Eric Horst

A Guild Adventure: An RP with Monster Girls! (ENDED)

@ZekariVoblis I'm not sure if I find that to be an interesting way to die or a horrifying one. :P

A Guild Adventure: An RP with Monster Girls! (ENDED)

Anti-Heat Potion? Wait what. Oh wait I know what you guys are going on abo- oh.

Oh my.

A Guild Adventure: An RP with Monster Girls! (ENDED)

Alright, here it is, if you're wondering, they actually are human, they just have some demonic power left over from a demonic possession, if that doesn't work for you then I can change that, I just wanted to play something a little different then a normal human being. Your RP though, if it doesn't work for you it's an easy fix for me. ^^

Kai Truhorgan, The Drifter

"I'm whatever you want me to be, unless I want to be left alone."

Name: Kai Truhorgan

Appearance: An almost unremarkable looking human being, except for the odd aura they give off. They stand at a perfect height of 6 feet tall, with the build of either a very flat chested woman, or an average-thin built man, even on a close survey, it's impossible to tell. They are more often then not seen wearing a long cloak that covers their body until their feet. Underneath is a simple long sleeved tunic, trousers, boots, and a chain-mail shirt. They wear finger-less gloves all the time, even in their sleep.

Race: Human?

Magic/Abilities/Equipment:

Although they possess no outwards magic, Kai seems to be able to run at speeds most humans cannot, along with the ability to pull off incredible feats of strength when angered, far more then a standard adrenaline rush. Being a as of yet unidentified gender, they can fool just about everyone into believing they are one or the other. The longsword strapped to their back is for far more then show, and they can give even masters a tough time, though they are far from infallible. The blade of the weapon is magically enchanted, allowing them to attack even normally intangible creatures, though the downside means the sword is more of a glorified club, unable to take the life of anything.

Personality:

Kai is normally calm and reserved, but that's mostly because they are by themselves a lot. They are an introverted person, possibly explaining the unexplained gender. Around others, they are very quiet, rarely speaking out loud, and generally keeping to them self. They are easily flustered when complimented, and don't seem to give off an aura of either masculinity or femininity at once. They don't seem to have much of an interest in affairs such as wars, and often wonder why others are so quick to fear the unknown. They are a very open minded individual, and they don't see monster girls as much more then fellow people. However, their opinion on humans is not nearly as open, and they actively try to avoid them when interaction with one is unnecessary.

They often find themselves in abandoned areas, or places generally uninhabited by humans, and as such, they enjoy exploring and adventuring.

For whatever reason, they don't seem to understand why being whatever others want them to be causes a lot of misunderstandings. Either way, they sometimes get free drinks off of flirty men and female bartenders, so that's a plus.

Background:

Although they are known to randomly appear in towns when in need of supplies or a drink, what else goes on inside their head and during their time is largely unknown. The cause mostly being a lack of interest or a lack of direct answers from Kai themselves. When persuaded by a pushy bartender, they mentioned being chased out of their village when they were found in the center of town, surrounded by the bodies of several residents. When asked by a barber, they mumbled something about demonic energy and left it at that.

Although they generally kept to themselves, beings such as Kai are magnets for trouble, and after a run in with a drunken gang member in a tavern, they attracted the attention of the rest of the gang when their comrade came bursting into their base of operations, babbling about
some girl, or maybe even a guy, who had backhanded them with the flat of a sword.

Kai spent the next few days fighting them off until their boss finally was angered enough into showing up himself. Kai still has a scar under their eye from the fight, the gang leader was dumped into a lake.

Shortly after, they were approached by Bartholomew Barker in a letter. The letter was crumpled up and forgotten, at least for a while. Curiosity is a powerful thing after all.

Other: Ghosts are one, but Slimes and Centaurs are also a favorite. I don't really have any one reason for any, I just do. ^^

A Guild Adventure: An RP with Monster Girls! (ENDED)

Room for one more?

Twisted Tales ~ Once Upon a Nightmare

If there's still room, I'll make a CS right quick. ^^

Pitch of the Night

I was going to ask, but it looks kinda full at this point... darn. ^^

Surviving Sentinel Island

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LOCATION: Beach
INTERACTIONS:@JazzyJuniper, @Leshy, @Forecaster
TIME OF DAY: Evening
HEALTH: Optimal (Minor Cuts and Bruises)
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He was heavier then he had first anticipated.

Eric thankfully wasn't supporting the older man full on, but he was quickly realizing that walking a roughly 200 pound injured man across sand wasn't nearly as easy as he had first anticipated. He wasn't expecting it to be a walk in the park, he had escorted drunken friends home more then once, but most of them had been easier to cooperate with, and most of them weren't over 160 in terms of weight. Regardless, wincing slightly as the cut on his back stung momentarily, the young man helped his older companion over to the closest tree, a large, decently shady palm, dark enough to keep the injured out of the sun, yet still light enough to keep any insects that might lurk within the jungles of the still yet unknown place to a minimum.

Gently lowering himself and the older man to the ground, he carefully helped him lean against the tree, grimacing as his back stung again. His frown deepened as the older man and him left contact, and he took a step back, staring in the general direction of the one he had given aid. Internally, he cursed himself for showing weakness. These people, this guy, were all in far worse shape then he, and for gods sake, one had just been cauterized, one of the worst possible treatments known to man, no matter how effective it's crudeness was. Externally, he just seemed generally unpleasant, not that he had seemed like a cheery person to begin with. There wasn't much time for that anyways, they had more important things to take care of.

A small gust of wind blew past him, and he shivered momentarily, before giving a small nod to the older man. "We'll be close by, holler if you need somethin..."

Without another word he turned away, and trudged back down towards the beach. The small campfire caught his attention, and he approached gingerly, pausing to stare at the two, his hands buried in the pockets of his wet jeans. His right hand withdrew, pushing his bangs from his eyes, and he took the opportunity to speak.

"From the looks of things, you two probably don't need much assistance from the woman over there." He gestured in the general direction of the good lady doctor. He paused for a moment, running his gaze back over the two, the man, who didn't look much older then him, and the woman, around the same age as the woman hell bent on burning every single one of them alive. That was going to be a joke he'd try and remember later on. "Y'two need anything in particular? I'm gonna search the rest of the beach for other survivors and possibly whatever else I can find."

At that point, he was ready to carry every single suitcase and bag he found washed up on shore back to the group. The urge to help the other members of the failed flight was running through his thoughts, and as annoying as petty sentiment was, he would need whatever loot they found slightly less then the others.

Surviving Sentinel Island

________________________
LOCATION: Beach
INTERACTIONS:@Aamaya,@JazzyJuniper
TIME OF DAY: Evening
HEALTH: Optimal (Minor Cuts and Bruises)
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___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Eric Horst

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Glad his awkward words had gone mostly unnoticed, and feeling able to move, at least a bit, Eric shakily stood to his feet, shrugging his own thicker trench coat off his person, which revealed several large gashes the piece of clothing had sustained, and presumably what had kept the man decently uninjured. His two shirts were plastered to his skin, and a hint of red flashed from a spot near his upper left shoulder. It stung, and he reached back to feel for any damage. His hand came back to his face to meet with a small smear of crimson. He allowed his coat to fall to the sand, and he hurriedly flung off unbuttoned the remains of his dress shirt, followed by the Tee he wore underneath. He felt his back again, finding the source of the blood. A decent sized cut had been made to his back. It didn't feel deep, but if he hadn't had his trench coat, it might had been far more then a simple slash. It didn't feel bad enough to waste time on, so instead of bothering the woman, who was already in the process of tending to another, marking her as some form of doctor, at least from her actions. He lifted his dress shirt from the ground, clenching it tightly within his hands, as he began the process of tearing it into fair sized chunks. The fabric tearing reminded him of the process of tearing meat apart with his teeth during dinner time, and it would later strike him, that he might never eat a normal, juicy steak, ever again. His hands were still shaking, and he fumbled several times with the knot, but he finally managed to tie the make-shift bandage around the wound, much like a bandoleer the military used for carrying extra ammunition or small explosives.

The wrapping felt sturdy, if a bit crude, but he could fix that later, for now...Tossing his shoes to the side, watching the faint traces of water from within them spill out like a tea cup slammed down to hard, he pulled his socks off, watching them peel off his feet, and tossed them onto his trench coat. His jeans were soaked, but uncomfortable with taking them off, he left them on his legs, feeling the fabric make attempts to cling to his legs, to no avail. They were simply the wrong material to stick to flesh when wet. Brushing the seat of his pants off, the wannabe detective turned back to his clothing, and slowly lifted the trench coat from the sand, grains sticking to the surface of the surface.

His gaze met it, and he found himself transfixed with the coat. The gash that cut through the upper left half of the simple long coat, had been one of the reasons he probably still had his arm. His memory on exactly how he had escaped the plane was hazy, a mist he couldn't see through, possibly due to the sheer panic, and hysteria he and the other passengers had gone through, but no matter the case, he might have lost function of his left arm completely if he hadn't been wearing the heavy article of clothing. The coat was a winter gift from his family a few years back, and he enjoyed the look so much, he almost never was seen without it. The coat was both a gift, and his trademark. He was that pissed, average looking bastard in the trench coat that people walked a wide circle around in public. He often had found himself laughing at such events when he was alone. He vaguely remembered one of security members asking if he was seriously planning on wearing it into the plane, and to their destination of all places. Eric had merely glared at the guard, allowing him to check the contents of the coat for any hidden weaponry of any kind, before allowing him to continue on his way. A few of the other passengers had stared at him oddly for keeping the trench coat on his person the entire flight, not that it had mattered much to him. It probably didn't matter now, they had probably been swallowed up by the sea by now, their bodies making decent meals for both predator and prey fish alike. Then he remembered how he had nearly been swallowed by the water himself, and that brought a close to his reminiscing.

The sand deforming under his feet after every step, Eric trudged over to the woman and the man she was assisting. He was just in time to see her finish the cauterization process, and he couldn't help but be impressed. She was resourceful, and this pretty much proved she had some sort of medical background. The sun's heat was both their ally, and a possible enemy, as he took a quick glance at it, quint-ting as the rays of the slowly setting sun stared back, almost taunting them for the situation they now found themselves in. His eyes flicked back down to the man. He was older then him, by a good few years, but he seemed like a tough one. One of those former military types. The kind who looked down on people like him. He didn't plan on stooping to the level of his college peers however, and merely offered a hand.

"Need a hand?" His tone was flat, neutral, but it was the thought that counted. At least in Eric's eyes. He wasn't expecting a thank you, or even anything friendly, but they were all in the same boat. What choice did they have but to try and work together? Not to mention, from the looks of him, the woman, and the other washed up survivor's he could see, they were in worse shape then he was. Far worse.

Surviving Sentinel Island

@Leshy Yeah I thought as much. Y'know, it's almost a shame that a character with such depth has to die though. Such a shame, oh well, that's roleplay life.

Surviving Sentinel Island

The amount of depth that went into this character, and he only exists to die? Not sure why but I find that to be amusing. Well made regardless.