I have come up with the ultimate pansexual name! Drum roll please! Roryana. You can thank me later.
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6 yrs ago
TFW you realize your SW character somehow turned into an anime character. I didn't even use an anime avatar. Damn you Japan! Freaking brainwashed me.
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6 yrs ago
Look away, look away. My profile will ruin your evening, your whole life, and your day. Every single pixel is nothing but dismay, so look away, look away, Look Away!
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6 yrs ago
Ghost mode disabled.
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6 yrs ago
As of the end of March, I'll be a fully trained 5e dungeonmaster. Gird your loins, termagants and knaves!
Ceria, for one, did not relax when she entered the inn, for what she soon read in Elvish and Common as "The Homely Kobold." The inn was anything but homely. Beneath the kobold on the door, the name of the establishment as mentioned prior was scrawled into the wood. Her eyes caught on a line of elvish further down that had been vehemently scratched out. It had been awhile since Ceria had been back in her homeland, but the flowing script seemingly only mirrored the name of the establishment as written above. A shudder ran through the elf's body as she realized at least some in this place were anti-elf.
Anti-elf movements were not new to the world as a whole, but they were fairly new to Ceria who had previously preferred to keep to herself out in the wilderness for a long period of time. On the rare occasions she had ventured into town to trade for supplies, she had not experienced any such racism or hate nor seen such outward displays like this. This all the more reinforced her desire to leave the city as soon as possible. Thankfully the kirjan had at least brought them closer to the edge.
As Ceria was considering turning right back around and going outside to sleep in a tree for the night, her shudder caused her to sway on her feet and to bump toward Daisy's shoulder as she waved at Yvah. Crap, I'm more tired than I thought. The last thing I need is any more of this physical contact business. Her left arm already hurt like hell and any brief brush with something the likes of even the tiefling was bound to set the covered wound screeching in pain again.
Name: Siven "Sivvy" Jeyer Title: The noisiest guy in the room
Height: 5'11" Weight: 184 lbs Age: 26 Race/Species: Human
Tier/Influence:1 (Low) Sivvy is able to annoy the living hell out of anyone and everything. It may not happen immediately, but it will happen. The funny part is his luck is extraordinary or he would most certainly be a grease spot on some floor by now with the amount of enemies he has. He is an undiscovered musical prodigy who marches to the beat of his own instrument(s) (so to speak) as well as a part-time slidehander, full-time druggie, and pilot. In fact, he's been known to do three out of those four things at once - minus the thievery, but with him you never can be sure.
Appearance:
His outfits can vary significantly depending on his fugue state's mood (fugue state explained in History). He loves to wear anything bright neon green and yellow. He currently wears a mishmash of indigo metal greaves, a polyester sleeveless shirt, and a semi-fancy metal belt with a lot of clips for tools he does not own. His belt does have exactly one large pocket.
Personality: Siv is a very carefree individual. He likes to live fast and dream faster. Unfortunately, his social skills haven't seem to have gotten the memo quite yet. He doesn't just think, but believes that he is all that and a bag of chips when it comes to charisma and improvisation.
Is Sivvy really? Not a chance in hell! To the average Joe, he comes across as being loud, ignorant, and blissfully unaware of the effect he's having on the people around him. Whether he means to or not, Sivvy will be disrespectful and will offend people. It is only a matter of time.
Tick tick tick.....oh that's right! Sivvy also has plenty of nervous ticks from being more wound up than a plastic animal toy. His left eyebrow waggles CONSTANTLY much to the annoyance of women who have the misfortune of being the target of Sivvy's overly gallant and corny advances. He also has an extremely common propensity for tapping his fingers to beats only he can hear as well as sometimes whistling those tunes aloud. To make matters worse, if there's no one else in the immediate vicinity to talk to, he will talk to himself aloud a LOT. He could feasibly be described by some as "bat poo insane".
Abilities, Talents, Traits, Powers:
( 1 ) Aloofness -- Whether it be in his fugue state or before, one trait that Sivvy has consistently exhibited has been his aloofness. He has always been clueless as to what people truly think of him and his actions. In his current state, he lives by the very mistaken assumption that he is ALWAYS the righteous good guy when he has no qualms with palming things like food and small odds-and-ends for his own immediate needs.
( 2 ) Thievery -- Whether he likes it or not, he makes for a semi-talented pickpocket and thief. If it's laying out in the open or sticking out of somebody's pocket, he has enough of a goofball, idiot streak that people think he's too insane and loud to ever possibly be a thief. Peoples' preconceived notions of thieves being silent and skillful are put to rest by this boisterous wannabe bard.
( 3 ) Musical Talent -- Say what you want about Sivvy's other underperforming areas, but if he has one redeeming quality it is that he is a natural prodigy when it comes to musical string instruments. If the instrument is in an orchestra, he cannot resist snatching it up (or even plucking it out of someone else's hands) and producing the sweetest of sounds. An odd talent for him is that even when he is high on Vindix, he plays even more smoothly. Perhaps this is due to the drug's illusory time slowing nature that could be making him focus more on the string chords he weaves together seemingly at random, following tunes that spring out of his own head.
Items:
( 2 ) Megaphone -- Sivvy's megaphone is almost ever-present alongside him or in his hand (usually his right hand). It is made of a sturdy enough metal to be used as a bludgeoning weapon in a pinch. Siv usually tries to shout or convince or coerce people away before a situation comes to blows though. Even then, he might very well run rather than fight.
( 2 ) Vindix tablets (3) - He is grossly addicted to a universally popular and illegal stimulant known as Vindix. The primary symptom of its high are characterized by giving the user the illusion that time has slowed to a crawl. A couple of the reasons why it is so universally popular is because it has quite a low overdose rate in the early stages of use and, once addicted, the user doesn't start feeling any adverse effects when they come down until a full thirty-six to forty-eight hours later when the craving for another fix starts creeping up on them.
( 1 ) Brightly colored clothes and sneakers - As explained above in Appearance, he loves to wear any he can get his hot little hands on.
( 1 ) Cheap plastic night vision goggles that he appropriated from one of the dead pirates' bunks. They have a tiny switch on the side that toggles the night vision.
((I was going to write more items here, but I got distracted and can't remember them right now. -,-))
History: Sivvy was born a bastard. His mother, Elicia, was a dark-skinned woman from a human colony who had been raped by a passing black market peddler, Honzi, who went on about his illegitimate business and never returned. In fact, nor was he reported given that Elicia could not read let alone write. Due to living in poverty, Elicia grew very sickly ill while pregnant with little Sivvy. When she finally gave birth, her last act was to give the child up for adoption. The Galactic Association of Youth-Parent Finding-a-Place organization at the low rate hospital she gave birth and died at found this newling baby boy a home with a middle-aged man named Sawl and his elderly grandfather, Jun - both men being lighter skinned.
As you can no doubt ascertain from this point forward, Sivvy did not have what society would call a normal upbringing. Unlike his birth mother, he learned to read and write from public education on a planet on the outer edge of the main human territory. Despite showing a willingness to learn, the amount of information that Siv actually retained was quite low. The first eleven years of his life were by all accounts fairly uneventful save for him learning that he is severely allergic to bees and a shaggy, woolly, tusked livestock creature known as a gohop.
At sixteen, his "grandfather" figure died at the ripe old age of 110. But not before passing on the single greatest bit of advice that would forever stick with the bubbly budding young bloke: "Don't be afraid to always speak up, my boy." With those words, he passed away immediately after; thus leaving Sivvy to stare death square in the face for the first time. Some part of Sivvy's brain formed a small break that day. A break that would widen greatly as he aged and came to know more of the world's atrocities.
His innocence truly faded and his mind truly went by the wayside on his twentieth birthday when he witnessed a violent stabbing one evening outside his living quarters of the time. Siv ran away silently, uncharacteristically noiseless, and stole a rusty, abandoned, small fast ship from the nearby colony spaceport to flee the planet with. He flew and flew until the ship ran out of fuel, leaving him stranded between systems in the black of space.
There Sivvy sat numbly replaying the scene over and over in his head for a day or slightly more with neither food nor water. As his extreme luck would have it, just as he was on the brink of starvation and in the middle of a dehydration-induced delirium, a freighter fleeing pirates entered the darkspace area where he was fleeing pirates. Amid their active sensor sweeps to see if they were still being pursued, they hauled in poor Sivvy and nursed him back to health as they made the rest of their trip unmolested to their destination. For five years, Sivvy had been convinced to join the hauler's crew as part of a moderate labor force. He was paid fairly, though he did not care what he did or what he got in return. On the eve of what would have been five years since that fateful day, the very same pirates who had harassed that freighter before bore down on the poor working-class ship once more and utterly destroyed it and several other ships as part of a trade convoy. Sivvy was ejected into space without a pod and had to float suspended in vacuum in nothing but his flightsuit and helmet for two hours before the pirates found and decided to bring him aboard.
Once medical treatment had been administered, they - the pirates - found that Sivvy had suffered some serious brain damage and had gone just a bit loopy. Fortunately, the main side effect of his stay in vacuum - an extremely raspy voice - was temporary, though the pirates did not know that so they produced a megaphone (yes, the very same one he would keep for the rest of his days) for him to use. Once his brain had barely recovered enough for him to remember why he was here and what this bunch had done to his former crew, Sivvy snapped even further and murdered all seven of the pirate crew in their sleep, though two he had to murder in the cockpit unawares since they were awake and flying the vessel. Once he had thoroughly bashed in all seven skulls of varying species with aforementioned megaphone, Sivvy's frail brain had had enough and went into a complete fugue state. Thus, the happy-go-lucky wannabe cantina bard that is today's Sivvy was truly born and he uses the pirates' old Arachnid-class blastboat as transportation from cantina to cantina. Nobody bothers him in space once they see the "heat" his ship is packing. That is, of course, unless the opposing ships are bigger and meaner and/or in greater numbers. While in his current fugue state, Sivvy is borderline pacifistic.
As for his drug addiction, he found his first stash of Vindix aboard the pirates' ship that he forcefully hijacked. In his year of travels up to the present day, he has since depleted all of his Vindix supply save for three lone tablets. The tablets tend to be purchasable from black market dealers in small bottles of ten to fifteen tablets per tiny container for moderately high prices. Despite being in his happy-go-lucky fugue state, Sivvy has become increasingly desperate for money in recent weeks. A choice is fast approaching for him: sell his ship or find work. Becoming gainfully employed can be most difficult for a drug addict, not to mention someone with a personality as unintentionally grating as poor Sivvy's. Will he find like-minded, nonjudgmental individuals willing to cut him a share of their profits or will he dig himself a pit so deep that he cannot possibly crawl out and recover? Only time will tell!
Sidenote: When accepted, he'll currently be in a tavern or cantina somewhere.
Ceria was taken aback by the other woman's sudden assertiveness. "Whoa, what's with the royal we? We've known each other for all of ten minutes. If you want to tag along with us in the future, we'll have to see what the group says." She rearranged her expression from mild reproach back to a small smile. "But for what it's worth, Ah--rares, with the selflessness and courage you displayed today, you'd have my vote!" With that said, the elf turned away as she took a couple of steps in Arthera's direction to help clean up their mess.
Ceria smiled at the newcomer. "Oh if you need to be saved from bandits, call us anytime! Your healing comes in pretty handy! Speaking of which....." the elf's features turned serious as she shaded her sensitive eyes from the midday sun's rays and scanned the surrounding area. Some of the merchants seemed bolder than others and had either not fled their stalls and pavilions to begin with or were just now returning to them.
Ceria carefully scrutinized all of the pavilions to the best of her ability, not just the ones that were attended, but the empty ones too. Damn it was sure bright out! "Gee I wonder if there are any health potions over there for sale or the taking," she muttered to herself only audible to Araerys. Did I really just say that last part? she mentally chided herself. I'm turning into a common criminal. I should get out of this city as fast as possible.
Her survey finished, the elf concluded silently that there were no magical sources of health in the vicinity. Now that the adrenaline rush of mortal peril had ended, Ceria was very keenly aware of the gnawing pain in her left arm. Turning once more to her new acquaintance, she asked tentatively, "I don't suppose you could take a look at my arm, Miss Talbot? I don't want you to have to play doctor or anythi...I mean," she shook her head vehemently and counted softly to reorder the words that came out entirely wrong. "One, two, three...I mean you don't have to if you don't want to," making eye contact once again at the end of her ramble.
Macelyn Grace is a runaway turned pickpocket turned card player extraordinaire. Unfortunately, extraordinary this sixteen-year-old is anything but. This little vagrant scamp has weasled her way from city to city, village to village, seeking a living on trying her best to swindle people out of money in popular regional card games. At first glance, Macelyn may seem a bit one-dimensiomal, but add to the fact that she has been in ol' gaol slidehand - essentially picking pockets with some occasional bully ruffing - and that she has the terrible bad luck to keep running into all of the people she has either cheated or beaten and her chosen life becomes far from drab.
Author's Note: I currently have some beef with a side of mashed potatoes where interest check threads are concerned right now. That being said, just apply to join this thread and I'll either pick the person I feel is best suited or - if I get more than one applicant I really like - random.org might play a pivotal role in my decision-making process.
Also, I wholeheartedly agree that my charrie needs to be fleshed out story-wise and am open to suggestions. This was one of those light bulb ideas as I realized I've never actually RPed a gambler of any kind before. I need a brainstorm on how to keep the two main PCs linked. Am wondering if they end up town hopping because of a fiendish army, an NPC army, some sort of natural disaster or predatory invasion, et cetera. Either that or they are both located in one sprawling metropolis with many different taverns. PM me your ideas.
OOC section should be for applications ONLY please!!! If you have any application related questions, please feel free to PM me them as well along with any plot dev ideas you may have. :)
Medieval setting/genre (at least technology-wise). Makes it easier for card players to use sleight-of-hand(s) ^.-
Someone willing to play likely another gambler with a WIP story similar to Macie's
Someone who either wants to RP (text only preferred) a version of an existing card game (I nominate gwent, but other suggestions are welcome) OR someone who wants to create a card game from nothing but his/her/it or our imagination(s).
Someone willing and able to post just about 1-2 times per week. 'Tis listed as casual more for that reason than anything else.
Moreover, someone who prefers to write about three paragraphs average per post. My eyes frankly start getting bored after about double that (regardless of whether or not the subject matter interests me).
Explain the appeal of people telling someone that they suck at something and then not proceeding to tell them how to fix it. Such a prominent theme on the 'Net these days. It's like all the internet gamers who like to teach have just fled to RPGuild or disappeared entirely. O,o
Ceria took in all that happened, the newcomer woman's seemingly apologetic tale invoking the most vivid reaction from her. Sheathin her weathered how upon her back, she heard their paladin call out for wounded to come to him. That would have to wait just a bit despite the throbbing wound in her left arm.
Ceria bounded over to her seemingly elvish counterpart, stopping near the woman's right elbow. "Oh it's fine, dear. You tried to help those poor girls any way you could. I wouldn't have done it any differently. I'm Ceria. What did you say your name was?"
She briefly glanced back over her shoulder to listen to what the guards had to say post-battle before once again facing this brave, new mystery.
Banned
