BigPapaBelial

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

@Kumbaris@13org@King Cosmos

The exhausted Shaman and his troupe of performing Gods

Michael sat there a time letting his pipe st eagle whistle rest across his chest. The three gods spent a moment rubbing the surface of the drum. Something oddly respectful in the action. After a moment Michael smiles at Faye. He nods "The shaman of the Americas have tried very hard to retain the rituals and magic of the old times. It's more caring I think more appreciative of what we have and thus can say we lived well with what we have."

He gives another big smile "And then..." He trailed off watching the tail end of the young girl being lead to the afterlife. As the girl reaches the door he calls to her "Nimis, I'm happy I met you. You really helped us. Rest well." The girl smiles and giggles then with a little skip she follows Madeline. Michael hums at Faye's comment. "Magic is magic. It's the intent not the source." He nods then looks about.

As the drum shrinks back down to hand held size he begins to pack up everything. Except for the pipe stem he actually breaks out the carved Jade stone bowl that has been shaped into am eagle theme with outstretched wings and taloned feet. As the gods finish cleaning up Michael packs the pipe bowl with Indian tobacco. The pure stuff. Attaches stem to bowl produces a box of matches and with a swipe lights match sets flame to tobacco and begins to pray in Cree. An aura of peace and calm pulsing from the man. The pipe smoke billowing about him. A prayer to those lost and to the grace of friends and family. Closing put the ritual he had performed. The magic of it kept the residual portal in view but the ritual he performed appears to be complete.

The Prophecy of Ash (A Dark Souls RP) ~Re-Boot?~

Loony Bin?

Name: Lorkan Du'Pree

Monikers: The Erstwhile Scholar, The Shunned Student

Place of Birth: Vinheim

Gender: Male

Appearance: Standing some 6 feet tall even, thin and severe, with long lanky black hair that reaches under his shoulders. His skin is pale and waxy textured. His fingertips have been nearly permanently stained an inky black because of years spent writing papers, and then after a fateful event long hours spent writing out personal notes and spell formulas. He will often be found wearing Vinheim student attire but since he is no longer with the school he has had it customized to be made of black soft leather. The cap changed into a broad brimmed hat, similar but not to the degree of another famous scholar.

Status: Unhollowed

Biography: Growing up in Vinheim, pretty much from day one Lorkan had been fascinated with Sorcery. He'd watch from the sides of the street while helping to sell his families shoes at their cobbler's workhouse. As he would help to nail the leather soles to the base of the shoe he'd look over towards the school and watch the sorcerers and scholars come and go. A time or two in his youth he saw none other then Big Hat Logan come and go. He'd watch in awe as Sorcerer's would come out sometimes to show their spells to people and advertise the merits of entering the Dragon School.

He aged as all humans do, and when he was old enough he managed to procure a scholarship, and entered the school as a student. And though he wasn't as high on the social totem pole as some within the walls he was studious and intelligent. He worked hard. And gained the right to learn the secrets of sorcery. Some of so called greater standing would try to bring him down, but he'd soldier on. Using everything his scholarship would be able to give him. Soon outstripping those naysayers.

But then that's the main reason he fell. Him doing so well not only gained him enemies among the young lords and ladies who studied at the School, but it also left him often without anything to study and learn. So he began to branch out. Always with the promise never to touch the darker of the soul arts of course. When once in the library he found himself in a dark quiet corner, and there on a pedestal left out perhaps by someone by accident was a journal of a place long lost. Words like the Abyss, and Dusk, and Oolacile. He didn't know what it was, but in it he found the blueprint to a spell.

Weeks later he thought himself alone late at night at a practice ground. His Soul Spears and Soul Arrows and Soulmass came easily as he practiced. Until he couldn't resist. Taking his catalyst in hand...and the burst of magic was heady. A black blast of sorcery raced across and obliterated the target. He panted grinning from ear to ear. There had to be more to learn. And there was, but he never learned a new spell. He practically lived in the Library gaining a pale complexion and waxy skin. He studied every book he could find about the Abyss. Until one day he was found by three students and four teachers. Hunched over a lectern amongst piles of old tomes.

A tribunal called, and he was accused of studying magic that is forbidden. He would argue that as Dragon School students was it not their right to study all types of sorcery? The tribunal of the headmaster and other teachers would find him guilty. Banned form the school, exiled from Vinheim. But the addiction still held strong. A need to find more of those dark magics. Learn them all. And Prove the Vinheim School wrong. He journeyed to Anor Londo, and the areas around it, in hopes of finding more. For the books spoke of there being an Abyss there. And the Abyss had yet to steer him wrong.

Personality: A determined, and driven Sorcerer. Quiet and direct as he knows what he wants to do and there is little else he wants to do. He will care for himself, eat, sleep what have you, but he has a personal quest and he is dead set on doing that. He at this point may not be completely sane, his quest to learn more dark sorceries is all that is on his mind, that and the heady burst of pleasure from casting them.

Skills:

Dragon School Sorcery(Positive Skill) - Knowing almost all of the base Soul Spells. The Arrows and the Spear and the Soulmass, as well as a single Dark Orb sorcery.

Bookish Intelligence(Neutral Skill) - A student and researcher at heart. He's gained a great deal of book knowledge. But is somewhat inexperienced in real life knowledge.

Addicted to Forbidden Knowledge (Negative Skill) - Having had a taste of dark soul magic, he now has the addiction that brought places like New Londo and Oolacile low, an addiction to dark things.

Equipment: Sorcerer's Catalyst, with a clear caduceus pattern to it. Dark dyed leather Vinheim scholars outfit. Unadorned short sword for personal defense. A backpack full of supplies, food, water and magical scrolls and parchment and writing tools.

Other: Calling dibs on the first to go right mad as a hatter before the end of the RP.

The Prophecy of Ash (A Dark Souls RP) ~Re-Boot?~

Good afternoon.

I'm assuming this is still on the table?

And if so, I'd like to throw my hat into the ring if that's alright.

And if not that's fine. I can just observe.

The Prophecy of Ash ~Open For Jolly Cooperation!~

So is this still on the table?

Mad Max: Gastown Derby

Let's not keep this buried.

Hopefully there are others out there who might want in?

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

Shaman Crane and the Trickster Trio

The drum continued to thunder. The steady beat having drawn in spirits of the germanic indigenous peoples as well as a variety of North, Central and South American spirits who appeared in regalia and are circling the drum dancing and moving with the heat.

The ritual drum and ceremony has been going on for a few songs now. But it's clear the quartet are tiring. Yes even gods can get tired. Michelle brow is boring with sweat and he appears to almost be smoking or steaming with the effort and magical focus he's dishing out. The gods are looking tired too. Who knew a god could sweat? And by now the sacred offering of sage sweet grass and fungus have almost burned out. Michael and the gods trade a look. Then look about at any one gathered. Michael nods and starts a new song. He holds up a finger and before beginning to sing he calls "Hoka!"

About half way through the song. Raven and Manabozho suddenly whip off their headdresses. Several spirits in the dancing circle take caps or hats off. And moments later Micheal produces one of the most powerful tools he has. His pipe but without the bowl. Taking a deep breath he blows into the st producing a low pitch whistling tone. Another wave of power flaring out. And through the song he does that a total of four times.

But soon the song comes to an end. The last of the ritualistic magic swirling about keeping any local magic glowing and showing clear. But the four at the drum seem to be tapped at the moment. Michael makes one last long drawn out blow on the whistle in his pipe stem. Then he sits. The ritual having taken put quite abit out of him.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

A long reach and one of his last pieces of semtex is placed in the under carriage of the Linebacker, this thing would be the worst problem for the incoming tilt rotors. A pair more pieces, that he can rig up to his last remote detonator. And those for the fuel tank. Really rock the house. Eric looks over to make sure he's in the clear then darts across the tarmac. He knelt beside a stack of ammo crates. These would add to the blast later. He looked arouned then spotted the two on the hill. He brought out a small flashlight, red in color, just bright enough that as he flashed it a few times.

Nolan scanned the tarmac and his eyes set upon a small red flashing dot. He reached out and patted Andrew, "Our boy is ready for us." Nolan rolled over and settled next to his rifle. "Now then Mr. Support. You make the count." He grins at Andrew, "Don't you ever think you're not an integral part of this team brother." He lines up his shot, "Holding on guard on the left, the one with the engineer pack." He checked his wind and range finder gauge, "Yo...conditions changing. East-west wind, 7 knots, slight updraft. Counting about 970 meters to targets." He sniffs then looks out again and just before Andrew begins the count he hums, "You know, there's this story that ran the length of the Pats and the Regular infantry some years back. JTF-2 sniper, can't remember the guys name. Was out in Iraq, picked off an ISIS fighter at three thousand five hundred and forty meters. That's Three and a half kilometers. Said he had to fight two cross winds to do it. Now we're shooting at less then a third of that. But look at our cross winds." He points down towards their targets and thanks to the snow they can see they have no less then four crosswinds to deal with, and one of them appears to be a downdraft, "We're not making history on this shot, but I don't think a sniper has ever had to deal with this much additional elements." He sniffs and adjusts his scope, "Hold...two pips up...and..." He looks out again, "I'd say if you're brave two pips either side to compensate for those cross winds."

Eric in the meantime readied himself, his karambits slipping out of their holsters just in case...

Nolan hums, "Ready when you are Andrew..."

Skyside Victor's face split in a grin, "Wisest choices we ever made was each other I think min kjærlighet." A rare moment of Norwegian from the Iroquian-Norwegian mix. He laughs and wraps an arm around Natalie as she's leans in close, his own painted cheek resting against hers. This is the best part of this relationship, she cared, he cared, they both loved. They could die any day from a rocket or missile hit, the roar of a heavy gun cutting them down, but this here, now, is the part that matters most. he let her go and he finished prepping, sliding a belt of grenades into the Denel.

Meanwhile Carl looked up, and smiled flashing Natalie a thumbs up, "Suited and booted Ma'am." He looked down at his phone in his lap, "I may have taken a picture of you and the Sargeant-Major over there, but I'm likely to just keep that as a memory. Not everyday a guy walks with Gods." He grins. "Ready to rock and roll though." He slings his arms around Jenny and Ross' shoulders, "We're here, and ready to roll."

A moment later Victor stands and looks to the rest of the unit with them, "Alright listen up ladies and gents. Fifteen!" The group calls back, "Fifteen aye!" Victor continues, "Remember your pathing, keep your actions clear, get off this bird ASAP, and steer clear of the fire works. The Major has the plan, follow on us. Use the Juggs and us two as cover as we roll forward. As soon as we're clear, the bird leaves. This isn't low-jack, so be ready for close and personal. Do you get me?" The soldiers signal their understanding in various ways from calling out confirmation to nodding. Victor looks back at Natalie and the other Juggs, "Another thing, I don't want to see people coming back from this with full magazines. Don't shoot yourself dry too quick, but don't fret to use your ammo. Someone points a gun at you from the other side you mow them down and put a round or two extra into them to make sure." He scans everyone, "You don't need me to tell you this is Important." He nods, "Hoorah!" An echoing, "Hoorah!" Roars through the plan as Victor walks towards the back of the tilt rotor and the closed ramp, "Check your kit. And make ready." He reached up and placed a hand on the cieling of the tilt rotor to brace himself and grinned at his fellow juggernauts, "Onward onto glory once again!"

My RP Wish List

Suggestion: Start fleshing out the ideas some. There are a fair few elitist folks here who won't even take a second look at RP ideas unless there is more meat to them. As is there isn't alot here for anyone yet to really get in on.

I will admit to some of them in here peaking my interest. But well I don't have alot to go on quite yet. But you won't have to write out a 20 page essay to get my interest.

Just flesh the ideas out some so we have some more broader idea of what to expect.

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

The Shaman

Micheal knelt beside the shade of the girl until Amanda joined him, "I'm afraid it is indeed a child. She's not of this world. And as we were setting out the ritual elements she didn't react to them badly so she's not a wight or something like a skinwalker. So she's not here to cause ill intent." the girl suddenly bursts out, "Stop talking like I'm not right here...or...wait...you said...not of..." She looks at herself and begins to cry, "Mama...Dad...are we..." She looks up at Amanda and Micheal. Micheal sniffing then nodding, "I'm afraid so nîtim." The girl whimpers, "Can you help?" She asks. Micheal hums, "I'm not exorcist, but maybe you're still here because there is something you need to do, or something you can impart. Can you remember anything?" The girl looks in thought for abit.

After abit of silence she looks at the pair, "We...were on vacation. Dad always wanted to come back to Germany. Said his family was from here." She licks her lips and continues, "Well dad was driving and you know how guys in a car can be." She looks at Micheal almost meaningfully, "Hey I got a Harley back at home. I don't drive a car if I can help it. I'm my own navigator." He chuckles softly. the girl giggles, "Well we were lost. And well wanted to know how to get back to the main area of the city...I mean no hotels around here right?" She looks around and sighs, "Dad stopped here because he saw a bunch of guys outside. Mom went out first and when she didn't come back Dad and I came over to check and found the guards kicking and beating Mom..." she winces and grabs her shoulders, "When dad cried out in horror they saw us and one of the guard did something with his baton, there was this...blue light. It hit dad in the shoulder and he fell and hit his head..." She starts to cry. And suddenly Whiskeyjack is there gently wrapping his arms around where he figures she is. The girl leaning against the god, "Mom was on the ground...and that's when I noticed this big glowing...swirling...I don't know door? Yeah a door in the air." She looks out one of the main doors out the east entrance to where they are, "It's out there." Micheal looks over, then calls back to Manabozho and Raven, "Pack up the stuff again! I think there's a better place."

He turns back to the girl, "Can leave this area? Can you show us the place?" He looks up at Amanda, "If there was a portal there, the eddies of magic will be particularly strong. The ritual will take alot better." The girl hums pulling free of Whiskeyjacks hug and dashes out the east entrance and towards the doors. She can ghost right through but Micheal, the gods and maybe Amanda if she's of the mind, have to race after and pull the doors open. The girl is standing in the parking lot on the other side of the building from where the police are still working. She stops beside a mountain of old rotting crates and gestures, "It was here!"

Micheal smiles, "Can you smell it Amanda? The magic is strong here. It's like rain and wet earth, a pure smell, like a cool wind over a lake or river. That's magic on the air. Or atleast how I sense it." He waves to Manabozho and Raven, "Over here! Set it...here." He walks to a point, "It's strongest here." The girl calls out, "I think...I feel a pull over there." She points towards a section of what appears to be dug up earth in a corner of the lot. Micheal looks over then to Amanda, "Graves? So...the guards may have panicked then murdered the three, and to hide it buried them there do you think? I can't send souls on. It's not something I've been strong at. But helping us may help her move on. Do we know anyone who can help her? I've got a ritual to perform still but the child deserves some peace." The girl perks up, "I...can leave?" Micheal looks over while helping the gods put the ritual items in the proper places, "I hope so nîtim." the girl giggles a little, "What's that mean anyway?" she asks of Micheal who is just sitting down on the bear skin, "It's the Cree word for my female cousin." He smiles, "Didn't think you'd mind." He grins as he picks the drum up.

Micheal is about to start in on his handdrum when Whiskeyjack stops him takes the drum and with a burst of magic only a god can pull off turns it into a full size drum. Three feet across, two feet deep and thick. Micheal hums and looks at the gods who are producing chairs and proper drum sticks. Micheal snorts, "Some times you all surprise me. Alright..." He takes a seat and lights the sweetgrass, the sage and fungus. Setting them burning in sea shells beside the drum. He sniffs and takes a drumstick. Looking at the three gods then at Amanda, "Wanna see something cool?" He grins brightly. Then turns to the gods, "Alright Hoka! Let's go!"

The first beat of the drum sends a wave of magic out from it. And then the four begin the Indigenous ritual. The pow wow is one of the strongest rituals. Not just a gathering of the peoples together for fun and celebration. But when used as a ritual, a grouping of singers and the drum produced powerful magic indeed. As Micheal takes the lead in singing, it starts small, a kind of general pull. Magic about them swirling, eddying. As the ritual and drum continues, the magic answers. Spreading around the warehouse grounds. With every heavy beat that Manabozho lays to the drum more magic rises, with every high note that Raven hits, every harmony note that Whiskeyjack meets and every new stanza that Micheal sings the magic in the area answers, until there they can see the glimmering remains of a former portal. More magic flaring about the warehouse and the grounds as he goes.

And the four play on to keep the ritual going, assisting the others as best they can with the flowing magic of a aether stabilizing ritual picking out the magical from the mundane.

@Kumbaris@King Cosmos

Mad Max: Gastown Derby

@Paradoxial So is this a No go?