have to be rich in the first place, to major in philosophy." Vincent said, eyeing the mansion. If his info was good, the person living here would clue him in on the Efreet's history. Normally he'd be content to just shoot and slash it like everything else, but he was still upset it knew about him, and his sister. This knowledge kept Vincent awake all night.
The executioner's mask was hooked onto his belt, since he wasn't exterminating vermin. Moreover, he elected to come unarmed. He'd considered bringing a handgun, but it wasn't necessary for someone he intended to visit as a civilian. Besides, even his bare fists could rend enemies by themselves, and the drop system meant a fresh weapon was never far away.
A light in the window signaled a presence. Vincent approached the front door, and gave a loud knock with his callused fists.
The executioner's mask was hooked onto his belt, since he wasn't exterminating vermin. Moreover, he elected to come unarmed. He'd considered bringing a handgun, but it wasn't necessary for someone he intended to visit as a civilian. Besides, even his bare fists could rend enemies by themselves, and the drop system meant a fresh weapon was never far away.
A light in the window signaled a presence. Vincent approached the front door, and gave a loud knock with his callused fists.
Vincent's teeth grit as the butchery of his native language assaulted his ears. He inhaled very slowly, then exhaled. This girl was some kind of chuunibyou. She couldn't have been very old. Perhaps she was playing pretend. With luck, she thought she was dreaming.
"My name is Vincent." he spoke, electing to continue in Japanese. "Listen... Alice. It's very dangerous here. You could get hurt. Where are your parents? Can you lead me to them?"
"My name is Vincent." he spoke, electing to continue in Japanese. "Listen... Alice. It's very dangerous here. You could get hurt. Where are your parents? Can you lead me to them?"
Okay, let me elaborate on the branding a bit more since it is a hot-button issue. First let me explain the fear of spirits and the rationale behind the brands. In this world, there are many violent and powerful spirits that DO cause destruction. Just like with people, you have friendly spirits, and malevolent spirits. However, with the ability to hide in human form, it is difficult to track them down and retaliate should they decide to hide. With the brand, it makes it impossible for these malevolent spirits to hide who they are. Plus, it puts people's minds at ease knowing that the person you are talking to is being honest about their species.
Now, many of you are comparing The Guild to magical Nazis. Let me make a few distinctions. First, and perhaps more importantly, is the fact that spirits are generally a lot more powerful than a human. This power dynamic means that mortals may want to know if they are walking up to something that could literally be their natural predator. Much of the fear of spirits derives from this very real imbalance of personal power. Second, no special legal restrictions are put on spirits once they accept the brand. The Jews in Nazi Germany had far more restrictions: they had to live in segregated communities, they had special curfews, they couldn't own automobiles, etc. No such restrictions are put on spirits. So, with that explained, I don't really see the scenario as analogous to magical Nazis.
With that said, yes, there are social consequences to the brand. Some mortals are just, believe it or not, racist. However, many others see those spirits who accept the brand as honest and forthcoming and would rather befriend the people with magical powers rather than piss them off. There is also resistance in the spirit community. Many see the brand as demeaning and insulting. As @Narcotic Dollie pointed out, the forehead it prime real estate. Not everybody steps forward, thus the reason for The Guild. It should be noted, that spirits do have representation on the council, so they have political power as well and The Guild really does try to get spirits to comply before hunting them down.
I am well aware that good and evil are not clearly defined, even with all of this considered. I do not consider The Guild to be a bright and happy organization, but rather an organization doing dirty work for the sake of peaceful coexistence. It should also be noted that I love me some moral ambiguity.
So, with all that explained, if you guys still don't like the idea, I'm always open to suggestions.
<Snipped quote by IncredibleBee>
Well, based on the feedback I've been getting, both in the thread and privately, I decided to go with the hybrid fantasy option. This will be a fictional world containing elements from both Eastern (and not just Japanese) and Western fantasy. Even so, I'd still like to hear the ideas you have.
Don't go with a hybrid fantasy. If you have the only Eastern Fantasy genre game, you should roll with it and make it very eastern.
Furthermore I do have plot ideas we can use instead of magical youkai nazis, but they're designed around a specific time and location (Japan, from the 1500s-1880s) so if you're gonna throw in Western stuff at random, what's the point?
Vincent frowned, looking at the spilled pastry, and quickly pieced together what happened. The girl had been buying dessert from a store, and stumbled into an entryway. She'd dropped the pie, and found Vincent during his fight. And now she was frightened. Vincent realized his mask was probably really spooky.
He lowered his hood, and ran his head along the dome of the mask. Vincent tugged it off, and tufts of messy blonde hair fell downwards. His cold blue eyes were glazed over, and stood over a heavy frown that threatened to cut trenches in his face. A thin layer of stubble marked his chin and cheeks. He hoped he didn't look like too much of a delinquent.
"I'm not some monster. Come with me; I'll take you home." he repeated, offering his hand.
He lowered his hood, and ran his head along the dome of the mask. Vincent tugged it off, and tufts of messy blonde hair fell downwards. His cold blue eyes were glazed over, and stood over a heavy frown that threatened to cut trenches in his face. A thin layer of stubble marked his chin and cheeks. He hoped he didn't look like too much of a delinquent.
"I'm not some monster. Come with me; I'll take you home." he repeated, offering his hand.
© 2007-2024