Hiya, AChronum here! Although I'm relatively new to rping, I have plenty of writing experience and love trying new genres and styles. I absolutely love high magic fantasy RPs and am pretty much willing to do anything so long as I can create a charaxter, not play an existing one, and develop lots and lots of backstory! I'm perfectly comfortable with all mature themes as well, although smut for smut's sake is out of the question.
Interested in an RP? Send me a PM and have a magically marvelous day!
Xenos let out a low whistle. Killed a dungeon boss five days in and rode a white wolf. That sounds amazing! Definitely impressive. And here he is, struggling to get ore to update some of this… quaint tech. Color him jealous? Check. Way out of his league? Check. Is he having fun? Hell yeah!
“M’lady, loose? You wound me!” He sighed, clutching at his heart dramatically. “I would never! Well maybe... possibly... probably. But ya know technicalities.” He waved off the accusation with a wink. He watched her down a shot and, not one to be left behind, slammed his own shot down as well. He shivered pleasantly as the burn radiated through him.
"Seriously mixed signals here darling.” He chuckled and winked. “Well, you admit I'm a looker and I count that as a win! Anyways, nothing so exciting for me. Mining and mining day in and out. Some fighting and quests. And more mining. I’m jealous really!”
He grimaced as he stretched and started on his next drink. " You know, they programmed the pain of manual labor? I want to update this silly muzzle loading rifle to a breech loading one but I need iron to work with. And the soreness is murder on my hands. I'm not sure if calluses are a thing here but I’d rather not find out.” He grumbled. He took another sip and sighed before narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. He tapped on his glass absently.
“Your party cleared a dungeon hm?” He thought out loud, pulling up the dashboard and looking over the quest options. “Are you all for hire? See my mining skill is garbage so I've collected jack shit so far. I need a more consistent iron souce than gathering alone allows. Concussion grenades, grenade launcher, breech loading rifles and pistols, hell even stuff not of my own inventing at this level needs it and its insanely expensive.” He faced her fully, eyes sparkling despite the serious set of his face. “If I do the guard the mines quest, I might be able to weasel my way into a bi-annual contract with them and secure a reliable supply line! I need people to pull this off though. You think your group would be willing? I can't really pay in Renn but I’ll give you guys free repairs, upgrades, and access to specialty consumables! Please?” He had started speaking faster and faster as he got excited, gesturing wildly through his explanation before he caught himself and snatched his hands back and smiled bashfully.
“Sorry, sorry. I get a little carried away with ideas once I get them. I’ve been told it's a little overwhelming.” He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. And now she knew he was a total dork. He sighed again but looked up hopefully. “Um but think about it please? It would really help me out and I don’t mind being a repair bot for the opportunity.”
Xenos startled as someone plopped down into the stool next to him. He glanced over, swirling what little remained of his drink. His eyes wandered over her, taking in red hair and pale skin and, most importantly, how quickly she gulped down alcohol. An easy smile made its way across his face and he tossed back his drink. He set the glass on the table and turned to the stranger next to him, leaning on the bar.
“Well gorgeous, is it hot in here or is it just you?” He winked before waving down the barkeep. “Keep me on pace with Wonder Woman here please. If ever there was a sign to keep drinking, this angel here is definitely it!” He chuckled and slid his Renn across the table, snatching up the first beer as it came his way and took a long gulp with a satisfied sigh before grimacing as his shoulder protested the sudden movement.
“River's a riot though huh? Found him outside the city, eating berries and stuff. Had been avoiding the city like the plague after a bunch of groups tried to force him to join. Healer panic and all that.” He gestured towards the hyper Trainer. He grimaced again, rolling his shoulder to ease out the soreness. Who thought programming the pain of manual labor a good idea. They should have only kept pain simulators for combat. Gathering ore was going to be unpleasant moving forward. Honestly, people played games to escape... Well, that answered that question then.
“Aaaaaaanyways, you mentioned a good fight. Come in from the fields or did you try one of your hand at one of the dungeons?” He asked.
“And for what purpose should such a facade I assume? Nay child, the breath of the grave on mine nape and fingers of Death about mine breast are constant companions; I feign dare do them disservice.” Viktor replied, an eyebrow arched in question as he gave her his full attention. His eyes traced the glowing patterns for the moment they brightened. “Although forgive me mine ignorance, the significance of your observations eludes mine comprehension. I balk not at mine predisposition, the burdensome equilibrium mine existence demands proves a comforting weight on my shoulders. Sincerity and Honesty - the two virtues whose pallor fades not with time but instead flourishes at the edges of the river's banks. Tis the only fleeting threads not yet warped into mine afflicted skein and so sacrifice them I shall not.” Viktor turned back to the elf briefly.
“Hasten not onwards from our conversation child. Your attention wanderers aimlessly and still I know not what recompense you desire for services rendered.” Viktor's face remained impassive but his words had just the slightest edge, annoyance slipping through.
“Apologies are unnecessary.” Viktor dismissed the merchant's concerns, instead watching as the talkative girl seemingly ascertained his nature. He eyed her warily. “However, I doubt your decision to pass out such cordial without recompense gothic. Indeed even as she nurtures her child, shall she remember in emergency did coin not pass her purse. Be wary upon her return as the jade demands similarity in exceeding less and less alarm.” Viktor scowled at the elf. If Greed did roam this world, humanity was Its avatar. Pandering to their lesser bases lead to where the Dusk were now. “Though be it far from my place to lecture you such. Pray, for what am I indebted to you for a roast barely lighter than dark?” He turned to the interrupting woman.
“Indeed I discovered this curiosity not yet a fortnight past. I believed myself above silly indulgences yet here I stand indulging.” He let the barrier on him shimmer away so he could pull out a coin purse. “And still it has driven me much further than plain texts writ by mortals with sight beyond their lives. Perhaps I could indulge your infatuation? If you feel so compelled, Caffeinated Concoctions stays open through every chime. If you stumble into before the sun's first light, I'll oblige your weakness. Though perhaps refrain from cutting into others conversation this time.”
Viktor stepped quietly onto the streets of this city. He spent a few moments just watching, pressed into the shadows of a corner as life bustled by. He briefly considered returning to his room and his books, curled contently up in the small nest of bedsheets, blankets, and pillows in the corner furthest from the door. He had moved the bare bed barely away from the wall and had entrenched himself there the first night. He didn’t particular care he was indoors but he hadn’t slept on anything soft since… he wasn’t sure really. The floor felt much better, sturdier. Only the noise was a problem.
The vampire shook his head. He worked tonight and his coworker suggested a little shop that sold ear plug, little things that apparently helped with noise. He wanted to pick it up before work so he could head home immediately after. He slipped out of the little corner and steeled himself as he slipped into the bustle of the city. He choked back the urge to hiss at everything that touched him. He reminded himself he was here voluntarily, he was here to change. It may just take some time.
It was suffocating. After centuries of silence, of open spaces, of living creatures giving his havens wide berth, the incessant buzz of life and unlife weighed heavily on him. It felt constrictive and abrasive. It made him want to abandon this nonsense and curl back up in the wilderness. He knew he couldn’t but Viktor couldn’t help but yearn for the way things used to be. Before the Children of Dawn had connected every part of the world. Before their winged contraptions and metal rolling boxes pounded against his ears. Before their unabashed greed devoured every hiding place he had made.
But it was far too late and even vampires must eventually bow to the passage of time, despite their certainty of their immunity. He let his magic unfurl around him, keeping a thin translucent barrier just above his skin. It was tiring but less stressful than others constantly touching him. It was a technique one of the professors had taught him when he’d noticed Viktor’s irritation. And it made everything just a little better.
"Herbs get your herbs here! I got hunting toxins, cooking ingredients, and medicinal plants alike! Come get your fresh herbs here! Potent and strong for the amateur or expert!"
Viktor stopped abruptly and swiveled quickly on his heel, barely noticing the grumbling of the woman who narrowly avoided him. He narrowed his eyes as he found it, an elf across the market. His coffee supply was running low. What a perfect time to replenish it. He slipped behind the elf and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“Are coffee beans amongst your wares child?” The words struggled to lift themselves off his tongue, his voice low and rough, the words sluggish.
So I know I ghosted for like 5 months but if you want an idea, here is my two cents. It's how I used to handle my dnd play by posts I used to DM for.
Make a post every three or four days that moves the plot and anyone who hadn't posted at least once in that time frame gets auto moved. For example, in a fight Person A is calling out commands to B, C, and D. B and C post bit D doesn't by the time you put out the boss post. In the fight summary, it'll read "Person D auto attacks for (whatever value)." If this happens repeatedly with the same people, discuss with them privately. People may be more willing to discuss it in private instead of in the OOC maybe.
In the event it isn't a fight, they go chill in the in or they stay quiet during a travel scene. This way the game keeps moving for those who are in a position to post regularly.
Of course, this system assumes the person didn't tell you anything before hand.
Birthday: December 18th, 1216 Turn Date: August 26th, 1237
Race: Vampire, Turned
Appearance:
Viktor hails from a poor 1200s farming village in the North Eastern areas of what is now known as Russia. Considering his background, Viktor never had the chance to escape the scrawny frame his life forced him into. Grey eyes and blond hair would normally go a long way for those of Russian heritage but his eyes are slightly sunken in and lanky frame always seems just slightly underfed, no matter how recently he has eaten. Standing a solid 5' 10”, Viktor still moves with the unnatural grace his cursed life affords him despite his seemingly malnourished appearance. Viktor wears simple clothes, T-shirts and jeans and sneakers, decidedly uninterested in mortal concepts of fashion. This is likely a result of his self imposed isolation at the beginning of the 16th century.
Personality:
Despite appearances, Viktor's personality reflects his age. With a focus only those who have lived too long possess, Viktor moves a his own pace. This often leads him to situations in which he comes off as cool or aloof but really he is merely taking the time to process and change. When you've lived one way for five hundred years, that is a slow and painful process. Though once it has processed, Viktor often latches on with the desperation of a dying man. Indeed, the vampire has an obsessive personality born of centuries of repression. Coffee for example. Once a delicacy, the concoction spread like wildfire through the world and yet only once he came to Luna Prima did he realize it even existed. Since then, he applied to the Academy of Luca Prima's kinetic magic division and applied for a job at a small coffee shop that specializes in the use of kinetic magic to craft specialty coffees.
I came into this world as I expected I would leave it, hunted and hated, loathed and feared. My skein, once smooth and silky, turned tangled and knotted through the unfathomable quirks of Fate. My first memories of my existence were of lust and longing. Of a terrible thirst for that which pumped through mortal veins. I remember prowling through small settlements dotting the tundra, snow underfoot muffling the inevitable. I remember the crying, the begging, the screaming. I remember how none of it mattered.
Before that, I remember nothing but hunger and fear and anger. I remember the blistering pain as I turned against my will, as my humanity burned beneath my skin. I fail to remember who turned me or exactly why they chose to do so. Though I suppose it matters not for whether it is a blessing or curse, the inevitable results will not vary. I remember hunting night after night, impatiently awaiting the softness of my once kin's flesh beneath my teeth. I remember a part of me struggled against my desires, the small bastion of humanity left untouched by the turn. Though even that succumbed to the new reality of my life. And so my memory of that time fades to little more than an insatiable appetite.
As best as I can recollect, it took the better part of a century before my memories returned. I awoke chained in the basement of a cozy home. I could say I awoke imprisoned. And while such an observation may by all technical accounts be true, it was cozier than anything I could remember. Strange patterns adorned the bare patches of the walls and faded tapestries concealed the rest. A comfortable bed took up a small portion and a desk and book shelf adorned the rest. A small silver bell that seemed to glow in the dim lighting caught my attention and unspeakable urge to ring it came across me. And, with the same weakness I indulged my base urges with, I rang it.
Алла. A witch forced to hunt the monster indiscriminately slaughtering the impoverished of Kievan Rus'. A witch who originally knew nothing more that rudimentary healing magics and a few obscure scrying spells. A witch who saved a man from death, only to have him turn her in for supposed justice. And humanity turned away from one of their own in their fanatical skepticism, demanding that a child who just stepped over the threshold into womanhood hunt a beast they were too afraid to find. Her desire to spite those who wronged her drove her out of civilization and into the broken and beaten villages. Drove her to succeed where they hoped she failed, or at the very least died after killing the beast.
This, I now realize, is the very moment from which my overwhelming disgust of the Children of Dawn stems. The damnable irony is that despite their best efforts to strip her of her humanity and her grace, she instead strip them of theirs when she chose to teach that monster control and restraint, when she chose to give it back his sanity and purpose, instead of obliterating it as they demanded. The Children of the Dawn who know nothing of the Night see more black and white than do those who see nothing but black and white. Their absolute dedication to the concept of absolutes, of right and wrong and nothing more, sickens me to my very core and leaves me hating those of the Dawn because of the fear. For my existence, and all those of the Dusk, hangs as precarious as our namesake, for the Dusk has no place near the Dawn in their eyes and they would snuff it out to avoid the shattering of their twisted truths.
A soft breath ghosted over the ink, drying the letters quickly. Viktor gently closed the journal and leaned back into the chair. An odd, uncomfortable feeling stirred in his stomach and he stubbornly shoved it to the back of his mind. His employer, Valencia, suggested this as a method of self reflection, a way to analyze himself and become better. A few details of his life had escaped after seven centuries and with the existence of this City, it may be time to find ways to overcome his prejudices. Or rather she threatened to fire him if he didn't start getting along with the Children of the Dawn and smack him upside the head with the journal. Repeatedly. The alchemist who ran Valencia's Caffeinated Concoctions didn't mince words or use eloquent phrases like most Elves he had encountered. She spoke bluntly, her opinions always harsh but fair. And despite avoiding civilization like the plague for the past five centuries (excluding enough time to pick up enough of the vernacular that a moments passing wouldn't reveal the extend of his unlife), he found himself unwilling to disappoint the woman.
He thought back to the blind panic that had settled in as haven after haven was torn down be the encroaching Children of Dawn and how that simple letter sparked a desire in him he though stolen by immortality. The desire to change and learn, grow and adapt. Watching the endless cycle of time tended to cement your life into a series of inescapable ruts. He resigned himself to solitude. He resigned himself to stagnation. That letter appeared on his doorstep as he concluded it was time to give up his immortality for good. It was his saving grace, like Алла all those years ago.
He smiled at the though and gently placed the journal away. There was plenty of time for self reflection later. For now, it was time to focus on The Regulations and Responsibilities of Kinetic Mages. As much as he enjoyed learning, this one was worse than watching love struck fools serenade empty balconies back in the 15th centuries. Those voices still haunted his nightmares.
Viktor sighed but a small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth. This world gave him a hope he had lost and now he had it, he wouldn't let it go anytime soon.
Other:
Despite his age, Viktor lived in solitude for so long he has very little functional knowledge of the outside world. He practically loathes the Children of the Dawn, believing them to be barbarians and murderers who know little more than their own greed. He finds the concept of religion revolting. He has watched it turned kin against kin and justify the senseless torture and death of millions. He has no problem laughing in any poor soul's face about it if it comes up in conversation. His connection to the other races are tenuous at best, although he gets along with mages of every society except Goblins and Orcs. He finds them disgusting to the eyes and judges them harshly for it. He rather enjoys the presence of Elves and the Fey but wildly distrusts dwarves and their close ties to the Children of Dawn. He speaks to them quietly and with reservation, afraid whatever he says will travel to the hellish humans and end with him dead.
The biggest issue Viktor struggles with as a turned Vampire is the hunger. The all consuming need to devour every last drop of blood out of any humanoid possible. He keeps it in check through a very strict set of rules:
1) Feed only once a week. 2) Attempt to feed from blood bags only. 3) Always screen potential meals if a blood bag cannot be found, including sexual history and blood type. 4) Never under any circumstance drink blood type AB. The hunger will turn into a frenzy.
Viktor doesn't care to have a last name. If something would require him to have one, he writes the letter A.
Hiya, AChronum here! Although I'm relatively new to rping, I have plenty of writing experience and love trying new genres and styles. I absolutely love high magic fantasy RPs and am pretty much willing to do anything so long as I can create a charaxter, not play an existing one, and develop lots and lots of backstory! I'm perfectly comfortable with all mature themes as well, although smut for smut's sake is out of the question.
Interested in an RP? Send me a PM and have a magically marvelous day!
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Hiya, AChronum here! Although I'm relatively new to rping, I have plenty of writing experience and love trying new genres and styles. I absolutely love high magic fantasy RPs and am pretty much willing to do anything so long as I can create a charaxter, not play an existing one, and develop lots and lots of backstory! I'm perfectly comfortable with all mature themes as well, although smut for smut's sake is out of the question.<br><br>Interested in an RP? Send me a PM and have a magically marvelous day! </div>
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Andreyich
Izurich
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Asura
Tim the Yeti
Aku the Samurai
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