Rune_Alchemist

Tales Of Shizuyama: Alternative (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

Tentacles has done her thing

hopefully this is acecptable~

Tales Of Shizuyama: Alternative (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

Nyla, your friendly neighborhood baker
Janus' Campsite

---

The fight was lost, she knew that much but she was unconcerned. She didn't care about the rest of the people. She was only here for the Oja clan and Lady Kyouko. The man she could tell now was conventionally handsome, under all that grime and the effort of a battlefield had taken.

"Yes, that's right. Gently now, you-eh?" Out of all the things she had expected, it was not for him to ignore the pastry and go straight for her. A hand was placed against her soft, somewhat gooey flesh. Upon hearing the words that left his lips though, the Shoggoth's face turned a shade of red that maybe would think she had been injured in battle from a distance.

In response, the shoggoth reacted reflexively.

"M-my lord jokes too much!" She'd retort, silencing him by shoving his face into her thighs. It was probably a good thing he had already passed out by then. Well, he was certainly not bad looking and he seemed receptive to her, so she should probably hang onto him. When Janus inevitably found her, he'd find her blushing like a school girl and giggling excitedly until Nyla noticed him where she'd return to her usual cool demeanor.

"Understood, Sir Janus." She'd say. "As Lady Kyouko requested, I shall not leave his side." Thankfully carrying him should be easy enough. The Shoggoth would envelop him in her body, quickly following Janus back towards the camp. Thankfully, it was an uneventful trip.

"Sir Janus." Nyla replied, folding her hands in front of her. Lord Oja was gently wrapped in her body mass, laying on what was effectively just a stretcher made of herself. "He is stable. I unfortunately am no trained healer or mage, but I have done as I can and bandaged his wounds and set any broken bones on the way here. Everything else will be up to him for now. I do not intend to leave his side until he is well enough to stand on his own." A small bow. "And as I have yet to introduce myself, Sir Janus, you may call me Nyla. If you'll excuse me I shall ensure he is still stable. I ask not to be bothered for the moment until I am done with him."

She'd find an empty tent in the campsite. Getting him out of the elements as best she could was a good first step. Gently, she'd lay him on the ground on a bedroll, and once again using her own legs as a pillow. She really shouldn't but well...anything made from her body was packed full of magical energy. It should help him recover. Of course. There was no other motivations behind it. None at all. Nope.

The tentacles slowly checking the bandages and wounds of course were doing nothing else.

The Storm Cycle: Reclamation

Location:
Llobrokor Mountains
@Pyromania99@VitaVitaAR

---

“W-well…”

“A dragon kin…hm. This might prove slightly difficult.” Elnith frowned. “I have no doubt we can kill one, but this one sounds like it is more dangerous than your standard lizard if it was able to take your hand, Gunnrun.”

“You could…say that.” The giant responded, a despondent expression crossing her features. “It was this big black thing. More giant serpent then some overgrown lizard. It wasn’t something we see often. I think some of the elders called it a Lindwurm or something.”

“A Lindwurm?”

"I didn’t really get a good look at it and I was focused on y’know, not getting the rest of myself eaten. It more just looks like probably a serpent of unusually big size?” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that more than anything. “Uhm, that said to get to it we’ll probably have to head through some territory those funny humans are in so maybe we should figure out how to deal with that first?”

Wisp was lounging around in the jar, pouting and muttering something about being bored and how funny it'd be to watch the 'short one' get eaten.

Location
Harzel Plains
@Crimson Paladin@BrokenPromise

---

“Your highness?” Reinhardt responded with an understandably bemused frown.

“Oh don’t worry. Just fetch us a pair of horses. We will likely be gone for at least a day.”

“...Alright.”

“Lonan, I’ll leave these two in your care then.”

“Understood. Though I am quite curious as to what you’ll be doing with Sir Reinhardt, I doubt you’d feel like answering.”

“I have a hunch after seeing that beast myself. Nothing more, nothing less.” Sorcha frowned. “I hope, however, that I am wrong but we’ll find out shortly.” Reinhardt would soon return with the pair of horses that the two had rode in on. Without much left to be said, the two saddled up and would soon be galloping off, quickly vanishing in the hilly plains towards the mountains….

“I think we have a few options.” Lonan responded to Ethelred’s question. “That thing is fast and agile. Inhumanly so. Intelligent, too. There’s a non-zero chance us following it is nothing more than an ambush so it can pick us off.”

“Too fast for me to help with.” Lif piped up, lugging that heavy cannon looking thing behind her effortlessly. “Unless someone could tie it down and then I blast it, ahaha. Close quarters fighting isn’t my strong suit.”

“Being a pain in the ass is your strong suit, yeah.” Grainne wasn’t far behind. “Damn it…all I could do was hide in the fort…” She grumbled.

“You helped guide all the soldiers into it, Grainne. Not everyone was aware of the situation either. You did your part and succeeded.”

“...Hmph.”

“Anyways, the way I see it Sir Ethelred, Dame Luana. We could follow it, or we can attempt luring it back here and setting a trap ourselves. It really depends on what you would like to do. I would urge the latter myself but if you have other ideas nows the time. We don’t have long to decide but I am open to any suggestions either of you have.”

---

Memories and paths

It had been about a day of uneventful travel that the duo would find themselves on the western slopes of the mountains. Sorcha kept a brisk pace, stopping just long enough to get four hours of sleep between the both of them before the pair once more took off. Aside from dealing with a small fomorian raiding party, the pair made swift time.

“We’ll have to foot it from here.” Sorcha dismounted her steed. “The path will likely be too narrow for the horses in some places.”

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going, your highness.” Reinhardt would follow suit.\

“And I told you to just call me Sorcha when we’re out here by ourselves.”

“Still working on that, you’re highness.”

“Tsk.” Sorcha pouted just slightly, giving Reinhardt a mildly disapproving glare before a quiet chuckle could be heard as she’d start walking. “Maybe you’d prefer if I called you ‘comrade?’ Across the seas it's a term of camaraderie between some funny rat-eared folk.”

“Rat-eared folk? Like the Tuatha?”

“Not quite, though there are definite similarities in physical appearance. Pleasant people, if a bit uppity. They worship an Elder Beast that has a lot more bark then he has bite. He’s quite the incorrigible fellow, really. If I ever see him again I’ll make a rug out of him…”

“You’ve traveled across the oceans, then?”

“Oh…yes, I have. I actually spent quite a lot of time over there before I returned here.” Sorcha immediately fell quiet with a clearing of her throat as the pair came to a ledge overlooking a small ravine. Deep below them, winding through the mountains a path was cut through the mountains. “See that mountain over there? The one with the jagged peak? That’s our destination.”

“Looks like it’d be close to the northern edge of Albion. How far away is it?”

“Depends on how many undesirables we’ll have to deal with…and speaking of…Dragon kin.”

“Well, compared to an actual dragon, these should be easy.”

“Well said. Then after you, Reinhardt. Lets see who can kill the most, aye?”

Why Were We Reincarnated as Orcs?!

@Zeroth

Welp, here she be. Instead of questionable science lizard, I instead went with ~religion~ this time.

Hopefully this is acceptable. I left it pretty open ended with the last bit, but I figured it'd make most sense if while she was around with the others she just went off and decided to pray.

Yorokobe, Shounen

Name:
Sarvok
Formerly, Sarena

Current Stats:
Level: 1 | Form: Orc Runt | Tier: 2

Current Skills:

• Ingestion - After consuming a required amount of biomass from a particular Creature, 1 of that Creature's Skills can be copied at its lowest Rank.
• Isekai Skill - Not Yet Chosen
• Empty Skill Slot
• Empty Skill Slot

Equipment and Inventory:

• Swaddling Pelts - Equip, Clothes - Old animal skins used to keep an Orc baby warm as they sleep. Once the Runt is old enough to start hunting, these are usually just enough to cover the parts that need the most covering.
• Wooden Stick - Equip, Weapon/Tool, Material Component - A wooden stick. From a tree. That's...that's all there is to it. Can be thrown.
• Sharp Rock - Equip, Weapon/Tool, Material Component - A rock with a slightly sharp edge. Useful as a primitive knife or chisel. Can be thrown.

True Age:

38 years, six months

Past Life:

Sarena was born and raised in a small, rural town in the midwest of the united states. Her upbringing otherwise is fairly unremarkable. A loving, if somewhat large family with five brothers and sisters with her being the oldest. A stable environment where her father was a pastor and her mother spent time working as an accountant for a large business firm. The only perhaps, huge impact her early life had on her was her heavy involvmenet in religion.

She eagerly and quickly took to religious teachings that her father gave to her, beginning to believe and worship God from a young age. At school, she also took quite well to most academics in her field, particularly math thanks to her mother and as the years of her early life and highschool passed her by, she'd graduate with flying colors and head off to university to study Theology, History, and archaeology.

Yet, even though she had a life many would be envious of, she could not deny it.

Happiness was not something she believed she ever felt. Contentment? Certainly. But there was something...missing. She could laugh at things she found funny, cry at things she thought was sad. Even so though, there was a deep feeling that something was missing. She had spent much of her praying, thinking, contemplating, trying to find an answer for what exactly she felt that was different.

It wasn't until the middle of her freshman year at college did she find the answer where she was attending a class about religion in ancient Egypt. For all her love and belief in religion and the Lord God, she had never felt as though others were genuine in their beliefs. Hypocrites. Self righteous people who merely used religion for personal gains.

And when she realized this, at first she was afraid. Afraid of the sort of things that it made her feel. Want to do. God said to love all, but then why did those that practice it reject such ideals? The bible was sometimes contradictory in its statements but that was only without looking at it through a context of the time it was written and those who wrote it.

After a night of prayer, she found her answer.

She would become a teacher.

She headed back to her home town after switching degrees, where two things would happen. One, she became a teacher at the highschool. Two, her father would be diagnosed with cancer. Such an ugly thing, cancer wasn't it? But it was, if nothing else an opportunity. The church would need a new pastor, and though it would be unconventional for a woman to do it...well, for as much as they talked about religion corruption, bribes, and a little pushing could easily make it happen.

Of course, ultimately the decision by the Pastoral Committee was controversial but it happened regardless and for the next few years she privately tutored students at the church, gaining something of a reputation for being able to take troubled youths and reforming them through education, religious teaching, and ultimately understanding.

Of course, humans could not become righteous and good without hardship and the people in her care would never speak.

It was one of these students that would both be the end of her life.

He was a troubled kid. Parents were well off, but typically were quite neglectful and abusive but heavily religious. Bullied by his peers too.

A few cans of accelerant.

A match.

The church went up in flames.

She didn't make it out of there, but neither did he.

She made sure of that.

Beloved religious figure killed in fiery arson by troubled youth

So the headlines read, at least for a few years...but that wouldn't be something she was privy to.

She found herself waking in a new world. Ugly. Grotesque. Demonic. It absolutely sickened her, but she did what she always did when she didn't know the path to take, or was feeling troubled. She sneaked away from the rest of those that looked like her, found a secluded spot in a forest, and prayed.

New Life:
Day 1 -> Orc Runt

Tales Of Shizuyama: Alternative (Far-Eastern Monster Girl RP)

Update out!

The taskforce has received: Takeshi Oja!

@PaulHaynek

Would you like to equip Takeshi Oja? Y/N?

>Y

Nyla has successfully equipped Takeshi Oja!

Tentacles will try to behave yes.

Why Were We Reincarnated as Orcs?!

@Zeroth

Boyo im gonna come back with another lady of questionable morals count on it

Ill have something up monday since i work all weekend

Bible of Ichor: Septet for the Dead

Location:
Village
@Pyromania99@crimson Paladin

---

“Old Alavaris, you mean?” Gilles responded, a tone of surprise tinged in his voice. “That place is far too dangerous. Without an escort or someone clearing the way there’s no way we could go there ourselves.” A quiet murmur from the group of people behind him seemed to generally agree with the sentiment that he had spoken of.

“Hm…You know what.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Everyone, return to your homes for now. As soon as we can speak with the other outsiders we’ll decide what we’ll do.” The crowd muttered again, some disagreeing and others merely accepting. Those who disagreed though, would soon disperse with only a little bit of grumbling. A few seemed to be heading over to where Julene was heading.

“You both must be tired at least though. You can stay at my place for the time being and maybe we can talk a bit more about everything here.”

Forest of beasts

---

@Click This@VitaVitaAR

“Eh? I didn’t do anything like that…? Did I?” Kordelia paused, brows furrowed as she considered Giselle’s words. “...mmngh, my head’s all fuzzy.” Kordelia moved away from the two, a frustrated stride carrying her towards a small puddle of bloody ground where she’d proceed to simply kick a rock in frustration, right towards the other two.

Giselle and Aleksiya would watch as the latters severed arm sailed through the air, smacking the former right in the face if she didn't catch it.

“....Found your arm.” Kordelia huffed. “I guess you can fill me in later. All that sounds like suuuper troublesome.” The vampire glanced over her shoulder, to the now dead carcass of the large Bat King. “...Laters. I’ve got something I need to do. I won’t be…long.”

Magus Reaver: Scions of Sorcery

somthing about yellow...

Name:
Haaselle

Appearance:
You'd be forgiven, for judging the one calling her Haaselle by initial appearances. A dirty yellow robe, frayed and worn with holes. A hood, constantly hiding her visage under it. A somewhat tall, slender body that seems to glide across the floor without walking.

Her actual appearance doesn't help much either. Unnaturally sharp teeth, a pale, pallid complexion with deep crimson colored eyes and a messy head of black hair with the occasional octopoid tentacle squirming out from just below the robes neckline.

She doesn't have many other inhuman qualities besides having a number of tentacles at various parts of her body that she is able to manipulate just as dextrously as her arms or legs. Perhaps one of her parents was a human, but she does not remember.

Race:
Beula

Sex:
Female

Age:
20

Magic Divination:
Espermancy & Alchemy

Abilities:

Espermancy

Levitation:
Who needs to walk when you can just make yourself fly? A fairly mundane yet extremely useful skill in any situation. She can control herself fairly dextrously and can achieve a speed of up to about fifteen miles per hour.

Telekenesis:
Any espers bread and butter. The ability to lift objects around without touching them. She can lift roughly a total weight mass of fifty pounds.

Force Blow:
A strong burst of psychic energy that slams into something or someone with the equivalent strength of being able to dent a hole in a brick wall. Can be used at range or coupled with an actual physical attack such as a puch. The only real physical fighting or defensive ability she can use.

Manic Illusions:
Likely her most used and most often used offensive ability. To trick the minds of others. Used for both a variety of defensive and offensive purposes. From creating fake clones of herself, making one believe and feel they are being torn to shreds by a monster, or making them feel completely lost in a hopeless maze, trapped in their own mind wiht no way out.

to drive one to the brink of insanity in the same way she was driven, brings her no small amount of pleasure.

She often combines this with Alchemy in order to confuse enemies further. By making the illusions partly real, one can never truly know what is fake and what is real.

Alchemy

bad Brews:
She took up alchemy soon after being freed from the clutches of the people that took her. She likes to think of herself as a savant. Other people disagree for various reasons. Whatever she makes certainl always gives someone some sort of boon.

But its an insidious thing, and most often poison or messes with the drinkers head in some fashion.

She can make more conventional healing items though, but its not her priority.

Steel Tendrls:
Her skills with transmutation aren't qutie as developed as she'd like. She also is a bit of a wet noodle when it comes to physical combat ability. There was an obvious solution to this. Turn her extra appendages into weapons themselves. Turns the outer layer of their skin into sharp, rough steel.

Earth from Iron:
Pick up mounds of rocks and earth, transmute them into daggers, blades, or throwing swords and launch them with her telekenesis. Simple. Effective.

Equipment:

The only thing Haaselle carries with her is the ceremonial yellow robe she absconded with when she escaped. It seems mundane, but it has the effect of amplifying ones own psionic abilities...while conversly making one more susceptible to them as well. A double edged sword, as you would.

Brief Background:
Haaselle. At least, that is what she calls herself. Her actual name has been lost to her, as is her actual age. Why you ask?

Well have a seat.

Grab a drink.

And let me tell you a story.

Once upon a midnight dreary, was a girl all drenched and weary. She rapt upon neighboring doors, Yet all she was met with was the occupants snores.

A thought that she should not have ran away, for her parents were no doubt dismayed. Yet she could not return, for the path she could not discern.

But lo, upon the grey skies did a moon shine, a yellow hue that did seem divine. A symbol carved in yellow, and a mirthful voice it did bellow. Swept away was the girl, amidst laughter and a cacaphonous whirl.

Oh, was that less of a story and more of a song? Oh I suppsoe I could speak plainly. Fine you spoilsport.

Needless to say, Haaselle was taken from her home at an early age. An argument with her parents. Something she can't remember. A stage upon which she found herself before IT.

Madmen did things to her. For what she does not know. But the things they did left their mark. Changed her. Broke her. Fractured her. Her mind torn and rent in a baleful yellow light.

Then there was laugther. Joyous, mirthful laughter. A cherry red color did they become, all swallowed down, down in a fit of mania.

And thus was the girl freed, standing upon the precipice and a desire for companionship she set away from the place where she had been imprisoned. And thus, came to her stories. Tales of a man named Atreus and the Reavers.

A desire blossomed.

Perhaps, she too, could be part of some story. Thus the girl traveled, a long, long way and soon she found herself among allies and friends, these kind people taking in the clearly troubled and tormented soul in front of them.

Yet, she could still feel it. the nagging in the back of her mind. An urge to do every dark desire her heart wanted.

Sorry, I started to break into rhyme again didn't I? Hehe. But thus, is the end of it. How was it, hm? Didn't like it...?

Well, that's rather unfortunate. Makes me rather irritable, really. I worked really hard on it. Why don't you take another listen? I INSIST.

Anything else we should know about you:
Personality wise, Haassele is something of a mixed bag. Upon intial meeting she seems far too friendly. Easily able to chat away, speak, share stories and otherwise engage in social activities with no problem.

This however, is barely surface deep. A selfish, arrogant, and deeply troubled individual lies just under the surface no dobt due to her history. Violent impulses, manic tendencies. Its one of the main reasons she accepted the idea of working as a Reaver.

She can indulge herelf to her hearts desire in as much debauchery as she wants while hunting criminals like those who took her childhood and life away from her.

Haaselle also considers herself a bit of an artist. Music, sculpting, and playwriting are her most favorite hobbies. Her projects tend to be something of an...acquired taste, though.

Has a sigil of some sort seared into the flesh of her left buttock. She insists she has no idea what it means or how it even got there.

Magus Reaver: Scions of Sorcery

as talented as I am with a wireless keyboard at work

I have neither the patience or time to write a post here so feel free to write her in next update~

I'll move her to the CS tabe when I get home

Magus Reaver: Scions of Sorcery

@AzureKnight

So I might be at work
But thus motivation did lurk

So as I sit here, with a wireless board and phone in hand
I bring to you a CS thus finished grand

Jokes aside lemme know if I need to change anything or gave her too much in way of abilities to start with.

somthing about yellow...

Name:
Haaselle

Appearance:
You'd be forgiven, for judging the one calling her Haaselle by initial appearances. A dirty yellow robe, frayed and worn with holes. A hood, constantly hiding her visage under it. A somewhat tall, slender body that seems to glide across the floor without walking.

Her actual appearance doesn't help much either. Unnaturally sharp teeth, a pale, pallid complexion with deep crimson colored eyes and a messy head of black hair with the occasional octopoid tentacle squirming out from just below the robes neckline.

She doesn't have many other inhuman qualities besides having a number of tentacles at various parts of her body that she is able to manipulate just as dextrously as her arms or legs. Perhaps one of her parents was a human, but she does not remember.

Race:
Beula

Sex:
Female

Age:
20

Magic Divination:
Espermancy & Alchemy

Abilities:

Espermancy

Levitation:
Who needs to walk when you can just make yourself fly? A fairly mundane yet extremely useful skill in any situation. She can control herself fairly dextrously and can achieve a speed of up to about fifteen miles per hour.

Telekenesis:
Any espers bread and butter. The ability to lift objects around without touching them. She can lift roughly a total weight mass of fifty pounds.

Force Blow:
A strong burst of psychic energy that slams into something or someone with the equivalent strength of being able to dent a hole in a brick wall. Can be used at range or coupled with an actual physical attack such as a puch. The only real physical fighting or defensive ability she can use.

Manic Illusions:
Likely her most used and most often used offensive ability. To trick the minds of others. Used for both a variety of defensive and offensive purposes. From creating fake clones of herself, making one believe and feel they are being torn to shreds by a monster, or making them feel completely lost in a hopeless maze, trapped in their own mind wiht no way out.

to drive one to the brink of insanity in the same way she was driven, brings her no small amount of pleasure.

She often combines this with Alchemy in order to confuse enemies further. By making the illusions partly real, one can never truly know what is fake and what is real.

Alchemy

bad Brews:
She took up alchemy soon after being freed from the clutches of the people that took her. She likes to think of herself as a savant. Other people disagree for various reasons. Whatever she makes certainl always gives someone some sort of boon.

But its an insidious thing, and most often poison or messes with the drinkers head in some fashion.

She can make more conventional healing items though, but its not her priority.

Steel Tendrls:
Her skills with transmutation aren't qutie as developed as she'd like. She also is a bit of a wet noodle when it comes to physical combat ability. There was an obvious solution to this. Turn her extra appendages into weapons themselves. Turns the outer layer of their skin into sharp, rough steel.

Earth from Iron:
Pick up mounds of rocks and earth, transmute them into daggers, blades, or throwing swords and launch them with her telekenesis. Simple. Effective.

Equipment:

The only thing Haaselle carries with her is the ceremonial yellow robe she absconded with when she escaped. It seems mundane, but it has the effect of amplifying ones own psionic abilities...while conversly making one more susceptible to them as well. A double edged sword, as you would.

Brief Background:
Haaselle. At least, that is what she calls herself. Her actual name has been lost to her, as is her actual age. Why you ask?

Well have a seat.

Grab a drink.

And let me tell you a story.

Once upon a midnight dreary, was a girl all drenched and weary. She rapt upon neighboring doors, Yet all she was met with was the occupants snores.

A thought that she should not have ran away, for her parents were no doubt dismayed. Yet she could not return, for the path she could not discern.

But lo, upon the grey skies did a moon shine, a yellow hue that did seem divine. A symbol carved in yellow, and a mirthful voice it did bellow. Swept away was the girl, amidst laughter and a cacaphonous whirl.

Oh, was that less of a story and more of a song? Oh I suppsoe I could speak plainly. Fine you spoilsport.

Needless to say, Haaselle was taken from her home at an early age. An argument with her parents. Something she can't remember. A stage upon which she found herself before IT.

Madmen did things to her. For what she does not know. But the things they did left their mark. Changed her. Broke her. Fractured her. Her mind torn and rent in a baleful yellow light.

Then there was laugther. Joyous, mirthful laughter. A cherry red color did they become, all swallowed down, down in a fit of mania.

And thus was the girl freed, standing upon the precipice and a desire for companionship she set away from the place where she had been imprisoned. And thus, came to her stories. Tales of a man named Atreus and the Reavers.

A desire blossomed.

Perhaps, she too, could be part of some story. Thus the girl traveled, a long, long way and soon she found herself among allies and friends, these kind people taking in the clearly troubled and tormented soul in front of them.

Yet, she could still feel it. the nagging in the back of her mind. An urge to do every dark desire her heart wanted.

Sorry, I started to break into rhyme again didn't I? Hehe. But thus, is the end of it. How was it, hm? Didn't like it...?

Well, that's rather unfortunate. Makes me rather irritable, really. I worked really hard on it. Why don't you take another listen? I INSIST.

Anything else we should know about you:
Personality wise, Haassele is something of a mixed bag. Upon intial meeting she seems far too friendly. Easily able to chat away, speak, share stories and otherwise engage in social activities with no problem.

This however, is barely surface deep. A selfish, arrogant, and deeply troubled individual lies just under the surface no dobt due to her history. Violent impulses, manic tendencies. Its one of the main reasons she accepted the idea of working as a Reaver.

She can indulge herelf to her hearts desire in as much debauchery as she wants while hunting criminals like those who took her childhood and life away from her.

Haaselle also considers herself a bit of an artist. Music, sculpting, and playwriting are her most favorite hobbies. Her projects tend to be something of an...acquired taste, though.

Has a sigil of some sort seared into the flesh of her left buttock. She insists she has no idea what it means or how it even got there.