Eccentric_Undead
Oddity is the mother of creation. Be weird.
What a weird cat child. He shall be fun!
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Fantasy Café Presbytery Character Sheet
- Thread starter Eccentric_Undead
- Start date
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- original characters
What a weird cat child. He shall be fun!
Name:
The Last Devil Mite Hive
Nickname:
Bai
Age:
The hive had existed for a whole century
Race/Species:
Devil Mites
Gender:
99% Male, 1% Female
Gender Identity:
(They/Them)
Sexual Orientation:
Asexual
Appearance:
4cm in length, 1 inch in height
8cm in length, 2 inches in height
Personality:
The Last Devil Mite Hive, who is simply known as Bai, is a hivemind of the Devil-Mite species. They are a coordinated working group as they consist of thousands but follow a single mind that allows them to act effectively, making them appear to be a single-minded unit. Despite their inability to speak, they are still able to socialize with other people. Using their pincers, they can harmoniously click to express an answer, idea, or feeling. Softer clicks may show approval or comfort while harsher clicks show disapproval or aggression. More complex ideas can be expressed through various ways, like forming themselves to create a shape or circling an image or item to show what they desire, want, or what they're warning other people.
Being part of society and following social cues is not easy for the hive, as they have only been recently conscious, at least at the same level as other people. Though they're able to follow simple orders, their social and wisdom intellect is similar to what a child may have, perhaps even lesser. They're more than happy to learn, however, especially if it helps better communicate and interact with the other workers within the cafe. They see them as friends due to the fact that they have not tried to exterminate them or set them on fire.
Backstory:
The Devil Mites species have been causing trouble for the agriculture community. Due to their diet consisting of flesh, they have been feasting on cattle from farmers. This had never occurred before but due to the lack of predators that we're able to keep the species in acceptable numbers, they had grown and spread. As expected, this was extremely damaging for the agricultural community and demanded something to be done about these horrific pests.
In response, A program was declared, which was called "The Devil Mite Extermination Program." It encourages citizens to go out of their way and exterminate as many Devil Mites as possible. The more hives exterminated, the better. The movement was in full swing and soon people with an affinity to fire magic were in the works, using their magic to set the hives to inflame to prevent a single one from escaping. Scientists, alchemists, and artificers alike invented new tools, concoctions, and weapons that better track down and eliminate the species.
Dozens and dozens of different hiveminds have been lost with finally the Devil Mites' Hive count was been close to zero. The program was a success and agriculture was safe again, but for the Devil Mites...it was a genocide.
One hive of the Devil Mites had survived, however. The hive worked effectively, able to outsmart and outwit their exterminators. They were far more intelligent than the average Devil Mite hive, to the point they have recognizable thoughts and consciousness. The hive can't live their life as they were before the extermination, as they would just be hunted down again. They needed to live among the thinking species, follow the social constructs of society so they aren't killed.
The hivemind evolved from insects following instincts to a thinking being. Integration into society wasn't easy of course, especially with people's bias against them. It seemed to no one was willing to accept them...until they met Jason.
Jason actually saw tehm as a thinking being, not just pests to step on. His ideology of equality was perfect for them. They quickly gravitated towards the man, seeing him as their very first friend. Jason gave them a home and a new purpose in the cafe. Soon they weren't just a carnivorous species that consumed with no thought, they were a busser in a cafe, no different than the other workers.
Position in Café:
The hivemind works quickly as a busser. Soon as a dirty table is spotted, they swoop in while carrying clean utensils to clean out the table and replace it with what needed to be replaced. Of course, they do get judging and even disgusted stares from customers. They are often seen as dirty or untidy, despite the fact that they are thorough on their cleanliness.
They have been thinking of changing their job, not wanting to upset customers and possibly damage the cafe's reputation.
Magic if Applicable:
n/a
Relationship Status:
n/a
Extra:
-Only eats raw meat.
-If the queen dies, the species will soon perish.
-The queen constantly births new workers every couple of days as the workers don't have a long life. By next month, all of the workers people may have become familiar with have passed, replaced by new workers.
-They eat their own dead workers.
Theme Song:
Eccentric_Undead
Oddity is the mother of creation. Be weird.
My most beautiful insect child!......... children? Who cares? I love them still.
Eccentric_Undead
Oddity is the mother of creation. Be weird.
I see. My issue was how to make this applicable to this really laid back story. It's not gonna be a lot of drama, but if you want this, you can keep him.
EDIT: Hold on guys, we are in discussion over this.
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Ronsies
BLACKJACK!
Really? Bruh. Sorry, not sorry this is a red flag.
Eccentric_Undead
Dun know if this translates over from tabletop RPGs but for female tabletop gamers this is a No fullstop. Yeah, I read the sheet and its well done, but I am seriously uncomfortable with the char.
ThePrime
New Member
Sorry wasn’t really sure how else to capture the creepy gaze of A boogieman. No worries ill gladly remove him.Really? Bruh. Sorry, not sorry this is a red flag.
Ronsies
BLACKJACK!
Bruh. That is top notch. Much respect and thanks. i seen this happen in DnD when I was still new where creep thought he could be creepy cus it was 'his character doing it'
ThePrime
New Member
Well i had listed him as asexual in an attempt to avoid that. The character is meant to be a literal walking nightmare so it was never a sexual leery gaze, more like a “you just had a nightmare and im the cause.” I figured being a Boogieman that made sense.
sorry you had to deal with that. Hope you enjoy the rp.
starstucker
Member
name:
vinyl
nickname:
cassette (it’s the name they put on the nametag. don’t blame them dude),
peach (reserved for their little sister and their favorite coworkers)
little dove (actually nobody is allowed to call them this. /j)
age:
physically? 24. spiritually? they lost track.
race/species:
(white) witch—asian descent
gender:
non-binary
gender identity:
they/them
sexual orientation:
omnisexual + polyamorous
appearance:
mhm. its my highest kin. so what. (iykyk. hmu if you know the fandom he's from.) he is my little meow meow and i can use him as a face claim if i so please. (think longer hair that curls at the base of their neck and softer-colored attire & features.)
personality:
looking for a soft hearted honeypot to brighten your night? look no further than cafe presbytery’s very own vinyl. with a sweet smile and a welcoming demeanor, they're a pleasant face to see at the bar. well...for the first hour or so of work. they can come off as rather offstandish or nonchalant—excessively so, mostly due to their tendency to rely heavily on a time-saving gesture that involves the middle finger—but they'll swear on every last yard of silk they can spin that they don't have any malicious intent. they're quick with wit and they enjoy banter, but they've seen enough in their lifetime to know how to read a room and back off. they're a very decisive and clever person, every move careful and precise, and they're a skilled pickpocket if it ever comes down to that. on the off chance that anyone wants to know, they enjoy the company of those who like to indulge in sweet toffee cakes and long conversations.
they personally enjoy sweet foods—to an excessive degree, but even they have their limits—and being gifted with peonies. they hold themself with a grace and calmness that might be thanks to the effects of threading their fingertips through the moon's rays one too many times, but one can never be sure. the light that they absorb tends to frame their profile like a halo—except on their bad days, when they're absorbing all of the natural lightning in the area and letting sparks loose from their skin; after the due apologies, they like to joke afterward that their touch is quite literally electric. if anyone were ever to give them a bouquet of peonies or a homemade pastry or two, they'd feel no shame in saying that they'd happily treat that person with a free drink or a friendly little kiss on the cheek in return—although the kiss doesn't have to necessarily friendly, or little, or on the cheek; at least, if their interest and the other party's consent deems it so. the way to their heart is through their mind, of course, but a few gifts never hurt.
backstory:
well, that's a little personal, now, isn't it? they'll spare some of the details, regardless if you want them to or not, but they were born in a quiet little town not too far from the area where the cafe resides, in a quaint little neighborhood where every street corner smelled of baked goods and the roofs of every house resembled the caps of mushrooms. they themself lived in a house that smelled of tangerine slices and floral perfume and had the roof of a wrinkled peach mushroom, and every day was filled with the laughter of their little sister and the feeling of soft, small hands bandaging the cuts and burns on their fingers after a long day spent weaving.
but that was all taken away from them in a way that physically pains them to recall, so i'll spare you the gory details and just say that there happened to be a rather sizable forest fire, and the little mushroom roof neighborhood was unfortunately part of the foliage at the time. with nowhere else to turn, they sought protection with nothing in their arms but their little sister's trembling form and their magic little pair of gloves, the ones that helped them from accidentally leaving long tendrils of thread woven from the moon in their wake, or perhaps the crumbs left from the stars if they were ever so clumsy. they met the owner of cafe presbytery on the corner of a street most colorful, with brilliant lanterns strung across the trees that lined the sidewalks and a pretty stave mounted in the sparkling concrete, decorated with fun garlands and twinkling little lights.
as marvelous as it all was, they didn't truly take relief in the fact that they'd found a new home until they did find somewhere to stay, a place that never stayed in one place very long and smelled like velvet wallpaper and powdered sugar. it wasn't ideal at first, but when their sister had been tucked in safe and sound and they finally got time to decorate past the job they'd managed to score—what a warm day that was, like the embrace of a mother's arms or a particularly warm blanket. they finally made the place into their own personal sanctuary, a safe space for those with nowhere else to turn to, with gauzy curtains and speckled white walls like the shell of a robin's egg. it wasn't perfect and it wasn't a white picket-fence two-story house, but it was home.
position in café:
for the most part, they’re found in the bar, experimenting with new ingredients that they come across, be it a fun new type of berry in a most peculiar shade of pink or a few drops of sunlight that they managed to collect when the clouds were particularly thin. when they’re not working on whimsical concoctions that—more often than not—ease the nerves of their customers, however, they can be seen weaving tapestries to hang around the cafe, mending the curtains or the clothing of any employee or customer who approaches—and can pay the price; they’re not a freebie, after all—or collecting new ingredients to play around with in the comfort of their home. where their home is, even they have no idea—it comes and goes as it pleases, only showing its face in a particular kind of map that they own; all they can be sure of is that it never strays too far from the cafe. they don’t really mind—it’d just get boring taking the same route home every day.
magic if applicable:
well, magic is what landed them a job in the first place. from spinning the rays of moonlight that shine from the gaps in their gauzy curtains into soft silk for their tapestries to plucking little tufts of cloud from the sky during their downtime when they're running particularly low on ice—storm clouds are their favorite; they have a particular cooling agent that no other cloud can match—they're very connected to the world around them. they prefer the more ethereal of elements to toy with, reasoning that the flavors and colors simply work better together in the drinks they mix and the fabric they weave together. of course, it isn't exactly solid reasoning, but it's probably best not to try and argue with the witch with a short temper and a tendency to spark when they're irritated.
relationship status:
currently single, but if you’re looking for someone to warm your bed? well, talk them into it, and they won’t mind spending the night with you. as long as you pay in the morning, of course.
extra:
despite the attire they can make that borders on costume wear, they've never liked to dress lavishly—just a warm fur-lined shawl to keep them cozy during longer walks home will do.
theme song:
song? sweetie, i’m a chronic overachiever, i’ve got a playlist.
vinyl
nickname:
cassette (it’s the name they put on the nametag. don’t blame them dude),
peach (reserved for their little sister and their favorite coworkers)
little dove (actually nobody is allowed to call them this. /j)
age:
physically? 24. spiritually? they lost track.
race/species:
(white) witch—asian descent
gender:
non-binary
gender identity:
they/them
sexual orientation:
omnisexual + polyamorous
appearance:
mhm. its my highest kin. so what. (iykyk. hmu if you know the fandom he's from.) he is my little meow meow and i can use him as a face claim if i so please. (think longer hair that curls at the base of their neck and softer-colored attire & features.)personality:
looking for a soft hearted honeypot to brighten your night? look no further than cafe presbytery’s very own vinyl. with a sweet smile and a welcoming demeanor, they're a pleasant face to see at the bar. well...for the first hour or so of work. they can come off as rather offstandish or nonchalant—excessively so, mostly due to their tendency to rely heavily on a time-saving gesture that involves the middle finger—but they'll swear on every last yard of silk they can spin that they don't have any malicious intent. they're quick with wit and they enjoy banter, but they've seen enough in their lifetime to know how to read a room and back off. they're a very decisive and clever person, every move careful and precise, and they're a skilled pickpocket if it ever comes down to that. on the off chance that anyone wants to know, they enjoy the company of those who like to indulge in sweet toffee cakes and long conversations.
they personally enjoy sweet foods—to an excessive degree, but even they have their limits—and being gifted with peonies. they hold themself with a grace and calmness that might be thanks to the effects of threading their fingertips through the moon's rays one too many times, but one can never be sure. the light that they absorb tends to frame their profile like a halo—except on their bad days, when they're absorbing all of the natural lightning in the area and letting sparks loose from their skin; after the due apologies, they like to joke afterward that their touch is quite literally electric. if anyone were ever to give them a bouquet of peonies or a homemade pastry or two, they'd feel no shame in saying that they'd happily treat that person with a free drink or a friendly little kiss on the cheek in return—although the kiss doesn't have to necessarily friendly, or little, or on the cheek; at least, if their interest and the other party's consent deems it so. the way to their heart is through their mind, of course, but a few gifts never hurt.
backstory:
well, that's a little personal, now, isn't it? they'll spare some of the details, regardless if you want them to or not, but they were born in a quiet little town not too far from the area where the cafe resides, in a quaint little neighborhood where every street corner smelled of baked goods and the roofs of every house resembled the caps of mushrooms. they themself lived in a house that smelled of tangerine slices and floral perfume and had the roof of a wrinkled peach mushroom, and every day was filled with the laughter of their little sister and the feeling of soft, small hands bandaging the cuts and burns on their fingers after a long day spent weaving.
but that was all taken away from them in a way that physically pains them to recall, so i'll spare you the gory details and just say that there happened to be a rather sizable forest fire, and the little mushroom roof neighborhood was unfortunately part of the foliage at the time. with nowhere else to turn, they sought protection with nothing in their arms but their little sister's trembling form and their magic little pair of gloves, the ones that helped them from accidentally leaving long tendrils of thread woven from the moon in their wake, or perhaps the crumbs left from the stars if they were ever so clumsy. they met the owner of cafe presbytery on the corner of a street most colorful, with brilliant lanterns strung across the trees that lined the sidewalks and a pretty stave mounted in the sparkling concrete, decorated with fun garlands and twinkling little lights.
as marvelous as it all was, they didn't truly take relief in the fact that they'd found a new home until they did find somewhere to stay, a place that never stayed in one place very long and smelled like velvet wallpaper and powdered sugar. it wasn't ideal at first, but when their sister had been tucked in safe and sound and they finally got time to decorate past the job they'd managed to score—what a warm day that was, like the embrace of a mother's arms or a particularly warm blanket. they finally made the place into their own personal sanctuary, a safe space for those with nowhere else to turn to, with gauzy curtains and speckled white walls like the shell of a robin's egg. it wasn't perfect and it wasn't a white picket-fence two-story house, but it was home.
position in café:
for the most part, they’re found in the bar, experimenting with new ingredients that they come across, be it a fun new type of berry in a most peculiar shade of pink or a few drops of sunlight that they managed to collect when the clouds were particularly thin. when they’re not working on whimsical concoctions that—more often than not—ease the nerves of their customers, however, they can be seen weaving tapestries to hang around the cafe, mending the curtains or the clothing of any employee or customer who approaches—and can pay the price; they’re not a freebie, after all—or collecting new ingredients to play around with in the comfort of their home. where their home is, even they have no idea—it comes and goes as it pleases, only showing its face in a particular kind of map that they own; all they can be sure of is that it never strays too far from the cafe. they don’t really mind—it’d just get boring taking the same route home every day.
magic if applicable:
well, magic is what landed them a job in the first place. from spinning the rays of moonlight that shine from the gaps in their gauzy curtains into soft silk for their tapestries to plucking little tufts of cloud from the sky during their downtime when they're running particularly low on ice—storm clouds are their favorite; they have a particular cooling agent that no other cloud can match—they're very connected to the world around them. they prefer the more ethereal of elements to toy with, reasoning that the flavors and colors simply work better together in the drinks they mix and the fabric they weave together. of course, it isn't exactly solid reasoning, but it's probably best not to try and argue with the witch with a short temper and a tendency to spark when they're irritated.
relationship status:
currently single, but if you’re looking for someone to warm your bed? well, talk them into it, and they won’t mind spending the night with you. as long as you pay in the morning, of course.
extra:
despite the attire they can make that borders on costume wear, they've never liked to dress lavishly—just a warm fur-lined shawl to keep them cozy during longer walks home will do.
theme song:
song? sweetie, i’m a chronic overachiever, i’ve got a playlist.
Last edited:
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