shadowz1995
Amoeba of Wisdom
Because it doesnt make sense for a light user to have an ability that nullifies lightning. Only earth could theoritically have something like that. So no.And how so?
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Because it doesnt make sense for a light user to have an ability that nullifies lightning. Only earth could theoritically have something like that. So no.And how so?
Because it doesnt make sense for a light user to have an ability that nullifies lightning. Only earth could theoritically have something like that. So no.
This isnt D&D.That actually was just picked up from the D&D 5e book, but as you say, pal.
Say, anything like a cleansing fire, or an insect plague, allowable?
Hm.... I think that's more of a Dark thing than Earth honestly.Plague of insects? No. Thsts a dark or earth ability
Yes but earth is CAPABLE of it. Considering insects are earthly beings.Hm.... I think that's more of a Dark thing than Earth honestly.
This isnt D&D.
Cleansing fire, yes. Its called Bane fire here. Which is basically a holy flame. Im surprised no one from the light uses it.
Plague of insects? No. Thsts a dark or earth ability
Acceptado
Abilities:
Sun Spheres - Pia is able to create floating orbs of light that mimic the power of the sun. They can be used as what they are, a light source, or as a weapon. Their power and whether or not they are mobile is manipulated by how much will and focus Pia puts into them. She is able to produce more than one at a time.
Transformation - Pia can call upon her demon heritage to transform. Thanks to her grandmother on her father’s side being a weather demon that can assume the appearance of a dragon, Pia can as well. When in dragon form she has the ability to fly and has increased strength and size. She is 7’0” and weighs around 1,000 lbs when in her dragon form.
Sun Scorch - Using her light abilities she can heal, but it’ll hurt. Embracing the power of the sun, Pia is able to heal external wounds but not cure toxins or heal internal damage unless it originated with an external wound.
Bane Fire - Another healing ability that harnesses the power of the sun to cure toxins, blights, miasmas,
and corruptions. Burns in white, gold, and blue hues.
Blade Dance Over years of practice with a sword, Pia has become quite skilled in sword play and through grace and agility, has developed it into an art form.Name: Cassiopeia of House Magnares
Age: 126
Gender: Female
Species/Race: Half Demon
Job: Royal Botanist
Alignment: Neutral
Kingdom of Origin: Dark Kingdom
Appearance: Pia has long, wavy, rose gold colored hair that reaches to the middle of her back. Her eyes are white with a gray ring around the iris and gray pupils. She has light pink skin that darkens as it gets closer to her fingertips/toes before ultimately becoming dark red. All of her markings are light purple and aside from the simple bands around her wrists, she also has similar ones around her ankles, thighs, and the base of her tail which is long, smooth and slender. Her tail also darkens as it gets to the tip as well as her ears which are slightly larger than a Human’s and pointed. The large ram horns on her head are gray in color. Her teeth are normal except for her laterals, cuspids, and first bicuspids on the top which are sharp as well as her cuspids and first bicuspids on the bottom.
She is 5’8” and weighs 160 lbs. She has a curvy figure accentuated by her lean muscle and she tends to only wear relatively loose fitting and flowy clothing as she doesn’t like to be hindered by tighter clothes nor inconvenienced by it because of her tail. She likes wearing lighter colored clothing rather than darker and she prefers gold, brass, and steel to other metals.
Weapons/Armor:
Personality: Pia can generally be considered to be a pretty vibrant individual. She isn’t what would be called a wallflower when she is around others, she’s as sociable as the next girl and when she is socializing she could be said to seem to enjoy it but the truth of it is that for her, interacting with others is another form of play. She likes to tease in one form or another and she likes playing actual games as well.
When Pia is alone on the other hand or when she doesn’t have anything that requires immediate attention, she tends to be rather lackadaisical. She has trouble getting motivated to actually do something and would be just as content if not more so, to lay on the swing in the solarium where she grows the more exotic of the plants in her care and gazing at the sky above or admiring the gems in her private stone collection.
However, once she does get motivated to actually do some work or when it is necessary that she work with care she can be extremely focused and dedicated to the task at hand, even expressing some exuberance in her efforts. She tends to be easily distracted at times, but that’s if the item in question does not require detail. The more detail that she needs to apply or the lengthier the project is, the more interested she becomes.
History/Bio: Around two hundred years ago an idea was born to a Demon. This Demon was Deshwitat L. Rubdich and the idea that was born to him was one that said that his people, no, all people that were cast out by those that thought they were better, deserved their own place. They deserved to be treated like living beings and not just something to be discarded.
As Lord Rubdich began his campaign for the rights of his people and others that were thought of as nothing, amongst those that followed him as he amassed his armies was a demon by the name of Enyalios of House Magnares. While Enyalios’ father had no interest in any of it just because he didn’t care and his mother was perfectly content with her nomadic way of life, Enyalios had high expectations for the campaign, if anything just to help his leader make a place for their people.
For over fifty years, Enyalios served Lord Rubdich in any way that he could, eventually becoming an emissary to the other dark races. He was collecting allies and spreading the word on what was being accomplished and it was during one of these missions that he stumbled upon a lady of the light.
Her name was Alisae Dauphine and she was a blazing example of what followers of the light should be. She was kind-hearted with a gentle soul. She spoke warmly to everyone she met and always treated others with generosity. A devout follower of Luminosity, she didn’t live in Alisette, but travelled between the smaller villages spreading the word and helping the people in any way that she could. She did on occasion leave the kingdom to spread the word of light in other lands. At time she was ridiculed and at others she was taken to kindly, others learning to rejoice in the light as she did. It was on one of these excursions that she met Enyalios. She didn’t flee from him in terror, nor did she treat himself or his comrades with disdain. She treated them with the same kindness she had treated so many others before. In her eyes, they were all creatures of the light, no matter if they spent their lives in darkness and ridicule.
Enyalios had never been so taken with a creature in all his life and was completely taken in by her beauty both externally and internally to the point that he offered to be her escort and help her travel the kingdoms as that was what he was meant to do anyway. With some hesitation, she eventually accepted his offer and after some time, their fondness for each other grew into something more.
The initial goal to better the situation of their people by helping Lord Rubdich then became more personal. Enyalios wanted a place where he and Alisae could safely be together and have a family without persecution for the union. Though the birth of their daughter, Cassiopeia, preempted the vision of a proper home. Needless to say that despite being virtually marked a heretic and disowned by her own family for falling in love with a demon and baring his child, the goals of Lord Rubdich also became Alisae's, though she would not live long enough to see them realized since she was only mortal.
While her mother was alive, Cassiopeia, or Pia as her loved ones affectionately began calling her shortly after her birth, was instilled with the values that her mother had developed with time. She didn't look on other creatures with a discriminating eye, in fact, she actually seemed to treat them with some indifference and it became evident that she had a preference for plant life and shiny things like gemstones. It wasn't that she was unsociable, she was friendly when she did talk to people, she just seemed to enjoy her solitude more than she enjoyed being with others.
As they traveled from land to land and waited whenever Enyalios went into battle for the cause, Alisae learned little things about her daughter such as the fact that while she carried some of the demonic traits of her father physically, she had also been blessed with the gifts of the light like her mother.
Alisae taught Pia to use her gifts and helped her discover what they could be used for. Pia learned that her gift was from the sun and could be used to help her plants grow. She had begun collecting vegetation from the various lands that she traveled through with her family, harvesting the seeds and keeping them safe so that once they made their home, she could maintain a beautiful garden and help provide food for the kingdom as well as herbs needed for healing.
One hundred and seventy years into his campaign, it happened. Lord Rubdich was true to his word and he finalized his plans. Creating a safe haven for all who were like Pia and her family. Alisae had long since passed and when they buried her, Pia planted a tree seed over her grave, hoping that her mother would live on through its roots, soaking up the sun’s light. Standing in the newly founded city of Daemonus Dommus, remembering her mother and wishing that she could be there that day, Pia wept for joy in her mother’s place.
When Alisae had died, despite how distant she had acted when Pia asked about her family, Pia decided that she wanted to see the kingdom of light and so without permission from her father, she made the journey to discover what it was like. Of course her horns stood out and so she broke them off and filed them down, covering the nubs with her hair and a hooded cloak. She had come to realize that many thought she was blind because of how her eyes looked and so she had mastered the art of pretending she actually was, essentially hiding her demonic appearance and looking more like a beggar as she hunched over and wandered through the kingdom.
Her opinion of the light kingdom didn’t improve that day. She didn’t understand how they could be so strict and discriminating against others. The stark contrast between the majority of the citizens of the kingdom of light when compared with her mother was utterly shocking to her. She had thought they would be as warm as Alisae. She had been named for their capital city and it made her wonder how she could be named for such a place that was so closed off. She left the kingdom with her hopes dashed in a way, but she resigned herself to not let it faze her. She decided she would be like her mother and use her gifts to benefit all regardless of species or creed.
When she returned to her father, he was highly upset that she had shaved off her horns. Of course they would grow back but he was disappointed that she had cut them for such a thing as to go to a place where she had been told they were not welcome. Though he was just glad she was safe because she was the last piece of Alisae and his only daughter.
Now Pia spends her days tending to the royal gardens, specializing in foreign vegetation which she cultivates for use throughout the kingdom. She collects new plants whenever they are needed to keep the plants pure and producing properly and uses her gift of harnessing the sun’s power to help the gardens grow.
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Prerequisites
Name: Jean Morynth Gavinsworth III
Age: 52
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Kingdom of Origin: Elysium
Occupation: Former King
Appearance:
Persona
Abilities:
Lithe: Jean is extremely quick and extremely limber; so able is he in his usual ventures, that many fail to notice his presence. The old man can move around with elaborate quietness and decisive speed — not to mention, he's also devilishly good at parkour, and is known to be quicksilver fighter.
Fighter: He's not a joke, faux swordsman — he's the opposite of a joke, faux swordsman. He's a masterful, artsy swordsman. Few have truly opposed him, or downright challenged him to a duel, and those who did have met the pointy end of his blade — usually their very last meeting in the entirety of their life, really. His genius regarding a sword is extreme, thoroughly extreme.
Wily: While not natural at historical categorizing, or pure strategizing, Jean was gifted with a sharp mind since the day of his birth, able to quickly organize dashing, devious plans with great, reckless ease. Additionally, the man is also gifted with an accountant's wisdom, able to talk in many languages, adopt accents, and calculate large figures.
Knife Enthusiast: He has a great many pairs of knives, a few standing out deliberately, that he can, and does, use with great efficiency; he's extremely good at throwing them, changing them to and fro, or more unusually, torturing people with them.
Thief: Setting aside his daily schemes of grand larceny, Jean's particularly skilled at the finer points of thievery, and of course, disguises — so much, that he's amassed a fair bit of coin, aside from the ones earned through his regular 'games'. He can put on riveting disguises, realistic personas, but those usually fail to his boldness.
Magick skills:
Empyrean Vindication: Calls forth a bolt from the azure skies, of pure and almighty scale, to smite the evildoers and pretenders with, and if possible, render them into many smithereens. By adverse probability, it professedly only works amongst open fields without any form of tough roofing. Additionally, it demands a hellish amount of stamina — which the old geezer rarely provides, or cares to provide.
Celestial Manus: Conjures from the astral body a controlled shoot of lambent radiance, which shrouds an arm of his choice in a thick veil of light, priming for a single strike of any desirable effect — at its best, it's capable of tearing apart the innards of any armoured beast, and at its least, it nullifies the senses and stuns a poor soul to unconsciousness. It takes its share of toll depending on the power used, and this fact alone tends to annoy the oft readily annoyed Jean.
Fulmination: A blast of bane fire to keep away the condemned, and curse them to death. Lights the air around him sweltering with burning light — disintegrates men dumb enough not to duck, and more dumber enough to advance upon him. Generally undetectable upon activation, and only identifiable by the glimmering air towards the end of the spell.
Carte Blanche: Frees anyone, or even a whole group, from the demonic effects of mind control — affects himself as well, making him immune to mind control, or any sort of passive, steady enchantment.
Exodus: Summons a psychic slit of light, bringing outward the assistance of the angels from above, which beams him directly to a location of his wish — within a set boundary of median span, of course — phasing through any obstacle. Each stretch takes about a fair amount of stamina, but can be used consecutively.
Fulgor: A runic lode that, a subtle glyph visible only to his fair eyes, can be planted in the ground. Its sole mission is to create an explosion — and in any parameter, power or type that Jean wishes — that can either break apart static obstruction or organic obstruction. It is rather subtle to the eyes, and therefore, quite less visible.
Personality:
Jean is, admittedly, a very smarmy man — drenched in various sorts of oil, overconfident in his wickedly stalwart acts. Acts which can better be identified as stunts of tremendous audacity, leaning boundlessly towards ornery bedazzlement rather than actual utility. The former king's infamy — or not, seeing that nobody really knows him — additionally lies in his near-obsessive nature of boasting about his indomitable wits, and which are, doubtlessly, an exaggerated feature of his own creation. Consumed by his own shell of dumb self-serious density, Jean likes to believe that he's of the dashing sort, and while he does possess a few gentlemanly traits, he's far from being a smooth operator.
His various, laughable yet grandiose capers scarcely work — but when they do, they work brilliantly, a fine courtesy that belongs solely to his wily smarts. Credit could often be given to the king for that, but unfortunately, he ruins that virtue simply with his sore losing; even at the brink of loss, Jean tries to muster up enough sweet lies to believe that his antics are — instead of lackluster — brilliant and genius, gravitational works. This fulsome propriety is only surpassed by his brutal ruthlessness, and they aren't afraid to inter-mix every now and then. His anger intermittently remains hidden, though by means of deliberation, only seeping out in the form of an acerbic tongue and a bitter affinity for violence. A queer result it is, his fruitless attempts at concealing his various grudges with deathly stunts soon finalized with the denouement that his grudges were to be borne with relative ease — and still are given birth with superior, miasmatic quality. Jean is bothered by that, but not in a moralistic sense, no.
The old man possesses a pernicious, gross and bearably self-centered demeanour. This bearish cadre of traits ofttimes swerve into an overconfidence which hardly ever fails to play into his various petty oversights. Jean's liberal usage of his own personality, and his subsequent narcissism, is tinged subtly with a compulsive need to see all muddy situations through and through and carefully 'equalize' them — more often than not, these are just overtly justified attempts to fix his personal issues and to secure his own well-being. Although he does fall victim to his gracious honour code every now and then.
All these traits, and a few other vices of gruesome nature, compile to make him one very spiteful man, who regards each execution with recklessness and without a second thought — in the process, ruining the capacity and potential of his cunning intellect.
Still, in spite of his wild nature, he has a modest litany of virtues; he admires the concept of camaraderie, and while he's an uncontrollable liar, he's always a reliable friend; he's determinate and industrious, his productivity never ceasing to vanish until the time of his objective's completion; his bold audacity, that while a flaw in some parts, can also serve to be a rather good trait; he's, also, flashy, extremely flashy. When he cares to brood during his more quieter moments, he tends to express a rare moment of solemnity — a morose glimpse at his past self — and it certainly isn't unsurprising to see him acting like this, which mostly happen during less-quicksilver events — during slow-burning quagmires, usually.
But, all in all, he's a great fighter and a crude con.
History:
Morynth was born in the monarchical regime of Elysium, during the petty wars that took place during the world scar, to one really ranked person: the king, and his wife too, the queen. Amidst tense straits, one filled with harsh pettiness and boorish dealings, he was only merely lucky to find himself in the hands of the shielded royal family, under protection of the stalwart royal guardsmen and the utterly loyal men. Back during those weird days, a child might find the prospect of being born to a noble family, the most noble family, a very delightful idea — perhaps, even embellish the theory with a garden of sorts, abundant with decorous flowers and gaudy fencing.
Jean would've very much liked to disagree.
The royal family maintained a level-headed disposition in front of their subjects — it was a casual, unspoken tradition that ran in all kingdoms and clans, supposedly to assert one's leadership and maintain it rigorously — but behind the thick curtains, the stoic facade, there were affairs of even more taxing status. The king was dying, afflicted with a disease unknown to the lightern physicians. Even the pacxians, bold nomads skilled in the art of organic repairs, failed to identify the withering attacks this strange disease was unleashing upon him.
Thus, there were great strains and bothersome worries planted upon the arms of Jean, who took it with little question — but, still, it would've been a bold-faced lie if it was to be said that he enjoyed the riveting coming of the great responsibilities a king had to bear. There were only few who could enjoy a childhood torn asunder by the growing face of danger, of sheer responsibilities. The people knew Jean's unease, the fact that he loathed his duties — his many regulations. But, whoever would dare to speak up to the crazy, hasty king? Nobody, nobody at all.
Even the queen scorned her eldest son, favouring her younger ones, fiddling with them till they spoiled and turned into mud: pure, glorified mud. His sister, usually dolled up, always taunted him, with no end or anything. His brother did the same too, except many times worse. Jean shrugged off all these problems, and tackled all his own concurring issues with all the efficiency he could muster, a kid could muster. Jean was a good kid, well mannered, and he learned things quickly. He fought off every hurdles his trainer had lain before him, and every finicky details his mother had shoved to him; and he did them well, very well. But his father neither cared, nor did he even aspire to care — each one of their meetings were brutally pragmatic, each act weighed with practicality rather than emotions. His mother was far more worse, and while his father liked to stray on the neutral lines, his mother liked to 'discipline' him on a regular basis — a flaw in his finesse usually meant a flaw in his mentality.
His mother liked her younger kids, never Jean. Each task she gave him were accompanied with harsh verbal abuses — it was a way for her to release her own grief, her bugging stress, that the light kingdom, all of Elysium, had to bear during this phyrric war..
Thus, Jean progressed, his disdain for his father and his mother growing ever so slightly and so on. His brother, the muddled mouche, grew up a brat of viciously dumb standing — nothing better to add oil to Jean's steadily increasing fury. His sister, ever the salty bitch, started to downright ignore him, her haughty attitude growing and growing. Jean anger grew, but he had to bottle it all up, in the name of the people, of Elysium, of this godforsaken religion.
As time went on, Jean's studies gradually shifting from physical machinations to magic; for the first time, his younger brother too was subjected to training, and that gave Jean a semblance of pleasure. But all was not well for Jean, for his self-made pride was only short-lived. A month of amelioration, and a dashing comparison between him and his brother, and the trainers soon discovered, and the people too because it was rather obvious, that Jean was lagging behind in terms of magic. Although, magic is most certainly a difficult thing to master, even for naturally-gifted royalty, things were going extremely slow for Jean, it seemed. Shit cascaded, and thing went through more things, and all Jean earned was a fistful of spittle from his father.
His father, in a desperate attempt to save face and to compensate for his weak magic, worked him hard on his physical conduct, forcing him to develop his physique at an even quicker rate. His sister progressed to more serious affairs, Jean likely only a distant memory in her minds, as she got to amble about the more serious courts. His brother dawdled about, only teetering near the edges of death by Jean's own hand. And his mother discontinued even seeing him, much less talk to him.
Jean became bitter, and still as dumb as he could be. As anyone could be. As any royal could be.
Jean studied though, as much as he could, piece after piece enough to fake perfect composure even when things weren't pretty. His father's health started to decreased rapidly, and then on, then on, till he was dying and only barely struggling to write — he assigned his mother to the regent council, one of his more 'trusted' man to act as the new hand, and booted Jean towards the throne. You could certainly imagine the man's dull surprise, but it was to be expected, though unfortunately. It wasn't an easy start, rather, it was more a rude awakening than anything. Jean was put to task, forced to answer the wavering problems his subjects had to bear, and the many conundrums which regularly smote the army.
His hand, his advisor, Matthias, wasn't of either sound mind or was he skilfully chosen — the king, in the single most dumbest mistake in his entire life, had chosen one of his war buddy for a hand. An old friend, but an old friend that wasn't to be trusted. Unbeknownst to the King, who was now perfectly drained of life, the hand was supremely warped and greatly evil.
Matthias taught Jean all the wrong tactics, wrong moves, that he didn't know himself. Jean, being dumb, messed up and slipped off. Wars were lost, men were killed; the common people started to doubt their king. Matthias, in a final coup de grace, advised Jean to follow his men to battle, a monumental battle, to regain the favour of the people. It was a mimicry of the days of the old, when the braver, able kings would heroically lead their men into battle — there are few who could doubt the amount of fame one could receive from such an act.
Thus, Jean was sent, packed up and wearing ten different kinds of cloaks, towards the edges of the Biverne riverine, a strategic point for the LK during the world scar, set on the fringes of LK. More clumsy leadership, and he had sent his best men to flank the enemies, leaving himself and the worst to weakly guard the front. Meek and pathetic, the arriving forces had their own ideas — they went around the edges, piercing through the flank, in a delusional interception. The flanker flanked, Jean was defeated but not before he recklessly challenged one of Desh's champions to a duel — a duel to determine his fate.
The tides of the battle started out strong, Jean practically seeping out vigour as he followed strike with strike, but unfortunately, the force of his attacks soon shrunk away; the dread knight slowly began to achieve his victory, landing kingly blows and fluid grapples before finally shoving Jean to his loss with a tremendous slice. In one fateful move, Jean was wounded and fell to the ground, hesitantly yielding.
Having won, the benevolent Desh had other plans for him. He wasn't any killer, no, he wanted to show the world his faux brilliance; he forced Jean to throw away his throne, letting him live and without restraining him to thralldom, leaving him with a tarnished, exiled status.
He moved away, soon assimilating into the common people after his incidents were largely forgotten, his utterly charismatic brother having take his place. What happened afterwards were unrecorded.
But he's largely thought to be dead.
Misc.
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Weapons/Armor:
Totem: A curved, single-edged sword that reaches up to a length of two metres, bending ever so slightly as it stretches. The blade itself, the primary component of the sword, is a glistening silvery white — the metal reaches down and ends with a tang, oddly classifying it more as a knife then a sword. The tang is sandwiched between two wooden slabs of thin stature, fixed with rivets and bolts that were smoothed to fit the hilt's linings. The two-handed hilt extends to a visible crossguard, with a small appendage jutting out from the right side (the edged side) which is intended to safeguard the wielder's hands. A hat-shaped pommel, that leans forwards towards the striking edge, rests at the bottom of hilt. A markedly noticeable feature of his blade is the vibrant burgundy shade of the wooden parts, clashing against the brass-like flourish of the tang, pommel and the crossguard.
Tempus: A lithe, dusky stiletto meant directly for stabbing. The weapon bears no significant edge except for its pointy end; in terms of design, the knife is given a slender, triangular design accentuated on the flat sides with small protrusions — it resembles, loosely, a pyramid or a ziggurat. The blade's narrow cross-section and acimunated tip is designed for maximum lethality — with enough force, it can rightly pierce through full plate. The weapon itself is of a black colour, glossy and apparently meant to show off a bit, given a midnight tinge to it.
Vernum: Four needle-like knives, of size that could be easily concealed and thrown — they're attached to thick yet limber chains for proper re-usability. The blades are recognizable by their bronze finish, with small crescent crossguards and pommels — facing each other, not in reverse.
Other:
Nicely done. Accepted. Lets see wgat you do
Perfectly fine. AcceptedName: Tsubasa
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Species/Race: Human
Kingdom of Origin: Arashi
Abilities:
Electrical Discharge - Tsubasa can shoot lightning out of her fingertips or grab an opponant for a direct discharge.
Sparking Fireworks Shot - A trick arrow shot. Tsubasa focuses lightning magic into the point of the arrow before firing. The arrowhead will explode in a bright flash upon striking a surface while stunning anyone in a small radius.
Two Steps, Three Strikes - Much to the surprise of almost everyone in her training group, Tsubasa was able to master this difficult technique. By focusing lightning magic into her wakizashi, the blade would begin to glow and hum slightly. That is done in the first step towards an opponant. As the next step begins, the blade is primed for a stab. The second step is a lunge and thrust. A split second before the thrust connects, the lightning is moulded into two blades of pure lightning magic. If done properly, there should be 3 puncture wounds that look vaguely like the claw marks on the Arashi symbol. Tsubasa only uses this as a last resort as it severely tires her.
Hawk's Thunderbolt - Tsubasa's signature technique similar to Hanako's Tree Splitting Strike. Tsubasa focuses her aim on a single target as wings of pure lightning magic manifests from her back. Upon releasing the bowstring, the energy is transfered into the arrow, enveloping it completely. The arrow has enough power to punch through a rock, a person in full samurai armour, and a wooden shield before stopping. Rarely used due to it taking a long time to fire off and tiring Tsubasa out.
Samurai Training - Tsubasa has received the same training Hanako did and her senses are sharp. In the case of weapons usage, she is proficient with bows and short swords but prefers keeping some distance between herself and the enemy.
Personality:
Tsubasa is the less serious one between her and Hanako. Cheerful, bubbly, and often worrying about people. She acts as the cheerful motivator during her time in training and tends to act like an overbearing mother or older sister when it comes to their personal health. Her spirit is also hard to break and is rather infamous for having a slightly cheerful smile while the others are exhausted.
Beneath her kind exterior, she exhibits the mindset of a cold and calculating marksman. She has used her fellow samurai as bait to draw out enemy bowmen or mages but she does attempt to make sure her bait lives. In any case, she only displays this sort of behavior in times of danger and going back to her cheery self once the danger has passed.
History/Bio:
Tsubasa's tale is one of courage and hope. Born as the one and only child of an already middle aged couple, Tsubasa was seen as a godsend after multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. They were thankful that Tsubasa grew up to be a healthy and cheerful girl and doted on her. Her father, a former Samurai archery instructor until he lost his left hand, taught her the basics of archery ever since she was 5. Or at least he attempted to. Her mother, a simple seamstress, taught her some folk songs, a lesson that Tsubasa clearly enjoyed over archery. Her life was rather boring due to how many boys there were in her part of the town. Although it was thanks to the influence of her neighbour's kid that led to her wanting to be a Samurai when she turned 7. It was on that day that she met her future sister-in-arms, Hanako.
Her time in training was interesting to say the least. She, along with the other recruits, were whipped into shape. Had the code of Bushido and a sense of Loyalty to the King drilled into their heads. Once their body and mind is honed, they were thought the way of the sword along with other combat arts. In Tsubasa's case, her father's attempt at teaching her archery did help and she took to it like a duck to water. Besides that, she was also one of the rare few recruits that managed to pull off the Two Step, Three Strikes technique, earning her the position of Squad Captain. Having earned the respect of her peers and finding a person that she trusts to watch her back, Tsubasa enjoyed her work and did her best.
However, things turned sour when her former Instructor, Hijikata, and his entire squad was found assassinated while on border patrol. To make things worse, something seemed to snap in Hanako and Tsubasa was well aware that her sister-in-arms might do something suicidal. To her shock and horror, Hanako cut all ties and vanished one morning with only a hidden note addressed to Tsubasa. It explained her actions and begged for her to keep it a secret. But Tsubasa's loyalty to the King was strong. She kept the note a secret but she volunteered to personally search for Hanako and to bring her back. Alive, or just her head.
Job: Samurai Guard Captain
Alignment: Lawful Good
Appearance:
Weapons/Armor:
Tsubasa wears standard samurai armour sans facemask as it inhibits her aim with her bow.
Tsuki no Yumi - Tsubasa's personal bow. It was a gift from her weaponsmith uncle after she became an official samurai.
Taiyo - Tsubasa's personal wakizashi. Its of common make with no distinguishing features.
Yugure - Tsubasa's personal tanto. It was a present from Hanako and made from the leftover material from Biriyari's broken blade, giving it good elecrical conductivity. It is both a sister sword to Biriyari-bou and a symbol of their friendship.
Other: Very partial to umeshu despite being a lightweight. Also enjoys umeboshi but dislikes overly sweet things. Is also a good singer.
Accepted but i need you to know that your getting away with these short CSs because these characters are the way the are. Please be careful with thatView attachment 304914
Name:
Ningyo Masume
Age:
23
Gender:
Female
Species/Race:
Human
Kingdom of Origin:
Not Affiliated
Abilities:
Killing Intent User: The power of demons, granted to those who possess humanity, possibly stripping it in the process.
Zanku Hinotama:
Ki Based energy, turned in a spherical projectile. This variant of the Hinotama can be done in mid-air.
Kaen Ken:
Punches the opponent rapidly at blinding speeds with Killing Intent engulfed fists.
Personality:
Ningyo is like a samurai, being always serious and very stubborn, not even understanding what a joke is. She has a firm duty and never forgets a received favor.
History/Bio:
The daughter of who is only known as The Dictator. Ningyo was born in to the art of Killing Intent as a child. She has strived to become better than all that was in Shi, only to find them dead in the long run. Ever since the deaths that came to her allies, she has craved the same vengeance her father has. Since then, she has grown. She wouldn't let it bother her as much now that she's an adult. She would continue to serve Shi until she is incapable.
Job:
Assassin of Shi, Partner of Reijingu
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/threads/seiunita-characters.328306/#post-7779311">Seiunita Characters</
Alignment: (e.g. Chaotic good)
Chaotic Neutral
Appearance:
Ninja mask, beret, Ninja outfit, Black short hair
Weapons/Armor:
Martial Arts
Other:
Listen boy.Wait, what? She gets contracts from Shi, how is it self contracted?
Also, claiming the entire look of a ninja is like locking the entire section of "Ninjas and Samurais" down unless you're Arashi.
If you're saying a clan is based off of an entire stereotype then you're limiting freedom for other players who like to make these characters.
If you need more detail, I can do that. I'll do it right now, but it sucks when you limit an entire stereotype
I wasn't disrespecting anyone, if I was, it wasn't intended. I'm just being more straightforward than other people are when they talk to people, because that's who I am.
Yeah, also if she wasn't going to be approved, she could have been an NPC anyways.Listen boy.
Aint nobody and I mean NOBODY more straightforward and blunt than ME in this bitch. So take a seat and listen up because ima bout to tell your ass how this is gonna go.
Nova says all samurai, ninja, whatev the fk japanese stuff is from Arashi or arashi related. That is HER kingdom and everything within it or related to it is hers to control.
She's bein nice but I wont.
Put the woman in different clothing or she doesnt come into the roleplay. Period.
Also, on an unrelated note, put a post with a character without my or Juju approval and I will take it down without warning.
Are.we.clear?
WELCOME TO DA COOL-KIDS LUNCH TABLE!Name:
Eris Rubdich
Age:
150
19 in human years
Gender:
Female
Species/Race:
Demon
Kingdom of Origin:
Dark Kingdom
Powers:
Hellfire: Eris has the power to wield demonic flames like her parents. They burn green and black, and is similar to the flames her parents wield. Her flames are powerful like abyssal fire with the manageability of wildfire. Although her flames are not as strong as her parents yet, they are growing in strength.
Necromancy: Eris has the power to summon demonic creatures to her side using her blood and will. Those who doubt themself or forget who they truly are will lose control of these creatures and they will no longer listen to orders, causing them to desummon, or in the worst case scenario, attack their master. They most commonly appear as undead creatures or skeletons.
Shadow mist: Eris is able to create a black mist that acts as a smoke screen.
Shadow wielder: Eris is able to create shadow like creatures to aid her in battle. She most commonly uses them as a horse for riding.
Demon physiology: Eris has increased stamina and hearing.
Summon Weapon: Eris is able to form a solid weapon out of shadows.
Personality:
Eris is a calm and peaceful girl. She understands her responsibilities as princess, and accepts the fact that she will be the next queen of the Dark Kingdom. She is so focused on becoming the perfect queen for everyone, that she often forgets to have fun or that she can't be perfect.
She is focused and cares deeply about her citizens and wishes to be the best queen for them when her time comes to take her place on the throne. Eris pushes herself to her limits to impress everyone and keeps any negative feelings inside as to not burden those who care about her.
She loves her parents deeply and understands the role she plays in the kingdom's success. Eris is a great listener and will do her best to help anyone she can. She will train till she succeeds if she is having trouble mastering anything. She thinks failure isn’t ever an option for a future queen
History:
Being the daughter of two powerful archdemons, Eris is a living miracle. By all known knowledge of the demon lifecycle, she should not be alive.
It is vastly known that demons are powerful beings, and their biology has developed in a way to maintain the number of archdemons within the population. Most archdemons are made, the demon gathering power as it ages to transcend its previous limitations. Very rarely are archdemons born and even rarer is the mention of archdemons mating successfully. This is not due to infertility… the problem is that the mother demon usually dies during pregnancy.
When in the womb, demon offspring require a steady supply of magic to sustain their growth and the development of their own magical pool. If the supply dwindles, the child will drain away the life source of their mother, killing her if the child’s magical abilities surpass her own. The offspring of two archdemons often leads to this.
Eris nearly left the kingdom without a queen but through luck, sheer willpower, or a combination of both, the end result was the first documented living child of two archdemons.
She was born during the Dark Uprising, and was old enough to participate in the Battle of the Scar. In the recent years of peace she has spent her days preparing for when it is her time to take her place as queen.
Job:
Princess of The Dark Realm
Alignment:
Appearance:
Weapons/Armor:
(Her wings and horns)
(Her Armor)
(Her casual outfit)
(Her weapon)
(Her horse)
Name:
Rolen Galenodel
Age:
33 years of age.
Gender:
Though somewhat androgynous in his features, Rolen is undoubtedly a man.
Species/Race:
Flame Genasi (elementally touched mortal).
Kingdom of Origin:
Fire Kingdom
Abilities:
Racial Abilities:
Skills:
- Call Flame: By calling upon the elemental energies living within him, Rolen can summon small flames which he has absolute authority over.
- Insulated: Ronen's physiological make up allows him to be completely resistant to fire and extreme heat. So much so that he has actually stopped bathing in water and instead cleanses himself in fire for a significantly deeper clean.
- Darkvision: With eye's that glow like molten gold, Rolen can see up to 60 feet in complete darkness. Beyond that things become hard to distinguish.
- Feverish Warmth: Rolen's normal body temperature is significantly hotter than most mortals, so much so that the air around him is noticeably warmer. This makes many people uncomfortable in his presence.
Spells:
- Mind of the Strategist: Rolen's tactical prowess has been honed over years and years of war. At some point in his life, Rolen had forgone the need for basic human interaction and instead treats every conversation like a battle of its own. You can be sure that throughout the conversation the man is saying just the right things to draw information out of his "opponent", plotting in his mind an A-Z list of ways he can end their life without lifting a finger.
- Eyes of the engineer: Years and years of study has lead Rolen to becoming a master at his craft. His craft of course being the construction of terrible war machines for The Great Fire Kingdom.
- Simple and Finesse Weaponry: Although he never uses them, Rolen has been trained in the use of simple and finesse weaponry. He carries on him a rapier and dagger, though he probably won't have need for them anytime soon.
Personality:
- Sweeping Cinder Strike: A gout of flame erupts from Rolen's hands, spraying the nearby vicinity with red hot fire.
- Dominate Person: By simply speaking a command, Rolen can capture the mind of another, taking them under his thrall. Though this spell only lasts 24 hours, Rolen frequently uses this spell to condition his slaves, slowly breaking their minds into total subservience.
- Feeble Mind: A spell that temporarily destroys the mind of another. It is exhausting to cast, but is useful when wanting to immobilize a subject entirely.
- Abi-Dalzim’s Horrid Wilting: Rolen chooses a point that he can see within 150 feet for the spells effect to take place. Every entity with in a 30 foot area of that space slowly looses all the moisture in their body, drying them up like a raisin. One of the more powerful spells under Rolen's belt, it is subsequently more exhausting to cast.
- Hypnotic Gaze: Using his soft words and enchanting gaze, Rolen can magically enthrall another creature for short periods of time.
- Alter Memories: This gives Rolen the ability to make a creature unaware of his magical influence over them. When Rolen casts an enchantment spell to charm one or more beings, he can alter one of the creatures understanding so that it remains unaware of being charmed. Additionally, once before the spell expires, he can to try to make the chosen creature forget some of the time it spent charmed.
Rolen is, at his best, cruel, and at his worst - and I mean this in the informal sense of the definition - psychotic. He is the type of man who always gets things his way. However, I encourage you not to mistake him for being the posh rich man sort, the sort of person who gets things their way through their status and money. You see, unlike the posh rich man, Rolen is quite used to being told "no", he just doesn't care. There really is no point in saying that word to this man, because if he wants something he always seems to mysteriously have it by the end of the day. He's resourceful and crafty, slippery and mischievous. To him, you are nothing but a tool for his own personal use, a hoe used to tend the fields, and if he finds you are defective, he will give no thought in disposing of you and acquiring a newer and better version. Of course, you would never actually see him hoeing fields. That would be absurd. He'd much rather command his legion of slaves do the work for him. Not only would it be more efficient, but he would also reduce the risk of ruining his perfect hands, hair and clothes. You don't keep your image as immaculate as his by farming.
You may have heard in rumors that Rolen was once poor, a simple scoundrel living in the slums with nothing but the clothes on his back and the filth under his nose. And while that may be true, it certainly didn't leave any emphatic impression on his moral code. Many people who start off low in the social ranks and establish themselves later tend to pity the lower class. Not Rolen. For the most part, this man treats each person he meets the same; cold and detached, heartless and unfeeling. However, it's not until Rolen interacts with his slaves that his true sociopathic tendencies begin to show. But what he does behind closed doors is none of your business, and trust me, you wouldn't want to know anyway.
There are few people whom Rolen does not treat like a play thing, this mainly being Grimgutz, the Fire Slayer. Though he is a sociopath, Rolen knows his boundaries and has a surprising amount of respect for the War Boss.
History/Bio:
Rolen's sad history starts off like any other might. He grew up in the slums, nothing but a simple street urchin with next to nothing to his name. He had no special abilities, or incredible talents at the time, he was a human back then. It's the same sob story we've all heard hundreds of times before. However, unlike most of his fellow delinquents, Rolen did not wallow in filth for long. I won't spend too much time on it, as his life as an urchin left hardly any meaningful impact on his current life, however there are a few important things to note, the first of which being Rolen's cruel nature. Although being a street rat left Rolen jaded and terribly cynical, and anyone you talked too would confirm the boy had the potential to be cruel, he never was by any means malicious. Yes there was the possibility for all of his bottled up hate to spill out, but one thing always kept him in check, and that thing was important point number two. Important point number two is unique in many ways, but most important about important point number two is that it is a woman. Althaea, a charming young elf with a nasty habit of thieving, was like Rolen in many ways, for she too was in dire straits and she too thirsted for power. Having these two things in common, it was only logical that they teamed up. Trying to build an empire together would be much easier than doing it alone, which brings me to the next important point. On Rolen and Althaea's way up the ladder, the two had decided that nothing was off limits. Though they did not actively seek to hurt others, that was sometimes a consequence of their actions, and they could not look back when it happened. However, if things ever got too intense for one or the other, all they had to do was say the word and they would back out. These were the only rules of their ascension, and the latter of the two was used only once, however at that point it was already too late.
As I've brought up before, Rolen and Althaea were on their way up the in the world. Starting in the filth of the slums, the two would not stop in their conquest until their hands could rake the skies. You see, the scoundrels had planned for some time to become the most powerful beings in the world, and they would stop at nothing until they had achieved exactly that. They were building an empire, making all the right connections in all the right places and accumulating as much wealth as possible. Their plan was to become so powerful that they were essential to the world in every sense imaginable, stretching their roots out into the soils of the kingdoms, slowly becoming it's support. They would become unto gods and in that way, a necessity to the universe. They would have no allegiances, but every kingdom would be scrapping at their feet, begging the all powerful beings to ally with them. And then one day they would vanish, leaving this world so they could dance amongst the stars. That's what they always said, "dance amongst the stars". It started out as a simple poetic phrase, a tangible name for a seemingly intangible goal, but eventually it gained literal meaning. They would become powerful and essential, and then leave, and when they left and everyone wondered where they went - chaos and panic sure to follow this confusion - Rolen and Althaea would be ascended, laughing and dancing in the heavens. They would be there, in the dark parts between the stars, waltzing away with knowing grins on their face. No they would never say it, because if they said it then it would no longer be true, but they knew that they had done it. Can't you picture them now? Althaea's soft and nimble steps, partnered with Rolen's cool and calculated prance, the feint music of angels filling the air. Meanwhile, below them, discord erupted all over the globe, war tearing the earth asunder. That was their disillusion quest, and their demented visions of the world filled them with jubilation.
What a wonderful vision it was. So wonderful in fact, that sometime they could hardly contain themselves. Excitement often getting the better of them, Rolen and Althaea's spare time would frequently be spent practicing their dance, finding a ball to attend and stealing the show with their magnificent art. Taking to the floor, the pair were like nothing you'd ever seen before, careening through space as if they were forces of nature, unstoppable and to be respected. And when their dance finally came to an end, and when the crowd that had gathered - awestruck by the grandiose performance no doubt - clapped, the two would laugh. They would laugh, not out of joy, but because of the irony of the situation. 'Look at them! Look how they clap for their demise! Idiots, fools, dolts, the lot of 'em!"
Yes. That would be a fitting punishment for the world. The kingdoms would pay for their cruel injustices, for none of them were guiltless in the hell that their world had become. But Rolen and Althaea would never quite reach their goal. Some bad choices were made. Ruins were found, pacts were made with forces they did not understand, and when Rolen said things had gotten to be too much, it was already done. They both had changed, physically and mentally, but Althaea had the worst of it. It broke Rolen's heart to see her the way she was. It had all crumbled in their hands, their dreams slipped away like sand running through their fingers. Nobody knows what happened to the two after that. Many assumed them dead,erased from the earth even, but years later Rolen resurfaced, now working for Grimgutz. No one knows his agenda, or his intentions, but it appears as if he honestly respects the great King, always doing as the Ork commands, always plotting on behalf of the Fire Kingdom.
Job:
Head War Tactician/Chief Engineer.
Alignment:
Neutral Evil
Appearance:
With perfectly browned skin, a slender jawline and eyes like molten gold, Rolen could easily be regarded as a beautiful man. It's easy to see that the Flame Genasi takes excellent care of himself, always keeping his flame like hair stylish, feminine hands well manicured and devilish smile charming and white.
Weapons/Armor:
Rapier: Much like a poisonous insects has bright colors to warn other creatures of it's dangerous nature, Rolen carries on his belt a Rapier. Though it's not what he'd use in a battle, tending to lean more on his magical prowess, it does still function.
Dagger: Just a dagger. It's hidden in his boot. I don't know, it's ornate as fuck I guess.
Other:
Theme:
Slaves:
Rolen owns many slaves, most of them having their own purpose or function. However, no matter the slave, all of them have had their tongues removed and some even no longer have eyelids, usually as punishment for falling asleep on the job.
It is important to note that all of Rolen's slaves are either POW's or bought from slave breeders. They are a variety of races and have a diverse set of skills. All of them, save for the Sibbi Mamuria, are marked in some fashion with the Galenodel crest.
- The common slave keeps Rolen's house clean and tidy. They are the "Shariha".
- Above the Shariha are the builders, those who have shown skill in duplicating orders from Rolen and have the physical might to construct the war machines. They are the "Bani".
- Above the Bani are the errand boys, those who have been "house broken" and are completely subservient to Rolen. These slaves are quick and nimble on their feet, their duties ranging from assassination to delivering messages. They are the "Sibbi Mamuria".
- The most honorable position a slave can have are the body guards. They are, like the Sibbi Mamuria, completely subservient. These slaves are huge, towering creatures and although they aren't Orks, they might as well be. They have been trained in combat and the unspoken tongue (sign language), making them quite literally; silent but deadly. These body guards are always men, and Rolen has castrated each and every one of them, as to not allow their masculine needs get in the way of decision making. They are the "Eunuch".
Im trying to salvage the situation but it is safe to put a character up. Yes.I've been thinking of filling a CS and joining but it seems that you guys hit some technical difficulties, is it still safe to join or is it better to hold off?