Inuyasha

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

I think I'm going to apply to this, although I've heard rumblings of an Mk II, however, I'll get working on a CS anyways :)

Inuyasha's Character Cache

Name: Darius Abd-al-Hakim

Nobility: Son of the Duke of Tripoli

Sex: Male

Race: Mixed, African & Syrian

Age: 25

Physical Description:

Darius

Darius' Scimitar

Rank: Cornet

Magic-Rank: None

Goals/Aspirations: By virtue of his father's treatment towards him, Darius has a subconscious psuedo-inferiority complex which is constantly fueling a limitless desire for power and success. He wants nothing more than to ride the coattails of affluence, almost in defiance of his father's cold, unwavering indifference towards him. Anything that serves as a materialistic currency of success is square under Darius' iron sights; the size of his estate, the wealthiness of his friends, the gaudiness of his armaments, et cetera et cetera. Darius will use any symbol of prosperity to fill his bottomless heart, and his greed for affluence is unbounded. However, above all, Darius aspires for accolades and recognition in his post. He wants nothing more than to hold higher office in the battlefield of the Imperial Tagmata; he is a cardboard cutout of a man propagated by his lust to command respect and wield the force of the Dragoons.

Personality: Darius is a well spoken individual, having been afforded the rare luxury of a complete education offered by his nobility. He is personable and kind, however places the utmost stock in his post as Cornet. He values achieving the task presented before him by the Tagmata above all else, and all other upshots are inconsequential. All he has ever known is a loyalty to his state, and this is what fills much of his shallow personality. Darius prefers to think tactically of a situation first, rather than charge headlong without properly assessing all the variables. Weighing all decisions, and considering everything a tactical choice is ingrained deeply into who he is.

Backstory: Darius' father was a French-African noble, something of an uncommon sight. His father, a diamond tycoonist, made his fortune on the backs of the manual labor and slavery of his own race. Incredulously, his father partook in the slave trade during the early 1700s, buying Africans to put them to work tirelessly in his mines. His father was not a self made man himself, his fortunes coming from his father before him. He had also inherited the oligarchy of wealth and autocracy that strangled the province of Tripoli for generations. His father was simply the next to bear the torch of nobility in a region of poverty and exploitation.

Born to a Syrian handmaiden of his father's, Darius and his father had a cordial, businesslike relationship from birth. His father showed no affection towards him, viewing him solely as a tool that needed to be sharpened. He did not believe Darius was fit to inherit his colossal economic empire, due to what he had said was his "sickly character." Instead, he deemed Darius best suited for a life in the military, claiming Darius was as brash as a Trojan. Darius was sent across the Mediterranean to a boarding school in the Arabian Peninsula in order to train to become an officer in the Tagmata. His father seldom wrote to him, and when he did it was a letter drafted by a butler or a servant informing him of how much was left of his studies. This had never seemed out of the ordinary to Darius; that is, he never truly stopped to consider it. That had just always been the nature of his and his father's relationship, and he never truly stopped to question it.

The school was not a state-sponsored affair, rather it was a private school ran for the children of the wealthy with aspirations to become decorated soldiers. Darius would spend the months practicing swordplay, studying advanced tactics theory, horseback riding, and listening to lectures on how to properly and effectively lead a unit. In the off months, a servant would come by ship to Darius' school and take him through Mosul to Baghdad in order to stay with one of Darius' uncles for the summer. Darius' uncle was a wealthy Arabian farmer, one who had little time to be preoccupied with a relative's child. This afforded Darius great personal freedom, and he spent much time exploring the crowded and teeming narrow streets of the city. Summers in Baghdad were hot and fast, and the days seemed to bleed together; it always ended too soon, and it was back to the schoolyard for Darius.

At his graduation from the Academy, his father was not able to come to congratulate him. A servant was sent as an envoy of his father's in order to congratulate him in his perseverance through his studies. After returning home by ship to little fanfare, his father paid his commission to join the Tagmamta as an officer. All that was left was to await his assignment, and to go through formal training. Darius was not worried however; he had prepared his whole life for this, dedicated his entire livelihood to this sole cause.

Ｄ Ｕ Ｎ Ｅ Ｓ: ♣ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴏʏ ♣ [[ Hi Cas ]] -- [[ Post Apocalyptic ]]

I can't wait to see more characters, honestly. Also, no votes for the theme?

@Treue

Ride the Fire

Terra Magica (Open/Accepting Players!)

Pandora sat atop a colossal pine, her legs dangling beneath her. The sun sat high above her, poised in the sky on it's azure, blue throne. It was perfect weather; not a cloud in the sky, yet at the same time it wasn't sweltering hot. She reached into her satchel pack, which sat slung over the tree as well, and pulled out her jerky pouch, which she had just purchased this morning. She gingerly pulled out a piece of jerky, before tying the pouch shut and placing it back in her pack. She pulled the cloth that covered her face upwards from her neck, exposing her mouth and neck. She began to nibble and chew on the jerky as she watched nature unfold below her.

On the ground, about 200 feet below where Pandora laxly sat, was a one-room building. Pandora theorized it was an old forest park ranger's outpost, or perhaps some kind of makeshift dormitory. Pandora looked towards the sun, it's rays bleeding into the horizon. A pack of Piranha lizards would rove through any minute now, and she had made sure she was high atop, in the canopy of the forest. Piranha lizards were nasty little things, although it was the sheer amount of them that made them dangerous. They came in swarms, comparable to locusts, and hundreds of aggressive lizards would storm through an area, eating any living thing they could get their snappy little jaws on. She would also have to be wary of the clanners to the south, as she had just caught sight of a patrol of them making their way towards her general direction. However, if she timed everything right, she would be able to avoid both the bandits and those nasty little biters.

Suddenly she heard the sound of scurrying and and little teeth gnashing carry up to her. She looked up at the sun, then back down to the sea of swarming lizards below her, a throng of little green reptiles surging between the trees. Pandora quickly put the jerky back in the pouch, hastily packing up her backpack. She made sure the backpack was securely strung to the branch of the tree -- she would be back for it later. She turned to the hills in the south, scanning the environment for the clanners she had spotted earlier. She zoomed in on what seemed to be a blob in the distance, revealing a convoy of Clan raiders. If she had to guess she had about ten minutes before they were passing through the area, but if everything went according to plan, she would be long gone by then.

Soon the Piranha lizard pack had passed through, save a few scalene stragglers. She was not worried however, as the viscous little reptiles were only dangerous in numbers; by themselves, they weren't very threatening (although getting bit by one would still hurt!). Pandora began her descent from the tall pine tree, dropping from branch to branch with consummate agility and ease until she was at the base of the tree. She stood in front of the doors of the old outpost, pausing for a brief moment before kneeling down in front of the doorknob of the entrance. She pulled out a two bobby pins from her back pocket, fiddling with the lock on the door. She heard a ker-chunk and then the door eased open. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, her hopes for loot high.

---

Later that day...

Pandora walked up to the center of Ambrosia, her backpack slung over her shoulders. She had founds some good first aid kits and materials in the outpost, and they would fetch a pretty penny. She had some other things left over from trips she had made earlier as well, and as a result she was looking to sell a good amount of her items. There was a large commotion in the area, and she knew it must have had to do with the Railroad project that the town was supposedly employing, but she so far had no interest in participating.

She made her first stop in the back alley of a weapons shop. She walked up to the door that led into the back of the shop, knocking deliberately three times fast, and then two times slow. She waited for what seemed a minute, and a burly man with balding hair greeted her at the door, looking at her quizzically.

"Err.. Can I help you...?" he began, looking her up and down, raising an eyebrow at her garb.

"I'm looking for Keenan," she said shortly and curtly, her voice coming out metallic from the voicechanger.

"Ah, yes, Keenan. I'll be right back," the man said, recognizing what Pandora was here for, and went back into his shop.

A much skinnier dark skinned man emerged from the door way; Keenan. "Ah, my friend, you are back again!" he greeted him, continuing, "I got a worried I wouldn't see you again -- after all, it has been over a month. What have you got for me today?"

"The usual," she said harshly, offering no more information, simply holding out a brown leather sack.

"That's all? You've been smuggling me crystals for over a year now, and you never try and spark anything with me. For christ's sake, I don't even know your name," he said, chuckling. He pulled out a slip of paper with his signature scribbled on it from his back pocket. "Here, you know the drill. Give it to the cashier next time you come in, it'll guarantee you the usual haul," he continued, taking the sack whilst simultaneously handing Pandora the scrap of paper, "So, since I've got you here, what is your name?"

"Somethings are better left unknown Keenan," she responded, before briskly turning her shoulder, and scampering down the alleyway and out of sight.

"Christ," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

---

Pandora had just finished up selling the last of her scavenged first aid kits at the markets, and the sun was begin to sink in the sky like a capsizing sailboat. She closed her backpack, it's contents much lighter from the day of selling, and slung it over her shoulder, ready to head back out into the wilderness to look for a place to stay for the night.

"Hold up there Pandora." A voice gruff, weathered and worn, came from the darkness of a alley. A man, of vaguely native american origin came limping towards her. Jerimiah Talbot, one of the finest hunters to ever live, gestured for her to stop. "Good thing I caught you before you headed out again."

She was stung by the mention of her own name. Very few, if any, knew her name, and she had grown accustomed to never being referenced to by name. She turned around slowly, looking him up and down. She recognized him, it would have been hard not to; despite her absence from civilization for a good portion of her life, she still recognized someone as historical and famous as Jermiah Talbot.

"Mr. Talbot," she said, unfazed by someone of his stature, her voice changer warping her voice, "How odd it is to see you. I couldn't imagine what someone like you would be interested in me for, now if you'll excuse me --"

"You've been drafted." He lifted his hands in a apologetic fashion. "Now. I know you don't go along to well with the rest of us folk. That is fine. We, rather, I have vouched for you to be in a fronteir group. They are all good, solid and reliable people. And you'll be out and away from the big masses. You'll be doing what you always been doing. Just with money and back up behind you."

Pandora had been hearing all about the draft for the past few days, and she had told herself she would have no part in it. Of course Talbot would have known about what she had been doing, she had gotten a little sloppy in recent months and had had some encounters with some hunters. She cursed herself for being so careless, and now the secret in her skills was out. Her mother's words rang in her head -- "People are not to be trusted Pandora" -- warning of the dangers and errs of going the way of the more beaten path. Despite Pandora's best attempts to weed it out, her mother's paranoia had become ingrained in her conscience. Pandora quickly scolded herself, telling herself that her mother was not here anymore, and she was free to do as she wished. She didn't need her mother telling her what to do, especially after how crazy she turned out to be.

"What would you have me be doing?" she said rather crudely.

"Helping the other scout out and mark the way for the new railroad." Talbot said, smiling slightly. He knew this was as much an admission of interest he'd ever get out of Pandora, and rolled with it.

Pandora's inner struggle and turmoil within her conscience made her pause for a second, but ultimately the more adoptive side of her won out. "This is the first and the last time I do something like this Mr. Talbot," she conceded begrudgingly.

"Duly noted. I don't mean to step on any toes. But you are the best of the best when it comes to tracking and avoiding unneccary risks. You'll have my word, that once this is over, you won't be bothered again."

"Good," she said unapologetically, "Where to, Mr. Talbot?"

"They are awaiting you over at the Silos. I trust you can find your way there?"

Pandora offered a simple, "Yes," and then she was off.

---

Pandora approached the hulking, red silos, which were deeply contrasted against the Prussian blue sky. She walked up the gravel path that led to it, her boots crunching on the dirt. She saw a group had already congregated, however, she kept her distance, wary of them.

Furor Titanicus

Seeing as all seem to be taken, if I expressed interest would I be playing a Branded?

Ｄ Ｕ Ｎ Ｅ Ｓ: ♣ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴏʏ ♣ [[ Hi Cas ]] -- [[ Post Apocalyptic ]]

@Heat Approved, go ahead and post it under the character tab :)

Ｄ Ｕ Ｎ Ｅ Ｓ: ♣ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴏʏ ♣ [[ Hi Cas ]] -- [[ Post Apocalyptic ]]

First batch of character portraits are done (just for me and @Treue). You can use them as headers to your posts if you like, if not, no worries, they're there to spruce up the character page.

First Set

Terra Magica (Open/Accepting Players!)

@Hellis I had a quick question:
Is there any definitive list of fauna? I wanted to have Pandora be sneaking by a pack of fauna, and I wanted to know if there was any list of known fauna, just to make sure I'm abiding by the lore.

Ｄ Ｕ Ｎ Ｅ Ｓ: ♣ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴏʏ ♣ [[ Hi Cas ]] -- [[ Post Apocalyptic ]]

@Treue Okay, that's all good then, I've added your character to the approved in the character tab. Join me in the waiting game for more CSes!

Ｄ Ｕ Ｎ Ｅ Ｓ: ♣ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴏʏ ♣ [[ Hi Cas ]] -- [[ Post Apocalyptic ]]

@Heat In theory, no not really. People mostly barter and trade with each other. However, the most universally regarded (at least for the settlement of Eden) are ration cards which can be turned in for food and water to the paramilitary group that runs the colony. However, it should be noted, these ration cards are completely self dependent on the Masks, and useless anywhere outside of Eden. So technically there is a currency, but not really.

@Treue Okay, everything should be in order. I'm going to assume that some of those possessions will be stored in your car as that would be a ridiculous amount of things to carry on your person. Go ahead and post your character in the CS tab.

@Zorogami I've been thinking about your character, and I think you could just make an NPC be your characters be her protector if nobody else wants to volunteer for the job. Or if that doesn't strike your fancy I could volunteer my character as having saved him/her