AngelofOctober

Forgotten Heroes: Marvel's Underdogs

@TheRedWatcher@Polaris North

I always love the idea of a non traditional healer.

Polaris, any questions. Your thoughts.

Forgotten Heroes: Marvel's Underdogs

@TheRedWatcher

I honestly think Serenity would scream. And feasibly for the rest of the RP go "I have a mans leg" even if it ended morphing to look exactly like her leg. She'd forever consider her leg a dudes leg. Which is hilarious, but traumatizing for a woman too.

Forgotten Heroes: Marvel's Underdogs

<Snipped quote by Polaris North>

I am thinking Prince Charming from an Alternate Dimension. I am kidding. or am I.

@TheRedWatcher

lol....

"Rogue X, more like my peons"

Forgotten Heroes: Marvel's Underdogs

<Snipped quote by Polaris North>

>.>
<.<
speaking of that fancy title.

Makes her cutest puppy-dog eyes at @AngelofOctober
when do I get reinstated? :p

@Neo Is Delight

Play nice with North now.

Forgotten Heroes: Marvel's Underdogs

-slides in-

Welcome your newest member. Angel said he's updating the RP and I am your newest recruit. I am going to have a character up soonish.

@TheRedWatcher

This. I am working on the update now and hopefully this idiot can get this sheet done in the meantime.

Reign: Kingdom Come

The Hermit

He had taken refuge below the window, only slowing peering at the edge to watch the soldiers. Taking a deep breath in, then exhaling slowly as his heart raced slightly, it’s okay Favian think clearly. Why were they here? Did they see him? He thinks they saw him. No. No. Focus. He had to get out of here, clearly that was the rational solution.

It wasn’t. What if they saw him? Had they seen him? He stared at his lute which he had placed on the chair after sneaking on his hands and knees down here. No, they clearly couldn’t see him below the window. Ah, yes they did see him.

He should stare here. Then again his dwindling supplies and his stomach said otherwise. Couldn’t they understand though, out there were all manners of beast and those soldiers. They had seen him. They had been talking about the cottage, hadn’t they? Just a little longer. He could stay here a little longer. Yet, his body was moving against his rational calculations of the benefits of staying here.

Neatly putting his papers in a traveling bag, and grabbing his lute strapping it around his neck. He looked back out the front window. Coast was clear. He moved to the back of the cottage and went out the back window.Better safe than sorry, throwing his travel bag out the window first and carefully stepping out of the window himself. He securely closed up the back window with a piece of wood. That should keep rift raft out he supposed.

Scrambling from behind his house, he hugged his back close the wall and scooted along the perimeter. When he got to the edge, he peaked over to see if the soldiers had come back. When he could not see anyone, or didn’t hear any horses. He quickly ran to the road and would make his way to Milborne. Easy enough. That was easy. No worry.

Reign: Kingdom Come

The Hermit

Favian "The Hermit"

*also sort of how I imagine him playing

Name: Favian the Hermit
Age: 26
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Occupation: Bard
Appearance:

Even if he were nobility, he probably didn't look it now. Most probably would laugh if he ever told them the truth of who he was. Though truthfully, the reality is that he might not and he doesn't necessarily dream to care what they have to say about his appearance.

A young man, whose stately appearance was troubled by a lack of money, and hard work. A gaunt face, and bags under his eyes, which were covered by an unkempt amount of tangled dirty blond hair. Actually it was more hard to tell if his blond hair was naturally dirty or if it were actual dirt that had stained his hair. Blue irises were hidden by either the shadow of his hat, or the state of his stringy, mangy, bangs.

His garb consisted of poorly condition clothing, a pair of breeches with several different patches worked into them to repair them, tucked into a pair of worn leather boots that had been fixed, and repaired several times over. His rough, cotton shirt, also had a state of different patches all to fix up noticeable holes and tears were repaired with a state of fabric stitches.

His fingers were well calloused from the use of instruments and he kept one nail longer than the rest to act like a pick for whenever he played the lute. Standing at 6ft, he was tall, but wore a state of poverty or at least a less then wealthy lifestyle. He had a tendency to slouch or hunch over from time to time, which shrank his height. And even if he weren't doing those things, his meek persona often had him seem shorter than what he truly was.

He has a rather well soft spoken voice, he speaks well an articulate, and educated. He is able to string a structure of words together that makes his musical arts well worth it for some. His voice is mild, albeit a bit hoarse at times, it's not too high pitch or low pitch, but sits somewhere in the middle. Though he has a tendency to mumble or stutter in uncomfortable crowded situations, when he is not performing.

Reference

Background: Favian was born to none other then Lord Bryce of Milborne and his wife Lady Muriel. For years they tried to have a child, but due to infertility, they were unable to have one. Years went by in this sorry state. Without an heir, Bryce's lineage would end. One day, almost miraculously, Muriel became pregnant. It turned out to be a boy who they named Favian. His parents couldn't have been more happy. The city of Milborne rejoiced with them.

For his early life, Favian grew up in court. He learned how to address nobility, to read, write and command servants. He took an extreme interest in the travelling troubadors and minstrels that would entertain the court. Lord Bryce was quite fond of them and would pay generously to all who visited. lady Muriel however, was displeased. She believed entertainment was a waste of valuable resources and time. Favian was entranced by their performances. But what really stirred his soul unlike anything else was the musicians. Their beautiful music told tales of ancient kingdoms, dragons, knights and princesses. There was no experience quite like it. He watched the other children's eyes dance with excitement. This was his calling.

Bryce was not against his son learning those skills, however, Muriel wouldn't have any of it. She forbade him from practicing instruments and verbally abused him from an early age. He was brought up having to shun the very things that gave him joy. Instead, he was forced to learn things that were dry and lifeless in his eyes. Learning, history and physical health were the top priorities of the Lady Muriel. Lord Bryce would not stand in the way of his wife, he was his one true love after all. Favian learned the power of words during this time. The ability to take you higher then the mountains, or deeper then the depths of the sea. The tongue was a flaming fire that had to be put in check or dangerous things could happen.

This abuse went on for many years unnoticed by the public at large. Favian felt like he was being constrained into the image his parents wanted. He felt like he didn't have his own voice. This made him very resentful toward them in his heart. Favian was very intelligent as well. He was undoubtedly going to be the next Lord of Milborne after his father. However, Favian had other plans. He stowed away with a band of travelling troubadors at the age of 16. He had finally resolved in himself to muster up the courage and get away from his home life.

The entire city of Milborne was in an uproar over Favian's disappearance. Lord Bryce and Lady Muriel were distraut. They searched everywhere for their son, but he was long gone. Favian persuaded the troubador's to teach him their craft of music with a bag of coin. Favian decided to go with the name "The Hermit." He grew out his beard and hair in order to hide his identity. He travelled with this musical group for many years, going from court to court. They entertained many Lord's and Lady's of nobility. Now he finally had the voice he was created to express freely. His group was allowed to freely travel throughout the Kingdoms due to their status as neutral entertainers.

Favian learned much about the world in that time. Life was so much more vast then he ever knew in the confines of the City of Milborne. His group of troubador's taught him many different songs and instruments. Favian took a liking to the lute most. It had a nostalgic sound to it, intoxicating in its' majestic, otherworldly sound. In the hands of an experienced player, it was able express so much more then words alone ever could. Favian wrote his own sheets of music and performed in courts. He took his audiences away to other worlds with his crafted pieces. Favian was finally able to convey the power of words to song that would bring people up lifting their spirits. But something didn't sit right with him. Because the greatest pay was in the castle's of lords and ladys, the poor and destitute never got a chance to listen.

After many years of learning, Favian broke up with his Trabadour friends and bought a small piece of land outside the city of Milborne in the Glistening Wood. He was 24 years old. Despite his treatment in court in earlier years, Favian felt called to the place of his birth. He desperately wanted to see his father and even his mother. Maybe they had changed?

For 2 years Favian played for the townsfolk on many occassions, only accepting whatever they could afford as payment. "The Hermit" was know as a people's hero of sorts. Even with his great skill, he would play for the lower classes of Milborne. They provided him with food, clothing and other necessities. During his sessions, he would try to teach the people through song. Favian believed ignorance was one of their worst enemies and tried to offset their lack of education with his own knowledge. His efforts did not amount to much in that area, however.

Lord Bryce came on occassion to listen to his stirring tales on the lute. Favian recognized his father immediately, but never gathered up the courage to visit with him. He had a fear that kept him from engaging with people for long stretches of time. Being away from other's helped him recollect his energy and inspiration.

Favian sits in his cabin many nights, playing his instruments. He crafts new music in order to impact the people of Milborne. Recently, he had even seen creatures of enormous size travelling through the wood at night. Strange new circumstances that could require his attention. But could he forgo his recluse state in order to help other's more practically? Perhaps..

Personality

Demeanor: Favian is a type of recluse. The only time he interacts with others is during his concerts to the people of Milborne. He has a fear of being discovered by the nobility and tries to stay away from them. This is especially so for his mother and father. His heart is to help others in the best way he knows how, through music. He believes in a higher standard; loyality, humility and kindness are his virtues. Because of his negative experiences in life, Favian believes that it is those who break the rules and take advantage of others that come out on top. This belief has created bitterness in his heart to those of higher status. He absolutely abhors ignorance and does his best to keep his mind sharp. Reading and learning are important to him. He only wishes others saw the same value in them as himself. Having his own voice to express to others is one of his greatest needs and desires. He uses music in order to do just that.

Likes:
-Stirring music.
-Virtues.
-Wisdom/Learning
-Inspiring others.
-Being alone.
-Discovery.

Dislikes:
-Ignorance.
-His parents.
-The nobility.
-Large crowds.
-Being silenced.
-Awkward silence.

Skills:

Musical Proficiency: Favian is a great musician able to convey feelings of all kinds through the music he composes himself. People are enraptured by his songs and tales, hanging on to every verse. He is able to play all manner of musical instruments well, but specializes in the lute.

Learned: Being brought up as the son of a Lord gave Favian the opportunity to learn to read, write and take care of himself. He has never lost the desire to learn, but the subjects in which he engages in today are much different then the ones he was forced to learn growing up.

Wisdom: Throughout his travels, Favian has experienced much of what the world has to offer. He has seen much and done much. The wisdom he has gained through his experiences have impacted him greatly, giving him good words for people of all different circumstances. He almost always has an answer for a problem that he encounters.

Dreams: Favian wishes to have a voice in matters. To destroy ignorance and uplift understanding. He wants to be valued for who he is and the skills he possesses. He wants to show his family that who he was created to be was greater then anything they tried to turn him into.

Relations:

Father; Favian doesn't always look at his father with favor. He loved who he was, not what he became. His father was the one who encouraged the arts in him, to pursue his dreams. To be what he wanted. Then his mother started hounding him, hurting him. His father had ever chance to stop her, stand up to her. Why didn't he? Why didn't he protect him?

Mother; He always wanted to love her. Have a relationship with her. Perhaps have her eyes open at some point in time. But she never did. He resents he more than anything and doesn't really want her back in his life. He wouldn't know where to begin on forgiving her.

Troubadours; Have always been like a family he was never related to. They gave him a sense of belonging and a sense of self that his past life hadn't. They allowed him to dream, learn and spread his wings and he'd definitely help a member out in a heartbeat.

Gear and Goods: A cabin within Glistening Wood, a set of various musical instruments, his prized lute, clothes for different seasons, and many different books, scrolls, sheets of musical compositions, and a pen for writing.

Unknown:

The Fate of Ward 8: A Tokyo Ghoul RP

@Banana@BCTheEntity

Grant

He watched her fret about when Ketsu had shown up. Curious behavior. Even her response he could tell was elevated by Ketsu’s presence. How intriguing. People were always so intriguing what they would give up about themselves. So, she must have been a romantic. He’d write that down in his notes later. Slipping the voucher back into his pockets, he grabbed his carton of cigarettes and grabbed another one out.

Lighting it. He continued to study the both of them. Ketsu was exceptional in every way and Grant wanted to know what he would give up. It wasn’t like he was a fool, he noticed Ketsu oddities when he began to bring up coffee shops. Not good at talking about people? Or hiding something? The thought made Grant excited that anyone would try to hide something from him.

The Birdcage. Grant smirked only a little bit. Oh Ketsu you would suggest something like that. The idea made him curious. What would happen if they walked through the door? He heard things like it was meant to be a place of peace between Humans and Ghouls. What peaceful reaction would they get? He wanted to laugh at the idea. What else was hidden in Ketsu’s head? Let him in.

Though on a more logical point of view he didn’t want to be the one to start wars. Imagine the headlines. It was, what was the word, an amusing idea. Another logical reasoning was his current budget. He’d likely not afford the Birdcage right now.

“Ketsu you have such interesting ideas,” Grant said, he would, what was it, humor his talent he supposed. Grant paused in to take a long drag, before letting the smoke slowly out with an exhale.

“But, what would Yuno and I do in that circumstance?” Grant asked trying to “joke”, “You’d surely be more able in that situation if things didn’t turn out peaceful. Your rise to your ranks earns you such favoritism. Even I admire it.”

Grant tried a half smile on his good side of his face. Though most likely Ketsu already knew what he was. He turned to Yuno.

“I am though pleased you are willing to get coffee,” Grant said, “Sadly we won’t be able to go to somewhere as wonderful as the Birdcage. But I hope you enjoy affordable coffee just as much.”

Grant stepped aside as if to make the suggest, “Ladies first. Today is such a nice day we would be burdened to sit in a vehicle. So I suggest we walk.”

It was always nice to also see all the little people burden themselves with their inner turmoil. Again he was not in here to threaten his coworkers. Yuno was harmless enough that he didn’t think there would be any problems. He could handle her in doses. It be interesting to see what she was like. How she walked? How she interacted with the world? How closed was she? Would she give him everything he wanted to know right away or try to hide it, like Ketsu?

The possibilities excited him. Well as much excitement as he could feel. It was more like a burning compulsion, but he had learned to know that compulsion could be considered excitement.

The Fate of Ward 8: A Tokyo Ghoul RP

Her attempt was to frighten him, wasn’t it? She thought she was a big bad wolf, granted he had to be careful around every Ghoul in this city because he knew nothing about them. But he had seen worse experienced worse. All she managed to do was some unsavory and unhygienic lick of his cheek.

She really knew nothing about him. So the bitch had nothing really to use against him. He just stared at her, and smiled delightfully as if none of it he paid mind to. One day he’d cut her tongue off for doing that to him.

“Thank you so much for all your help,” he said innocently and sweetly, “You’ve been most kind.” Something about Travis expression made him roll his eyes internally and he grabbed Travis’ hand. With a sweet sickly innocent he said, “Shall we?”

He paused, “You promise to show me all the wonderful hot spots, right?”

The Fate of Ward 8: A Tokyo Ghoul RP

Grant

@BCTheEntity@Banana

Grant studied Miss. Jericho as she began to walk up towards him. He was briefly blinded the vision of a puppy, one with cute floppy ears. It was quickly replaced back with the woman with brown hair, standing more directly from him.

She was an anomaly to him, maybe to most of the department. She didn’t particularly strike him as anything. Which could be a bad thing and a good thing. He’d have to continue watching her for a few days. Figure her out. Wear her mind.

“Miss. Jericho, I presume,” he says, he watches her for a second. To give him the reason she was late. He just smirks slightly. It’s interesting to see what people think they can get away with. He caught that she wasn’t being entirely honest with what she had to do with her time.

But instead of saying anything about it, he says “I understand perfectly what that is like. When work piles up and drags you in.” he gives a very dry laugh that anyone listening could have caught was dry and hollow.

Before she responded his eyes turned to Ketsu. Ketsu fascinated in all forms of the word. He was twenty-one, but quite exceptional. He heard of his deeds and accomplishments before, how extraordinary his results were in the physical exam, how much Seto had on eye on him. It fascinated him. And here he came with a friendly greeting towards them. That fascinated him as well.

He flourished around Miss. Jericho. He wondered what went on in Ketsu’s mind. He’d like to wear his mind sometime too. Just to see what it was like in there.

“Ketsu you came at the right time,” Grant said, he didn’t see no need to stop what he was planning to do in the first place. Grant stuck his hand in his pocket, taking out a voucher coupon with five stamps on it, “Miss. Jericho is my new partner. And in good faith, I was going to treat her. How about I treat you as well?” Grant pauses, what is that phrase that escapes him sometimes?

“The more the merrier right,” Grant says trying to remain as charming as he could right now. Sometimes people needed reassurance he was on their side.