...Puberty is the only time you can make drastic changes to your physiology, seriously, you already know how so go do it and don't wait any longer. I mean X-men level of change *explains how*. Do it now. Also, don't go into the military, move somewhere else if you have to. They just want to use you. You will be changed in a way you don't want if you don't.
It depends regarding the roleplay's genre, music of an undecipherable language helps (like german in guilty crown's bios theme to scifi scene). I would say japanese music is good for this but personally, since it is one of my two native languages, it is not as effective on me.
Though instrumental music helps too.
There's also sleeping, because dreams get very vivid if the mind is fretting on something and the rest is undisturbed. I do not advocate drugs but burning/smouldering dried basil leaves before rest at night seems to increase the chances of dreaming, basil is not a drug anyway. But then again, I'm someone who thinks I can surf the web and wikipedia things in my dreams as long as I rest near an unprotected wifi. So my words may not be entirely sane.
My recounting experience was nothing so slapstick, nothing weird or pervy or cartoonily "epic" like that.
We were level 1, barely any gear and I lost my spellbook.
It was just a "So you come across the maze they mentioned, tales of monsters dwelt within but you have to cross it. The moss laden dirt ..." I stopped the host there, asked him to confirm the type of ground we were on. Confirming it was just peat earth. I turned to my friend who had tremorsense for her racial ability ...and proceeded to Mold Earth (a usually unpopular cantrip spell I have) our way subterranean.
The host had planned all this combat sequences that night which we just were like "Ciao, gtg, next quest pl0x, bai." Through the whole maze. ...In the end, we OOCily decided to play his maze adventure properly. To reward his effort.
Roleplay writing allows the writer to simulate different circumstances, this often leads to reading materials outside the boundary of the writer's everyday routine in pursuit of more accurate portrayal. Such as discovering the continental movements and depicting how a world might have changed realistically, then translating that into the roleplay while learning in real life.
Cloaked in radiation-protective gear from head to toe and a medium sword for self defense, with broad frame standing at an average height of about a little less than two meters, Briggs' masked mien leaves little to infer from his expressions (or lack thereof).
However like all Humans, the clothes he wears is also coded to identify many aspects of himself to other Humans. For example, the white pointy polyesterene hat sewn unto his helmet, is worn by someone with scholarly pursuits, as opposed to the feathered cap of a hunter or the ossified horns of a warrior. The torch he wields further reinforces the idea, as the plant quickly withers if not cared for by skilled hands.
Brightwisp Torch.
Gnarled roots of leafless Saberstem sapling exude a bactericidal chemical that accelerates the life cycle of the hardy, territorial Brightflies which colonize on them. The insects, in turn, pollinate the plant's spores. By exploiting this natural symbiosis, Humans have a living torch that lets them travel in the dark without risk of setting things ablaze. By topping it up with a nodule of nutritious nectar and mud every now and then, further adds to the chain of symbiosis and reliance.
His clothes, though now worn and torn, were once an indication of wealth that meant he came from a settlement where they could easily fabricate cloth - something traders (and refugees) might pay for directions to. Even the little red symbol on his sleeves, bearing a handprint with a leaf at it's center, signals his field as a naturalist and Biothurge which other Humans may hire and consult him in troubles related to his area of expertise.
Biothurgy.
While Biothurgical runecrafting is capable of mending small wounds and ridding malaise in the span of a long breath, Briggs prefers to let wounds heal through the more conventional methods of microbicidal herbs, nutrition and good rest. There is much less scarring and a better chance for the body to strengthen itself against illness this way. Plus, it hurts less. WAY LESS.
There's also a risk that some patients get addicted to the magic, eventually turning undead should they not curb their habits.
Rubbing radioactive salts in a precise manner, coupled with low-frequency soundwaves that activate the matrix (incantation), stimulates spontaneous cell division and role assignment around the wounded aRea.
It is such ingenuity in communication and other areas (from the viewpoint of a non-human) that has helped Mankind survive thus far. Being able to convey ideas without sparing the labored breath of a breather.
Breathing apparatus.
Particulate gas mask. Like and part of the armour most humans of Humanity wear, they are replicated from relics of the country called Hazmat from the first age.
Too bad there's no one else out here to communicate with.
Briggs muses, sighing heavily as he leers from his leafy camoflauge to stalk an overgrown tortoise grazing away blissfully. For a moment he was certain that he heard the reptile laugh ...though ....maybe he was just going crazy sooner than he thought.
Oh well.
Background
The child no one wanted. The son no one spoke of.
Humans were a flimsy lot. No scales to shield them from the harsh weather, no wings to help them cross faraway lands. Their skin was bare and naked, uncoloured, cooking at the slightest touch of the sun into a variety of reds and browns. The only thing going for them were their penchance to overthink things. Nature's consolation prize at best...
In a harsh land, there were once some who tried to make up for these weaknesses with a forbidden art. Like baking, they tried to change the ingredients that made up Man. Human Transmutation, it was called. Most were thought to have yielded no results, others were too traumatic to even consider attempting. So after a decade or so of trials, Humans resigned to their fate, ekking out a living with their tools and walls of stone at the outskirts of the wilderness.
But the labors of his ancestors did not go to waste.
In the colony of pure-blooded humans, were suddenly born a generation of peculiar children. A sickly girl with ears like white feathery wings, adored for her angelic appearance. An energetic boy with a prehensile tail. Twins who never left the water tub they were born in.
Briggs was such a child.
He was kept in a library, almost mute, for most of his childhood. Till his vocal cords developed in his teenage years and he could finally speak the words he had long known. Books were a big part of his life, a life he felt content with, for what he could not see beyond the little glass window - he could wander through their written pages. As a curiousity his family then dressed him up, and with the help of a big floppy hat, let him attend school like any other student. Illegal things, afterall, were ever so exciting for the nobles and few things were as illegal as giving a halfbeast a proper education under the very nose of the government which forbade it.
...That was many years ago. Briggs has long outstayed his welcome among Humans and his family since then, since a series of misfortunate events. Having to brave the wilds on his own now, he has only his wit and opposable thumbs against all the nasty things out here. Yet he still clings to the naive altruism that stems from one too many evenings with heroic/romance novels, believing that there will be one day where 'monsters' and Humans will be able to live together in peace. So while trying not to get ferried off by some petrodactyl, rot from overexposure to radiation or you know, starve, he studies the strange and wonderful flora-fauna that thrives out here. Seeing his exile as a silver-lining chance to explore the world outside their lead walls, looking for that big discovery which will be his ticket back home.
His ticket back to Humanity.
Relationships
(Hostile)The government of the town of Humanity - Exiled. Bounty rewarded for capture.
(Neutral)Shroomfolk - Managed to barely communicate through notes left by other explorer, seems friendly if not a little sedated. Can be used as a seizure-inducing lightsource once lured into a one sided conversation about rotting logs.
(Friendly/Neutral)Humans from other colonies - Mankind might be inclined to treat each other kindly, given the rarity of their species as a whole. ...Maybe??? Yet to confirm.
Btw: Some information may seem slightly dissonant from the OOC, that is done on purpose because this character is not all-knowing and they represent his beliefs on how things work. It's all written very technically too, because he's a very technical kind of Human.
You know what? You know WHAT?? I just got inspiration from looking at the other two weirdo* characters and might make a character relevant around something of theirs. :>. @World of Terra@A Lowly Wretch@Tenslashsix
I see. Tnks for replying to me still, but I think I'll give this one a second look in the future - none of the provinces called out to me as intruiging as a place where reeds give honey and trees grow wool. Bid you all have a jolly time!
