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5 days ago
Current aight i guess i'm now part of the 99% of all games in this site that didn't finish
20 days ago
If a tree falls in a forest and there’s no one around to hear it, is it the next Nickelback concert venue?
1 like
3 mos ago
A pig just won the lottery. You could say he's filthy rich
1 like
3 mos ago
Rest in power, Technoblade. 🐷👑
3 mos ago
"I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda." - Melvin "Big Smoke" Harris, 1992


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Name: Gentileschi, Henri Dominique.
Species: Half-automaton, half-golem.
Age: At least a century (factual), thirty-something (appearance).
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Looks like a regular handsome middle-aged man with greying black hair. When viewed from relatively close, his skin has several slices throughout, and the reflective sheen of the inflexible ceramic material it's made of could not be mistaken. Dons any such variety of male medieval formal wear.
Bio: History tells of a great human painter from more than a century ago. Henri Dominique Greene. His works, signed 'H.D.G.' at the back, still adorn the walls of Kindeance's castle. Portraits of old monarchs. Images of nature, oddly lacking for animals. A medical document stating that he began coughing out blood, whenever he painted animals who'd then come out alive from their canvases. A letter to the royal mage whom he courted and was later engaged to, informing of his decision to isolate from society. A second letter, an invitation to his funeral, held at the Greenes' mansion.
None but the King have yet made the connection between that painter of old, and this non-painter who shares nearly the same name, aside from the surname of his true mother before the Greenes' adoption after her passing. Nowadays, he roams the kingdom as a mage and handyman, and, since very recently, lecturer to the prince.

Skillset: Inorganic body. Immune to physical pain. Immune to basic needs like food and sleep. Absorbs and fueled by mana. Converts most sources of energy into mana. Resistant to most forms of magic. Unburdened by weight. Eidetic memory. Can sense metals and the global north direction. Can mimic others' spells, given enough exposure or instruction.
Spells: Telekinesis
Inorganic Repair
Temperature Increase
Core Spreading - Injects a piece of his golem core into an object, qualifying the object as himself for the purposes of other spells. Lasts for up to 2 spells.

Equipment: Pocket watch
Metal flask: mineral oil

Other: Spells only affect those under at most indirect physical contact.
In Lost RPG 5 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
In Lost RPG 17 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
"Right... There just seems to be a spell for anything, isn't there."

Henri watches as Ember looks like she's straight up reversing time with her spells. She looks like she's having fun. The rate at which she just converts some nearby foreign ingredients to tracelessly mix with his garments is particularly interesting.

As she finishes and urges him to give it a go, he immediately whips his left arm forward, the speed of which reaching a point where it causes a loud 'pop' sound. He reins his arm back to his side as he twists and moves the fingers of his right hand. It's all good, as expected, yet his mood is beginning to sour a little. His head turned only halfway towards Ember, his eyes pointed slightly left of the campfire.

"While I do feel grateful for this seamless repair that you've applied... Do not get it twisted. You're only repairing something that you damaged in the first place."

The corners of his eyes glowed a dim teal, and suddenly his eyes move independent of his face, giving Ember a side-eye. Still no eyelids, however. He brushed the left side of his hair, shortened as it were, and planted his left elbow on the armrest to lean his head on. An eye peeks between his fingers, expressionless.

"Even if in jest, I was imagining more on the lines of assistance or protection, granted maybe you're the least of all people who'll ever need it, but these stipulations feel like... It'll come down to something I'll inevitably object to.

Provocation as it were, it was still provocation by mere words. You reacted to them with action. Don't think you can strong-arm me into an unfair contract, into repaying you for fixing what you broke.
" A hint of spite in his voice.

He turns his chair to face Ember, and sits up properly. His voice reverts to something calmer. "If you're still truly pressed about when I barged into your room, possibly interrupted your work, you may call on me to assist you with whatever. Honestly, even if you're not, just, you know. I do find you attractive and intriguing, and I want to be a friend. That's that."

He then points to his shoulder, with his right hand. "For this however, I think we're even. No, in fact, we're less than even, but I think I'll just solve the problem of these damaged enchantments on my own." He then bows. "If you'll excuse me, Ms. Ember."

He then slowly rides away.

Henri... The black-haired man on a wheelchair hears talks around Nanashi and the other passengers about looking for utensils, and ventures back into the shore. Something he most especially can help with, with his ability to sense nearby metals. As he rides across the sands, random metal objects get uprooted from the sand, and he leaves it for the other passengers to find later on.

Occasionally he pauses. Bouts of pain from his inner metamorphosis still linger.
In Lost RPG 17 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
Henri stayed in this position of leaning forward, his severed left arm moving on its own to lift a hand that hasn't been there for several moments now. Eventually, Henri's torso started listing forward and he let out a groan as his body, normally incapable of feeling pain, still hurt all over.

"Sounds like I'll have to pay up... I only have around 20 silver coins... Would my loyalty suffice? If you find value in having me on your side, anyway."

He slowly sat up straight, and the backrest of his wheelchair rose back up to its normal position, and he sighed as he leaned onto it. His hair, swept back and frozen leaning towards the right due to the explosion, a part of it on the left of his face had its length reduced, no longer concealing his lack of human-shaped ears. All that was there is an indented plate of steel forming a pentagon pointing down, with a notch at the top to secure his eyeglasses which, the left lens of it is also cracked.

His severed left arm, its hand grabbed his abruptly amputated right arm, and he swung it back to latch onto his shoulder, but a lot of parts are missing. "No, I figured I'll have to make do with more mundane materials, one of these days. It's fine."
Red-hot iron rose from within the depths of his body and started filling in the gap, as well as his missing right hand. It looked so obvious, this silver chunk on his body amidst the pale white ceramic. It amused him. "Scars to remember you by when this trip is over."
He probably needs to cover this up, though. This large hole on the shoulder of his coat surely doesn't look fashionable, right? These iron wounds would attract unneeded attention, too. He glanced at Ember and was about to ask if she could mend his clothes and loan a spare right-hand glove, but he remembers her current bout of nausea.

"Wait. How inconsiderate of me to provoke you into exerting your power. Do you want to exchange seats? It's leather. Comfortable. You can sleep on it. Well, actually, I just assume it's comfortable, I can't actually gauge for myself if it truly is."
In Lost RPG 19 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
Henri immediately realizes the vastness of Ember's power, indeed far too much for his measly golem core to contain. Inundated by this massive surplus, his rock-shaped core, for the first time in its tenure, begins to liquefy and expand, and it causes him great pain. He groans. It hurts. It's like being violently pulled apart in every possible direction.

In no time at all, his core expands to a point where it would fill every crevice inside of his body, and he would bloat and explode for real. The backrest of his wheelchair falls down, and his upper back and neck opens like several tiny double-doors, and orange-hot tentacles violently creep out, looming over them like a freak balloon.

It's strange how gently his body made way for this excess, it's like it's planned, hidden in his subconscious, like this was meant to happen. He remembers the time when he sought to create this alternate self, how he merely skimmed the pages of his stolen books to get to the result. What if, in the midst of that, he forgot a step which would coincidentally say 'expose this core to an endless source of magic', and all this time it was the reason why he'd been having issues not unlike lethargy?

> "When I said it would pop my wand, I wasn't kidding, dahling--- So, is this enough, or do you need more?"

Still in tremendous pain, his senses dulled by this massive influx of mana, his shivering left hand reaches to grab Ember's arm on his chest, trying to weakly pull it towards him, as if goading her to step it up. As he did so, the glowing amber tentacles turn into bright sapphire and sink back into Henri. The incandescence peering through his joints turn into the same sapphire hue, as the bloating core condenses and forms a structure throughout his body, like a more erratic nervous system. Images of 'internal organs' appear in his memory, ready to be constructed should he possess both the necessary materials and desire.

However, even this evolution seems inadequate to contain this endless flow that Ember yet continues to give, as she yet again increases the rate at which she gives it. A hint of damage in his left shoulder begins to give way, a weak spot amidst the protections granted by the now-visible sigils across his body. He tries to cover it with his right hand but it still explodes, making him turn and dislodge Ember's hand off his chest, ending this lightshow.

This damage might've been back when Ember hurled him across the lower deck and into one of the ship's pillars. He did neglect to check for damage after that incident, he just figured there wouldn't be any.

The hand holding on to Ember's arm slides off and drops to Henri's lap along with his entire left arm, and his right hand is fully gone, blown to bits. Yet, he slowly moves his left arm under Ember's wrist and lifts it to touch her hand with his ceramic mouth.

"... Fine. You are power itself," he says during. He really doesn't bother to move his mouth when he speaks.
In Lost RPG 20 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
"You can't just ask for a foc-- All of them require sentimental value. Are you sure it's even you and not the focii you use? You seem to place them on too high of a pedestal."

Nary an inch of movement. Seems like the black-haired man on a wheelchair has gone full standby to recuperate his losses. A more discerning person would detect a mosquito merely hover nearby and subsequently fall down, dead.

"Henri. My name. Some might call me 'Wheelo' or 'Carter' right now though, for I told them these as my name. It... Yes, okay, I didn't think these names through, don't mock it."
In Lost RPG 20 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
The black-haired man snickered, pieces of his face sliding apart to form somewhat of a smile, hearing of this potential 'glowing hole' in his torso. "I'm sure I would've been able to survive it."

His 'smile' dissipated as he climbed back up his chair and moved beside Ember. "No, I was looking to ingest your discharge, actually. My mana's running low and I need it to move around. It's a net negative for me to even swing my arm, we don't regenerate it with our stomachs like you do. Plus there's..."

"Not really much connection left back home. As far as being cryogenized goes, it's just me here right now."

The backrest of his wheelchair descended slightly, setting him slouched. "I suppose it's a bit heinous to try to extract from an already nauseated woman. I apologize."

An awkward delay.

"Is Ember your actual name?"
In Lost RPG 20 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
"Bah. Threats." He tited his head up then fell back-first on the sandy floor. "I only did it that one time, I was too preoccupied to know if someone was in the roo-- Whatever, these excuses matter little to anybody."

He raised his left arm up, his hand wide open. Rays of the sun peering through his hand, through the leaves way above it, hitting his ivory eyes directly. He puts his gloves on one by one and unfolds his sleeves, and soon he notices Ember staring at him, possibly analyzing his humonculous nature, and so he tilts his head to look at her and she averts her discrete gaze and speaks.

"... I won't," he replies. Either a resignment of pride, or refrain from further argument, but that's that.

"I do want you to hit me with your conjured fire, though." He pushes back up with his arms, his torso slanted and head tilted back facing her. "Let me feel your actual power, not that of a mere showman who creates bubbles and fog in excess."
In Lost RPG 20 days ago Forum: Free Roleplay
"The chair's not a factor in my abilities..."

The black-haired man on a wheelchair moves closer to this person sitting on her luggage, parallel facing the campfire. His head turns between the campfire and Ember, and in search of that widow and her child whose issues seem to have been placated. "I see. Would you allow me to aid you in this light work? I'd like to make amends for when I barged into your quarters without plea, and to fix my image in your eyes because I am not a pervert."

He removes his gloves and pulls back his sleeves, revealing hands and arms made of ceramic. He drops from his chair, kneels and holds his hands into the fire, absorbing some of its energy. "You attract me, I will admit, but never to a point where I'd lose any such self-control." Orange glows emanate from the linear cracks in his skin, crawling from his hands towards his torso where some kind of core must be, for something of his make.

He falls back and sits unkempt while reaching again for a flask in his coat. He pulls down his face covering, and drinks the last bit of water-like liquid from the flask. Fully empty. He shakes it for the last few drops, and puts it back in his coat. "By the way, I did borrow the card you gave the woman named DeVespe, which... I don't think I've seen her nearby so far."

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