Klaudus

Terra Incognita ( Fantasy Colonial RP )

Story

It is the age of innovation in the land of Maltha, and the dawn of a new century. The 4th Shield War has ended, and many of Maltha's nations are still recovering from the conflict. One such nation is the Trade Republic of Bresiroth, who had tried to remain neutral during the many wars of the last century, but suffered nonetheless due to the aggressiveness of its neighbours. Bresiroth's new Stadtholder and Head-of-State, Sir Miles de Geld, has expressed a passionate interest in colonising the recently discovered western megacontinent known as Kasum. The first colony of Bayheath was successfully established last year, but four months ago, the colony had failed to write home about its status and needs. Another month passed, and in response, a fleet of explorers was sent to investigate the silence. What they found shocked the people of Bresiroth: the colony had been attacked, its buildings burnt, its citizens slaughtered, and its fields salted. Rather than giving up on the new continent, Sir Miles has sent another fleet of colonists, but this time, with an army of mercenaries to fend off whatever foe might dare contest his will. For one reason or another, you're part of this new colonial venture, signed on as one of the valiant fighters here to protect the men and women of New Bayheath. Unknown to you and your comrades is the ancient power that lies at the heart of this land. Be prepared, for in the shadows of this unexplored world lurk ancient forces prepared to stamp out whatever invaders dare encroach on these ancient territories.

Information

This roleplay takes place in a low-fantasy world where magic is rare and monsters are the stuff of legend, not sure yet if I want to include other fantasy races like orcs, elves, dwarves, etc. The players would be tasked with performing various tasks with and for the NPCs to grow New Bayheath, while additionally fighting off waves of attackers from the dense jungle. I would be controlling all of the enemy characters and colonists, while the players would act independently. Player death is possible, and encouraged if you're in an inescapable situation. That's all for now, leave a reply if you think you'd be interested in this sort of roleplay, or have any questions.

Tales of Eyreseum - The False King

Name: Old Smokey Toke Johnson Age: 68 Gender: Male Race: Human Weapons: None Equipment: Simple wooden harmonica, acoustic guitar, and a linen farmer's outfit. Inventory: Several pounds of a tobacco like herb in addition to a small book of thin paper used for making cigarettes. Appearance: Old Smokey Toke Johnson is a withered old man with a dark skin that's been wrinkled and calloused by many years of hard labour. His hair has retreated to the backs and sides of his head, and is grey like smoke. His back is hunched slightly, making his gait a little less free than younger humans, however despite his age, he's still fairly nimble with his hands and arms, and is consequently able to play his guitar just as well as he was 50 years ago. His eyes are dark and often squinted from age, and in general, he has a pretty unremarkable appearance. Background: For his entire life Old Smokey Toke Johnson has lived in the fields, having never desired to move anywhere else, always content with his current surroundings. In his small agricultural commune of farmers, he'd spend the days toiling in the fields to pay his taxes, while at night he'd gather with family and friends to sing songs that remarked upon the lives of those he knew. Old Smokey Toke Johnson never married nor had kids, having never desired such things, and was known by his friends and family for being a generally lonely person who'd simply sit and strum his guitar while smoking in his free time. Such was the status quo throughout adulthood and into his elder years, until the succession crisis not too long ago. Disliking the sudden change in situation, Old Smokey Toke Brown decided that the only due course was to adjust correctly with the changing times. And so, in his final years, Old Smokey Toke Brown has left his farm and house behind to become a bard in the nearby city, hoping that through song he might return the shattered state to its old form. Personality: Old Smokey Toke Brown is typically passive man who has a habit of getting what he wants due to a demeanour of friendly stubbornness. His voice is gravely, but oddly reassuring, which compliments Old Smokey Toke Brown's tendency to offer advice to the young of the world, even if said advice isn't wanted. Job: Former farmer, currently busks in the street for coins. Skills: Old Smokey Toke Brown can play a mean guitar, and is quite good at rolling cigarettes. He also knows how to plough a field, feed animals, grow certain plants, etc. Traits: Old Smokey Toke Brown is old as the days are long, and possess little physical power, yet he's quite witty as if to make up for his weakness. Magic: None, he doesn't trust spells after he saw a kid accidently light himself on fire with a magic scroll. Talent: Guitar, that is all. Strengths: I think I pretty much covered this above, he's good at playing guitar and that's about all. Weaknesses: He's old, frail, and slowly dying, but hey, ain't we all? Theme: Johnson's favourite jingle.

Oakenheim (Modern Supernatural RP)

<Snipped quote by Spawnling> agreed. <Snipped quote by Klaudus> #shotdown poor pale Raven, her skin is too sensitive--she'll burn if she tans. XD

@Leviathan

You know what they say, pain is beauty. Or is it the other way 'round?

Oakenheim (Modern Supernatural RP)

Cory's eyes changed their focus from one speaker to the next. Each time a new student piped up, his face sunk further into his hand for support. 'This was a mistake' he thought to himself, sighing and sitting back up straight again, this time carefully resting his hands on behind him, focusing on not deleting any more of the table. Thankfully, both hands rested on the varnished wood without issue, letting Cory relax a little bit in his posture. Once more Cory is lost in the conversation, not paying particular attention to the words of his comrades, but rather their appearances. Maintaining a look of barely masked confusion and regret, Cory's gaze lulls from one person to the next. 'Jesus, this ain't my crowd..' he thought again, continuing to judge the classroom's population as those kids who sat in the back of the class, ate lunch in the hallway, and generally didn't get out much. However with a quick clearing of the throat, Cory forces his mind from such thoughts, 'Maybe they're nice people, what do I know, they could be uh.. I mean, she's alright looking' he thought to himself once more, his eyes focusing briefly on Raven for a moment before deciding to himself that her paleness was a bit much for his tastes. In the end, Cory decides to pay attention once more, catching Maxwell's final judgement. Following the boy's gaze, he redirects his attention to Kanoa, ready to hear her plan of action.

Titans Together!

Seems very Jojos Bizarre Adventure, which is pretty awesome really. XD I like the look of him at least.

@Rin

JoJo is love, JoJo is life. But yeah, it's very much based on Stands and JJBA.

Titans Together!

I can't remember much about the show, but I'm willing to re-brief myself if you think it's necessary. Name: Masa Hayashida Alias: Black #2 (pronounced: Black Number Two) Age: 19 Personality: Masa is a temperamental young man with a short fuse who has little patience for authority. Though this is just his outer shell, those who win Masa over will find that he can be a very loyal and endearing friend. Powers: Masa's powers channel through a guardian figure that follows him wherever he goes. This ghost appears at Masa's command, though Masa does not need to speak to summon it, and can be dismissed just as easily. This guardian has been dubbed "Locomotive Breath" by Masa, who stole the name an artist he likes. Locomotive Breath wields enormous strength and superhuman speed, making Masa a challenging foe in one on one combat, particularly against normal human beings. On top of his daunting skill in combat, Masa's guardian possesses the ability to amplify the damage of his punches with small explosions similar to those inside an engine. Weakness: Masa isn't very smart, and can be baited into attacking at an inopportune time very easily. On top of this, he has no ranged potential, meaning that anyone faster than him can quickly escape in the time it takes Masa to get on his motorcycle. Appearance: Masa and Locomotive Breath Bio: Masa has always been a violent child, constantly picking fights with other kids, neighbours, strangers, grandparents, you name it, there was no challenge too daunting for the young hooligan. However as the old saying goes, crime doesn't pay, and Masa was transferred to one of Japan's largest juvenile detention centres. Here Masa became immersed in a culture that finally accepted him. While the guar- err, teachers would often bully Masa for his dumb haircut, he found community among his classmates who shared his ideals and style. Though living in a small restricted area with thousands of hooligans and delinquents does have its dangers, and it wasn't long before he pissed off the wrong crowd. During one lunch break, Masa was tripped by a couple of kids belonging to the Black-Tiger-Leopard-Dragon-Fire Club, a relatively small gang who were dangerous all the same. Responding with a flare of anger, Masa charged the entire table of hooligans, pinning one to the floor before being pulled of and ganged up upon. Masa's tenuous relationship with the staff gave them little reason to help, and so the entire cafeteria turned a blind eye to his beating, every last one of them left the poor boy to his fate. Though as a final blow was about to be struck against his head, all went white. When Masa's vision returned, the crowd had dispersed, the floor was charred, and one kid was on fire. The staff finally rushed to break up the ruckus, but left Masa to ponder on what had happened. According to some, Masa's final punch had "exploded", a rumour he needed to investigate himself. That night, in his small dorm, Masa saddled up to his punching bag and threw a quick hook. Another flash of light, but when his vision returned this time, before him stood a metallic humanoid who floated just inches above the floor. The being mimicked Masa's movements, and seemed entirely in his control. In a test of his new "magical" skill, he commanded the being to unload a quick string of punches against the wall of his dorm. Sure enough, explosions ensued, and after half a minute the wall ceased to exist, Masa was free. That was two years ago. Today Masa roams the US on a motorcycle, destined to use his power to prove his badassness to anyone he meets. Arc Ideas: Masa learns the power of love. Other: "Titans Forever", don't know why I forgot that initially.

The Blue Moon Tavern

Looking forward to this setting, any word on an ETA for the opening post?

Oakenheim (Modern Supernatural RP)

Cory had apathetically cringed to the side as smoke was blown into his face, 'Perhaps this was a mistake' he thought to himself, gauging this group as part of the school's "weird crowd". Despite the bizarre introduction, he decided against turning back now, given how long the cold walk home would be. Waving away the cloud of stinging fumes, Cory moved to the fourth row of desks, taking a seat on one, crossing one leg over the other in a nonchalant pose, eyes fixated on Kanoa who had begun a small speech of sorts. The preppy looking girl went on about that kid who'd blinked from existence a little while back, a disturbing event that had shaken most of the student body when it was first reported. As Kanoa droned on, adopting a leading tone as she began to rally the population of the classroom, Cory's mind pondered on the disappearance of the kid she'd mentioned. Disappearing without a trace was something out of a bad episode of CSI, but in lieu of Cory's new power, it seemed less impossible. 'Perhaps he had something similar to me..' Cory thought to himself, tapping his finger on the desk once. As his fingertip drummed against the wood, a hole suddenly appeared, about 3 inches across. Cory's eyes widened as he quickly removed his hand from the table, cursing himself quietly for being so absent minded.

The Blue Moon Tavern

Name: Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)

Oakenheim (Modern Supernatural RP)

By the time Cory had returned to school the halls were nearly barren, with only the janitorial crew, faculty staff, and a couple of stray students still lingering in the hallways. "12.. C" mumbled Cory to himself, looking at his scrap piece of notepaper as he wandered into a wing of school he hadn't been in since his first year, looking up again, he counted the doors to himself as he walked, a childish habit but a helpful one nonetheless. "3, 5, 7...8, 10.. Wait.." he'd stutter, turning on a heel and finding himself looking at the side of the corridor. After quick correction, he approaches the class, affirming it as the place to meet by listening to the sound of chatter within. Tentatively he hangs in the doorway, poking his head and torso into the class before moving into the wooden frame fully, "Uh, hi" he'd say curtly, raising a hand in a similarly short wave of address. "This is 12C, eh? The um, uh.. Meeting place, or something" he begins, quickly losing his train of thought. In an attempt to salvage his attempt at speech, he draws a crumpled letter from his back pocket, holding it up for all to see. He looks like he's going to continue his previous runaway sentence, but instead decides against it and waits for a response.