@Skittlez as previously discussed, Nikita is accepted and you may move her to the character tab and begin posting in the IC at your earliest convenience.
Lord Wraith
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Thunderbringer
- Last Seen: 3 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Lord Wraith
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
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Bio
Reluctantly retired roleplayer.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Except when I'm not.
Why are you here when you should be writing posts?
You can edit a bad draft, but you cannot edit a blank page.
Most Recent Posts
Welcome to RPG! I hope you find what you're looking for here!
@Holy Soldier After reviewing your CS we have several comments we want to address:
One of our recurring comments kept coming back to the lack of struggle the character seems to face. You mention throughout the CS several times how Victor doesn't want to be violent but at every turn, he seems to just give in to his 'nature' and comes out on top treated as a good guy. Neither Junk, Hillan or I find ourselves convinced that Victor is facing any real struggle to not give in to his more violent side. In fact, it seems every time he does so, he's rewarded, he was promoted from Hitler's Youth into the SS, he convinced the Americans that he was on their side and his body is actually benefited from it. It would be nice if there was more of a struggle between the two sides.
One thing that felt particularly missing to me in the backstory was how Victor learned to speak English and hide his German accent. I struggle with his decision to change sides during the war as I felt not having him impartially slaughter both sides was a bit of a missed opportunity. But to Victor's subsequent switch to the American side and integration into American society at the very least strikes me as too easy. Should he not have faced some sort of prejudice or discrimination in America? I haven't looked into it to be sure, but I can't help but feel that Germans would not have an easy time in a post-World War II America.
Outside of the lack of a perceived struggle with his abilities, we find that the power as it's currently presented has very few limits or weaknesses that aren't based on the characterization of Victor. Furthermore, his ability isn't as formally explained as we would like. There’s no hint to the upper limit of Victor's abilities, nor is his regeneration is also not fully explained as we have no idea how fast he can regrow a limb or heal from an injury.
The last thing we want to touch on is the fact that as a general rule, surgery isn't considered violent. It's a methodical operation that requires a lot of training and focus. It's not like surgeons just stab their victims and cut them open for fun. Is the act of bloodletting you're saying triggers his abilities or is Victor actively butchering his patients on the operating table?
One of our recurring comments kept coming back to the lack of struggle the character seems to face. You mention throughout the CS several times how Victor doesn't want to be violent but at every turn, he seems to just give in to his 'nature' and comes out on top treated as a good guy. Neither Junk, Hillan or I find ourselves convinced that Victor is facing any real struggle to not give in to his more violent side. In fact, it seems every time he does so, he's rewarded, he was promoted from Hitler's Youth into the SS, he convinced the Americans that he was on their side and his body is actually benefited from it. It would be nice if there was more of a struggle between the two sides.
One thing that felt particularly missing to me in the backstory was how Victor learned to speak English and hide his German accent. I struggle with his decision to change sides during the war as I felt not having him impartially slaughter both sides was a bit of a missed opportunity. But to Victor's subsequent switch to the American side and integration into American society at the very least strikes me as too easy. Should he not have faced some sort of prejudice or discrimination in America? I haven't looked into it to be sure, but I can't help but feel that Germans would not have an easy time in a post-World War II America.
Outside of the lack of a perceived struggle with his abilities, we find that the power as it's currently presented has very few limits or weaknesses that aren't based on the characterization of Victor. Furthermore, his ability isn't as formally explained as we would like. There’s no hint to the upper limit of Victor's abilities, nor is his regeneration is also not fully explained as we have no idea how fast he can regrow a limb or heal from an injury.
The last thing we want to touch on is the fact that as a general rule, surgery isn't considered violent. It's a methodical operation that requires a lot of training and focus. It's not like surgeons just stab their victims and cut them open for fun. Is the act of bloodletting you're saying triggers his abilities or is Victor actively butchering his patients on the operating table?
Welcome back! Glad you got your motivation back and looking forward to our paths inevitably crossing as fellow fans of the superhuman genre.
@Lord WraithWell, I thought I was helping by making a doctor, but an applicant got that idea in before me it seems. So we'll see.
Your doctor is much more specialized and at the end of the day, the career choice is probably one of the smaller factors we weigh the sheets on. Can't honestly say I even brought attention to both characters being doctors.
Deleted
@Holy Soldier & @Skittlez, I've conducted my reviews of both of your sheets, just awaiting feedback from my Co-GMs. We'll try not to keep you waiting for the yay/nay any longer than necessary.
I hope everyone had a good Christmas, I am back from my miniature holiday and will be catching up on administrative duties and the IC today.
@Holy Soldier Just want to give you the heads up that due to the holidays, Junk, Hillan and I won't be able to formally address your sheet until the 27th at the earliest. We appreciate your interest though and will get back to you as soon as we can.
There once was a woman who lived a life so strange it had to be true...
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Location Tír na nÓg - Milk Street
Post #2.24: Hexenblut
| The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. The past beats inside me like a second heart but I am its only survivor.
The lid to the top of the aged wooden trunk wouldn’t budge.
Try as hard as she may, Ellara could do little beyond shake the trunk as the entire truck beneath it rocked back and forth with each unsuccessful attempt. Ellara had tried to pick the lock and when that had failed, she had lashed out at it. Kicking the trunk as hard as she could, all that Ellara had succeeded in doing was putting another dent in the older model Dodge.
Returning to the interior of the Tír na nÓg, Ellara headed towards the maintenance closet before opening it and retrieving a hammer from inside. Turning around, Ellara walked to the rear parking lot, climbing back into the bed of the truck once again, Swinging the hammer with all her might, Ellara hit the lock once, then twice and finally thrice before the head of the hammer snapped clean off. Watching as it flew over her shoulder, Ellara shook her head as it exited the truck’s cap now broken window.
Raising a bare hand, Ellara struck the corner in frustration before quickly recoiling in pain as the coarse metal corner sliced through her palm. Blood ran freely down her hand as Ellara cursed quickly and aloud, tucking the injury under her other arm for a second until a foreign sound demanded her immediate attention.
Blood from her cut had run down the front of the chest, seeping into the seam lining the base of lid and top of the trunk’s base as a strange hissing noise filled the back of the truck. A steam-like fog emitted from the seam, melting a previously unseen seal as a series of clicks suggested to Ellara the trunk had finally been unlocked. Reaching her hands out slowly, she placed them against the lid as it slowly lifted beneath the light force. As she did so, the front of the trunk began to open, either side pivoting outwards as it revealed several drawers hidden behind.
Ellara’s eyes were immediately drawn to an assortment of weapons that were carefully placed and displayed inside the aged trunk. Picking up one particularly large pistol, she turned it over in her hands slowly, her eyes widening as she was taken aback by the weapons’ three barrels.
Putting it down, Ellara grabbed ahold of the hilt of another weapon, drawing out a large blade. It was too short to be a sword, but far too long to be a knife, the blade was wide with a distinctive curved front edge contrasting with its straight back edge. Despite the size difference between blade and hilt it felt balanced as she gave it a quick swing before returning it and looking through some of the other items.
Her hand felt drawn to an aged book as it wrapped around the soft leather cover before lifting it up. The pages spilled open in her hands as a taunt, skeletal-like face stared back at Ellara, the dark empty sockets of its eyes felt as though they were staring back at her, the vivid illustration seeming practically alive despite being no more than a dark sketch on aged paper. She jumped back as the head turned to look at her before it suddenly changed into the face of a woman.
The woman from the other day.
Blinking, Ellara dropped the book as she quickly rubbed her eyes before looking down at the page again as the sketch had returned to its original grotesque visage, a single word above its head now drawing Ellara’s attention.
Hexenblut
“Witch Blood,” Ellara read aloud as the letters seemingly rearranged themselves before her eyes, the German words changing into English. Fascinated by the book, Ellara looked around to ensure she was still alone before tucking the book back inside the trunk and closing it up.
If she was going to be out here for awhile, then she was going to need food.
Try as hard as she may, Ellara could do little beyond shake the trunk as the entire truck beneath it rocked back and forth with each unsuccessful attempt. Ellara had tried to pick the lock and when that had failed, she had lashed out at it. Kicking the trunk as hard as she could, all that Ellara had succeeded in doing was putting another dent in the older model Dodge.
Returning to the interior of the Tír na nÓg, Ellara headed towards the maintenance closet before opening it and retrieving a hammer from inside. Turning around, Ellara walked to the rear parking lot, climbing back into the bed of the truck once again, Swinging the hammer with all her might, Ellara hit the lock once, then twice and finally thrice before the head of the hammer snapped clean off. Watching as it flew over her shoulder, Ellara shook her head as it exited the truck’s cap now broken window.
Raising a bare hand, Ellara struck the corner in frustration before quickly recoiling in pain as the coarse metal corner sliced through her palm. Blood ran freely down her hand as Ellara cursed quickly and aloud, tucking the injury under her other arm for a second until a foreign sound demanded her immediate attention.
Blood from her cut had run down the front of the chest, seeping into the seam lining the base of lid and top of the trunk’s base as a strange hissing noise filled the back of the truck. A steam-like fog emitted from the seam, melting a previously unseen seal as a series of clicks suggested to Ellara the trunk had finally been unlocked. Reaching her hands out slowly, she placed them against the lid as it slowly lifted beneath the light force. As she did so, the front of the trunk began to open, either side pivoting outwards as it revealed several drawers hidden behind.
Ellara’s eyes were immediately drawn to an assortment of weapons that were carefully placed and displayed inside the aged trunk. Picking up one particularly large pistol, she turned it over in her hands slowly, her eyes widening as she was taken aback by the weapons’ three barrels.
Putting it down, Ellara grabbed ahold of the hilt of another weapon, drawing out a large blade. It was too short to be a sword, but far too long to be a knife, the blade was wide with a distinctive curved front edge contrasting with its straight back edge. Despite the size difference between blade and hilt it felt balanced as she gave it a quick swing before returning it and looking through some of the other items.
Her hand felt drawn to an aged book as it wrapped around the soft leather cover before lifting it up. The pages spilled open in her hands as a taunt, skeletal-like face stared back at Ellara, the dark empty sockets of its eyes felt as though they were staring back at her, the vivid illustration seeming practically alive despite being no more than a dark sketch on aged paper. She jumped back as the head turned to look at her before it suddenly changed into the face of a woman.
The woman from the other day.
Blinking, Ellara dropped the book as she quickly rubbed her eyes before looking down at the page again as the sketch had returned to its original grotesque visage, a single word above its head now drawing Ellara’s attention.
Hexenblut
“Witch Blood,” Ellara read aloud as the letters seemingly rearranged themselves before her eyes, the German words changing into English. Fascinated by the book, Ellara looked around to ensure she was still alone before tucking the book back inside the trunk and closing it up.
If she was going to be out here for awhile, then she was going to need food.
| Several Hours Later...
Already on her third plate of Paddy’s famous lattice cut fries, or rather ‘Blarney Chips’ as he liked to call them, Ellara was still going through the trunk as she examined each and every item. Everything felt knew and familiar all at the same time, like she had seen all this before, whether in a dream or another time. Still though, there was a certain excitement in it before it suddenly dawned on her that she would need to move this chest.
With her Uncle locked up in the basement of the Nog, it was unlikely that he would notice his truck missing for an hour or two, but there was no way that Ellara could carry the trunk to her room by herself. Her mind drifted to Cal briefly, before she remembered that Natalie had managed to carry their recliner into the apartment by herself.
Deciding it best not to involve Cal in her personal drama, Ellara pulled her phone out of her pocket as she began to text Natalie. Whether for better or for worse, Natalie was involved with her by proxy, so it couldn’t hurt to get her help to carry the trunk up to the apartment.
She pressed send as the message was delivered to Natalie before sliding her phone into her pocket. A sudden knock on the side of the vehicle caused Ellara to slam the trunk shut as Paddy popped his head around the corner, obviously alarmed by the loud noise.
“Don’t tell me there’s a bloody body in there.” He stated, no humor present in his voice as Ellara quickly shook her head.
“Oh no, it’s just a fuckin’ empty old chest or something.” Ellara lied as Paddy nodded.
“Probably what he intended on keeping you in.”
“He fuckin’ say anything?” Ellara asked as Paddy simply shook his head in response.
“‘Fraid not, Lass. Passed out almost immediately after his wounds were dressed.” He answered before pausing, his mouth open as he hesitated before finally speaking. “I hate to ask, given what all happened earlier.” Paddy paused again as Ellara climbed out of the back of the truck before continuing.
“Could you throw on an apron and work by any chance? Stacy called in and I’m already covering the kitchen, I wouldn’t ask but my hands are tied here, Lass and you’re a tough one, you seem to be holding together. Say the word and I’ll find someone else.”
“I can do it, Paddy,” Ellara said with a forced smile.
“Thanks, Lass.” Paddy replied as he tossed her an apron he had been holding behind his back. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
“Apparently,” Ellara muttered as she caught the apron. “I’ll head in.”
“Oh and you might want to hurry, you’ve got returning customers from yesterday, try to make a better impression.” Paddy said as Ellara froze.
“The man and fuckin’ bitch from yesterday?” She asked as Paddy nodded.
“Yeah, the pair you ran out on. They might be critics, so hurry your ass up and get us a better review.” Paddy ordered as Ellara sighed before reluctantly heading into the Nog. Watching Ellara leave, Paddy waited until the backdoor had closed before pulling out his phone as he began to quickly type a message.
Pressing send, Paddy tucked the phone back into his pocket before following Ellara inside.
Grabbing a tray as she passed the bar, Ellara made her way out onto the floor as she scanned the room looking for the pair. Passing another girl, Ellara spotted the pair for yesterday as she approached them, placing the tray down as she looked at them.
“What brings you in tonight?” She asked Kyle, before turning her head towards Kayla, “Hexenblut.”
With her Uncle locked up in the basement of the Nog, it was unlikely that he would notice his truck missing for an hour or two, but there was no way that Ellara could carry the trunk to her room by herself. Her mind drifted to Cal briefly, before she remembered that Natalie had managed to carry their recliner into the apartment by herself.
Deciding it best not to involve Cal in her personal drama, Ellara pulled her phone out of her pocket as she began to text Natalie. Whether for better or for worse, Natalie was involved with her by proxy, so it couldn’t hurt to get her help to carry the trunk up to the apartment.
______________________7:24 pm
Me: Hey, if u r home 2nite, can I get ur help with sumthing?______________________She pressed send as the message was delivered to Natalie before sliding her phone into her pocket. A sudden knock on the side of the vehicle caused Ellara to slam the trunk shut as Paddy popped his head around the corner, obviously alarmed by the loud noise.
“Don’t tell me there’s a bloody body in there.” He stated, no humor present in his voice as Ellara quickly shook her head.
“Oh no, it’s just a fuckin’ empty old chest or something.” Ellara lied as Paddy nodded.
“Probably what he intended on keeping you in.”
“He fuckin’ say anything?” Ellara asked as Paddy simply shook his head in response.
“‘Fraid not, Lass. Passed out almost immediately after his wounds were dressed.” He answered before pausing, his mouth open as he hesitated before finally speaking. “I hate to ask, given what all happened earlier.” Paddy paused again as Ellara climbed out of the back of the truck before continuing.
“Could you throw on an apron and work by any chance? Stacy called in and I’m already covering the kitchen, I wouldn’t ask but my hands are tied here, Lass and you’re a tough one, you seem to be holding together. Say the word and I’ll find someone else.”
“I can do it, Paddy,” Ellara said with a forced smile.
“Thanks, Lass.” Paddy replied as he tossed her an apron he had been holding behind his back. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
“Apparently,” Ellara muttered as she caught the apron. “I’ll head in.”
“Oh and you might want to hurry, you’ve got returning customers from yesterday, try to make a better impression.” Paddy said as Ellara froze.
“The man and fuckin’ bitch from yesterday?” She asked as Paddy nodded.
“Yeah, the pair you ran out on. They might be critics, so hurry your ass up and get us a better review.” Paddy ordered as Ellara sighed before reluctantly heading into the Nog. Watching Ellara leave, Paddy waited until the backdoor had closed before pulling out his phone as he began to quickly type a message.
______________________7:32 pm
Me: Lot of parties interested in the asset, Tourists are back, Uncle tried to kidnap her.______________________Pressing send, Paddy tucked the phone back into his pocket before following Ellara inside.
Grabbing a tray as she passed the bar, Ellara made her way out onto the floor as she scanned the room looking for the pair. Passing another girl, Ellara spotted the pair for yesterday as she approached them, placing the tray down as she looked at them.
“What brings you in tonight?” She asked Kyle, before turning her head towards Kayla, “Hexenblut.”
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