Oxenfree

𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖻

Why not? I'll throw my hat in for braniac.

Looking for a male character for fantasy romance: The Paladin Multiverse (sample writing inside)

Interested!

A Tale of Blood and Fog

Roselyn coughed, turning away from Elias's maiming of the dead creature's body. "Good tip," she said through a wrinkled face, "Really great." Some of the other members of the party announced an intention to go explore the manner - though heavens knew why they picked the destinations they did. If there was anything good, it would be in the living quarters, probably upstairs. Normally she wouldn't condone theft, of course, but there was no way the occupants of this house still needed their valuables, and scavenging was a valuable skill - a piece of jewelery or some old coins could go a long way towards keeping her supplied in this miserable backwater.

"I'm going to go check upstairs," she announced to nobody in particular, shrugging her pack and her musket off her shoulders and proceeding to the staircase. She hummed a jaunty tune as she walked, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet. She walked up the stairs and down the hall, her fingers tracing a line in the dust-covered wall. It wasn't hard to spot the door to the master bedroom, considering that it was large, ornate, and closed - rather curiously, the fine woodcarving of the door seemed to have held up much better than anything else she'd seen in the mansion. Rose threw it open with one hand, her pistol held out, ready to fire.

Nothing leaped out from the shadows baying for her blood, which was a good sign. Unfortunately, that was about where her luck ended.

Stepping into the master bedroom was like stepping into the past. Though the age of the place was still obvious, it seemed as though some care had been taken in maintaining the room's finery. The walls were a deep maroon, similar to the downstairs, and the curtains of the window were well-maintained, like someone had washed them recently; they wouldn't have looked out of place in her old home in Caracas, and people had lived there. The room wasn't entirely presentable, of course - the dressers were a complete mess, thrown open with half-folded clothes strewn about the place. It didn't look like looters, since quite a few obviously valuable garments had been left behind and some care had clearly been taken in not ransacking the place. It was more like someone had packed to leave, and done so in a hurry. In a corner of the room there was a large golden harp, further evidence that this room hadn't been ransacked, but none of that was what caught Rose's immediate attention.

That was the skeleton that had been tied to the bed, laying spread eagle with its hands cut off and its sternum crushed, obviously by some terrible brute force. Rose swore and stepped back towards the door when she saw it, her pistol raised, but when it failed to rise from the dead and attack her she lowered the weapon and stepped forward again. Something was written on the wall above the bed, barely legible but clearly in blood. My dear *illegible* our eternal home was all that she could make out. "Spooky," Rose said to herself, prodding the skeleton's ruined chest with the barrel of her gun. She picked up a fine gown from the floor and sniffed it - it was musty, but not nearly as ragged and moth-eaten as it should have been. There was a creak in the ceiling above her, and she darted her head around to face it. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed something on top of the dresser - an open book, still bound, pages slightly yellowed but seemingly readable. She reached up, thankful not for the first time that she came from tall stock, and pulled the book down to inspect it.

'Incomprehensible' was a good way of describing the page the book was open to, as was 'ominous'. Rose liked to consider herself a studious sort, but whatever this book was about was completely over her head; clearly it had something to do with magic, as evidenced by words like 'ritual' and 'binding' and the creepy patterns she glimpsed as she flipped through a few pages. She remembered that the noble, Heinrich, was supposed to be something of an occultist - maybe he'd know what this was about. She spared one last glance at the skeleton and turned to leave.

A Tale of Blood and Fog

"That's great," Roselyn observed dryly, trying to ignore the shaking of her own hand as she took in the sight of the dead village and the manor looming through the fog. "That's the direction I want to be going."

Mechanically, without focusing, she drew her pistol from her belt and went through the steps of loading it, making it ready to fire. She paused short of affixing the match-cord to the firing mechanism - that could be done quickly enough, and it wouldn't do for the weapon to go off prematurely and alert... whatever their 'ward' was so nervous about.

She cast her gaze around the party as she did so. In a sense, they were the most disturbing detail about the hellish world she'd found herself in - without them, this forest would seem a surreal and shifting nightmare, the product of her terrified mind as she sat in the hold of the ship that brought her to her new life and tried not to think about the roiling abyss below. But these three did not belong - she would not have placed them here. It was real, then, and she had arrived.

Hadar, the mute, the Tiefling with the massive sword. Heinrich, the red-eyed nobleman. Anwyn, the girl with golden scales on her face - it must have been a disease, some kind of condition, but it was beautiful. And me. The girl in the mask.

She was shaken out of her ruminations by a loud thump and a groan from within one of the cottages, causing her to start involuntarily. "There's something in that one," she said. "Survivor, maybe? Should we check it out?" She couldn't imagine what had happened to this place, or that anyone could survive it, remain squatting, trapped in the remains of a ruined home.

But then, people could survive all sorts of things.

A Tale of Blood and Fog

Roselyn Delire

Roselyn

Character Summary

Name: Roselyn Delire
Titles: The Girl in the Mask
Aliases: Rose, Rosey
Age: 19
Race/Ethnicty: Human
Continent of Origin:Valenndalic
Gender: Female
Class/Subclass: Gunslinger

Stats

Strength: 8
Dexterity: 18
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 16
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 15

Physical Attributes

Height: 5’11”
Weight: 125 lb.
Appearance Description: Rose is a tall, willowy girl with shoulder-length red hair and green eyes. Her skin is tanned and freckled, and her face is usually stained with soot, as are her hands.
Day To Day Attire: Modest brown traveling attire, usually stained in mud. Wears a red bandanna as a neckerchief in case she needs to pull it over her face.
Strengths:

• Brave
• Fast Thinker
• Fun

Weaknesses:

• Obnoxious
• Headstrong
• Easy to Anger

Psychological Attributes

Bold * Independent * Mouthy * Foolish

Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Rose is sharp, clever, and independent. She has a strong sense of right and wrong and can’t stand anyone that falls on the ‘wrong’. She’s mouthy and impetuous, always saying exactly what she thinks and unafraid to start an argument with anyone, authority figure or otherwise. Once she gets something set in her mind, it’s difficult to dissuade her from it, and she’ll pursue her goals with relentless energy and aggression. She’ll never back down from a fight, even if she almost definitely should, and her planning skills are essentially limited to ‘wing it’. In spite of her obnoxious tendencies, however, she’s a loyal friend with a deep sense of idealism and wonder; she wants to make the world a better place just like her father did, she just thinks that the way to do it involves a lot more powder and blood.
Habits:

• Extremely fidgety, usually tapping her feet or humming if she’s not doing anything else.
• Cleans her guns fastidiously – if she has a minute with nothing better do to, she’s liable to bring out a rag and begin wiping them down.

Hobbies: Loves to dance, particularly to the fast-paced, frantic music popular in her home. Has no musical talent whatsoever, but always wanted to learn.
Fears:

• Drowning – Roselyn can’t swim a stroke and is terrified of deep water.
• Hypnosis – She was raised on stories of vampires and witches that could use evil magic to control minds, and she’s still deeply disturbed by the idea of anything taking her free will away.
• Survivor Guilt – she can’t stand the idea of losing people she cares about and living; not again.

Likes:

• Guns
• Horses
• Music
• Science
• Excitement
• Starry Nights

Dislikes:

• Cats
• Criminals
• Cruelty
• Planning
• Self-Importance
• Purple

Skills

A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision.

• Marksmanship:Roselyn is a deadeye with firearms, able to aim fast and hit the target reliably.
• Horseback Riding:She’s had to make more than a few getaways on horseback, and is an excellent rider.
• Tinker: She’s not an inventor by any means, but teaching picked up from her father combined with time fiddling with his contraptions has made her knowledgeable enough about engineering to do some basic repair and improvements on her equipment.
• Liar: Roselyn subscribes to the ‘swamp them with bullshit’ school of lying – she has an infinite ability to bluster, babble and generally confuse the crap out of anyone until they don’t know which way is up.

Possessions

Possessions Generally On Person: Clothing, coin purse, money, etc

• Coin Purse
• Clothes: Four changes.
• Spyglass: Her father’s. Dented slightly.
• Locket: Silver. Belonged to her mother.
• Black Powder & Ammunition Gotta have it.

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Matchlock Pistol: Made by her father, a black-powder pistol with a revolutionary matchlock firing system.
• Matchlock Musket: Former property of the Caracas City Guard and modified to support a matchlock firing system. She’s not as good a shot with this one, but she’s getting better.
• Longsword: Bog-standard steel longsword from the city of Caracas. She has only the vaguest knowledge of how to use it (pointy end goes in enemy).

Armor:

• Leather Padding: A boiled leather vest capable of deflecting some harm while allowing for maximum range of movement.

Potions:

• Healing Potion: Snagged these from a gang hideout she shot up – she’s got three of them, and they all work like a cinch.
• Alchemist’s Fire: A flask of alchemical mixture that will burst into a sticky flaming tarpit when thrown. She’s saving it.

History

History: Rose was born in the city of Caracas in Valenndale, one of the city-states that made up the Union. She was the only child of Oscar and Evelynn Delire – her mother passed away giving birth to her, leaving her to be raised by her father alone. Her father was a futurist to the core – a scholar and inventor, he would tell her tales of great scientific discoveries, of all the wonderful things that would soon be possible and of the new world that was surely coming. He designed waterwheels and wind mills and other, stranger devices, and Rose worshipped him as a hero for most of her life. Unfortunately, for all his idealism, he was ill-suited to the real world; futurism wasn’t a career that payed, and to be poor in a town as lawless as Caracas was a dangerous preposition. One night, when she was seventeen years old, Roselyn came home from the local tavern to find her father in his workshop, in a heated conversation with two ugly, stout men with black caps; she recognized them immediately as Stoats, the organized gang that had taken over the streets in recent years. As soon as she walked in, her father threw herself at the men, telling her to run – and she did, pausing only to grab her father’s most recent creation from the table by the door. The workshop burned down later that night; the story the magistrate told was that the fire was the result of an accident, and that Rose and her father had both perished in the flames. To die was not so rare in those times, and life went on.

Until, a year later, the streets of Caracas began to run red with blood. A man known to be affiliated with the Stoats was found dead in an alleyway, another murdered in his home two days later. Both of them had the same ragged wounds, like something had blown a hole in them – gunshot wounds. People began telling stories of the one responsible, the girl in the mask with red hair out to wage a one-woman-war against the crime syndicate; though in truth, Rose had more than her share of allies in those days, people who would shelter and hide her and bind up her wounds. Her crusade continued for a few weeks, over the course of which she killed two more Stoats and wounded several more. Perhaps fortunately for her, the law caught up with her before the Stoats did, for she was fighting a battle she had no chance of winning. She was arrested in one of her safe houses in the wee hours of the morning, just before launching her most ambitious assault on the Stoats yet. For her crimes, she would have been sentenced to death, though the issue of her trial became something of a political nightmare for the ruling elite of the city, as to watch the law put a folk hero to death, especially one so young, might very well have resulted in the city’s latent tensions boiling over. Fortunately for everyone, another option presented itself – a visiting dignitary from the nation of Vicelles who had heard of her skill and courage suggested that she would be quite welcome in the Order of Vigilance, and though Caracas had never done it, there was political precedence for foreign nations to exile their prisoners into the Order’s service. She was informed of her fate when several armed guards marched into her ragged cell, she assumed to lead her to an execution; she would instead be brought to Vicelles and made to take up the oath, where her initiative and skill could be turned to a purpose more noble than revenge.

Extras

Character Quote: “You don’t believe in anything you’re not prepared to fight for.”
Anything Else: Theme Song: Hunt You Down

A Tale of Blood and Fog

Woops, this was supposed to be the characters tab.

A Tale of Blood and Fog

Hey guys, really excited to see what everyone comes up with! I've been communicating with the GM about this CS, but I figured I might as well post her here in case anyone wanted to see what characters other people came up with before picking their own, like I sometimes do.

Roselyn Delire

Roselyn

Character Summary

Name: Roselyn Delire
Titles: The Girl in the Mask
Aliases: Rose, Rosey
Age: 19
Race/Ethnicty: Human
Continent of Origin:Valenndalic
Gender: Female
Class/Subclass: Gunslinger

Stats

Strength: 8
Dexterity: 18
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 16
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 15

Physical Attributes

Height: 5’11”
Weight: 125 lb.
Appearance Description: Rose is a tall, willowy girl with shoulder-length red hair and green eyes. Her skin is tanned and freckled, and her face is usually stained with soot, as are her hands.
Day To Day Attire: Modest brown traveling attire, usually stained in mud. Wears a red bandanna as a neckerchief in case she needs to pull it over her face.
Strengths:

• Brave
• Fast Thinker
• Fun

Weaknesses:

• Obnoxious
• Headstrong
• Easy to Anger

Psychological Attributes

Bold * Independent * Mouthy * Foolish

Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Rose is sharp, clever, and independent. She has a strong sense of right and wrong and can’t stand anyone that falls on the ‘wrong’. She’s mouthy and impetuous, always saying exactly what she thinks and unafraid to start an argument with anyone, authority figure or otherwise. Once she gets something set in her mind, it’s difficult to dissuade her from it, and she’ll pursue her goals with relentless energy and aggression. She’ll never back down from a fight, even if she almost definitely should, and her planning skills are essentially limited to ‘wing it’. In spite of her obnoxious tendencies, however, she’s a loyal friend with a deep sense of idealism and wonder; she wants to make the world a better place just like her father did, she just thinks that the way to do it involves a lot more powder and blood.
Habits:

• Extremely fidgety, usually tapping her feet or humming if she’s not doing anything else.
• Cleans her guns fastidiously – if she has a minute with nothing better do to, she’s liable to bring out a rag and begin wiping them down.

Hobbies: Loves to dance, particularly to the fast-paced, frantic music popular in her home. Has no musical talent whatsoever, but always wanted to learn.
Fears:

• Drowning – Roselyn can’t swim a stroke and is terrified of deep water.
• Hypnosis – She was raised on stories of vampires and witches that could use evil magic to control minds, and she’s still deeply disturbed by the idea of anything taking her free will away.
• Survivor Guilt – she can’t stand the idea of losing people she cares about and living; not again.

Likes:

• Guns
• Horses
• Music
• Science
• Excitement
• Starry Nights

Dislikes:

• Cats
• Criminals
• Cruelty
• Planning
• Self-Importance
• Purple

Skills

A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision.

• Marksmanship:Roselyn is a deadeye with firearms, able to aim fast and hit the target reliably.
• Horseback Riding:She’s had to make more than a few getaways on horseback, and is an excellent rider.
• Tinker: She’s not an inventor by any means, but teaching picked up from her father combined with time fiddling with his contraptions has made her knowledgeable enough about engineering to do some basic repair and improvements on her equipment.
• Liar: Roselyn subscribes to the ‘swamp them with bullshit’ school of lying – she has an infinite ability to bluster, babble and generally confuse the crap out of anyone until they don’t know which way is up.

Possessions

Possessions Generally On Person: Clothing, coin purse, money, etc

• Coin Purse
• Clothes: Four changes.
• Spyglass: Her father’s. Dented slightly.
• Locket: Silver. Belonged to her mother.
• Black Powder & Ammunition Gotta have it.

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items

• Matchlock Pistol: Made by her father, a black-powder pistol with a revolutionary matchlock firing system.
• Matchlock Musket: Former property of the Caracas City Guard and modified to support a matchlock firing system. She’s not as good a shot with this one, but she’s getting better.
• Longsword: Bog-standard steel longsword from the city of Caracas. She has only the vaguest knowledge of how to use it (pointy end goes in enemy).

Armor:

• Leather Padding: A boiled leather vest capable of deflecting some harm while allowing for maximum range of movement.

Potions:

• Healing Potion: Snagged these from a gang hideout she shot up – she’s got three of them, and they all work like a cinch.
• Alchemist’s Fire: A flask of alchemical mixture that will burst into a sticky flaming tarpit when thrown. She’s saving it.

History

History: Rose was born in the city of Caracas in Valenndale, one of the city-states that made up the Union. She was the only child of Oscar and Evelynn Delire – her mother passed away giving birth to her, leaving her to be raised by her father alone. Her father was a futurist to the core – a scholar and inventor, he would tell her tales of great scientific discoveries, of all the wonderful things that would soon be possible and of the new world that was surely coming. He designed waterwheels and wind mills and other, stranger devices, and Rose worshipped him as a hero for most of her life. Unfortunately, for all his idealism, he was ill-suited to the real world; futurism wasn’t a career that payed, and to be poor in a town as lawless as Caracas was a dangerous preposition. One night, when she was seventeen years old, Roselyn came home from the local tavern to find her father in his workshop, in a heated conversation with two ugly, stout men with black caps; she recognized them immediately as Stoats, the organized gang that had taken over the streets in recent years. As soon as she walked in, her father threw herself at the men, telling her to run – and she did, pausing only to grab her father’s most recent creation from the table by the door. The workshop burned down later that night; the story the magistrate told was that the fire was the result of an accident, and that Rose and her father had both perished in the flames. To die was not so rare in those times, and life went on.

Until, a year later, the streets of Caracas began to run red with blood. A man known to be affiliated with the Stoats was found dead in an alleyway, another murdered in his home two days later. Both of them had the same ragged wounds, like something had blown a hole in them – gunshot wounds. People began telling stories of the one responsible, the girl in the mask with red hair out to wage a one-woman-war against the crime syndicate; though in truth, Rose had more than her share of allies in those days, people who would shelter and hide her and bind up her wounds. Her crusade continued for a few weeks, over the course of which she killed two more Stoats and wounded several more. Perhaps fortunately for her, the law caught up with her before the Stoats did, for she was fighting a battle she had no chance of winning. She was arrested in one of her safe houses in the wee hours of the morning, just before launching her most ambitious assault on the Stoats yet. For her crimes, she would have been sentenced to death, though the issue of her trial became something of a political nightmare for the ruling elite of the city, as to watch the law put a folk hero to death, especially one so young, might very well have resulted in the city’s latent tensions boiling over. Fortunately for everyone, another option presented itself – a visiting dignitary from the nation of Vicelles who had heard of her skill and courage suggested that she would be quite welcome in the Order of Vigilance, and though Caracas had never done it, there was political precedence for foreign nations to exile their prisoners into the Order’s service. She was informed of her fate when several armed guards marched into her ragged cell, she assumed to lead her to an execution; she would instead be brought to Vicelles and made to take up the oath, where her initiative and skill could be turned to a purpose more noble than revenge.

Extras

Character Quote: “You don’t believe in anything you’re not prepared to fight for.”
Anything Else: Nothing yet.

Oh, also, I swear allegiance to Caracas.

A Tale of Blood and Fog

I'll let you know if I have anything. Thinking about a Gunslinger-type from The Union, on Vallendale, but I may see what other people come up with.

A Tale of Blood and Fog

Interested.

An Error in Morality (A Cyberpunk Story)

Sounds great, looking forward to getting started!