The scaled giants continued to pummel the alien girl, unconcerned with Kon-El's threats. His expression twisted with irritation and his eyes grew hotter, the crimson in them deepening as he cast his gaze over the scene before him. The reptiles were tearing through the streets to get at the girl. Though she was handling herself well, it would only be a matter of time before they overwhelmed her; and though he didn't trust her, Conner couldn't bring himself to just sit by and watch.
A pair of beams exploded out of Superboy's eyes and tore across the air until they slammed into the chest of a Gordanian warrior that was aiming his weapon at the alien girl's back. Kon squeezed his eyes shut, the heat still punching into his eyelids for several, painful seconds as he struggled to shut the energy off.
"I don't like being ignored." He snarled, rubbing the back of his hand until his eyes were cool enough to open.
Just in time for the invaders to return fire.
The solar suit was shredded by the blast, cutting a hole straight through it until it exploded across Conner's shoulder. A deep, arctic sort of cold spread across his flesh, turning it a bright pink and sending pain spiraling down Superboy's arm. He let out a howl and stumbled backward, his blood boiling with rage. Pain was a...new sensation. This pain, especially. It wasn't like the light numbness he'd felt during training. It was deeper. Like a series of ugly, sharp tendrils spiraling through his insides. Like many things, it made him angry.
Very angry.
Another primal howl was loosed from his lungs, and Superboy leaped across the street toward the monstrous things that had caused all of this. He cocked his arm back, locking it in place until just the right moment presented itself to let it loose. And when that moment came he loosed it like a cannon, his knuckles cracking against one of the alien's scaled, ugly faces. A sickening pop followed as the scales themselves buckled, and something warm and hot splashed up along Conner's hand; a good feeling, he decided, and one he was intent on experiencing many times in the next few minutes.
The scaled giants continued to pummel the alien girl, unconcerned with Kon-El's threats. His expression twisted with irritation and his eyes grew hotter, the crimson in them deepening as he cast his gaze over the scene before him. The reptiles were tearing through the streets to get at the girl. Though she was handling herself well, it would only be a matter of time before they overwhelmed her; and though he didn't trust her, Conner couldn't bring himself to just sit by and watch.
A pair of beams exploded out of Superboy's eyes and tore across the air until they slammed into the chest of a Goardanian warrior that was aiming his weapon at the alien girl's back. Kon squeezed his eyes shut, the heat still punching into his eyelids for several, painful seconds as he struggled to shut the energy off.
"I don't like being ignored." He snarled, rubbing the back of his hand until his eyes were cool enough to open.
Just in time for the invaders to return fire.
The solar suit was shredded by the blast, cutting a hole straight through it until it exploded across Conner's shoulder. A deep, arctic sort of cold spread across his flesh, turning it a bright pink and sending pain spiraling down Superboy's arm. He let out a howl and stumbled backward, his blood boiling with rage. Pain was a...new sensation. This pain, especially. It wasn't like the light numbness he'd felt during training. It was deeper. Like a series of ugly, sharp tendrils spiraling through his insides. Like many things, it made him angry.
Very angry.
Another primal howl was loosed from his lungs, and Superboy leaped across the street toward the monstrous things that had caused all of this. He cocked his arm back, locking it in place until just the right moment presented itself to let it loose. And when that moment came he loosed it like a cannon, his knuckles cracking against one of the alien's scaled, ugly faces. A sickening pop followed as the scales themselves buckled, and something warm and hot splashed up along Conner's hand; a good feeling, he decided, and one he was intent on experiencing many times in the next few minutes.
“They say if you bring science into a fantasy setting, God kills a catgirl. I hate catgirls.”
O V E R V I E W
N A M E
Eileen Fang
A V A T A R
Ailanthus Altissima
A G E
32
G E N D E R
Female
V I S A G E
Under a dark suit of magical armor is the small, frail frame of Ailanthus Altissima. Though she could have been her ideal self, her PARIAH appearance is (other than being free of blemishes) unremarkable, normal, and bland. That is how she sees herself. She appears slightly younger than she actually is because society reminds her constantly that she hasn't matured because she's not married and still plays games. Her glasses form a very core part of her identity and followed her into PARIAH. When out of armor, she wears a white robe that acts as a closest approximation to a lab coat. She has no desire to 'stay in-character' or preserve 'immersion' for others, intentionally commissioning crafters to make her scientific- and futuristic-looking gear.
Below is her face, 90% of the time:
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Tessa is a single, middle-aged woman whose work- and social-life has her stressed to breaking point, causing her to indulge in escapist behavior with the aid of electronic media. In some circles, she might be called an 'otaku', which would be true; while others might call her a 'fujoshi', which would be technically incorrect. High-strung and irritable, Tessa has difficulty keeping her stress from flowing into her leisure activities, and is often accused of 'spoiling the mood'. Some question why she even plays games as she has a tendency to become frustrated easily, a trait that stems from performance anxiety.
Though Tessa has difficulty enjoying a game if things don't go her way, she is addicted to the rush of things going right. Despite her thorny and at-times belligerent behavior, Tessa has a deep sense of responsibility, a need to not only pull her own weight, but to go above and beyond. However, she not only holds herself to this level of perfectionism, she expects the same from anyone unfortunate enough to be her teammate.
B A C K G R O U N D
Urban China was all Eileen ever knew, from the robotic and highly-competitive educational system to the robotic and highly-competitive high-tech industrial work environment. She never stood out when it came to academic excellence, but she did stick her neck out just far enough to warrant being bullied and socially sabotaged by her peers. She went through life with jaded bitterness and social awkwardness.
She retreated daily to social media, illegally downloaded anime, manga, and games, becoming addicted to MMO's in particular. She was known as a rage gamer, logging on alone, joining teams of people she didn't know to participate in dungeons and other party activities. She even attempted forum RP once but only ended up arguing with others, pissing people off, and finally, rage-quitting for good.
Living in the high-tech center of ShenZhen, Eileen is an engineer in a bloated company that produces and sells cheap, barely-functional healthcare devices. Her life is a wreck and she was so caught up in securing her place in the world that her nearer relatives are now suddenly concerned that she will never get married and have kids. Her daily routine has not changed since school: wake up, wash up, commute, attend class/work, commute home, eat, leisure, sleep, repeat.
One day, the company's R&D division wanted to play with the idea of therapeutic VR, and got several PARIAH headsets for the researchers to toy around with. But due to lack of a perceivable market, the project was dropped and the headsets were put in permanent storage. Eileen asked to take one home and the lax inventory manager gave her the OK. She wasn't that interested in VR, but figured she'd give it a go. She figured that the worst that could happen was that she'd lose interest and leave it in a corner to gather dust, which it would have done anyways if she didn't take it.
A T T R I B U T E S
R O L E
Control Mage
A F F I L A T I O N
Queon
E L E M E N T A L D O M A I N
Metal
A R C A N E D O M A I N
Auras
P R O F E S S I O N
Enchanter
W E A P O N O F C H O I C E
Chains
R O U G H V I R T U A L H I S T O R Y
Ailanthus Altissima, the scientific name for a plant commonly called the 'tree of Heaven'. It is an invasive species with the ability to clone itself through its roots in a technique called 'suckering', and is, like the mythological hydra, difficult to exterminate. It is considered a noxious weed due to the foul-smelling odor it produces. The tree also resprouts vigorously when cut, making its eradication difficult and time-consuming. In many urban areas, it has acquired the derisive nicknames of "ghetto palm", "stink tree", and "tree of Hell".
No one knows, or cares, why Dr. Eileen Fang chose this name, and most refuse to say it in full, earning Eileen the nickname 'Tessa' from Altissima. Since logging on for the first time, Tessa has been like her namesake, invading parties and raising a stink. Her initial desire had been to party up and quest with others, but her belligerence always got in the way.
Eventually, she turned her focus to enchantments, seeing a need in the community for those who only had access to crafted gear to attain gear that could compete with rare drops. While her enchantments aren't that good, properly crafted and enchanted gear at least had a fighting chance against Rares and Epics, and sometimes, a fighting chance was all some adventurers needed. Tessa found her niche, but still needed to satisfy her urge to actually adventure, so she would take enchanting commissions, find out what materials she needed for her enchantments, and then demand the ones who commissioned her to take her with them when they went to farm said materials.
Due to forcing herself into parties in this way, Tessa adopted a flexible, albeit lazy, playstyle: a confusing, semi-immobile walking disaster area, essentially claiming a large portion of the battlefield as her own and manipulating the positions of her enemies, doing some status effects and some damage, while still survivable enough to hold her own.
Tessa has not achieved fame for her enchantments; she instead draws clients by under-selling other enchanters, a practice that has gotten her in trouble with guilds on more than one occasion.
Update to the new template! Ink wants all the sheets to be uniform n' such. Other than that, you're gonna be good
Crumbling towers of rusted steel and broken glass reach high into the heavens, standing as stark sentinels of a bygone age. Chariots with wheels of rubber and chassis of broken iron fill unwalked roads, and cities of impossible construction stretch for miles upon miles- empty of any signs of life. Save, of course, for the Broken. Those terrible creatures of fang and claw that crawl in the darkest corners of the old world, their hives nestled in the tall towers and under the bridges of stone. Only the bravest knights or the most desperate adventurers would dare to invade the lands of the Broken, and a scarce few of them ever return.
No one remembers what destroyed the world. Perhaps it was a war that encompassed every nation and every people, where weapons of incredible destructive power were unleashed, and everything was wiped out. Perhaps disease, unknowable and incurable, spread about the land and wrought the hand of death on all that drew breath. Or perhaps it was the arrival of the Broken that claimed the lives of the Before Men. Or maybe it was none of these things. By some awful chance, it could be a combination of all of them. No one knows for sure. Even the eldest scribes and the most traveled storytellers only know tiny pieces of what the old world was like. Wild tales of fantasy had intermingled with the truth down the ages, deluding what was known with stories of ancient powers and cruel gods.
Its rebirth is similarly surrounded by a veil of mystery. It is known that all life came to an end, but something...something brought it back. Some unknown force reached down into the radiation-ridden muck of the earth and dragged forth the next generation of men. It pressed into their unbeating chests the power that would forever change the world: Magic. A gift barely understood by those that wield it, magic was the only thing that kept man alive. It cut through the darkness, drove off the beasts that nipped at man's heels, gathered people together and allowed them to climb out from the pits of hell that their ancestors had damned them to so long ago.
Thousands of years have passed, and mankind has returned to its old ways. Violence reigns as the Delphi Imperia seeks to conquer land further to the west, mustering its armies and preparing yet another campaign. The League of Free Cities scrambles to shore up its defenses, knowing all too well that the Iron Legions of Delphi would have little trouble besting the League's mercenary armies and citizen soldiers. Desperate to tip the scales in their favor, Praetor and its allies began to pour their great wealth into expeditions into the ruins of the Old World. They believe their salvation lies in those ancient ruins, that some great weapon of the Before Men might be used to turn the Iron Legions to ash and save the League from certain destruction.
The Setting/Worldbuilding
The known world is split into several regions, though our story will be focusing on just one of those regions: The Southland.
The Southland encompasses everything below the snow-covered north, east of the Impassable Mountains, and north of the Scorch. The Southland has resources in abundance, with extensive forests, rolling hills, and rich soil. This abundance drove much of the reborn mankind into the Southland, and thousands of years later they continue to squabble among one another for its riches and wealth. Though hundreds of city-states, tribes and petty kingdoms dot the countryside, the five major powers hold most of the sway.
Of the five major powers, the League of Free Cities is one of the youngest. Sixty years ago a defensive pact was signed by the region's city-states when Delphi invaded their region, sacking several cities along the way. Rallied behind Praetor, the strongest and wealthiest of the city-states, the League managed to push Delphi's legions back in a long and bloody conflict. Several years of violence later and they managed to secure a peace treaty with the Imperia. Though the war was over, the cities were sure Delphi would someday return, so the League's pact was made permanent.
The Free Cities have prospered since then. Trade has flourished between each city-state, and their militarization has created a wealth of opportunities for mercenaries for hire and those that equip them.
Recently the League's scouts have noticed troop movements near the border. Delphi is gathering its legionaries in preparation for military action. Fearing a repeat of the previous war, the Free Cities have begun to invest much of their wealth into treasure hunting expeditions into the Old World ruins. Everyone knows the stories of the terrible power the Before Men wielded, and the League's kings believe such weapons could be of use to them.
The League is best known for its artisans and craftsmen. Many a world-renowned shipwright, blacksmith, and builder have come out of the Free Cities, and their wares are much sought after across the land. A powerful merchant class has risen up as a result; they hold a great deal of sway over the goings-on in the free cities. Gifts of gold and silver to kings can see laws changed to better suit traders and vendors. Slavery is the backbone of the economy, with the primary source of slaves being non-violent criminals.
Onake Tribes. The region from eastern Montana over to Ohio and down to Utah and Arkansas is known colloquially as the 'Plains,' and the people that live there, the Plainsmen. The Plainsmen were once a diverse and divided people, bickering over farmland, hunting ground and rights to access certain rivers and lakes. Their petty squabbles were interrupted when Empress Ramiel Cinders declared the First Ramiel Campaign, launching her invasion of the Plains. Her forces washed across the eastern Plains, crushing the tribes that did not bend the knee. The Uri, the Arkan, the Owa, and the Wisco tribes saw the armies marching from Delphia and decided that they would not survive unless they fought together. The four tribes united and on the banks of the Mispi River they held back the Delphian tide. Imperial forces were routed by their combined efforts, but only at the cost of many Plainsmen lives.
Though the Empire was defeated, they all knew victory was only temporary. Delphia would return, and in greater numbers, so they had to prepare. A call went out to every tribe in the Plains to gather in Uri, and most answered. There, at the Council of Uri, the Chieftains of the tribes forged a blood pact. They promised- on pain of death- that their tribes would come to the aid of one another whenever they were threatened by an outside force. On that day the Plainsmen Federation was born.
It couldn't last forever. A second military campaign was launched, and this time Delphia's generals were prepared. The unified resistance of the Plainsmen put up an excellent fight, and every battle of the war was extended and bloody. The campaign dragged on for many months, with the Empire managing to tear an inch of land from the Plainsmen at a time. It wasn't until winter hit, and the Empire found itself grinding against Fort Fairfield in modern-day Kansas City, that a peace treaty was drafted.
The Plainsmen are best known for their tireless and robust horses, and their archers are regarded as having a near-mythical accuracy. The plains have excellent farmland, with almost half of the wheat products consumed by Northerners coming from farms in the plains. Many Plainsmen tribes follow the traditions of old, acting as steppe nomads that travel across the steppes hunting and gathering from the wild land.
Once upon a time, the Crown of Forn controlled the area around California, Nevada, and Arizona. The region was peaceful and prosperous. It's leaders fair and compassionate. That was before the Faith Keepers arrived. They came as part of ordinary trade caravans, spreading the word of the 'Faith.' Like a wildfire, their beliefs spread. People were captivated by their miracles and displays of divine might. Their followers were zealous and devout. They saw the 'decadence' of Forn and sought to purge it clean. Violent revolts ensued across the kingdom, and the king's head was chopped from his shoulders while his family was burned to be cleansed by fire for their sins. It was a violent affair that brought about the Ember's Children. No one knows if the original orators of the Faith even planned for this. But when the wheels of fate began to turn, there was no stopping them.
The Priestdom founded its holy fortress on the island of Alcatraz. Guarded by the hordes of Broken that inhabited the nearby urban rubble, none could cross the water without facing the holy pyre that came up from underneath. Not without the guidance of the Ferryman. The Faith Keepers have been in power for two hundred years, and things in Forn have changed. All citizens of the Priestdom are members of the church, paying tithe to the Faith Keepers for protection and eternal salvation. It's one of the safest places in the Northland with Keeper soldiers on every corner, with every loyal citizen willing to string up those that disturb their peace.
Far from an isolationist state, the Priestdom regularly sends out Missionaries in the thousands to spread the Faith to all corners of the known world. They speak of the Father and his holy fire with which he cleanses pure the evils of the world. They tell of prophecies of a second apocalypse if the world does not turn it's heart away from sin. And they glorify the name of the Father of Mankind, who washes all of his loyal children in divine bliss. All who worship the Father bear the mark of the faith: A burning key tattooed proudly upon one's forehead. This symbol is banned in both the Triumvirate and the Delphian Empire; any seen wearing it are turned away or arrested. Many missionaries have a black band that they wear about their heads to hide the symbol when entering areas where those of the Faith are persecuted.
For one of the largest nations in the North, the Drei is shrouded in a surprising amount of secrecy and myth. Few know the exact date it was founded, or when the Triumvirs truly came to power. Those with that knowledge all live under the Law of No Tongue, wherein a Wizard from Salyia shall never divulge the mysteries of magic to a 'mundane.' The first records of outsiders contacting the Triumvirate came three and a half centuries ago when a group of Plainsmen riders traveled further west than they ever had before. They encountered a strange man in a large brimmed hat who spoke not the common tongue. The man was said to speak three words: 'frigus odium pluviae', and the sky tore open, and half of the riders were turned to statues of ice.
Salyia has come a long way since that day. The Triumvirate, while still secretive, has chosen to open it's borders to foreigners. Certain areas are restricted to Triumvirate citizens only for fear of revealing too much, but beyond those high walls, Salyia openly trades and interacts with any who step foot in their beloved home. Salyia is a hub of magical artifacts, their items ranging from weak spell scrolls that help wheat grow to elixirs that can regrow missing limbs in mere hours. Their wares are some of the most sought after items in the world, behind the Old World treasures everyone so desperately craves. Many have marched on Salyia's gates to take it's magic for themselves. None have succeeded in piercing the inner defensive ring.
The Triumvirate is ruled by the three most powerful wizards in the nation, each coming from one of the three major Arcane Academies in the capital city of Olym. These wizards, thanks to their magic, can live upwards of two hundred years. Rumors abound as to whether or not the current Triumvirs are the founders, or if they succeeded the old guard long ago, but the three magicians are obviously ancient and powerful forces to be reckoned with.
Beyond the Northland are the Frozen Wastes, where Canada, Alaska, and Greenland once were. There is little in the way of civilized life in the Frozen Wastes, with only a few tribes of hardy nomads daring to risk the arctic frost that has turned away weaker men. Some who live on the borders of the Frozen Wastes whisper of a large gathering of Wastefolk known as the Oathhorde. Supposedly they are made up of giants and beasts with strange, monstrous appearances and a taste for human flesh, though no one has any real proof of their existence. They're a folk story as far as most of the world is concerned.
Little is known about what lies to the south of the Kingdom of Dall. The Riogra River blocks all travel, save for those most prepared for what lies beneath those vile waves. It stretches from coast to coast, sinking deeper into the earth than any river should. Broken lie within its deceptively calm waters. Those demonic creatures drag all who attempt to travel across it into the depths where they vanish forever, never to be seen again. Only a choice few brave adventurers have ever attempted to cross it, and those that do never come back. Myth says that the Southlands are full of impossible riches and cities made of gold, and that's why none return. Other legends tell of the Southlands as being the true home of the Broken, saying it is a place of vile magic and evil that slaughters all who enter it. No one knows for sure, and all expeditions to prove either myth true have failed spectacularly.
What are the Broken? Where did they come from? What purpose do they serve? Why do they attack humans on sight? Why do they occupy old world cities?
No one is sure. Myth and legend abound. What we do know is that the Broken come in many different shapes and sizes. From massive Hydras, Dragons and Minotaurs to swarms of human-like creatures with stunted gaits and claws that tear through hardened leather. It is not well understood if the Broken are truly alive or not. They're made of a sort of...living metal, in a certain fashion. It's unknown what exactly it is, and Broken bodies are known to rapidly deteriorate once the creature dies, so experimentation is difficult. They seemingly show a level of intelligence in their combat tactics and have even been seen communicating with one another. But their tongue is...impossible. Like the grating of iron against iron, or the cutting of glass, it is pain upon the ears. A Broken has never attempted to interact with anything living other than to destroy it the second it enters into Broken territory.
Some have been observed to stand at the edge of their territory, completely still, watching. Others wait in ambush, hiding and waiting for humans or animals to wander into their active hunting grounds. It is unknown what the Broken do when they capture living things, though they have been observed taking prisoners. Some think they're devoured, but none have witnessed the Broken eating. They are known only to inhabit certain regions, such as Old World ruins and the borders along the Southland. Broken appear to be intolerant to the cold, having never been seen anywhere in the Frozen Wastes. During winter, they're known to retreat back into their hives within the glass towers, only exiting once prey draws near to their holds. Because of this, winter has been deemed the best time for adventurers to attempt to plunge into the depths of these ruins.
Attempts to enter these old cities with large fighting forces always end in failure. The Broken are attracted to life, and a large number of living things entering their territory brings them out in hordes. Thousands upon thousands of Broken have responded to mere hundreds of mercenaries marching into their territory. These expeditions always end in mass routes or total slaughters of the expeditions. This is why small teams of skilled warriors are usually used for artifact scavenging since they attract less Broken toward them than a large group. Certain spells can be used to shroud life signs, making wizards valuable assets for adventuring parties.
Magic exists, though it is incredibly rare. Most people are unlikely to possess strong magical abilities, with the few rare exceptions being the wizards, witches, and sorcerers that inhabit the world. Magic is tied directly to the incantations used There are certain magics that can be cast using scrolls, but these tend to be rather weak in comparison to the 'real' magic of a wizard. I will likely only be accepting a few magic users into the party for the reasons stated above. Magic behaves in a similar manner to Dungeons and Dragons.
To cast a spell, one must wield a specific, enchanted object (such as a staff or wand) and verbally recite the spell's full name in an incantation. The power of these incantations is directly tied to how loudly the magician speaks the word, with more powerful spells being more exhausting to use than normal ones. Most spell names are in Latin.
There are two subtypes of magic: Arcane and Elemental.
Elemental magic is that which encompasses the manipulation or creation of things that already exist. So the elements such as fire, water, earth, and air, or things like metal or nature, would fall under this category. Most magic is elemental, so it is the primary weapon of most wizards.
The other type is Arcane, which encompasses things, not of this world. This is the more fantastical manipulation of vague magic energies or powers of a divine nature. Spells that can resurrect or command the dead, that cast bolts of energy, or open a portal. Arcane spells are usually tied to scrolls, as casting 'full power' arcane magic is a rare ability that most do not possess.
OOC Information
Welcome to Sticks And Stones, a far future Science Fantasy Roleplay set in what was once the United States. I will be your guide in your travels across this strange land wrought with danger, mystery, and adventure. Here are a few things you should know about Sticks and Stones before we continue:
-If I was to give this RP a level, it'd be somewhere around High Casual.
-I'm looking for at least four adventurers to take up this quest, though I won't be putting a cap on the number of applicants unless things get absurd. My usual rule of thumb is the more the merrier, and I will more than likely keep the RP open even after we have started. It may be difficult to join in at certain points, but I will do my best to work everyone in.
-I'd like applicants to be in it for the long haul. Posts may come slower than in some other RPs since things like school, work, or other real-life obligations can get in the way of writing. Anyone coming in should be prepared for that, and patience for your fellow writers is necessary. With that said, I'd like that we at least stay in contact so that everyone knows we're all still in the game. I ask that a weekly update is given, either in the form of a post or informing us that you won't be able to post this week. How we'll proceed when someone drops or if they have a long absence will be discussed when we come to it, though if you can't be active for a long amount of time your character may be skipped over so that the story can continue moving. A postless RP quickly becomes a dead one, after all.
-Length isn't too important to me, but substance is. All posts should offer something that others can react to or work off of. If your last post could be deleted and it wouldn't affect the scene in the slightest, something's gone wrong. In general, one-liners or very short posts that offer little in the way of substance are frowned upon. Don't feel the need to rush out a short post. You've got at least a week to write one, after all!
-When we start out, everyone will be allowed one character. As things move forward this may change, but I would like for us to keep things small and laser focused when we first begin.
-General rules for the site and Roleplaying, in general, apply, obviously. Basically: smut/+18 situations are mandatory fade to black, treat everyone else involved in the game well, and don't power/meta/god game, and all that jazz. The RP will touch on mature themes like violence and may go into detail, so just keep that in mind before applying.
-The beginning premise of Sticks And Stones is that we are a party of adventurers brought together by special order of the king. We will be sent into the remains of the city of Dallas in search of still-working artifacts from the old world.
I'm in the middle of a DnD campaign, literally taking turns as I write this, but I was too excited I couldn't wait.
In terms of the roleplay, I love what everyone has said so far. I do agree characters should to some level be moderated. Padawans can be OP if you're not careful, but I do agree that there are some more adept padawans, some that are born with a natural gift of the force. I'd love some flexibility on characters but making sure everyone knows how far is too far. I'd love to see different stories in one overwall big RP campaign.
We have a decent amount of players interested, so each of those characters might interact or at least know who each other is at some point in time. One group of characters are busy fighting with Hondo and his band of pirates on Florrum, while the others are trying to chase down a bounty hunter headed for that very conflict, intending to eliminate one of the Jedi busy in that battle. I'd love to see interconnecting stories and characters interacting with each other within reason; with that I'll also mention holograms, mentioning other characters when the opportunity arises. I love interconnecting stories, and being mentioned by another character for one reason or another, just adds to the depth.
Super excited to see this flower open up, I've felt somewhat empty in the creative roleplay department ever since a LOTR roleplay between some friends had to meet its end due to IRL commitments.
I've got so much interest in this I'm gonna explode. :D
Join us on the Discord when you get the time! Lot of discussion goes on there, and its the easiest and quickest way to get questions answered and connect with other active players.
Andrew's defining trait is his height. Measuring in at six feet and four inches tall, he naturally draws in the eye with his towering stature. His appearance is made all the more striking by just how thin his frame is. Gray can't count the number of times he's heard the 'how's the weather up there?' line, though he knows he gets it almost as much as the 'do you play basketball?' question. He finds it all to be more obnoxious than anything else- but the same can't be said for his weight. Lacking any muscle at all, Andrew's incredibly self conscious about just how thin he is. No one wants to appear weak.
That's where he and his avatar in Pariah differ.
While Graves and Andrew share equal height, his in-game persona possesses a far larger frame. A chest as broad as an ox and muscle like coiled iron, Graves is a force to be reckoned with. The imagined character was designed to compensate for it's designer's perceived flaws, granting Gray the physical strength he's only ever dreamed of wielding.
Other differences are more aesthetic in their reasoning. Andrew abandoned his painfully average dark hair in favor of a brighter, sleeker silver. It's equally as long, and often kept up in the same messy ponytail that Andrew has grown so accustomed to both in and out of game. His eyes remain the same shade of blue, though they're a great deal sharper and more confident when he's Graves, the legendary bounty hunter rather than Andrew, the gas station clerk.
Personality
Graves is everything that Andrew is not. Where Andrew is meek and quiet, Graves is confident and boisterous.
He is without inhibitions; unconstrained by societal norms or fear of reprisal from others. Graves does whatever he wishes and anyone that doesn't follow him can either get the hell out of his way or be ran over. Many consider this behavior to be destructive and backwards. His abrasive bluntness catches many off guard, and has on more than one occasion gotten Graves into a fight with someone who didn't wish to deal with his arrogance.
In his actual life, Andrew despises confrontation. In game, he thrives on it. Combat is visceral, and it allows him to live out every power fantasy he's ever craved. To be strong, to be confident, to have a place in the world. All of the pent up aggression and hostility that Gray has internalized for so long can be released in an act of savage violence.
He has little time to service others, caring for himself above all else. Graves doesn't waste time helping those who cannot offer him something in return. With an endless world of possibilities at his fingertips, there's far too much to do in Pariah to lose even an hour on something he cares little for. Someone else will come along to help; they always do.
One trait that Andrew shares with his counterpart is his love of solitude. Though Pariah is meant to be a shared experience, Graves spends much of it wandering the expansive environments alone. Companions slow him down. Party members falter and fail whenever Graves counts on them. When he's going solo, Graves doesn't have to worry about watching someone's back, and the blame for his failings can fall on his shoulders alone.
Background
Andrew was born in a little town in Ohio to two loving parents and eight siblings. He was unlucky enough to be one of the middle children, so it was no surprise when he was overshadowed by his more talented and capable siblings.
His town was small, and his high school even smaller- which meant finding friends and penetrating the normal clichés was quite difficult for someone that had gotten used to quietly observing. Gray wasn’t exactly an introvert. He could be loud, excitable and social- but he just…never got the chance to. He didn’t have many friends at all.
That is, until he had scrounged up enough cash for his first MMO. He used his low grade laptop to play the game at its lowest settings; it was choppy, constantly lagged and rather ugly…but he loved it. He loved everything about the game. Gray retreated from his less than stellar normal life into the world of a generic role playing game. He ignored his tanking grades, few acquaintances and boisterous family to play for hours on end.
He started off grinding on his own, as most do. But he chanced upon a party of likeminded individuals that needed a secondary tank. Andrew melded seamlessly into their company. They were all chill people, for the most part, and willing to help teach him how to play the game properly.
They continued to play together for months, the size of the group ever expanding as they built up a sizable guild of their own. Andrew became near addicted to raiding. Fighting bosses was the most visceral and exciting experience he’d ever had in a game.
Eventually Andrew was (somehow) able to graduate high school and purchase a real computer. All was well for him. His family only occasionally harassed him for being a bum. He had a steady job at a backwater gas station, making minimum wage for very little work. He had made a decent circle of friends for himself within the guild. Life was simple; it was good.
Things didn't stay that way forever.
It started off as something infinitesimally small. A couple of arguments over petty issues. Andrew tried not to get involved, most of the time; he just wanted to focus on playing the game and enjoying himself. But as time passed, the arguments grew in number. They got more serious. Issues between his friends grew; problems from a past that Andrew wasn't around for reared their ugly heads. All of it was stupid and inane, in his eyes. He did his best to act as a mediator when he could, but it rarely worked.
Things came to a head when a shouting match over voice comms ended with the guild's leader- and Andrew's closest personal friend- leaving the guild in the hand's of his second. Things fell apart from there as him stepping down only furthered the divides between the others. One by one, the original group Andrew had joined left. Contact became sparse, and then they all went radio silent. This thing that had consumed Andrew's life for the better part of a few years was now gone, and there was...a void.
Andrew hadn't felt this alone in a long time. He quietly retreated further into himself. Months passed with his life being little more than keeping to himself and working a dead end job with no future in sight. It wasn't until the local game store announced that they'd received a shipment of VR headsets and were planning to hold a giveaway to celebrate that things changed for him. Andrew entered the giveaway, and he won! A copy of one of the most hyped MMOs in history came with an equally desired piece of hardware worth obscene amounts of money. Andrew didn't waste any time throwing himself into the game.
Reputation
Graves is not a widely known name due to how much he keeps to himself. His infamy has been growing recently, however, among the more attentive members of the bounty hunting community. The profession is used by a large chunk of the player base; however, the few hundred or so individuals that claims to be 'professional bounty hunters' are a highly competitive and inclusive group. So when some no name young blood starts snatching up important contracts and taking down high level bosses and esteemed players, the smarter heads start to turn.
He's an above average raider that joins public groups, dominates his enemies and takes what he needs before disappearing again.
Above average at best is the highest praise Graves is deserving of. He's no professional, and he lacks the experience or gear to challenge the really big names. He isn’t ready to enter into that ring.
Yet.
He's dedicated himself to becoming the absolute strongest hunter in the game, and he's going to do it by almost any means necessary. The only thing he's wary of is teaming up with other players. He's partied up a handful of times, but never long enough to get attached- he knows where that particular road leads.
However, there are some obstacles which cannot be overcome alone. Some enemies cannot be defeated through sheer force of will and hours of scrolling through guides and wikis online. On occasion, Graves has to team up with others- usually to do bosses or gank unsuspecting targets that he can't beat alone. His temporary help always gets a 'piece of the pie' so to speak; he makes sure they get something out of the effort, even if he doesn't plan to stick around for very long.
Attribues & Additional Information
Role
Tank
Affiliation
Sikth
Profession
Bounty Hunter
Weapon of Choice
A halberd he affectionately refers to as his 'pike'
Domain(s)
Water Transmutation
Benchmarks (Physical)
Tough Skin: Graves is naturally more durable than other non-tank characters. He doesn't wear particularly heavy armor; however, his naturally high health pool allows him to take incredible amounts of damage for a character with relatively low defense gear. The trade of for this is he's weighs a hell of a lot more than other classes, and is thus slower and can be kited by ranged or agile enemies. He gained this trait through hundreds of hours of getting the shit kicked out of him without armor on, which has led to increased durability without the need for heavy armors.
Potion Addict: Graves has been relying on potions for his tanking abilities since he started playing Pariah. After chugging down countless elixirs, his physiology has an easier time adapting to the ingested liquids. Potions last longer and are more potent on Graves than others. A small side effect being that Graves can’t function very well without them in his system. He usually carries potions for lifesteal, iron skin and healing- to make him even harder to kill.
Blood In The Water: Much like a shark, Graves gets a sort of sixth 'sense' whenever a target is bleeding. It allows him to track them within twenty five meters (doubles if he was the one that made them bleed); it's less like echo location and more like a compass that points him in their general direction. It won't reveal the exact position of a hiding enemy, nor does it tell Graves if they are above or below him- simply where they would be on a two dimensional field. Dozens of hours of trying to hunt down that last monster for his bounty hunting quest has made the tank a decent enough tracker.
Enhanced Strength: The weapons and armor used by a tank are heavy. Graves is required to have above average physical strength if he wants to use them effectively. This also means he's able to carry more (when not impeded by his regular gear) and hits slightly harder with unarmed attacks.
Executioner: Graves tends to fight harder when his enemy his on the back foot. He pushes his advantage and attempts to go for killing blows as often as possible. A slew of decapitated and mutilated foes behind him, Graves has learned how to more effectively hurt enemies that are already wounded. Enemies very close to death's door take more damage from Graves' attacks, although he also heals less off of them and takes more damage from them- so he has to be careful with certain monster types or enemies with 'deathrattles.'
Benchmarks (Mental)
Monster Bestiary: Graves has studied the average field and dungeons mobs extensively. He has a fairly good grasp on what most common enemies are capable of, what their weaknesses are, ect. More rare beasts, especially those he isn't high enough level to be fighting anyway, wouldn't apply.
Boss Bestiary: Graves is a raider at heart. He loves MMOs for the massive, titanic battles between huge parties and giant bosses. It's his favorite part of Pariah. Thus, he's invested quite a bit of time into learning some of the boss enemies in the game. The tougher, higher end leviathans that require teamwork, determination and raw power to defeat. Knowledge is power in these sort of encounters, and Graves has made sure he knows about the general workings of the bosses he's likely to face.
Meditative Healing: Since Graves' combat stance is entirely based on healing, he figured he could use an out of combat healing ability too. Essentially, Graves can sit down and focus his magic on repairing his wounds. How long it takes depends on the severity of his injuries. The stance is extremely taxing, takes awhile to start and takes forever to finish if he's hurt- and it can't heal things like broken bones or eviscerated organs. He'll need a real healer for that.
Metalworking: Required field to get to Weapons' Repair. He uses this as a source of income, creating very basic items and selling them either on the market or to NPCs. He would much rather get money from killing mobs all day and pawning off legendary raid items, but sadly working the marketplace is the only real way to get a stable source of income.
Weapons' Repair: Graves likes his Pike. It's his favorite weapon. He isn't very good with much else, and doesn't have a backup for when it breaks. So, instead of constantly paying vendors and other players to fix it for him, he decided to spec into Weapons' Repair and do the damn thing himself.
I think the primary reason is for a non-traditional approach. Hell, in the OR Era, it could be they run at the same time etc etc. Point is, we have literary license here. What's wrong with saying yes if it's well written and the writer can prove they won't abuse it?
@Ellri has not said you absolutely can not have it. Just that it's creation would need to be well explained.
There's nothing wrong with it, and that's the current stance, as had been said already.
EDIT: If my comments come across as rude, I apologize. My point might be a little more strongly worded than I might've intended. I'm just tryin' to illustrate that there's really no fight to be had here. I have my own issues with some of the Persistent World stuff thus far, so I'm all for presenting issues to the mod team, but I'm really not sure this is an issue since basically everyone is in agreement about it, as far as I understand it.
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