1. Home
  2. Tim the Yeti

Tim the Yeti male Member

ಠ_ಠ

STATUS: The older (and subsequently busier) I get, the more I have come to understand and appreciate shorter posts. It's all I seem to have time for these days :/ 5 mos ago
Avatar of Tim the Yeti

Status

Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
Current The older (and subsequently busier) I get, the more I have come to understand and appreciate shorter posts. It's all I seem to have time for these days :/
7 likes
6 mos ago
¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯
3 likes
6 mos ago
Ever since I learned that the 2005 King Kong film directed by Peter Jackson features a companion book outlining the fictional biology of Skull Island, I have wanted to use it as a setting for an RP...
2 likes
6 mos ago
Absolutely LOVED Primal and eagerly awaiting more episodes. The dinosaur designs in that show hit perfectly on the part of my brain still living in my little kid dino obsession.
1 like
6 mos ago
I gotta say, using the stone age as a backdrop for a fantasy world rather than the typical medieval and beyond is an interesting idea and should be done more often imo.
1 like

Bio

Please take a look at my current interest check here to get an idea for what sort of roleplay I'm seeking at the moment.


As it stands, this bio is a little outdated, I just don't have the heart to get rid of it just yet. Cheers!




Hello and welcome to my all-inclusive interest check! Please come in and have a look over everything I've laid out. I hope to keep this up to date with plots, pairings, and other general bits of roleplaying inspiration.

If anything interests you, I ask that you PM me instead of replying to this thread. I really want to keep this thread looking nice and tidy, and it is incredibly likely that I won't see your reply. PMs are the best way to reach me.

Thank you!

Status: Open and Searching
Current Plot Craving(s):
"An Autumn Wedding"
Current Pairing Craving(s):
P R I N C E ❤ P R I N C E S S



My name is Tim and I'm a 25 year old Male who got hooked on roleplaying around 2009 when Deviant Art chat rooms were a big thing. Since then, I've been in and out of the game, but I've never stopped writing. I'm well out of school now and have entered the general workforce, and on top of my job, I have several hobbies that have been known to demand my attention. But, no matter what happens, I am the sort of person who believes in maintaining an open line of communication with my roleplaying partner(s), and regardless of how busy I can get, I tend to churn out at least a post a day (sometimes two) most of the time, and a post every other day at all other times.

That being said, I recognize that things happen and schedules change. If something is to happen in my life that will draw me away from our roleplay, I will not hesitate to notify you. And I do ask that you offer me the same courtesy.


G E N E R A L P R E F E R E N C E S
★ = optional but strongly desired!

  • High Preference for Romance
  • M/F Romantic Pairings (Female Partner Preferred)
  • Smut
  • Story:Smut Ratio = 60:40 or 70:30
  • High Casual - Advanced (except during scenes with heavy dialogue/action)
  • Multiple Characters1 ★
  • Focus on World Building and Character Relationships
  • Character Sheets ★
  • OOC Planning (Story Arcs, Character Arcs, Villains, Plotting, etc.)
  • General OOC Communication (Discord is Ideal)
  • Monster Girls2 ★ (not furries!)
  • Harem Romance ★★


1 Please note that, while I do ask that my partners are open to playing multiple main characters, I do not expect for the bulk of the roleplaying labor to be placed upon their shoulders. Therefore, on top of playing my main character, I am more than happy to take point when it comes to playing villains and side characters, coming up with story arcs, and the general flow world building. Naturally, I would like for this roleplay to be a collaborative endeavor, but I also want to ensure that my partner doesn't feel as though the burden of storytelling is tipped unfairly.

2 Please ALSO note that my request for monster girls does not mean that I ONLY wish you to play monster girls. To be frank, such a lack in variety would be truly boring and I GLADLY accept more common races such as Humans, Elves, and the like. My request was never meant to replace the standard, but rather to accent it.



G E N R E S

Fantasy || Action || Adventure || Romance

P O T E N T I A L S E T T I N G S

Medieval || Victorian || Steam Punk || Silk Punk || Diesel Punk

(note that all settings take place in an entirely fictional world)


"An Autumn Wedding"


Palara has not seen war in nearly a century – a feat due in no small part to the actions of Queen Anwyn the Wise, the first noble from house Thiria to take the throne, and her diplomatic prowess that secured alliances between nearly all of her country’s neighboring kingdoms. Since then, the Royal Court of Thiria has held ruling power over Palara, and has made use of the peace that followed their first queen’s reign to shift the kingdom’s focus from warfare to knowledge.

With this era of newfound peace upon them, the rulers that followed in Lady Anwyn’s wake have saw to the construction of magnificent universities and great libraries which bolstered the already impressive cities of Palara with their intellectual pursuits. However, when it came time for discovery, researchers looked not to the lands beyond Palaran borders, but instead to the catacombs that lay beneath their feet. For as long as anyone can remember, the maze of crypts and tunnels that expand endlessly downward have remained enshrouded by the unknown.

Who build them?

For what purpose do they serve?

What knowledge is hidden away in their depths?

When at last researchers discovered the answers to these questions while under the reign of the most recent Thirian King, a man named Lord Ifor, they were stricken with regret. For, caught up in the excitement of discovery and intellectual advancement, they carelessly stumbled upon an ancient and powerful force that, if roused, could level the world without much thought or remorse.

Fear gripped Palara as the news of these new and terrible findings reached the surface. Hastily, the house of Thiria tried to bury the secret – only to find their efforts in vain. Rumors escaped through their fingertips and made their way across the lands to allies as well as enemies who, being mortals subject to greed and lust, demanded a share of this “power” without quite realizing what it was that they were asking for.

Needless to say, King Ifor denied all of them, certain that they and their people would be driven to ruin if they were given just a taste of what lurked beneath his kingdom. But his refusal only led to insistence, then accusations of betrayal, and, tragically, declarations of war. Suddenly Palara, a kingdom that had not known warfare in nearly a hundred years, was threatened with annihilation at the hands of people it once saw as friends.

Left with no choice, King Ifor called upon a distant country for aid and, forced to go against his wishes, organized a royal wedding that would secure the bond between them. On his side, a young bachelor prince, the son of the Grand Duke and Duchess of the Thirian court, was offered up for a marriage with their high princess.
W I P

"The Second Coming of the Eternal Shadow"


Long ago, in a time almost beyond memory, a powerful curse blinded the Gods and forced the world into what would come to be known as the First Century of Darkness. Without their sight, the divine could not see the fractures between the realms. And so, Demons slipped through into the mortal realm where, in their lust for bloodshed, they embarked upon great, terrifying conquests filled with death and torment.

Their arrival harkened the birth of a shadow which fed off of mortal suffering and spread throughout the lands. Insatiable, it swallowed up entire provinces, leaving nothing behind but rot and decay.

After just a decade, more than a dozen great empires fell to ruin, and entire races found themselves threatened with extinction.

For a time, it seemed that all was lost.

But then, in the darkest hour, a few mortals rose up to bring hope to the hopeless. On the surface they were simple folk: farmers, merchants, florists, blacksmiths... Nevertheless, they stood in spite of the overwhelming tide of despair and took up arms against the Demons and their masters. Although the odds were against them, they fought. Indeed, many of them perished. Yet, those among them who lived continued to push back against the great shadow, undeterred by the threat of death.

And they were the ones who kept the world from falling completely into the maw of shadow.

In the end, every hero who rose up against the Demons died a gruesome death. Even so, their willingness to stand when no one else could is what kept the waves of darkness back until the sight of the Gods returned and the encroaching shade could be banished once and for all.

Then, in an act of gratitude, the Gods and Mortals came together to erect a magnificent feast hall that was dubbed The Hall of Eternity; which was then transported into the afterlife and given as a gift to the heroes who fought for the people during the First Century of Darkness. There, the heroes were free to eat, drink, and rest until the end of time.

Unless, of course, they were called upon again.

Now, around two millennia have passed since the First Century of the Darkness and the mortal world has largely forgotten about the heroes of old. Certainly there are stories, but written records of that time (and ages that came before it) are scarce.

Stories -- bard songs and fireside tales told by half-blind old nurses to the children in their care -- were some of the only things that endured the years to serve as a vague reminder of what those hundred years were truly like.

And for a time, the myths and legends were satisfactory.

That is, until the Gods fell silent once more. All of a sudden, prayers went unanswered, holy warriors lost their blessings, and century-old pacts between the divine and their loyal servants were severed. Without warning, the very presence of the Gods vanished behind their ancient temple doors, and try as they might, no mortal could budge them to see where their beloved deities had gone to.

Despair settled across the lands.

Then, three great storms erupted in the corners of the world. These unnatural tempests tore through the kingdoms of mortals, bringing with them obtuse weather patterns that threw the very seasons off of their normal cycle. Crop fields flooded. Thunderstorms split ancient trees in twain. And blizzards raged through the southern plains.

Naturally, the Demons showed themselves not long after -- taking advantage, yet again, of the ever-growing fractures between the realms to slip through and resume their crusade for mortal bloodshed.

But neither storms nor Demons could compare to the most unexpected threat that would arise from the Silence of the Gods:

The Iron King.

For it was he, a mere mortal, who would drag the world down into another Century of Darkness. By his own hand, he fed the eternal shadow. Beneath his fist he crushed the provinces that once saw the birth of great heroes. And at his word, he was deemed the One True God of Man, and those who did not bow to his name were executed as heretics.

Fifty years passed, and no one rose against the darkness.

Truly it began to seem that the Iron King was immortal. With each passing day, his empire grew. Monolithic gateways between the realms were erected atop the bodies of slaves. More and more Demons poured into the land, ravaging it to the brink of annihilation. Those who did not bow were slain. Those who were not slain were drained and slaughtered. And those who fled were parted from their flesh by the winds of the tempests.

All seemed lost.

But a small sisterhood, working in secret, took it upon themselves to call for help from the Hall of Eternity using a circle of ancient, forbidden magic. And Ulios, the God of the Hall sent them a hero.

Just one.

A gentle-faced man with mahogany eyes and a honey-toned voice. His name was Sir Benedict. But the stories called him Gentle Ben. Certainly with a title such as that, he was ill prepared to vanquish anything -- let alone face the Iron King.

But the deed was done, and the circle was spent. The sisterhood, having used up the last of their magic, was then left with no choice but to trust Ulios' judgement and accept that this simple man was to be their hero.

"The Price of a Wish"


Once, a great many centuries ago, there was a family of faeries who had the ability to grant a mortal any wish that they desired in exchange for a single precious memory. With such a potent magic at their fingertips, they were often sought out by tenacious humans who desired fame, fortune, and power of their own. As such, over the years, the faeries granted hundreds of wishes; and in the process great heroes were born, terrible tyrants rose to power, and bizarre fauna were crafted from the fantasies of mundane folk looking to escape their simple lives.

Yet, although satisfied with their ever-growing collection of memories, the fae grew tired of the pestering and desired nothing more than to be left alone.

So one day, they vanished.

Unsurprisingly, most humans, fickle as they were, forgot about the wish-granting faeries within just a couple of generations. But, there were those who remembered; and who, determined to a fault, continued to seek the fae out – for they and their wishes would not be denied.

Then, over the next decade, each member of the faerie family was hunted down and forced to grant wish after wish for the insatiable, greedy humans who would go on to birth an empire so great and so terrible that the sun never set on its sprawling kingdom. And the fae, pushed to their very limit, perished at the hands of these mortals until only one was left – the old grandmother who managed to escape thanks to the help of a few kind souls. Alone, she fled into the wilderness where, although back in touch with the mothers of nature, she collapsed just off of an old abandoned road where a young, kind faced boy happened to be passing by humming an old folk tune to himself.

Desperate for a drink of water, the old fae overcame her distrust and asked the young human for help. The boy stopped and looked to helpless woman. He did not know the stories of their wish-granting powers, for they had well enough faded from mortal memory. No, the boy only saw a gentle old woman in need of help, so he quickly reached for his pouch and handed her his water sack. She thanked him and drank, but it was not enough.

The old fae was going to die.

Realizing her demise was close at hand, the old woman beckoned the boy close and decided that, for his simple act of kindness to a stranger, she would pass her wish-granting powers on to him – though this had never been done before and, certainly, she was not sure how they would manifest within a mortal. Nevertheless, in her final moments, the old faerie placed a kiss upon the boy’s forehead and died.

All of a sudden, the boy felt the great old magic begin to flow through him. In that moment he knew, but could not explain how, that he had been given the ability to do great things. And so he looked to the tall, obelisk-like towers of the empire that had, for his entire life, enslaved his father, whipped his mother, and starved his friends and he wished for the power to stop the pain once and for all.

Then, just like that, a memory slipped away (a mundane memory, to be exact, for the wish-granting powers work quite differently in the hands of a mortal), and the boy’s mind was flooded with skill and knowledge that he had never before imagined. At once, the boy knew how to hold a sword and how to fight; he knew how to maneuver through the midst of a battlefield and how to beat opponents twice his size; he knew how to inspire people and raise entire armies out of farmers and countrymen.

The boy knew how to be a hero, so that is what he became.

Although he was just a child, he, armed with the wish-granting magic, went on to inspire and lead a revolution against the tyrannical kings in a war which ended in liberation. And with the empire defeated, the boy was celebrated for the amazing things that he had done, and the world slipped into a brief, quiet age of peace.

But the boy’s mind could not rest. His head buzzed with the magic of the fae and his body, having been granted amazing skills, wondrous gifts, and terrible magics, would not calm. He yearned for another taste of fame and recognition, yet no evils rose for him to conquer.

So, the boy closed his eyes and wished – and out of his wish came a great and terrible dragon which burned entire villages, wiped out vast fields of livestock, and slaughtered innocents all across the countryside.

Suddenly, the boy was needed once again.

He sprung into action, defeated the dragon, and found himself showered in praise, gifts, and political influence once more. But then it was only a matter of time before boredom struck and the boy felt compelled to give up more of his memories for more opportunities to be seen as a hero.

The cycle continued until the boy became a man. Every so often, a new monster or demon or tyrant would rise out of the blue, and the hero would step in and save the people. Sometimes, the boy would accidentally wish for a creature that he could not defeat. But more wishes easily fixed that problem. In time, the people ran out of ways to thank their savior.

Yet it was never enough for the boy, who continued to fill the world with darker and more twisted monstrosities for him to face off against. After a while, he stopped craving the fame and began to crave a challenge. But when even that no longer became satisfying enough, the selfish, impulsive “hero” began to make wishes just to cater to his own passing whims.

The world fell into chaos, and people quickly learned who was responsible. In their eyes, the young man stopped being a hero, and instead became a plague. He was shunned at first, but the didn’t stop the wishes. Then, they begged him to relent. Nevertheless, he continued. So, faced with the torment being unleashed upon their lands, a coalition of kings and queens conspired to have him assassinated.

The silent mercenary attacked the once famed hero as he slept. But he awoke and killed his assailant. Then the young man fled deeper into the forests, away from the society that now hated him, and compulsively wished himself down to only a handful of memories.

In the end, the boy, now a man, wished away almost all of his memories and awoke in the middle of a dark and sinister wood with nothing but the face of his mother lingering in his mind. Knowing not even his name, the young man made a small home for himself in the trunk of an enormous old oak. And it was there that he lived alone and afraid, because every so often a stranger would come to his door and try to kill him, and he never knew why.

But what if, instead of trying to harm the young man, someone recognized that he was no longer the impulsive, sadistic fool that had wished the world into turmoil, but rather a frightened and confused man who wanted nothing more than to know compassion?

Perhaps, then, something worthwhile could be done to heal the discord.
W I P



P R I N C E ❤ P R I N C E S S
C O M M O N E R ❤ P R I N C E S S
K N I G H T ❤ P R I N C E S S
A S S A S S I N ❤ P R I N C E S S
P R I N C E ❤ V A M P I R E S S
K N I G H T ❤ V A M P I R E S S
G U N S L I N G E R ❤ V A M P I R E S S
H U N T E R ❤ V A M P I R E S S
V A M P I R E ❤ V A M P I R E S S
C O M M O N E R ❤ A N G E L
C O M M O N E R ❤ D E M O N E S S

F I N .

Most Recent Posts

In World War Kaiju (OPEN) → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


In Wasteland Restoration → 9 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Basic Info
Name: Aaron
Age: ~26-27

Appearance
Height: 6’2’’
Weight: 175 lbs
Build: Stocky Muscular
Short Description: Aaron is rough around the edges. He has a short, scruffy beard, messy black hair, and dark brown eyes. His hands are calloused and he has a bit of a slump to his gait — perhaps from years of carrying things on his shoulders.

History
Aaron’s mother just needed a meal when he was conceived. Needless to say, the man who exchanged his food for her services didn’t stick around, and he left her in the wasteland amid thieves and warlords. She gave birth to Aaron alone in a shack while black acidic rain fell from the sky. Then — while broken, exhausted, and dehydrated — she walked to the nearest colony with her infant son bundled in her arms. There, the people of Tinleaf were kind and gave her the rest she needed to get better.

Even though she never fully recovered from her fatigue, Aaron’s mother managed to raise him well enough. She brought him up as a quiet and humble man who felt like he owed something to the people of Tinleaf. The more he grew, the more Aaron went out of his way to help the colony in any way he could.

In many ways, this would become his prison. Aaron was happy to help, but always felt stifled by the self-imposed obligation. He never learned to read or write, and often looked to the mountains in the distance, daydreaming of what might lay beyond them. Time and time again, Aaron thought of leaving, but the thought of his mother always brought him back. Over the years, Aaron learned to keep his head down and work — it would help his mind stray away from thoughts of adventure.

Personality
Aaron is a quiet and humble man. He will almost always drop everything he is doing if it means helping another person. In many ways Aaron has ingrained instinct to assist, even to a fault. He hardly speaks, for fear of sounding undereducated, but he is constantly observing the world around him.

Equipment
Clothing: Aaron dresses in just a simple cream colored tunic, a pair of dark slacks, and some boots.
Other: Aside from the clothes on his back, Aaron doesn’t carry much. He has no need for books or journals, and trinkets rarely interest him. The only thing he has is a watch he was given by his mother. It no longer works, but his mother claims it belonged to her father, Aaron’s grandfather.

Events
(to be added)
In World War Kaiju (OPEN) → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Here you go, folks. I finally found the time to get this guy made.

Name
Gordon J. Benson

Age
35

Gender
Male

Nationality
Irish

Appearance


Occupation
Lead Expert in Experimental Programming and Mechanical and Electrical Engineering

Field of Expertise
A.I. Development, Weapons Development, and Experimental Full-body Arms Development.

Languages Spoken
English, German, Russian, French, and (some) Gaelic/Irish.

Personal History
Gordon doesn’t remember much about Ireland. When he was young, his parents moved for reasons they would not say. Instead, he spent most of his life growing up in the Queens, NY. He grew to love tinkering and showed an extreme interest in automated intelligence. After going to a special High School for the mathematically and scientifically gifted, Gordon applied and was accepted to Stanford University with a full ride where he was immediately placed into the top-level engineering program.

Six years later, he was out with a degree in both Mechanical Engineering and Computer Programming. He spent the next four years of his life working on his own theoretical Automated Intelligence formula and quickly published his findings, landing him a job in a high level lab and research facility. Once there, Gordon rose to the top and became the head of his own branch of technological advancement. For the next couple of years he was in charge of the research and development of Mechanics, Weapons, and Automated Intelligence. True A.I. is still quite a long shot, but that doesn’t stop Gordon from striving for it.

These days, Gordon works alone. His research is still valued highly, but he cannot seem to find people who meet his standards when it comes to work ethic, intelligence, and raw ambition. Instead, he has set up shop just a few blocks away from his home in Queens, and has worked tirelessly to uncover the secrets of A.I. using grant money from almost a dozen different research facilities — some of which aren’t even supposed to exist to the public eye.

Then, Gordon was called for the Kaiju Initiative.
In Wasteland Restoration → 9 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Basic Info
Name: Nikolas Alexander Ivanson
Age: ~85
Occupation: Engineer, warrior, traveler

Appearance
Height: 5’10’’
Weight: 140-150 lbs
Build: Slender Athletic
Short Description: In spite of his age, Nikolas looks as if he is still in his mid 20s, and he has the energy to match. He has a soft face, pale skin, and a stubbly chin. His hair is short, thick, and dark brown. His eyes are a striking electric blue color.

History
Nikolas grew up in the time before the world began to burn off. He was the son of a blacksmith, and grew to love metalwork, weapons, and tinkering. When he was 15, he became the apprentice to an engineer, and took upon the study of lightning. Then, the forests began to die out, drying up and becoming so brittle that they would fall apart.

Like many others, Nikolas saw this as just a phase, and ignored it in favor of his studies. Then, one day when he was in his mid 20s, there was a great forest fire and the electrical battery prototype that Nikolas had been constructing exploded, nearly killing him. When he awoke, his fingers carried the tingle of electricity, and any living creature he touched ran the risk of dying.

Because of this, Nikolas hid himself away in exile. For years he watched the world decay around him while he remained young and spry. Feeling as if he had been cursed by some sort of higher power, Nikolas vowed to right the wrongs that his ignorance had helped to bring. He came out of exile with the sole intention of repairing the land.

Personality
Nikolas is friendly and cheerful. Anything that bothers him he bottles up and tries to ignore. He is not one to show his emotions readily to anyone, and he takes a great deal of time to really warm up to people. He is a natural leader and teacher, but his overwhelming compassion for others has led to great disappointments in the past.

Equipment
Clothing: Nikolas travels in a set of light leather and cloth armor and a deep red hooded cloak to keep him warm at night. He is not one for heavier sets of plated armor unless the situation specifically calls for such a thing. Nikolas prefers to remain light on his feet.
Weapons: In spite of the large library of weapons that he has collected, Nikolas usually chooses to travel with just his claymore and bow.
Other: Nikolas never goes anywhere without his light staff. The large bulb on top is powered by his electricity, but he is free to change the brightness with dials on the side. At it’s highest setting, the staff can illuminate an extremely wide area and also potentially blind foes.

To carry everything, Nikolas has a leather backpack and several pouches around his belt. Most of the things he takes with him are small trinkets. Nikolas is a collector, and often can’t help himself. He is almost always carrying a book or novel on him, and will read to occupy his spare time. As a traveler, he also carries basic survival gear with him and any food he has is scavenged for along the way.

Powers/Abilities

Electric touch
Thanks to the explosion that gave him his extended lifespan, Nikolas has the ability to electrocute any living thing he touches. Unfortunately, this also does damage to him, and he cannot control how electricity flows through his fingertips. This is an inconsistent ability that could prick someone or kill them without warning. In the end, this isn’t so much of an ability as it is a curse. Nikolas currently has no control over this.

Expanded Lifespan
Also a result of the explosion, Nikolas has retained his youth for longer than normal. It is unknown how much his lifespan has been extended for.

Engineer
Nikolas is an accomplished and genius-level engineer. He works with great speed and dexterity and has been studying the design of automatons, and has a prototype in his workshop that runs off of the most basic steam engine. The only setback to this ability is the fact that Nikolas spent so much time studying electricity that is a bit of a novice at the construction of steam engines. He is learning.

Fighter - Claymore
Although not an expert, Nikolas can wield his claymore well enough to hold his own against most opponents. He has limited experience, however, and still has much learning to go.

Marksman - Basic Bow
On his travels, Nikolas has needed to use a bow in order to find food. From fishing to small game hunting. Over time, he has become increasingly accurate, and can hold his own well enough with bow combat.

Events
(to be added)
In Wasteland Restoration → 9 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
[The Wasteland]


No one knows what caused the world to burn away the way it did. Some blame it on the avarice of man, digging so deep that a great evil was unleashed. Others simply think that whatever gods exist out there became tired; disenchanted with the world that they created and have decided to start anew. Only it wasn’t quick like one might think an apocalypse should be. No, it was like smoldering embers against the skin, burning and stinging long after the coals are removed.

First, the forests died, and the very essence of magic itself evaporated away. Illnesses spread, killing off thousands until just a handful were left, and a silence descended over the land like a sheet. Then, the rivers dried up, the seasons disappeared, and dry heat reigned supreme. People dispersed into clusters and clung to what life they could. They held on with farming for a while, but eventually their cows lay dead among crumbling fields of wheat. Finally, the clouds covered the sky like a black tarp and people couldn’t even feel the warmth of the sunlight on their skin. The nights became frigid while the days remained just as hot as ever. From then on, people existed in a dim haze. Then, it began to rain. Instead of water, black tar-like liquid fell from the sky. When it touched their skin, it burned, and when it fell into their eyes, they were blinded. People scrambled for shelter, and killed each other just to get out of the rain until it stopped.

This is the world now. The people have become scavengers, thieves, bandits, and warlords. But only the most ruthless are able to rule, and they are almost always cruel. They enslave people to dig and build for them, constructing ziggurats and monoliths out of the bricks of long dead kingdoms. These people cast themselves as gods here to save, when their only true intent is to oppress.

------------------------


------------------------


Then there’s the small colony called Tinleaf. Strictly speaking, they are one of the luckier ones. They live in the south, and are a close-knit colony of mostly friendly folk. There is no local warlord to enslave them, and there is usually just enough food and water to prevent everyone from dropping dead of starvation. Usually. Every morning the people of this colony wake up to see the mountains on the western horizon. Perhaps there are some among them that dream of crossing them one day. Maybe there’s a better life on the other side of those rocks.

The younger folk of this colony know nothing of the time before the dry wasteland around them. Most of them don’t care, they only worry about food and water. Why should they long for more? But, there are some who do. Somewhere deep inside they feel an emptiness. Is it in their hearts? Their souls? Either way, all they know is that when they listen to the old blind man tell stories of a time when he could see — when the grass was green, the trees were lush, and the wind whispered sweet nothings into his ear — their heart begins to race and their palms become sweaty. Is it excitement or fear?

Then, one afternoon, the rain watcher comes running into the middle of town. He is out of breath and his eyes are wide. Is this the day their entire life ends? The people fearfully crowd around the man as he pants. “Is it a warlord?” they ask. “Is someone here to enslave us all?”

“No.”

Just as the rain watcher catches his breath, a faint light can be seen bobbing on the horizon. People gasp, they run and hide to watch from the safety of their homes. Others remain rigid in the center of town. The light draws closer. The people of the town hold their breaths as they watch the figure of a man step out of the darkness. The bright light is coming from a staff he is holding in one hand. It is just as refreshing as it is blinding. He walks into the middle of the crowd and his staff dims to a warm glow. The people of the town crowd around him.

“Forgive me for startling you,” he said in a deep voice. “My name is Nikolas Alexander Ivanson, and I am here to repair these lands.”

There is silence among the crowd. No one knows what to say first. But the man continues speaking. He explains that he knows of the old ways, and also knows of a way to bring back the fields and forests. But why he is here, wasting his time in this small colony when he could be out doing the great things he speaks of? People begin to murmur among themselves, suspicious of this stranger. Then, his voice becomes low.

“Sadly, I cannot do this alone,” he says.

A hushed silence falls over the town.

“Is there anyone who is willing to come with me? To fight for the life of these lands?”

------------------------

[Rules]

Advanced roleplayers only!
No Mary-Sues, Godmodding, or OP characters.
No Smut.
2-3 paragraph minimum per post.
Must have proper spelling and grammar.
(More rules will be added as needed)

If you have any questions, ask the GM.


------------------------

[Plot]

The goal of this story is to rebuild the wasteland. It is set in a Post-Apocalyptic StamPunk Fantasy world, and everything will be told in a series of episodes or chapters. Each chapter will have a specific goal in mind that will be accomplished by either a single string of quests, or one major quest line.

The actions our characters take in this world will have an impact upon everything. This plot is about adventure, discovery, action, and restoring the wasteland to its former glory.

I will control the pacing. This is a world shaped by choices, and I intend to place our characters into situations where they need to work together in order to survive.

------------------------










------------------------

[About your GM]

I’m 22 years old, Male, and a recent college graduate. I roleplay as a hobby, but I write as a career. I have been roleplaying for a solid 7+ years now, and I have experience doing group work.

If you have any questions, or are interested, let me know! This RP is probably not going to officially start for another week or so, leaving us plenty of time to work out kinks.

Cheers!
In Format Testing → 9 yrs ago Forum: Test Forum
[The Wasteland]


No one knows what caused the world to burn away the way it did. Some blame it on the avarice of man, digging so deep that a great evil was unleashed. Others simply think that whatever gods exist out there became tired; disenchanted with the world that they created and have decided to start anew. Only it wasn’t quick like one might think an apocalypse should be. No, it was like smoldering embers against the skin, burning and stinging long after the coals are removed.

First, the forests died, and the very essence of magic itself evaporated away. Illnesses spread, killing off thousands until just a handful were left, and a silence descended over the land like a sheet. Then, the rivers dried up, the seasons disappeared, and dry heat reigned supreme. People dispersed into clusters and clung to what life they could. They held on with farming for a while, but eventually their cows lay dead among crumbling fields of wheat. Finally, the clouds covered the sky like a black tarp and people couldn’t even feel the warmth of the sunlight on their skin. The nights became frigid while the days remained just as hot as ever. From then on, people existed in a dim haze. Then, it began to rain. Instead of water, black tar-like liquid fell from the sky. When it touched their skin, it burned, and when it fell into their eyes, they were blinded. People scrambled for shelter, and killed each other just to get out of the rain until it stopped.

This is the world now. The people have become scavengers, thieves, bandits, and warlords. But only the most ruthless are able to rule, and they are almost always cruel. They enslave people to dig and build for them, constructing ziggurats and monoliths out of the bricks of long dead kingdoms. These people cast themselves as gods here to save, when their only true intent is to oppress.

------------------------


------------------------


Then there’s the small colony called Tinleaf. Strictly speaking, they are one of the luckier ones. They live in the south, and are a close-knit colony of mostly friendly folk. There is no local warlord to enslave them, and there is usually just enough food and water to prevent everyone from dropping dead of starvation. Usually. Every morning the people of this colony wake up to see the mountains on the western horizon. Perhaps there are some among them that dream of crossing them one day. Maybe there’s a better life on the other side of those rocks.

The younger folk of this colony know nothing of the time before the dry wasteland around them. Most of them don’t care, they only worry about food and water. Why should they long for more? But, there are some who do. Somewhere deep inside they feel an emptiness. Is it in their hearts? Their souls? Either way, all they know is that when they listen to the old blind man tell stories of a time when he could see — when the grass was green, the trees were lush, and the wind whispered sweet nothings into his ear — their heart begins to race and their palms become sweaty. Is it excitement or fear?

Then, one afternoon, the rain watcher comes running into the middle of town. He is out of breath and his eyes are wide. Is this the day their entire life ends? The people fearfully crowd around the man as he pants. “Is it a warlord?” they ask. “Is someone here to enslave us all?”

“No.”

Just as the rain watcher catches his breath, a faint light can be seen bobbing on the horizon. People gasp, they run and hide to watch from the safety of their homes. Others remain rigid in the center of town. The light draws closer. The people of the town hold their breaths as they watch the figure of a man step out of the darkness. The bright light is coming from a staff he is holding in one hand. It is just as refreshing as it is blinding. He walks into the middle of the crowd and his staff dims to a warm glow. The people of the town crowd around him.

“Forgive me for startling you,” he said in a deep voice. “My name is Nikolas Alexander Ivanson, and I am here to repair these lands.”

There is silence among the crowd. No one knows what to say first. But the man continues speaking. He explains that he knows of the old ways, and also knows of a way to bring back the fields and forests. But why he is here, wasting his time in this small colony when he could be out doing the great things he speaks of? People begin to murmur among themselves, suspicious of this stranger. Then, his voice becomes low.

“Sadly, I cannot do this alone,” he says.

A hushed silence falls over the town.

“Is there anyone who is willing to come with me? To fight for the life of these lands?”

------------------------

[Rules]

Advanced roleplayers only!
No Mary-Sues, Godmodding, or OP characters.
No Smut.
2-3 paragraph minimum per post.
Must have proper spelling and grammar.
(More rules will be added as needed)

If you have any questions, ask the GM.


------------------------

[Plot]

The goal of this story is to rebuild the wasteland. It is set in a Post-Apocalyptic StamPunk Fantasy world, and everything will be told in a series of episodes or chapters. Each chapter will have a specific goal in mind that will be accomplished by either a single string of quests, or one major quest line.

The actions our characters take in this world will have an impact upon everything. This plot is about adventure, discovery, action, and restoring the wasteland to its former glory.

I will control the pacing. This is a world shaped by choices, and I intend to place our characters into situations where they need to work together in order to survive.

------------------------










------------------------

[About your GM]

I’m 22 years old, Male, and a recent college graduate. I roleplay as a hobby, but I write as a career. I have been roleplaying for a solid 7+ years now, and I have experience doing group work.

If you have any questions, or are interested, let me know! This RP is probably not going to officially start for another week or so, leaving us plenty of time to work out kinks.

Cheers!
In World War Kaiju (OPEN) → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
@datadogie

Unfortunately, it might be a while because we're waiting on me right now. I still have some character sheets as well as exams that I'm in the middle of.

Sorry, mate.

In World War Kaiju (OPEN) → 9 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Hm, looks like I'll have to change my character sheet. I've been planning on being the Lead Engineer for this project. Oh well, I suppose. It's going to be a while before I'll be finished.
In Let's B!tch. I feel it's a healthy release for our roleplay annoyances 2.0 → 9 yrs ago Forum: Roleplaying Discussion
@Pair of Hearts@Faded Memory

I'm happy to help. If you ever want any tips on what I've learned. Just PM me.
In Let's B!tch. I feel it's a healthy release for our roleplay annoyances 2.0 → 9 yrs ago Forum: Roleplaying Discussion
@Faded Memory

I used an online thing called Inkarnate. It's a simple tool (it's still in Beta) but it's free and easy to toy around with until you get something that looks good. If you just play around with it, you'll eventually find something that works for you.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet