AmongHeroes

Pieces of 8: The Maidens of Asteroth (DARK/MODERN FANTASY ADVENTURE)

@Clumsywordsmith Oh hellllll yeah! It's good to see you, man.

Pieces of 8: The Maidens of Asteroth (DARK/MODERN FANTASY ADVENTURE)

@Blitzy Good to know lol.

Pieces of 8: The Maidens of Asteroth (DARK/MODERN FANTASY ADVENTURE)

Cool cool. If we get enough interest, there will definitely be a lot more character creation info in the OOC.

Pieces of 8: The Maidens of Asteroth (DARK/MODERN FANTASY ADVENTURE)

@Hour Error Thanks for your interest! I loved the World of Darkness tabletop games, especially VtM and Werewolf the Apocalypse.

Pieces of 8: The Maidens of Asteroth (DARK/MODERN FANTASY ADVENTURE)

IN EVERY ANGEL, A DEMON HIDES // AND IN EVERY DEMON, AN ANGEL STRIDES

T H E M E

Like a low hanging blanket of smoke, the sky hung above the dingy, monochrome city streets. The half gloom of evening coated with the darkened clouds gave an effect of artificial night that made lethargy seem to waft in the air.

The stark, bright cone of artificial blue-white from the detective's flashlight shone in rude contrast to the world around it. Clutched in the man's hand, and aimed down towards where the ruddy pavement met with the chipped brick of a wall, the light illuminated a scene of crimson gore and pale flesh.

"What the hell are those markings?" A policeman said, his face twisting with equal parts morbid curiosity and horror.

On the body--or what was left of it--an intricate, yet brutally animalistic pattern had been carved. The fact that the wounds had not bled meant that they had been completed postmortem. This fact did nothing however to detract from the state of pure agony the dead woman's face had masked itself into upon her passing.

The detective with the flashlight knelt, his mouth yet sealed to the question posited by the policeman. As he drew nearer the body, his nose was assaulted by the metallic smell of congealed blood.

He had seen this before, not long after he had first joined the force. The intricate amalgamation of drawn, puckered skin aligned with a precise and malicious ability with a blade. And, he knew now, as he had learned then, that the police were to be mere spectators to a horror that had only just reached it's inception.

---

PLOT CANDIES

DARK FANTASY SUPERNATURAL MODERN THRILLER MYSTERY

WELCOME TO THE VEILED WORLD //

You are an entity of the modern Veiled World; the shadowy reflection of the mortal realm that humans only perceive in their dreams and in the haze of their subconscious. With every manner of creature, from every culture, and every dark corner of the globe, it is a varied and vast realm. In this world--just as in the mortal one--there is business, entertainment, vice, crime, judgment, joy, and sadness.

The innumerable sects that are a part of the Veiled World are represented by an equally varied number of governments, cultural constructs, and interest groups. These groups supply the lattice work for society in the Veiled World, much as state governments do in the mortal world. Throughout history, these groups have warred and plotted, and while the plotting has never ceased, at the present the globe is, for the most part, miraculously at peace.

PIECES OF 8 //

This RP would be the third iteration of my Pieces of 8 universe. The last RP was completed 5 years ago, and was a wonderful experience. I will never forget the players I was fortunate enough to write with, so if any of you Pof8 veterans are reading this THANK YOU!

If you're at all curious about the feel of the RP, check out our last episode here.

Sengoku Space Opera

@Hellis Sorry I've been away, but is this RP still a go? I'll start on an app if it is.

Sengoku Space Opera

@Hellis Good, good. Just living the dream. Glad to see you're still about.

Sengoku Space Opera

Mark me down as interested.

Musha shugyō - A Feudal Japanese RP

Woohoo! Glad to see we're growing.

Musha shugyō - A Feudal Japanese RP

With the air chilled on the wings of descending nightfall, the buckwheat soba noodles steamed with the vigor of a stoked forge as the yatai owner spooned them into a ceramic bowl, and passed it to a waiting patron. Fujii Masatoki payed the cart owner, and thanked him, before adjusting the two swords at his waist so he could bend closer to the bench-table on the cart’s side.

Masatoki’s large, tall, muscle bound frame setting against the yatai appeared like a bear before a cricket cage to those walking the street. Several children even stopped to marvel at the strange kuma eating noodles in the middle of their village. The samurai’s long, full head of jet-black hair was not kept in the traditional chonmage topknot, but rather pulled back into a wide tail at the back of his head. This affectation only added to his animalistic visage, and it played well against his deep set eyes, clean shaven face, and heavy brow. Masatoki looked far older than his 26 years.

The noodle cart owner appraised his unusual patron as politely and discreetly as he could manage. It was not everyday that the cart owner received a samurai, much less one that looked as if he could pull a slab of granite apart with his bare hands. Further, the mon depicting twin jumping fish on the samurai’s sleeves was one the man did not recognize.

Eventually, the cart owner’s curiosity got the better of him, and he nodded to the samurai. “Have your travels been peaceful, sir?”

Masatoki looked up from his meal, and affixed the cart owner with an appraising stare. Slurping down a length of noodles, the samurai’s features softened, and he nodded.

“It has been peaceful enough.” Masatoki’s mouth quirked into a bare smile. “Though I suspect you mean to ask, ‘Where are you from?’”

The cart owner fell silent, and bowed his head.

“Mmm,” Masatoki hummed. “Very well, then. I am a son of the Fujii clan, and hail from the Awa province of Shikoku.”

The cart owner’s eyes widened in awe. This samurai was indeed far from home. It was not unusual to see samurai from other clans and fiefs traveling through Iruhada Derogi’s lands, but the cart owner had never known of one that had ranged from so far south. Shuffling around his cart, the man leaned over slightly towards the southern samurai.

“Are you here answering the call of the Daimyo, sir? Or perhaps you’re seeking to sell your skill to that of the village leaders in their revolt against Lord Iruhada?”

Masatoki looked at the cart owner with an inquisitive lift to his brow. He had set out from Awa months earlier, intent on finding purpose and fortune in musha shugyō. As the youngest of three sons to the head of the Fujii clan, Masatoki was lacking in the life of duty his older brothers enjoyed. As hatamoto servants to the Tokugawa, the Fujii maintained a relatively prominent status in Shikoku. Yet, Masatoki’s place within his family gave him little real responsibility. He yearned for adventure, and for a means to bring tangible honor to his name. So, with his father’s blessing, Masatoki had set out into the greater world with lofty goals, and very little real strategy on how to achieve them.

He had traveled north on a lark, following no real leads, but rather an ethereal intuition that seemed to pulse at the fore of his imagination. Testing his skills, and proving his mettle amidst a revolt would go a long way to giving focus, notoriety, and purpose to Masatoki’s quest.

Turning upon the stool, Masatoki oriented himself fully towards the cart owner. Grasping towards one of the posts of the cart, Masatoki took the handle of the kanabō that had been leaning there. The head of the long weapon of hardwood and iron studs came to rest between Masatoki’s feet, and he hunched forward to rest a forearm on the iron ring that was affixed to the hilt. There was a twinkle in the large man’s dark, inky eyes.

The cart owner took a step back, stunned in disbelief when faced with the full effect of the hulking samurai.

“Now,” Masatoki said evenly, licking broth from his lips, “tell me all you know of this revolt.”