It looks like we've got a fair amount of interest out of the gate, then! I'll get to work making the actual OOC soon. (:
EchoicChamber
Member
Something Forgotten
STATUS: Much to the surprise of everyone, I am not dead. 4 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 2 mos ago
- Joined: 9 yrs ago
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- EchoicChamber 9 yrs ago
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Much to the surprise of everyone, I am not dead.
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Bio
I'm EchoicChamber, though I mostly go by Echo.
I'm in my twenties, and returned here on a whim.
I have no idea what's happening at any given moment.
I'm in my twenties, and returned here on a whim.
I have no idea what's happening at any given moment.
Most Recent Posts
Superheroes. Nasty, bothersome things, the whole lot of them. It seems like every other day a new, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed young super makes the news, having saved the day with their marketable powerset and a winning smile. And with the sheer number of heroes that were popping left and right out of the woodwork, it would only stand to reason that a school would be constructed to teach these up-and-coming stars. To guide them in learning how to control their powers. To teach them that something something great responsibility yadda yadda. And, most importantly, to polish their public image to a shine. One superhero school became two, which became seven, and the numbers only continued to explode from there until it seemed like everywhere you looked there was one of those damned academies around the corner.
This is a story about a school. A school for only the most prestigious, the most intelligent, the most powerful. The ones with the most potential to take the future in their hands, and shape it to their own liking.
Oh, no. It's not one of those horrid "Mrs. Goody Two Shoes' School for Precious Angels" institutes, don't get us wrong. This is a story of the other side of the coin. With all those hero highs out there, it only stands to reason that there would be schools for the opposite, wouldn't there? Schools for not only villains, but super villains. A place where any blossoming evil genius or aspiring anarchist could go to hone their talents, and one day, potentially be the next great ruler of the world.
The Lanius School of Villainy and Mischief is one of, if not the most impressive academies for young villains out there. Staffed by some of the most famous villains, and offering ample opportunity for shadowing and field work, it's the perfect place to pick up truly diabolical knowledge, and learn how to apply it in a practical fashion. The school caters to what it refers to as the Four S's- Suavity, Smarts, Strength, and Stealth- and offers faculties catering to all groups. Competition is fierce, and students are encourage to form rivalries and squabble over top positions and valuable mentorships.
Today is the mark of a new school year. Students of all ages and all specialties are arriving, while those who have seniority are merely rolling their eyes and going back to whatever it is that they're busy with. Will you find new enemies this semester? Rise to the top position? Perhaps, even, make genuine emotional connections and warm memories that will last a lifetime, and then-
Ha! What a joke. Villains don't make friends.
...Or do they?
Greetings, everyone! I'm Echo, coming back from a hiatus to bring out a brand new interest check.
This roleplay centers around the Lanius School of Villainy and Mischief, by villains, for villains. If you have an antagonist idea you've been dying to try, this is the place to do it. Do you have a serious villain who wishes to destroy civilization, and is willing to toss aside their morals to do so? Is your villain a card-carrying ham who wants to twirl their mustache and cause chaos for the fun of it? Are they a baby serial killer? An evil genius? Someone who has no idea what's going on, but is very, very strong and very exploitable?Then this is the roleplay for you!
I'm hoping to create a lax, laidback atmosphere with this RP. I'm not going to demand pages upon pages of writing for a single post, so as long as you write more than a few lines, and give enough for characters to react and respond to, it'll be good. This RP will also be heavily character and character-dynamic driven, and will encourage people to come forward with their own ideas and really go out there in terms of content. There will be some underlying plotlines, but the main focus is upon the characters themselves.
If you have any questions, let me know! I hope that you'll join us for this mass of insanity.
Hello! I'm also interested.
Hello! Is this still open?
I'm back! I'm sorry for being gone for so long- I can try and make a post soon. Real life had just kind of socked me in the face, but I'm trying to climb back into the saddle. I'm also sorry if I've been the reason things have slowed down as well.
@Polyphemus I'm also sorry I haven't posted just yet. I've been away for similar reasons to Martian, in that my brain has just been kind of on a less than fun ride, and I've been trying to get my brain juice back in order. I'll try to post as soon as I get it back in order though!
You know it’s bad when the actual child looks at you and goes “maybe you should settle down there, champ.”
@BenG85 He's my horrible little hellspawn and he's so fun to write.
Posted!
Officially introducing you all to my smug little bastard child.
Officially introducing you all to my smug little bastard child.
The Kings of the Night were gathered here.
Some were immortals, beings of unspeakable power who had carved their names into the world in much the same way water carves a path through stone. Others were mortals, who had- in some ways, arguably more impressively- wracked up their own fair share of horrors under their belt, who had their names whispered in the dark alongside ghouls’ and demons’. The shadows themselves bowed at their feet. They were gods among men. They were the Council, and they were the top of the top.
And rather predictably, the room smelled so heavily of pride that it permeated the room, clinging to the curtains and becoming just as much of a backdrop as the wallpaper was. It applied more strongly to some than others, of course: that little, smug sense of “I know better. I am the smartest, or the strongest, or both, even. I am a King among Kings- no, a God among Gods.”
Gael was no stranger to pride, himself. His father did so adore that particular sin, and had passed it down to his child the moment that he sired him. But even Gael could recognize that there was hardly any room to strut about feeling superior. They were a collection of big fish in little ponds, and had now found themselves in the biggest pond of them all.
Though not all of them, he conceded, were the same size. Both literally and figuratively.
The Prince Abomination sat at his place at the table, cheek propped up in one hand, idly chewing on a praline cookie he had produced from his bag (he had packed clothes for himself, of course, but the Antichrist had a terrible sweet tooth, and he was well aware that he probably wouldn’t arrive to cabinets stuffed to bursting with candies when he arrived). In order to actually meet the eyes of his fellow council members and not just be left peeking over the table, he had set several cushions on top of his chair, and was perched on them now as the meeting began. Though Dracula didn’t have any plans to run a kindergarten out of his castle anytime soon- to Gael’s knowledge, at least- it didn’t change the unpleasantness about navigating the place as a young boy. He had been forced to let himself get scooped up like a newborn kitten and dragged to the castle if he wanted any hopes of making it to the meeting on time, and even now his collar still reeked of raw fish.
If Dracula came back, or was replaced, perhaps he could speak to the leader about some improvements to make things slightly less annoying until he was older. Arriving to Cluj-Napoca had been the easy part, as all it had taken to get to the airport was some sniffling and "I lost my daddy"s, but everything else? Absolutely terrible. But that would have to wait for another time.
First things first was to address the points raised in the room.
“I must admit, Monsieur Garnier,” Gael began, “that I believe Mr. Talbot and Mr. Marsh have raised good points. We have no reason to think that this Doctor is an enemy, outside of the Count’s disappearance. It could have been a warning or a threat, but we wouldn’t know for sure unless we find the letter. It could even be a test.”
He kicked his legs back and forth as he spoke, taking special care to mind his pronunciation of longer words. There was still something inherently high and babyish about it despite his efforts and articulation, though, softening the edges of some words.
“And Monsieur- I was hoping to ask you about your plans if the humans tried to trap us.” There was an implied “and of course you would have them”, there. “I, the child, wouldn’t dare think that the genius who trapped the opera house, who ran his sway through Paris, had no plans for the worst case scenario.”
Gael had done a bit of light research on what council members he could. People usually liked knowing that they had been heard of, and he doubted creatures of the night were any exception. Especially with the amount of ego getting waved around like a flag.
“They could agree to give up Paris, yes? But then once we are gathered there, they could destroy it. They have many different toys to use, Monsieur, and not all of us could survive them.”
He could see it now. A gathering in the town square. A party, celebrating their escape from humanity once and for all. And just as the toasts were lifted, the warhead dropped, flattening the city and turning them to ash, and that ash to dust.
The City of Light, forever in darkness- just like how Monsieur Garnier asked. How deliciously ironic.
Some were immortals, beings of unspeakable power who had carved their names into the world in much the same way water carves a path through stone. Others were mortals, who had- in some ways, arguably more impressively- wracked up their own fair share of horrors under their belt, who had their names whispered in the dark alongside ghouls’ and demons’. The shadows themselves bowed at their feet. They were gods among men. They were the Council, and they were the top of the top.
And rather predictably, the room smelled so heavily of pride that it permeated the room, clinging to the curtains and becoming just as much of a backdrop as the wallpaper was. It applied more strongly to some than others, of course: that little, smug sense of “I know better. I am the smartest, or the strongest, or both, even. I am a King among Kings- no, a God among Gods.”
Gael was no stranger to pride, himself. His father did so adore that particular sin, and had passed it down to his child the moment that he sired him. But even Gael could recognize that there was hardly any room to strut about feeling superior. They were a collection of big fish in little ponds, and had now found themselves in the biggest pond of them all.
Though not all of them, he conceded, were the same size. Both literally and figuratively.
The Prince Abomination sat at his place at the table, cheek propped up in one hand, idly chewing on a praline cookie he had produced from his bag (he had packed clothes for himself, of course, but the Antichrist had a terrible sweet tooth, and he was well aware that he probably wouldn’t arrive to cabinets stuffed to bursting with candies when he arrived). In order to actually meet the eyes of his fellow council members and not just be left peeking over the table, he had set several cushions on top of his chair, and was perched on them now as the meeting began. Though Dracula didn’t have any plans to run a kindergarten out of his castle anytime soon- to Gael’s knowledge, at least- it didn’t change the unpleasantness about navigating the place as a young boy. He had been forced to let himself get scooped up like a newborn kitten and dragged to the castle if he wanted any hopes of making it to the meeting on time, and even now his collar still reeked of raw fish.
If Dracula came back, or was replaced, perhaps he could speak to the leader about some improvements to make things slightly less annoying until he was older. Arriving to Cluj-Napoca had been the easy part, as all it had taken to get to the airport was some sniffling and "I lost my daddy"s, but everything else? Absolutely terrible. But that would have to wait for another time.
First things first was to address the points raised in the room.
“I must admit, Monsieur Garnier,” Gael began, “that I believe Mr. Talbot and Mr. Marsh have raised good points. We have no reason to think that this Doctor is an enemy, outside of the Count’s disappearance. It could have been a warning or a threat, but we wouldn’t know for sure unless we find the letter. It could even be a test.”
He kicked his legs back and forth as he spoke, taking special care to mind his pronunciation of longer words. There was still something inherently high and babyish about it despite his efforts and articulation, though, softening the edges of some words.
“And Monsieur- I was hoping to ask you about your plans if the humans tried to trap us.” There was an implied “and of course you would have them”, there. “I, the child, wouldn’t dare think that the genius who trapped the opera house, who ran his sway through Paris, had no plans for the worst case scenario.”
Gael had done a bit of light research on what council members he could. People usually liked knowing that they had been heard of, and he doubted creatures of the night were any exception. Especially with the amount of ego getting waved around like a flag.
“They could agree to give up Paris, yes? But then once we are gathered there, they could destroy it. They have many different toys to use, Monsieur, and not all of us could survive them.”
He could see it now. A gathering in the town square. A party, celebrating their escape from humanity once and for all. And just as the toasts were lifted, the warhead dropped, flattening the city and turning them to ash, and that ash to dust.
The City of Light, forever in darkness- just like how Monsieur Garnier asked. How deliciously ironic.
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