SrslyAnArtist

Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk.II

@Kho
So I take it I can start creating a cs?

Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk.II

@IrishAngelQueen, hello. We had a life goddess (Slough), although her player retired so there is definitely a vacancy in that position (although canonically Slough isn't dead, partly because that might screw over life across the entire universe).

You will need to find some new parents, though. The old gods are dead. Some have reincarnated, but most are gone. We had a death god, but he's now dead himself. And we've already pulled one demigod from his corpse, so it might be a stretch to pull another one out. However, since Slough is still alive, we can consider using her.

An interesting dichotomy to your life demigod is an up-and-coming (unless the player dropped off the face of the internet) demigod of rot, Pelegath. @Jarl Coolgruuf. I don't remember what plans he had for Pelegath's parents, but possibly you can have them linked.

@BBeast

I'm up with using Slough and Pelegath. could we create Athanasios (that's what i'm going to call him), from her body? That would be cool, would it not? Or maybe she creates him. that'd be awesome.

Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk.II

@Kho
I was thinking of a demigod of life sort of thing. One who presides over plants and animals, and can change shape into an animal. You know, even when other gods create animals and/or he still looks after them because that's his thing, you know, to watch over and create life. kind of like a guardian. You remember my old character, Roxan? I was thinking he could be her son, but instead of having some sort of domain over death, he came to be the opposite of her, basically, and that he's the only one who had been able to touch her poisoned skin without dying or suffering extreme agony.

Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk.II

any openings for any new demigods? got an idea that's been brewing in my head for awhile.

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

@Jbcool
And here he is. Fair warning to those of you who mentioned elves earlier, his race is based on the nordic version of light elves. What can I say? *shrug* I like to use mythology for inspiration.

Amaranth Loe'Kyn

Amaranth comes from a race of people where skin pigmentation widely varies, not just relegated to the usual variations of brown white and cream, but also such colors as reds, blues, green, and purples. Even silver or metallic pigmentation. Eye colors are much the same as skin. Amaranth himself, however, has an appearance that is closer to human, but his mismatched gold and violet eyes, pointed canines and slightly pointed ears give him away. As well as his incredible height of six feet, eight inches. His long, straight black hair has nine braids on his dominant right side, while the left has six and it accentuates high cheekbones, strong jawline and slightly crooked nose, and has the same violet tint that his tawny skin does, and his lean frame boasts of broad shoulders, slim hips and sleek muscle. His pupils expand and contract like those of a cat, allowing him to see with very little light.

Amaranth's home planet, Ga'iya, is similar to Earth, but is in much much better shape due to it's inhabitants having a great respect for the flora and fauna, and having a deep connection as well. The connection is so deep that it's genetic, allowing many Ga'iyan's the ability to shapechange into animals native there, or to take on the qualities of stone or bark or some other such thing. Their main, humanoid shapes usually have at least two characteristics of their secondary shapes, like slit pupils, pointed ears, long canine teeth, and sometimes even a tail or gills. Only a few have ever been recorded as having wings in their main shape before. Amaranth's secondary shape is what his people call a Shadowpelt-a huge black cat that's eight feet long and six feet tall. it resembles the Earthen Panther, but unlike that cat, it does not have any of the darker spots. Only a tint to it's fur that matches whatever tint is in the main shape's hair. It's roughly 1200 pounds.

Many of his people are a nomadic, often wandering around Ga'iya, but many who do not like to wander as much as their brothers and sisters keep up the cities and imports, and they have strict rules regarding how one uses what the plants and animals provide. The punishment for breaking one of those rules or many is often harsh, and teaches respect for their home, if not an understanding of what it means to take care of the flora and fauna. Even those who are not nomadic live in tribes or groups, and they have a sort of police force called the Whards, who act much like Rangers do, protecting the forests, animals and natural resources, and bringing any rule breakers to the towns for justice.

Not only do they practice forestry, the have public amphitheaters where they teach fine arts, medicine, mathematics, sciences, weaponry, hand to hand combat and foreign languages. There are many different dialects of the main language of Ga'iya, and Amaranth was always quick at picking them up, often translating for visitors. His mother, seeing his natural talent, sent him to the amphitheaters to learn the different languages of the Empire, though they themselves are not part of it. There, he has learned ten different languages as well as weaponry and combat, both of which he excels at.

The technology on Ga'iya is one of the top kinds, but they don't have cities made of it, preferring to use it to carve homes out of trees, mountains and hardened earth. They use them for weapons and educational tools, especially in the medical realms, and none of them use fire or artificial chemicals, instead using many of the deadly toxins that can be found around almost every corner, which is why they advise visitors not to eat something that they have found unless a guide or host says it is okay to eat. Many a visitor has been found in the paved stone streets, dead, foaming at the mouth, unnaturally blue skinned or having their limbs twisted at impossible angles, all results of eating one of the toxic plants.

Ga'iyans have many traditions such as the belief that all good things come in multiples of three, and many Ga'iyans distinguish their main profession by how many small braids they put into their hair on their dominant side. One braid is a student of the amphitheater, two braids indicate one of the fine arts, which is then distinguished by how many smaller braids that the two main ones divide into, three is a medical professional, four is a scientist, five is a teacher, six is a warrior, seven is a weapons master, eight is a Whard, and nine is a linguist. on their non dominant side, they put their second profession.

Seeing that there was not many things he could do linguistically at home, he left to see what he could do. Not wanting to get stuck in the contracts that so often screw the employee, he sent word out to the mercenary circles that he was a willing fighter and translator looking for work. He also let them know that he was a Ga'iyan capable of turning into a huge cat that could bite someone's head off with little to no effort.

He has heightened senses, agility flexibility and strength, his healing is 3x faster than that of a human, but healing still takes time, and his shadowpelt form has lethally sharp claws and teeth. However, extreme smells, sounds and light can make him feel ill, and his shadowpelt is as prone to injury as his human shape.

Shadowpelt

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

"Don't worry about it," Rogue replied. "Like hell you'll be too heavy. Do you not see how broad my back is? I once carried a man more than twice your weight. Granted it was without permission and he didn't stay on for as long as he planned, but still."

When Orion pulled the arrow free without warning, he couldn't help the squeal of pain that escaped his throat. He could already feel the wound knitting closed. In a few seconds or so, it would be healed enough for him to use his wing again and possibly escape.

"Are you an addict, brother?" Rogue demanded, stomping a massive, blood crusted hoof. The blood being that of the unlucky fellow who'd shot him. "There is no way she'll leave us alone. Judging by her words, especially not you. Now get on would you? I think you're being incredibly stupid, by the way. She's gonna end up shooting you."

The shapeshifter snorted in derision as he looked up at the woman, assessing. She had to be some sort of Grade A badass if she was by herself. Already he instinctively disliked her, and she'd not yet tried to do anything to him. But then again, his instincts were rarely wrong.

Now if the stubborn metal male would just hop onto his back already. Rogue might be a mercenary, but he wasn't about to let someone who he now considered an ally to be taken away without his helping. Seriously, any other person would have let him die from that arrow wound, whether because his pegasus shape was truly terrifying to most-especially the fangs on the top and bottom jaw-or because he'd earned the nickname of Daemon in most ash towns, they would be too cruel or wary to get close enough to help him.

---

@ScoundrelQueen

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

Rogue almost jinked when he saw the tall, dark skinned man around the corner, ears, flattening against his skull once more, but quickly brought his ears forward as he kept his voice low, calling, "hey, hey," to him. Why was he glancing around? Oh, wait. Did he think that he had a rider? Certainly not! Well, he'd let a few people ride him before, but that had only been maybe twice and only because he'd trusted them. He was certainly strong enough for it.

The man held out one hand with the palm up, an invitation for Rogue to smell him. Never one to pass up the opportunity to gain any knowledge of possible enemies or foes, he accepted the invitation. The man smelled of woman and metal, sweat, and dust. And something else he couldn't identify, but it reminded him of fur, like the short fur of a bat. He raised his head to look at him with expressive red eyes, one ear swiveling back and forth to take in all the sounds around him, the other one standing still so he could catch the man's words.

"Woah, boy. Woah. Where’s your person, boy?” the man asked, and by his facial expression, he wasn't really expecting a response. If horses could grin, Rogue would have. He shook his mane out in amusement instead.

I could have fun with that little fact, he decided. I wonder if that recessive gene my grandfather passed down to me is strong enough? It's a very small talent which i can't use unless I'm in physical contact with someone, or a telepath is nearby. And certainly if i use it for too long, I get a nosebleed which is damned inconvenient. Screw it, let's do this, Rogue.

He once again placed his muzzle in the man's hand.

"I don't have a rider, brother," he said, using the respectful term for one close in age to oneself. "I'm a shapechanger, thank you. Could you get this arrow out, please? I can't heal until it's out and I certainly can't change shape until I'm healed."

He extended said wing out as far as possible and hung his head, breaking physical contact. His entire body language screamed out the toll the pain was taking on him. Then from seemingly nowhere a woman's amplified voice said, "Orion Lazos! You are wanted by the Kingdom of Erubesco for the crime of treason! Surrender yourself to arrest now and will remain unharmed! If you proceed to resist arrest, I, a Knight of Erubesco, am fully authorised to use any degree of force necessary to ensure that you face justice! You have five seconds to get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head!"

Acting on instinct, Rogue immediately placed his large body between the man-Orion as he now knew him to be called-and the woman, baring all of his teeth, his large, predator-like canines glinting in the light. He did not know or care for the politics of the two factions, and this woman was going to possibly take away the only chance Rogue had of changing back to his human form once the arrow in his wing was out.

Uh, fuck that.

Rogue touched Orion with his right wing and said, "Get on, and I'll run. Pull the arrow out while I do so if you can, and hold on tight."

'Misthophoroi' - A Sci-Fi Mercenary RP

@Tsar Gatto@POOHEAD189

Looking good, guys! Still a wee bit confused as to how Virgil is a 'quartermaster' - not sure from his background how he'd be able to work out the supplies and logistics for a merc company. That's my only gripe, and it's a minor one really.

@Canoli@Jeyma If you two are still about and willing, then I'd accept sheets from you.

@IrishAngelQueen I assume you mean a linguistically occurring mutant (although 'mutant' would be odd in this setting...perhaps 'alien'?) If not then it's fine, and I'd be happy to take a look at the sheet.

@Jbcool

I think I could create an alien race to fit my idea for my character.

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

Rogue was in his pegasus shape when the first arrow flew. He ducked that one but wasn't quite as lucky on the second one. He gave a shrill scream in pain, rearing as the arrow embedded itself near the topside base of his left wing.

Where is that little vermin? Ah, there he is, hiding behind that crate. The enraged, 2000 pound male stallion brought his front hooves down and charged him. The male squeaked and tried to run, but he was no match for the clydesdale sized pegasus. A sickening crunch, a scream of pain that almost matched Rogue's in pitch, and the man had two pulverized legs as a reward for his efforts.

Snorting as he looked at the now sobbing man in disgust, Rogue shook his mane out and walked off, ears flat against his skull, warning nearby people not to mess with him. Damn that stupid male! Now he was stuck in this shape until his wing healed. Eyeing the offending arrow still stuck his wing, he snorted in frustration and pain.

"Great, just great," Rogue muttered inside his head. "Stuck in this shape, with almost no way to talk to anyone unless they're a damned telepath." He stopped to try and pull the arrow out with his teeth, grumbling mentally as he did so. But it was to no avail.

And why had the foolish male tried to kill him anyway? He might be one of the best Mercs out there, but there wasn't a bounty on his head as far as he knew. He sighed through his nose and looked around. He was just outside the town where he'd come to get more water, and there was maybe fifteen people in the same general area, but with any luck, they'd spread the word that the pegasus with red eyes could still gravely injure you if you pissed him off, despite the arrow in one of his wings. He folded his good wing tightly against his body, and bent the other one as best as he could without damaging it further.

"How am I supposed to get water now, stuck like this?" his already dark mood blackened further and he stomped his hoof in irritation. "And never mind food. I have nothing to trade for either thing in this shape, unless someone wants some of my loose feathers."

Dead Roleplay, Ignore

Removed