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Majora's Revenge





The land of Termina has always been a dangerous land of turmoil and endless hazards. Legends tell that long ago, when humans tried to settle here, their limitless greed, their unnatural magic and insatiable hunger for conquest disturbed the sleep of the land's goddess. It is said that she woke, and in her endless wrath she threw the moon from the sky, crushing the human settlers. After vanishing their civilisation, the goddess restored what they destroyed, corrected what they had changed. She restored balance in Termina and disappeared to sleep once again.

Many centuries later, humans settled again in Termina. Over the course of many years, they built a giant castle and attempted to turn the hostile flora and fauna inhabitable, with sword, staff and trickery. But to no avail. It's like the land itself simply refused to give in to civilisation. No matter what animals they brought with them, the local fauna disallowed it to fit in. The plants they brought all withered as if the ground gnawed on their roots. In the southern forests, the air hangs heavy with poisonous vapors from toxic swamps. In the north, a massive magical anomaly, a bastardisation of a volcano sits atop a vast mountain range, freezing every traveler to death who dares to approach. To the west lies an ocean full of mysterious creatures who drag every seafarer below the brines that dares to even build a raft. And in the north, the ancient ruins of a long lost kingdom lie, haunted or cursed by unknown horrors, swallowing any hope of an expedition whole. No roads last in this land, and the only way the castle has held this long is through extensive magical warding that burns deep into the land, searing its inhabitants. Humanity has fought for survival over many years, but the more valiantly they fight to prove their worth in the lap of Termina, the more angrily nature strikes back. Their magical ressources are dwindling. Their warriors exhausted. They chose to live under these vile conditions not any longer.

Their last option is to purge the land. To cleanse it with a massive spell of destruction that will extinguish all life outside the castle walls, together with Termina's vile natural predators and vengeful spirits of lost civilisations. Like they always have, humans will overcome. With technology and magic, they will ravage and rebuild when reform is ineffective. They will rip out the lands rotten core and mend it.

But Termina will not go down without a fight. It is said that in the darkest of nights, when the crimson light of foreboding destruction reflects in the swamps of death, the bittersweet shallows in the west and the deadly glaciers of the northern mountains, the tribes, spirits and creatures converge. They will heed the call of Majora. They will unite and go on a journey to awaken the goddess that is the land. And when the goddess walks her land, she will reclaim it for her children.





Greetings, all ye who made it this far.


This roleplay is my own alternate-timeline re-interpretation of both the setting and the story of Majora's Mask. It is loosely based on a scenario where the mask "won" and reinvented Termina to its liking, rewriting the history of the land and ascending into self-imposed godhood. Ultimately creating something resembling a natural balance. The current time of the RP will be at some indiscreet point in time after a civilisation of humans arrived in Termina and successfully managed to erect a large capital/castle approximately where clock town used to be. Their "technology level" is approximately where Majora's Mask was at, but these humans brought a lot of standard-fare wizardry with them. Think fireballs and lightning bolts.

However, the players will be the inhabitants of the land instead. They will fight to restore Termina's natural, post-majora state by awakening the god-entity from its infinite slumber. All of this will have an even darker tone than the original Majora's Mask had, think of a land that has existed under the rule of an evil god-entity for centuries. There will be a heavy focus on traveling, adventure, interaction of beings that usually don't coexist, combat and stealth. Because those humans actually have the upper hand in direct confrontation, the party will need to play their cards right to succeed.

The starting point of the RP will be the night when the human mages start channeling their apocalyptic spell, which will take about a week or two to complete, possibly more depending on circumstances and actions taken by the player party. Players will be able to choose their characters from the three major races - think Deku, Goron, Zora as a general pointer, but they will be a very different re-interpretation of those folks, designed by Majora itself (which means me, basically). I will provide lots of details about this in the OOC. There will also be a fourth race, which evolved from the evil spirits in Ikana valley, but I'm not exactly sure yet if I'd want them to be playable. In addition to the two major parties lined out here ("team majora" and the humans/mages) there will also be a third faction, based on the civilisation that got crushed by the moon, but their affiliation is unknown and they shall remain a wild card for now.

The ultimate goal of the party will be to fulfill a prophecy that is said to awaken the goddess and requires them to travel a couple of places, and I bet you can all guess which ones I'm thinking of.




Obviously, this is the IC-section. This is meant to scout out if there would be interest for one such roleplay. It's not all planned out yet since I'd like to see if it's reasonable to keep working on this idea, but I have a lot of neat things floating around here. Make sure to ask about things I left unclear as of this point. I'm also expecting a couple of "that's not how the story went you bastard" type comments. Looking forward to it!

I am also still looking at this with shifty eyes, but I can't make promises yet since the character idea I have in mind is sort of elaborate and terribly impractical. It sort of depends on how well I can bring this thing to life and whether the abilities that come with it are acceptable.
Mr. Spades had been an early bird to the party at hand. He'd been one of the first guests at the table, if only just barely, but it allowed him to preemptively muster and judge everyone before Mikkish had the chance to start flinging words and phrases across the room. The suited man did so with a smile, as per usual. A smile that was almost a trademark, no matter how hollow and dishonest it came to be. As the round of introductions began, he had the pleasure to confirm whether his first impressions were accurate, which was always great fun.

The blue-eyed girl turned out to be a cryomancer, how fitting, he thought. Even without her abilities, she appeared like the coldest spot in the room anyway. The stoic, disinterested eyes told a silent story, one of parental neglect maybe, possibly betrayal or a long history of lost loved ones. He had assumed that her heart might be locked in a proverbial ice coffin, but for it to be a literal one was a bit beyond what he suspected. For shame, the unapproachable ones were usually hard to faze, unless one stumbled into their big red 'DO NOT PUSH'-button.

The one he mindfully dubbed 'dolly' showed a little more promise as she spoke up. Since her arrival, there seemed to be something off about her. Something he couldn't quite lay a finger on. She seemed like a woman either too old for her appearance or too young for the way she moved about. His first assumption went along the lines of a spoiled brat with rich parents, but the way she moved and gestured was too smooth for a pampered bitch. The way she expressed herself confirmed this second impression about her, as she was outright dignified, a trait her age group was usually completely void of. The way she made clear that she considered herself way above the wealth surrounding them with the tone of her expression alone made his fake smile grow considerably wider and less dishonest for a moment. This was the kind of fire he enjoyed stoking so much, and with Miss Hendrix 'the walking ice pack' around it was an outright heartwarming discovery. Learning that she was a telepath didn't dampen his mood in the slightest. Although it would make it a little difficult to hide his intentions from her, it wasn't impossible to still get from point A to point B, and he loved a good challenge. That little spark of hostility in her eyes didn't escape Ryan's attention, and put the proverbial cherry on top of this tart. He would have to be rather careful with his thoughts around her...or maybe not at all?

The voice of the rather huge man sort of surprised him. For some reason, he didn't take note of the guy up to this point, thus he had no pre-introductory opinion to confirm or disprove, which was sort of telling in its own way. The guy had a rather weak presence, despite his size. Or maybe he was some sort of shadow-mage. Or maybe Ryan was so preoccupied comparing glacier and brimstone over there that he simply got distracted. The big guy revealed so little about himself that Ryan actually pinned a mental note to the 'shadow mage?' section of his memory wall.

Since Mr. Shady seemed finished enough, Ryan considered it to be his turn. He rose from his seat nearly opposite of their host and tipped his hat, only to make himself look like even more of a douchebag than he already did. This also revealed more of his bilious green hair. "Ryan Spades. Here to lend my expertise as an investigator and hemomancer to this wonderful little troupe, it appears." His gaze went across the room once, establishing eye contact with everyone ever so briefly, in an attempt to measure how much disdain he had earned yet. He quickly added a cheery "So nice to meet you." that would be mostly genuine, but an observant telepath would undoubtedly pick up on the underlying layer of sarcastic glee that filled his mind like poison soaked cotton stuffing. As he sat back down, Spades wondered what exactly caused Callahan to gather such a diverse group of glorified scoundrels. Particularly since one of the present attendees of his little congregation made the man almost flinch with anger, just by the mention of his name. But as long as some good old murder was involved, he wasn't one to let a generous offer pass, even if it was for an ultimately righteous cause.
I whipped up a thing. Let me know if this would fit in with everything, whether it needs fine-tuning or plastic surgery.

It is posted in the characters tab since everyone posted up their CS drafts before approval over there. Apologies if I misunderstood the procedure.

I have inserted myself into the situation, as there seemed to be no fixed order of any sorts~


Still accepting one more person. For now...


Is this still true? Because this is quite interesting. And being a horrible person is kind of my thing.
Demons, half-dragons, sci-fi-samurai? Getting shadowrun vibes here. Interest piqued.
I feel like the way I expressed myself was misleading. I didn't mean to imply actual werewolf/vampire crossbreeding. I was thinking of a bog-standard one-or-the-other-not-quite-sure-which-one-yet, but who's more familiar with human company than that of their own kin.
I was asking whether it would be possible/normal for singular wolves or vampires to live with a group of humans instead of a pack/coven.
I've been creep-watching this for a bit. Interested and about to hop off the fence, but still not fully there yet. Just letting you know.

Possibly stupid question: Since Anarchists are likely to ally up with werepuppies and suckers, is it possible for one of those two parties to be part of the anarchist movement? Or are all remaining werewolves in packs/vampires in covenants? I'm thinking of maybe rolling with a batwolf or werepire who's running with the anarchists, if that is a thing. Obviously the whole "knows how to craft weapons and armor" thing wouldn't apply. They'd be like a more effective hunting dog/cat.
Possibly. Maybe not.
Stun silently observed the events unfolding on the planet surface without as much of a comment, or even a blink. It had the cannons under its command primed and lined up, waiting for the command to fire, remaining oblivious to Aylvs reaction upon its unelegant arrival at the bridge.

It did take note of the "Yiss!", signaling an overly emotional response to the eye-piercing arrow hit, however. The Pho Arghos had observed a variety of alien races show this kind of behavior in the middle of combat, and while it didn't entirely approve of euphoric overreaction during crucial combat situations, it has come to accept and tolerate over the decades.

It kept watching ground teams successful extraction due to the distraction a single fighter managed to produce, and when the small ship turned into a ball of dissolving, burning metal, Stun produced a brief clicking sound. It knew next to nothing about O'Hare, never had a connection to her, they barely even exchanged words since Stun's arrival on the Monroe. The clicking sound was the closest thing to regret a Pho Arghos would express, but this was not necessarily regret over the loss of a life. It was more likely regret over the loss of a capable pilot, of a potentially talented soldier Stun would never get the chance to exchange war stories with or fight alongside. That, and the loss of a fully functional ship. Among others of the Pho Arghos race, this was an unusually sentimental gesture, and Stun wondered for a moment whether the biological's nature had finally rubbed off, reminiscing of countless deaths it had witnessed without the slightest twitch of an optical nerve.
Then the moment was over, and the hybrid pushed itself to renew its focus.

Stun noted the increased emotional turmoil of its fellow crewman shortly before Kaite fired three bursts of artillery and produced an electric noise as it evaluated the situation, formulating its own reaction to this. When, against all probability, no hectic orders and rebukes came through the comm channels, it decided against berating the Aylv and instead continued to formulate the appropriate status reports.

"Three percussion rounds inbound." Its clinical voice came through the comms, disturbing the shocked silence. "Three confirmed hits. Target retreating."

The hybrid kept its attention on the information feeds until the shuttle reached the Monroe. Deciding that the primary target was unable to pursue in its current state, Stun returned its unused cannons back to standby. It loosely noticed the state Kaite was in and decided not to interfer, knowing that it was likely the least suited out of all the Monroe's personnel to offer emotional comfort. 8-Ball included.

The sound of the bridge doors opening, followed by the captain's presence however brought movement into the Pho Arghos' frame and within a second it was next to the Aylv, standing to attention. Since Kaite had already said everything and Stun didn't intend to needlessly point out the missing fire order, it simply stood there in silence.
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