SilverPaw

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

@TheNoCoKid Everyone likes dragons, heh. Also...now I have to make her fall over at least once :p

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Daddy issues

Sakai Kyouka

“Don’t decide for me what I can or can’t be. Oh, it’s supposed to be ‘for my own good’? To hell with that.”

Age: 24

Appearance: With her riotous wheat-blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and a tempestuous disposition to go with it, Kyouka has been proclaimed as a striking beauty as long as she can remember. Viewed as something foreign – nay, as otherworldy.

Job: Hostess

Cause of Death: An accident. She was a bit too drunk, managed to stumble her way off an overhead walkway, and cracked her head. She was discovered too late, already dead.

Background:

From as early as Kyouka can remember, her family environment had this permeating, suffocating air about it. Her Father, her Father’s Work – this was at the centre of everything.

‘This is important, Kyouka. You must understand. Father has Work.’

‘I have to concentrate – not now, Kyouka.’

‘If you ever find your passion, you will understand…It’s everything.’

She was their first child, yet she barely ever had his attention. Her mother tried, but she had little impact.

And in her earlier years, she bought into it. She idolized him, imitated him. So did Ayato, her younger brother. They had to work hard for every scrap of love, every ounce of attention he bestowed upon them. It wasn’t actively malicious, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Their father was simply so wrapped up in his own world, that his own children came secondary – unless they made themselves a key part of that world.

Through strife and hardship they persevered, all while hidden resentment rooted in their hearts.

In the end, his criticisms and his questioning proved too much.

‘Are you even trying? Are you serious about this? Are you giving it your all?’

Ayumu was the first to give up.

As for Kyouka?

It was the constant comparisons to strangers. Her advancement was proclaimed as slow, her talent as middling. In the end, it was this sort of sentiment of, ‘Be realistic, Kyouka. You can’t hope to make it the way you’ve been going.’

Maybe she could have.

But did she want to?

Truly?

No.

What point was there? All victories felt hollow. All defeats carried with it the miserable feeling of, ‘Oh, this again…?’

So, no. After losing his support, she didn’t cling to that life.

Kyouka decided to do whatever she wanted from then on. Though, figuring out what that was was the tricky part. She’s not sure she ever managed to, to be honest. But she spent most of her time out. Playing around. Having mundane fun. All while fury rent her insides with its unrelenting claws. She couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done to them. To his own family. He gave up on them, just like that. Had he ever believed in them at all?

No matter.

She graduated high school, picked up various part-time jobs, and moved out as soon as she could.

Father periodically sent her money. He was worried enough to do that much.

Eventually, Kyouka settled into a career as a hostess. Her family didn’t approve, of course. As if she cared what they thought. The club she worked at was a good place.

Sometimes, she played for them. Ha. What was that about not becoming a professional pianist? It was rare that she did, but it got her some extra cash. A win in her book, even if that unresolved hatred was accentuated with each key press.

That was where she met him. An older married man in his early forties, his wife on her death-bed. He told her the way she played reminded him of a raging storm. He told her that she was a fighter. That he respected her for it.

She was hooked. Utterly and completely.

They had an odd sort of relationship, the kind no one was likely to understand. Kyouka thought she might love him.

It was at this time, when everything was still muddled in confusion and unrest, that the stupid accident befell her.

---

---

Kyouka

“You know, I've had all sorts of things said about me, but I don't think 'snake woman' ever ranked that high.”

Race: Primal Lamia

Deity: Drasil

Weapons/Tools: In her life as a human, it has been her wits, her allure, her social skills, and her sharp tongue. The sheer force of her personality has been a constant, for good or ill. She will certainly still rely on those, but more direct powers and practical tools would help too.

Likes:

• Confidence. She is a prideful woman, and respects those who, like her, have a healthy amount of self-assurance.
• Getting what she wants.
• She has a love/hate relationship with the piano.

Dislikes:

• Pity and/or patronization.
• Being put into a box, reduced to a set of mere superficial categories.
• Having another limit her, deny her, or take away something from her unjustly.

Quirks:

• When out and about, she stands tall and proud, looking down on the world which dares judge her, no matter that she judges it herself.
• She can be rather caustic and has a mercurial temperament. When she wants to, she can be awfully charming, however.
• Kyouka enjoys attending events, likes good food and drinks (especially when she is treated to it for free), going to karaoke with friends, getting her nails done and gossiping, and spoiling herself at spas and such. Surprisingly, she fancies taking the occasional long walk when the mood strikes her.
• When comfortable, she may lounge around like a cat.

Skills: Leave this page blank at the start. These will be the initial skills acquired as part of your reincarnation and will be based on your character's last wishes/regrets. Will be determined between you and the GM after the RP has begun!

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Dalton: *opens his eyes, looks into a river, clutches his face* "NOOOOO, anything but a FURRY!" *hiccups and "UwUs" on reflex* "AAAAHHHHH!"

@Zeroth

My noodle, complaining: "At least you have legs!"

Annoyed muttering: "Ugh! So inconvenient. Taking away one of my best assests, making me crawl?! I'll strangle you when I find you, 'God'!"

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

I just happened to be checking through to see who's made final decisions on which deity they were picked up by, and happened to notice Dalton's current predicament.

*He grabs Drasil by the collar and shakes him, while pointing at Minami, Sakai, and Samantha with one trembling, sweaty hand*

Dalton: "I don't WANNA be a HAREM PROTAGONIST! I can't handle interpersonal conflicts!" *drops Drasil and backs away from the girls with crazy eyes* "I'm too introverted to live with multiple roommates! DON'T MAKE ME SHARE MY BATHROOM!"

@Zeroth

Hah, don't worry...dilfs need apply only XD

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

So many similiarites, but such a world apart... PErhaps in another life, they could've been friends...

Well, probably not. Kyou-chan was pretty and had talents and was an extrovert, after all. xD

@Xaltwind

Oh, yeah, when I read that app, I was like, 'huh, pretty similar beginnings!' But, hey, isekai is like the most out-of-there experience, so since it's a literal another life...Who knows? XD (Though it does seem like Kyouka might sooner befriend Minami's mother based on shared activities haha)

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

@SilverPaw

I love this character and I think it'd be cool if Kyouka and Ryoko went to the same school and Ryoko, her sickeningly talented kohai, was one of the girls Kyouka was frequently compared to. It'd make a possible reuinion very fun.

Teenage Ryoko

@Silver Carrot

Why, thank you. Ryoko's field is something else entirely (tech vs music), but yeah, that sounds good, since Ryoko was also stellar in gen ed too. Just if that's the case, Kyouka definitely would have done all in her power to pick on Ryoko (with a group of cronies, but ofc). :P

Children of the Otherworld - An Isekai Story

Daddy issues

Real World

Sakai Kyouka

“Don’t decide for me what I can or can’t be. Oh, it’s supposed to be ‘for my own good’? To hell with that.”

Age: 24

Appearance: With her riotous wheat-blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and a tempestuous disposition to go with it, Kyouka has been proclaimed as a striking beauty as long as she can remember. Viewed as something foreign – nay, as otherworldy.

Job: Hostess

Cause of Death: An accident. She was a bit too drunk, managed to stumble her way off an overhead walkway, and cracked her head. She was discovered too late, already dead.

Background:

From as early as Kyouka can remember, her family environment had this permeating, suffocating air about it. Her Father, her Father’s Work – this was at the centre of everything.

‘This is important, Kyouka. You must understand. Father has Work.’

‘I have to concentrate – not now, Kyouka.’

‘If you ever find your passion, you will understand…It’s everything.’

She was their first child, yet she barely ever had his attention. Her mother tried, but she had little impact.

And in her earlier years, she bought into it. She idolized him, imitated him. So did Ayato, her younger brother. They had to work hard for every scrap of love, every ounce of attention he bestowed upon them. It wasn’t actively malicious, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Their father was simply so wrapped up in his own world, that his own children came secondary – unless they made themselves a key part of that world.

Through strife and hardship they persevered, all while hidden resentment rooted in their hearts.

In the end, his criticisms and his questioning proved too much.

‘Are you even trying? Are you serious about this? Are you giving it your all?’

Ayumu was the first to give up.

As for Kyouka?

It was the constant comparisons to strangers. Her advancement was proclaimed as slow, her talent as middling. In the end, it was this sort of sentiment of, ‘Be realistic, Kyouka. You can’t hope to make it the way you’ve been going.’

Maybe she could have.

But did she want to?

Truly?

No.

What point was there? All victories felt hollow. All defeats carried with it the miserable feeling of, ‘Oh, this again…?’

So, no. After losing his support, she didn’t cling to that life.

Kyouka decided to do whatever she wanted from then on. Though, figuring out what that was was the tricky part. She’s not sure she ever managed to, to be honest. But she spent most of her time out. Playing around. Having mundane fun. All while fury rent her insides with its unrelenting claws. She couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done to them. To his own family. He gave up on them, just like that. Had he ever believed in them at all?

No matter.

She graduated high school, picked up various part-time jobs, and moved out as soon as she could.

Father periodically sent her money. He was worried enough to do that much.

Eventually, Kyouka settled into a career as a hostess. Her family didn’t approve, of course. As if she cared what they thought. The club she worked at was a good place.

Sometimes, she played for them. Ha. What was that about not becoming a professional pianist? It was rare that she did, but it got her some extra cash. A win in her book, even if that unresolved hatred was accentuated with each key press.

That was where she met him. An older married man in his early forties, his wife on her death-bed. He told her the way she played reminded him of a raging storm. He told her that she was a fighter. That he respected her for it.

She was hooked. Utterly and completely.

They had an odd sort of relationship, the kind no one was likely to understand. Kyouka thought she might love him.

It was at this time, where everything was still muddled in confusion and unrest, that the stupid accident befell her.

Vecta Form

Appearance: TBA

Race: TBA

Deity: Drasil.

Weapons/Tools: In her life as a human, it has been her wits, her allure, her social skills, and her sharp tongue. The sheer force of her personality has been a constant, for good or ill. She will certainly still rely on those, but more direct powers and practical tools would help too.

Likes:

• Confidence. She is a prideful woman, and respects those who, like her, have a healthy amount of self-assurance.
• Getting what she wants.
• She has a love/hate relationship with the piano.

Dislikes:

• Pity and/or patronization.
• Being put into a box, reduced to a set of mere superficial categories.
• Having another limit her, deny her, or take away something from her unjustly.

Quirks:

• When out and about, she stands tall and proud, looking down on the world which dares judge her, no matter that she judges it herself.
• She can be rather caustic and has a mercurial temperament. When she wants to, she can be awfully charming, however.
• Kyouka enjoys attending events, likes good food and drinks (especially when she is treated to it for free), going to karaoke with friends, getting her nails done and gossiping, and spoiling herself at spas and such. Surprisingly, she fancies taking the occasional long walk when the mood strikes her.
• When comfortable, she may lounge around like a cat.

Skills: Leave this page blank at the start. These will be the initial skills acquired as part of your reincarnation and will be based on your character's last wishes/regrets. Will be determined between you and the GM after the RP has begun!

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Outfit Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Late Morning Location: The Castle Gardens -> The Castle (interior) Mention(s): Interaction(s): @Tpartywithzombi Violet

At Violet's joke that he had caught her on a bad day, Wulfric’s lips quirked into a smile. “I suppose I did, at that,” he agreed, gentle amusement colouring his tone. “Perhaps on a better day, we can revisit the banter,” he suggested.

“Understandable,” he pitched in to her apology.

Not without its costs, he mused silently. Was it only because he’d recently learned about magic that the word costs reminded him of it? Though he’d ignored the strangeness of it as he conversed with Violet, when he’d first seen her, he had been struck by a terribly eerie possibility. Her changed appearance, demeanour, even her memories…He certainly noticed her mounting anger, her suddenly menacing tone, and the spike in bloodlust.

He could read the implication.

So, she wanted revenge. Like father, like daughter. If she did act on her own, as Calbert already had, that would be problematic. Hate and irrationality led to complications, and any resulting messes would be his to clear – as per the usual.

Then again, Violet had nothing to go off of at the moment. For now, whatever her intentions and desires, he didn’t expect her actions to be troublesome. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be proven wrong.

“Indeed, rest is paramount, especially after an injury.” It was still surprising to him she had managed as much as she had. By all rights, she should be bedbound at best. “I will attend the masquerade,” he affirmed. “Take care, Lady Violet. Until this evening.” He said his goodbye, and accompanied her to the carriage while her servant arranged what was needed for her departure.

Then, he made his rounds, and took the time to greet any nobles he had not yet, exchanging a few words with most guests.

His siblings were faring well from what he could see, though each was in the company of somewhat questionable individuals. He assured they would be watched by trusted guards, which he deemed a sufficient precaution.

He collected his weapons from the entry check point, and took an early leave from the Tea Party. The event was at its tail end, and he did not wish to engage anyone else in a longer conversation.

Avalia

Time: Morning Location: Port Vanarosa Mention(s): Tanithil @Lava Alckon, Ismael @Th3King0fChaos, Amisra @Tae Interaction(s): Fairy thug @princess Equipment Two short swords, two (concealed) daggers, two pistols, 445 amas.

Arlen's pupils widened with the adrenaline, a combative eagerness colouring his expression as he realized he’d badly wounded the fairy. However, the desire to finish his enemy off quickly made him impatient; too fast, and reckless.

Meanwhile, the blonde’s determination focused his frenzied energy. The fairy struck swiftly; once, twice. The first strike, Arlen blocked, if only partially; it earned him a gash on his upper arm. His right drooped due to the sudden sharp pain, and the fairy took advantage, quickly slicing at his wrist and making him drop one dagger.

He still had the other dagger however, and even though his opponent was now aiming for his neck, Arlen was faster. He utilized his injured right arm to smack the blonde in his injured stomach. The fairly let out a sharp cry, and in that second, Arlen brought his left dagger up into a horizontal slash right across the blonde’s neck. The fairy’s grimace of pain transformed into surprise – then remained frozen that way forever as his life was taken away from him.

Neck sliced, blood gushing out, the fairy’s body dropped to the ground, head mercifully not fully detached. Arlen breathed harshly, chest heaving up and down, snarl stretching his lips. It took him a moment to calm down. Then, he sheathed his dagger, crouched down to grab the one which had fallen, and stashed that one too.

While he was resting on his knee, he turned to the dead fairy. Though he was yet inflamed from the encounter, and the injuries he had been dealt, Arlen offered the unknown man the respect to close his lids. “If ya wasn’t such a fuckin’ idiot we could’a had other kinds of fun…” he ground out in a low, angry growl.

Exhaling sharply, he stood up, and went to the edge of the roof to check how his allies were doing. If they needed help, he could still lend them aid by shooting at any of the remaining opponents.

TLDR

Rushes the fairy, suffers one gash across the upper right arm and a slice across his wrist due to it. Flails his injured right to smack the fairy in the injured stomach. This startles the fairy, Arlen then slices across his neck. Has some parting words to the dead man, then edges across the roof to go check on his allies; ready to shoot if they need help.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

	Attire: Outfit Date and Time: Sola 23rd, Late Morning Location: The Castle Gardens: Tea Party Mention(s): @Helo Callum, @FunnyGuy Alexander Interaction(s): @Tpartywithzombi Violet

Wulfric rose a brow at Violet’s outburst, but was unaffected by her acridness. “Surely, your parents would prefer that you recuperate at home for the time being?” he queried, surprised. He sincerely doubted she had been made to attend this very event, and assumed she was generalizing.

As she went on to explain her current predicament in detail, his eyebrows climbed up slowly until they reached their summit. “I see…” he said. He smoothed out his expression and reassessed their conversation. If she genuinely remembered nothing, then her secretiveness was largely caused by her amnesia. While she had been capable of recognizing him, it did not seem that she could recall anything about her attack. Unfortunately.

He blinked when she accused him of laughing at her. When had he done that? His eyebrow twitched in annoyance, insulted that she presumed he was willfully mocking her. Was he supposed to walk on eggshells around her then, even as she wielded her caustic tongue as both a shield and a weapon?

However, a part of him knew the irritation was unwarranted. So, Wulfric took a deep breath, and reigned back the offense. It was true he had been pushing her with the questioning, all while she was a survivor of a harrowing attack. Even though it got him exactly what he wanted – information – that had been indelicate of him, and was deserving of an apology.

“It was not my intention to deride you nor the situation you find yourself in. I apologize for having distressed you,” he said earnestly. “As you say, I was focused on the investigation – so much so that I neglected your needs and concerns. For that, I am truly, deeply sorry,” he restated.

Since she had been relatively sincere with him, he decided to be frank in return. “I spoke with you because I believed you possessed some hint as to your attack, perhaps something that seemed innocuous to you, or perhaps which frightened you.” He paused for a moment, just in case she could or would pitch in with additional information.

“I assumed your memories were intact, and, well, since you were holding up rather well given the circumstances, I thought we were both enjoying a subtle exchange of clever, barbed comments…” He did not know how else to explain his dark sense of humour, but he supposed Violet wasn’t in want of excuses. “Clearly, I was mistaken. I hope you will be able to forgive me. Either way, I shall be more mindful in the future.”

Their conversation was interrupted by another person loudly announcing something. This tea party was turning into quite the forum, wasn’t it?

Wulfric’s impassive gaze moved over to a certain Alexander Deacon. So, Black Rose had had an agent of theirs infiltrate even here. A man ranking high enough within their organization that he could speak on its behalf. A man to be watched. Wulfric hadn’t been expecting one of Delronzo’s men to be here, but it surprised him none that Deacon took advantage of this situation. It was a good move, useful to his company in several ways.

Of course, Callum didn’t notice how easily he was letting himself be taken advantage of. He was apparently downright giddy to be consorting with Alexander’s ilk. After the younger prince’s brilliant opening move, he was exhibiting a woeful lack of cunning. One of Marek’s men said some pretty words, and because it wasn’t coming from Edin, his brother could easily believe all of it. How tragically naïve.

Keeping the sigh to himself, his expression giving away none of his thoughts, he turned back to Violet. Her request was heartfelt, and he did not mind indulging it. He couldn't guarantee that she would find out before her parents did, but he could do her the courtesy of letting her know before the general public learned of it.

“When I discover who attacked you, I will ensure you are among the first I tell. In fact – I am unsure if you are aware of this, but there is one suspect we had a bounty put on. Your father is certain it was some commoner woman who caused you harm, but the evidence is lacking. Besides, whoever injured you must hold a deep grudge either against you or against your father, and I do not see why a random peasant would have such a strong motive,” he confided. Wulfric was curious if her parents had told her anything at all, so he hoped his words would prompt a useful response.

He nodded at her assertion. “I believe you,” he replied easily. Truthfully, he suspected she was keeping some cards to herself, but that was to be expected. “If you happen to find out something on your own, or if your memories return to you, do recall I am available. Also, it may be wise for you to make your parents’ business yours,” he suggested. The prince would certainly be speaking to them, but as overprotective as the Damiens were of their children, Violet was possibly in a better position to learn what they knew.