LazerWitch
The Horror queen from your day dreams
***This is my first RP on this site and the first one I've done in some time, so please let me know if you have any quality pointers/ requests in general.
This thread is currently open and accepting character submissions through the appropriate tab above. Once we begin, I ask that we respect each other by adhering to site rules and posting order. We should be getting started in a day or two, just to give others a chance to submit their information if interested. Once we begin, the post will become invite-only.
I do request that your replies at least contain two paragraphs worth of content for quality assurance. If you would like to play as more then one character, go for it! Just no more then two to avoid over-crowding. Also, please refrain from god-moding as that will ruin the fun for all other players.
The concept of this world is open, the mission of my character is just a launching point. If anyone would like to play as the individual he is searching for, please feel free. Romance is acceptable as long as it flows with the story, isn't forced, and is in alignment with site rules. If you would like more information on the base plot of the story and an idea of where it is headed please click on the appropriate tab above.
Lastly, keep in mind that everyone has a life and obligations outside of the RP so please be patient if it takes a player a little longer to reply.
Have fun!***
Ghost sighed, leaning against the bar of an old tavern deep in the heart of the imperial capitol. His cold blue eyes glanced over the workers to the drinks in the back. Several bottles lined the oak shelves, glistening proudly against the candle light.
Crimson Spirit... he thought. Pricy stuff for a place like this.
"You gonna buy anything, stranger?" growled a husky voice.
Without turning a glance, Ghost knew it was the bartender. It was the third time the question was posed in the last ten minutes and he was clearly becoming agitated by the lack of coin in his purse. With a smile, the young man pulled out a velvet satchel and slid one piece of gold across the wooden bar.
"Whatever that will get me, please." He said politely.
The bartender grunted, grabbing the funds with one hand and an empty glass with another. He hit a tap to his right and foamy yellow ale oozed into the cup. His large hand slammed the drink down before Ghost with a nearly palpable thud. "It'll get you damn close to dog piss."
"Dog piss it is, thanks." Ghost replied, taking the ale in hand. He gave the bartender one final nod of approval before venturing to the far left corner of the tavern. It was a decent place that mostly offered middle-scale entertainment for the middle-class folks of the capitol. They did business in drinks, music from local bards, gambling, and an abundance of prostitutes (even if the owner won't publicly acknowledge it).
He rested the drink upon a small table in the back. It was a cozy little nook with only one tiny lantern on a shelf next to a mirror that illuminated the space.
"The Witch's mirror..." Ghost read from a small bronze plaque fastened with two bolts below the shelf, "...Beware the witch that willed the world within the world, lest ye forget which world is which." He finished, shaking his head.
People don't even trust their own reflection anymore. He thought, staring into the supposedly bewitched glass. A tall, larger-framed man stared back at him, his broad shoulders and muscular arms hidden beneath a set of black-leather armor trimmed in red and gold. A stealth mask of the same material covers the lower half of his face, underscoring his piercing blue eyes and wispy, unkept burgundy hair. His right hand reached for the small chain that hung loosely around his neck, the dangling crystal at the end weaving between his first two fingers.
I guess I can't blame them.
Finally sitting down, the young man pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and flattened it out against the table's surface. Scribbled onto the parchment was a list of coordinates within the city, the first four crossed off. Only three remained, including this tavern.
With a sigh, he drew a line through The Horse Trough.
Finding her highness is proving to be very, very difficult. He thought, removing his mask and taking a swig of the ale. His facial muscles crumpled in repulsion to the horrid flavor as he nearly slammed the glass back down.
"I see they named the place well." Ghost scoffed as the bartender's chuckle rolled softly over the lute player's latest tune.
This thread is currently open and accepting character submissions through the appropriate tab above. Once we begin, I ask that we respect each other by adhering to site rules and posting order. We should be getting started in a day or two, just to give others a chance to submit their information if interested. Once we begin, the post will become invite-only.
I do request that your replies at least contain two paragraphs worth of content for quality assurance. If you would like to play as more then one character, go for it! Just no more then two to avoid over-crowding. Also, please refrain from god-moding as that will ruin the fun for all other players.
The concept of this world is open, the mission of my character is just a launching point. If anyone would like to play as the individual he is searching for, please feel free. Romance is acceptable as long as it flows with the story, isn't forced, and is in alignment with site rules. If you would like more information on the base plot of the story and an idea of where it is headed please click on the appropriate tab above.
Lastly, keep in mind that everyone has a life and obligations outside of the RP so please be patient if it takes a player a little longer to reply.
Have fun!***
Ghost sighed, leaning against the bar of an old tavern deep in the heart of the imperial capitol. His cold blue eyes glanced over the workers to the drinks in the back. Several bottles lined the oak shelves, glistening proudly against the candle light.
Crimson Spirit... he thought. Pricy stuff for a place like this.
"You gonna buy anything, stranger?" growled a husky voice.
Without turning a glance, Ghost knew it was the bartender. It was the third time the question was posed in the last ten minutes and he was clearly becoming agitated by the lack of coin in his purse. With a smile, the young man pulled out a velvet satchel and slid one piece of gold across the wooden bar.
"Whatever that will get me, please." He said politely.
The bartender grunted, grabbing the funds with one hand and an empty glass with another. He hit a tap to his right and foamy yellow ale oozed into the cup. His large hand slammed the drink down before Ghost with a nearly palpable thud. "It'll get you damn close to dog piss."
"Dog piss it is, thanks." Ghost replied, taking the ale in hand. He gave the bartender one final nod of approval before venturing to the far left corner of the tavern. It was a decent place that mostly offered middle-scale entertainment for the middle-class folks of the capitol. They did business in drinks, music from local bards, gambling, and an abundance of prostitutes (even if the owner won't publicly acknowledge it).
He rested the drink upon a small table in the back. It was a cozy little nook with only one tiny lantern on a shelf next to a mirror that illuminated the space.
"The Witch's mirror..." Ghost read from a small bronze plaque fastened with two bolts below the shelf, "...Beware the witch that willed the world within the world, lest ye forget which world is which." He finished, shaking his head.
People don't even trust their own reflection anymore. He thought, staring into the supposedly bewitched glass. A tall, larger-framed man stared back at him, his broad shoulders and muscular arms hidden beneath a set of black-leather armor trimmed in red and gold. A stealth mask of the same material covers the lower half of his face, underscoring his piercing blue eyes and wispy, unkept burgundy hair. His right hand reached for the small chain that hung loosely around his neck, the dangling crystal at the end weaving between his first two fingers.
I guess I can't blame them.
Finally sitting down, the young man pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and flattened it out against the table's surface. Scribbled onto the parchment was a list of coordinates within the city, the first four crossed off. Only three remained, including this tavern.
With a sigh, he drew a line through The Horse Trough.
Finding her highness is proving to be very, very difficult. He thought, removing his mask and taking a swig of the ale. His facial muscles crumpled in repulsion to the horrid flavor as he nearly slammed the glass back down.
"I see they named the place well." Ghost scoffed as the bartender's chuckle rolled softly over the lute player's latest tune.
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