Red7VII

Welcome to Ashton: A Modern Town RP

The Parlour

He was a little early. This much was apparent as the chilled air swept over him. It wasn't as cold as the atmosphere outside, but the thermostat definitely seemed to be hovering around a lower setting, no doubt in preparation for all the body heat that would soon offset it once the place started to really come alive.

The establishment's patrons were starting to trickle in and Reno suspected, once it hit a certain hour, that the trickle would turn into a pour. In the meantime, he took in the view. Scantily clad employees wrapped in shiny, reflective garb... barbacks wiping down counter tops and rolling in kegs... the house sound engineer doing his audio tests. The show was about to truly go on soon and the players were busy getting to their marks.

It was something Reno always enjoyed seeing. The Before. Watching a group of people excitedly preparing for the nightly party usually filled the air with a tickle of anticipation. It was infectious and he, too, found himself eagerly awaiting what this place had to offer.

With a slow stroll, he walked toward the heart of the place; the bar. Already he could see an exquisite specimen of a woman conversing with a mountain of a man. Not wanting to impose, he drifted toward the opposite end, giving a crooked smile and a slight nod to anyone he passed in the process. He always considered it slightly rude not to at least acknowledge other people with whom you made eye contact.

With a small, relaxed sigh, his found his perch and rested his forearms on the counter top as his eyes drifted over the selection of bottles presented behind the bar. They fell on a particularly reputable brand of scotch and the silver haired man knew he'd found his drink for the night. As soon as the keep came around, he'd reserve the entire bottle.

As one of the shiny women passed hurriedly by him, he couldn't help but turn his head, taking in the full view of her, gravity and biology joining forces to create a bouncing visage of perfection as she continued on in the opposite direction.

"My, my," he said finally in a drawn out moan. With that, his slammed his fist down on the counter which erupted in a quick thud, his grin wide as ever. "I think I'm ready to get started," he exclaimed eagerly. "Oh, keeper of the liquid ambrosia," he called outward melodically to any ear that would hear it. "I am ready for immortality!"

⚫ The Fates' School for Gifted Monsters ⚫

Swiss Army Jesus

Dante Stagnum

Age
⚫ Eighteen

Gender
⚫ Male

Ethnicity
⚫ Anglo-Saxon

Height
⚫ 6'1" (roughly 185cm)

Weight
⚫ 165lbs (79kg)

---

Mutant's Mark
⚫ Dante's arms and legs are naturally scarred in a way that looks like his veins are accented, much like a lightening scar. The veins are a dark red and trickle from his shoulders to his finger tips as well as his thighs to the tips of his toes.

Appearance
⚫ Dante is lean, yet muscularly toned with generally unkempt dark hair and is almost never clean shaven, looking stubbly on his best days and akin to a homeless vagrant on his worst.
⚫ He keeps his wardrobe simple and functional, preferring long sleeves and pants to help hide his abnormality. He is not one for extravagance nor does he feel the need to impress others with his appearance.
⚫ He has dark bags under his eyes, giving evidence to his insomnia.

Personality
⚫ Dante is a fan of gambling and competition in general.
⚫ He is initially timid around new people but once you win over his trust, he can be an extremely loyal companion.
⚫ When he is tired, which is quite often, he can become snarky and sarcastic. On a day where he is more well rested and content, he can be quite compassionate and empathetic.
⚫ He is not afraid to be alone, though he does prefer the company of others. He recognizes that being part of a team as well as being your own person both have their advantages.
⚫ Dante can be underhanded and sneaky as a means of self preservation. He does not wish ill will upon others as a policy, but if your goals hinder his, he will always choose his first.

---

Everyday Skills
⚫ Dante is a gifted picker of locks and pockets, both of which he employs regularly to make ends meet and fill his stomach.
⚫ He is also quite adept at moving stealthily in addition to being gifted in the art of camouflage.

Combat Skills
⚫ When in combat, Dante is does not employ much finesse, instead usually letting his adrenaline take hold. His fighting style could be best described as a berserk flurry of rage. All offense, very little defense.
⚫ Dante is adept at bladed weapons, usually opting for the ones nature has given him as oppose to ones made by man.

Equipment
⚫ Dante carries very little on his person other than a money bag and a satchel that straps over his shoulder for various storage purposes. He almost always carries flint as well in case he ever has to camp outside.

---

Powers
⚫ Bio Morphing/Shapeshifting
⚫ Dante's appendages, primarily (but not limited to) his arms, hands and fingers are able to be genetically modified at will, changing size, shape and even material. Specifically, Dante can modify them to stretch in length into a sort of tendril and transform parts or all of them into a durable metallic substance akin to steel.
⚫ There are various applications for his transformations ranging from a tendril with a bladed tip (which can act as a grapple, a harpoon or a razor sharp whip), his fingers can be modified to act as lock picks (for instance), or he can transform his entire arm into a malleable bio-sword.
⚫ His appendages, specifically, can heal at an accelerated rate. If his arm were to be severed, he'd have a fresh one within days. He also had advanced control over the biology of said appendages meaning he can clot and close wounds that they endure at will.

Weaknesses
⚫ He cannot currently change his entire body. His torso, abdomen and face are mostly human in description and his most vulnerable areas.
⚫ While Dante has some fairly useful features, he is not immune to pain or damage. If you strike a sword at the hilt, the hilt may become dented, but it's still a usable sword. If you strike Dante's at the hilt, his arm is likely to come off.
⚫ Dante is vulnerable to all the dangers that a typical human would face. His abilities grant him some offensive and utility advantages but they provide very little in extraordinary defense. You engulf him in flame, and he will burn. You encase him in ice and it will lead to frostbite and ultimately death. While his abilities sound fantastical, he might as well just be a guy with a biological Swiss army knife, which doesn't make him much more of a threat than a regular human with bladed weapons.

⚫ The Fates' School for Gifted Monsters ⚫

For your consideration...

Zee sounds stupid anyway

Zed Draven

Age
⚫ Eighteen

Gender
⚫ Male

Ethnicity
⚫ Anglo-Saxon

Height
⚫ 6'1" (roughly 185cm)

Weight
⚫ 175lbs (79kg)

---

Mutant's Mark
⚫ Zed's arms and legs are naturally scarred in a way that looks like his veins are accented, much like a lightening scar. The veins are a dark red and trickle from his shoulders to his finger tips as well as his thighs to the tips of his toes.

Appearance
⚫ Zed is muscularly tone with generally unkempt dark hair and is almost never clean shaven, looking stubbly on his best days and akin to a homeless vagrant on his worst.
⚫ He keeps his wardrobe simple and functional, preferring long sleeves and pants to help hide his abnormality. He is not one for extravagance nor does he feel the need to impress others with his appearance.
⚫ He has dark bags under his eyes, giving evidence to his insomnia.

Personality
⚫ Zed is a fan of gambling and competition in general.
⚫ He is initially timid around new people but once you win over his trust, he can be an extremely loyal companion.
⚫ When he is tired, which is quite often, he can become snarky and sarcastic. On a day where he is more well rested and content, he can be quite compassionate and empathetic.
⚫ He is not afraid to be alone, though he does prefer the company of others. He recognizes that being part of a team as well as being your own person both have their advantages.
⚫ Zed can be underhanded and sneaky as a means of self preservation. He does not wish ill will upon others as a policy, but if your goals hinder his, he will always choose his first.

---

Everyday Skills
⚫ Zed is a gifted picker of locks and pockets, both of which he employs regularly to make ends meet and fill his stomach.
⚫ He is also quite adept at moving quickly while making at little noise as possible in addition to being gifted in the art of camouflage.

Combat Skills
⚫ When in combat, Zed is does not employ much finesse, instead usually letting his adrenaline take hold. His fighting style could be best described as a berserk flurry of rage. All offense, very little defense.
⚫ Zed is adept at bladed weapons, usually opting for the ones nature has given him as oppose to ones made by man.

Equipment
⚫ Zed carries very little on his person other than a money bag and a satchel that straps over his shoulder for various storage purposes. He almost always carries flint as well in case he ever has to camp outside.

---

Powers
⚫ Bio Morphing/Shapeshifting
⚫ Zed's appendages, primarily (but not limited to) his arms, hands and fingers are able to be genetically modified at will, changing size, shape and even material. Specifically, Zed can modify them to stretch in length into a sort of tendril and transform parts or all of them into a durable metallic substance akin to steel.
⚫ There are various applications for his transformations ranging from a tendril with a bladed tip (which can act as a grapple, a harpoon or a razor sharp whip), his fingers can be modified to act as lock picks (for instance), or he can transform his entire arm into a malleable bio-sword.
⚫ His appendages, specifically, can heal at an accelerated rate. If his arm were to be severed, he'd have a fresh one within days. He also had advanced control over the biology of said appendages meaning he can clot and close wounds that they endure at will.

Weaknesses
⚫ He cannot currently change his entire body. His torso, abdomen and face are mostly human in description and his most vulnerable areas.
⚫ While Zed has some fairly useful features, he is not immune to pain or damage. If you strike a sword at the hilt, the hilt may become dented, but it's still a usable sword. If you strike Zed's at the hilt, his arm is likely to come off.
⚫ Zed is vulnerable to all the dangers that a typical human would face. His abilities grant him some offensive and utility advantages but they provide very little in extraordinary defense. You engulf him in flame, and he will burn. You encase him in ice and it will lead to frostbite and ultimately death. While his abilities sound fantastical, he might as well just be a guy with a biological Swiss army knife, which doesn't make him much more of a threat than a regular human with bladed weapons.

The Red Hoods: Accepting Applications

The Red Hoods: Rebirth is open once again for applications.

In short, this is the 2nd RP is a series that hovers around fantasy/horror. Whereas the first installment has a medieval setting, this one is set in modern times.

Vampires, werewolves, fairies, demons... These aren't fantastical monsters. These are your neighbors. Welcome to the city of Duncaster, fabled home of the now defunct Red Hoods. Centuries ago, the Red Hoods were sanctioned monster hunters whose ranks were composed of humans and devilish creatures alike, ready to take on the darkness at a moment's notice and led by the great Blanchette Rouge, the original Red Riding Hood of legend.

The Red Hoods: Initiates and the medieval iteration ended with a fight against a powerful mage, Samael, with necromantic abilities who raised an army of the undead. As the Red Hoods and, indeed, all the forces the lands could muster, attacked the horde of zombies the tide was slowly beginning to turn in their favor. Once the Red Hoods had Samael cornered, the despicable sorcerer opened a portal in time and escaped into the future. Seizing the opportunity to continue their pursuit, some of the Red Hoods jumped in after him.

That brings us to The Red Hoods: Rebirth. The Red Hoods, as an organization, is historically recognized but practically disbanded. The portal opens up and Samael is now loose in the city in this new modern world. The Red Hoods of old, too, find themselves the proverbial fish out of water as they land into a new version of Duncaster with cars, electricity and automatic weapons.

A Unity Celebration commemorating the memory of the Red Hoods is currently underway and several people, including the Hoods Out Of Time, are drawn to the congregation. Meanwhile the seedy underworld of Duncaster has an agenda of its own.

Do you have what it takes to answer the call? Can you don the hood and stare down the Devil?

Applications are open for a limited time and there really aren't many spots to fill, so make haste and let's go kick some monster ass!

roleplayerguild.com/topics/179780-the…
@c3p-0h@MsMorningstar@NorthernKraken

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Sorry to see you go. Much luck in your endeavors.

To that end, I'm going to go ahead and open up the RP to applications again since it is still relatively early in the game.

⚫ The Fates' School for Gifted Monsters ⚫

I think I will be leaning toward bio morphing / shape shifting. Less of a mimic and more of an ability to manipulate the shape and structure of one's own body similarly to a Mercer "Prototype" type of ability.

⚫ The Fates' School for Gifted Monsters ⚫

Nailing down a power in one of these types of games always seems like the most nerve wracking and exciting parts. I've got a fire guy in a different RP, so I definitely want to try something new and different. I also think I'm going to steer clear of elementals in general for this one.

BUT WHAT THOUGH?!

I'll hopefully have an idea by tomorrow.

⚫ The Fates' School for Gifted Monsters ⚫

Color me interested!

Welcome to Ashton: A Modern Town RP

Valentine Residence, Northern Ashton > The Parlour

"Fuckin' cold," he cursed as he stared out the window, his bluetooth earpiece attached and active. Standing in his boxers and grimacing at the weather outside, it was finally time for Reno to get dressed. He had been on vampire hours ever since he got into this business. For him, this was morning. "Charlie, why did I ever leave Houston?" His business associate on the other end of the line gave a small chuckle before reminding him about his own desire to expand the brand. This was his opportunity to see if the Lobo Loco still worked as a concept in a small town setting. Until now, it was a venue reserved for big cities with a preexisting and proven profitable nightlife. This experiment would be interesting. Could the Lobo Loco create that experience no matter where it was built?

The floor to ceiling windows of his sizable bedroom reflected his own image back to him. He grunted. Something about being caught with a bluetooth earpiece always made him feel like a douchebag. Regardless, he needed to get dressed and therefore needed his hands. He dismissed his twatwaffle visage with a wave and retreated to his closet. There he retrieved a red dress shirt and black slacks along with a roll of black socks before returning to his king sized bed and beginning the process of being less naked.

"Where are we at with the license," Reno demanded to know. What's a club without liquor? His associate gave a flimsy response which meant that they are now where they were before; in limbo. Reno had a habit of putting the carriage in front of the horse. He hadn't even established a location for his enterprise and he was already trying to cut through the red tape. At the news, he sighed impatiently while buttoning his shirt. "Call me back when you have something that makes me happy about paying your salary." With that, he took the earpiece and chucked it toward a chair across the room as if it were a disgusting booger that he found on his finger.

After slipping on his black leather boots, Reno made his way downstairs, each step clicking on the hard floor below him. He opened his expansive refrigerator and pulled out a tallboy before making his way to the livingroom and reaching under his coffee table. In his hands was suddenly an ornate metal box with a red sheen and a spiral pattern on the face. He set it down and opened it up. To the left was his tobacco and his pipe. To the right was was his other pipe and a difference substance that wasn't tobacco. On this particular evening, he opted for the former, grabbing a small baggy of the legal stuff and his dark wooden apparatus. After a quick job of packing and lighting, Reno stepped through the cloud he had just created and moved toward the garage, grabbing his dark pea coat off the rack on his way.

There to greet him was his favorite toy, the Lincoln Continental that he had gifted to himself after making his first six figures. He nearly lost it in the divorce half a decade ago. That event helped serve his new endeavor of branching out and moving away. He wanted to leave that part of his life completely behind. There was something scary, yet refreshing, about starting over. Once in his car, he triggered the garage door to open, letting the frosty air encompass the room. Between puffs, Reno audibly whispered "Fuck" once the chill kissed his exposed skin. He pulled out of his driveway and began rolling toward town. As the radio played, the tantric sounds of Tool was abruptly interrupted by a special bulletin.

"...Sheriff found dead by Lake Azu-"

"Oh, fuck off!" he shouted, especially upset at the imposition. Schism was one of his favorite tracks. Angrily he began turning the dial to something else. After several rounds of static, he finally found a station that was coming through clear.

"...I do my hair toss, check my nails. Baby how you feelin'?"

"Feelin' good as hell!" he shouted in unison with the artist, his grin instantly returning. As he rolled by several establishments in town, he noted that Brewster's Coffee was particularly busy for the hour. As his sipped his roadie, he knew coffee was the last beverage he was seeking out tonight. As he continued to let his toy hum down the road, The Parlour soon came into view. As far as he could tell, this would be his main competition once he planted his roots. To that end, it was also one of the more exciting places to be in this living Pleasantville metaphor.

Having made his decision, he found a parking spot and sat in the car for a few extra moments to finish his drink before daring to face the winter night long enough to make his way to the front door. In one of the trashcans outside, he tossed his empty can and tapped out the used up remnants of tobacco from his pipe before stashing it into one of the inner pockets of his pea coat. Finally, he was ready. With a smirk and a sense of excited anticipation, he opened the doors and stepped inside.

Welcome to Ashton: A Modern Town RP

Sometimes Silver is better than Gold

Reno Valentine

The Man

Age: 51
Gender: Male
Profession: Entertainment Entrepreneur and Night Club Owner
Personality: Humorous and sarcastic with an ultimate heart of gold, Reno is generally easy to get along with as long as you like a little spice. Cross him, however, and you'll find yourself face to face with a musclebound beast of aggression. Don't let his age fool you. Reno can still throw hands.
How long have you lived in Ashton?: 3 months
What would most people know about you?: Reno is a new kid on the block, so to speak, hoping to launch a new extension of his franchise within the town.
Additional info you want to share: Divorced about 5 years ago, Reno has dived deep into his work which consists of nightly entertainment, promotions, and liquor distributions. Judging by his personality, he is 51 going on 22 and is finally in a place in his life where he has enough money to satiate his inner deviant. A fan of reading, business, excess and spontaneity, Reno is a party in a Man Suit and wants nothing more than to have a good time.