Current
Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
5 mos ago
Forever and ever, amen
8 mos ago
Calling out from Scatman's world
1
like
11 mos ago
Called into action - by threats that seem harmonized
1 yr ago
Tomorrow comes
Bio
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Yeah! Dynamic poses are surprisingly hard to piece together decently because you need to be accustomed to perceptions of the angle you're drawing from. Especially if you're drawing people or weapons.
Or cars.
Or anything, really.
<.<;;
My request must be particularly difficult for you, then...my apologies for not considering that.
Yeh, I would've posted by now but I wanted to wait for everyone else's responses.
I figured as much in your case, but thank you for reassuring me regardless.
A sphere, half red and half white, with a little black band in between, was something very small and insignificant from a practical standpoint. Sure, Olivie had seen them all her life, as well as the staggering varieties of creatures with which they were associated, but for nineteen years the entire concept of training Pokemon never garnered from her a second thought. For too long, she knew, she'd concerned herself entirely with people—what they thought of her, in particular. More than anything, Olivie celebrated the end of that chapter in her life. All the same, she'd never realized exactly what she was missing until, from a birthday present given to her the evening of the day before last, she opened a measly little ball. Sitting now on a wooden bench just outside Central City's signature locale Delphine's Diner, she remember having been acutely puzzled as to just why her parents gave her, of all things, a Pokeball.
What followed, Olivie thought with a smile, had been an experience that had most likely ingrained itself on her mind as an irreplaceable memory. Her father, a quality assurance worker at a local corporation involved with Pokemon, explained his gift by telling her a story from his own youth, one never imparted to her before. Though it lasted more than an hour, Olivie found herself enthralled. The tale of a young man full of courage and ambition, traveling the world with a Pokemon friend by his side, seemed like something straight out of a story book. Her parents finished by talking about her, and what she'd been through over the last few years. As luck would have it, the very people she in her dark moments insisted would never understand her turned out to understand her even better than she did herself. Olivie's heart had swelled with joy as her parents told her how proud they were that she'd managed to sort out her issues and discover her identity. Recalling from their daughter's youth how much she treasured friends, they told her that the little ball in her hand would be the ticket to making friends to last her whole lifetime. In that moment, looking at the Pokeball, Olivie understood how much that measly object really meant.
The sound of a bell jarred Olivie from her reverie with a start. On her left side, the customer leaving Delphine's Diner gave her a quizzical look, hoping that he didn't scare her. Rather than a reassuring smile, he earned from the sitting girl a glare with one corner of her mouth downturned, her teeth together but barely showing, and her eyes half closed. “What're you looking at?” Faced with the expression of a person pissed and being disturbed, the man did not hesitate in continuing on his way. After watching him recede for a moment, Olivie stood up. After submitting her notice of quitting to the diner, she'd parked herself here to collect her thoughts. Now, after reliving the defining event of her birthday night, she felt more invigorated than ever to get started. She allowed herself one moment to adjust her hair, then started to walk.
Looking with the eyes of a would-be Pokemon trainer turned up facets of Central City she'd never really seen before. Practically everywhere she looked she could find a Pidove or two, picking at some scraps or waiting expectantly around picnic tables or cafes' outdoor seating. Olivie passed by at least two dozen and was nearing the river that ran south through the town's middle before she suddenly remembered the little device she'd gone out and bought with her birthday money: a Pokedex. Pulling it off her item band, she snapped the thing open. An older model, it did not sport any holographic interfaces or super-advanced displays, but it would do the job. Tickles ran down her spine as the Pokedex, aimed at a fat Pidove perched on a length metal rail along the edge of the river, dutifully recited, ”Pidove, the Tiny Pidgeon Pokemon. These Pokémon live in cities. They are accustomed to people. Flocks often gather in parks and plazas. This very forgetful Pokémon will wait for a new order from its Trainer even though it already has one.”
Following the explanation, Olivie found herself looking at the bird in a new light: one that stank. ”Not just stupid-looking, it's actually a bad Pokemon. Forget catching one of those,” she sneered. Turning left, she started walking north along the river, leaving the Pidove none the wiser. As she walked, she glanced into the water. A small school of ugly brown fish with pink lips swam by, causing Olivie to furrow her brown. ”Pff. I'm not even gonna think twice about any lame-looking Pokemon.” Crossing her arms beneath her chest, she continued her northward trek with a bored expression on her face. Perhaps better candidates could be found outside of town.
Preparations? A true master of war stacked the deck before the possibility of combat even clouded the horizon. Dozens of tiny preparations lay in patient, brooding wait all across the Margrave's body. His arsenal, invisible to metal detectors, unremarkable to enemies, and always growing as he discovered new ways to utilize his power, would continue to serve him well into the future. Intent on furthering his advantage, Elliot lent an ear to the Wards' young leader as he repeated what his ultrasensitive ears told him. He suspected that the enemies thought themselves beyond the reach of surveillance, and that in their false sense of security might be more inclined to let slip a few important details. In fact, whatever goon Collin zeroed in on dropped an embarrassing wealth of information, not only leaking the size of the marauding force but also those that composed it. Normies, Elliot condemned them disdainfully. How could a gang of ordinary people, unprofessional and unintelligent as this bunch appeared to be, possibly hold a candle to the best superhumans in the city? After all, even if the Wards were dealt with, the Protectorate's elite would swamp them easily. The deciding factory, Elliot concluded, was whether or not they had good guns. That detail would decide the entire battle.
When the door lurched open and Collin stepped out, the Margrave wasted no time. He shunned the people who surrounded the Wards, intent on snagging a good picture or a quote to feed into whatever news station, journal, or blog they represented. They served only as distractions, even if none, apparently, wanted anything from him specifically. His earpiece came to life, relaying the realizations of his commanding officer. Eyeblight, eh? First I've heard of him. No matter how eerie the name, we'll put this scum down before he gets the chance to make a name for himself. For him, we will mete out a grim fate. So focused was he on moving with the team that he didn't notice Epsilon falling back to let him take the point position. The inane small-talk of Messiah to Epsilon did not so much as reach him. How could the fools attempt bonding at a time like this? Evil was afoot, and wherever evil sprang up, there needed to be a prompt, ruthless heel to mash it back down. This was why the Wards needed him—someone who could do what no-one else could.
Together the Wards advanced, and only when the newcomer Tulpa mention that she could scout did the Margrave deign to give any of them his attention. He who had the information had the power, so with one of his fists slightly splayed against his lips in a gesture of absolute meditation did he listen. Satisfaction and assurance arose within him as he heard Tulpa's report concerning the foes' armament. Melee weapons, so long as not administered as a surprise, would do him no harm provided he could get sufficiently worked up. The hostages offered a new problem, but all the Margrave gave in reply was a hmph. The goody-goodies could deal with them. Once an avenue of attack was upon, the antihero would unleash a storm of steel the likes of which had never been seen before, mighty enough to devastate the entire enemy crew should they not flee in terror. "You may rely on me," he told his team through the communicator, "To ensnare their attention or to wipe them out. Whatever is required, a chosen one such as I shall not fail." His heart's beat began to quicken. To the Margrave it seemed like the notes of prelude to a thunderous song of victory.
I read your Character Sheet for Olivie. Everything looked wonderful until the absolute very end, specifically the gloves. The inventory section is reserved for official in game items that are for sale at Poke Marts. Obviously, she can still wear these gloves. You can mention in them in her appearance or in the extra info section. But you will want to save your inventory for items that actually have in-game value, items that you will purchase through the Poke Marts.
Pending this small correction, your character sheet will be approved!
Appearance: Standing at a 5'6”, Olivie is of slightly above average stature in most respects. Her waist-length, chestnut brown hair, held back except for two large bangs on either side of her head by a blue hairband, perfectly matches her brown eyes. With thin but dark eyesbrows, short eyelashes, and unassuming features, hers is a face that can easily be called 'pretty'. However, in one respect she's rather remarkable: Olivie is naturally uncommonly busty for a young woman her size, which serves as both a blessing and a curse. The black sports leggings she most commonly wears are made of a machine-woven breathable cloth that shines almost like rubber. A matching undershirt most often accompanies it, and Olivie favors wearing over it a sky-blue collared jacket buttoned on the right side. Since it restricts her arm movement somewhat, she keeps the sleeve of her dominant right arm rolled up. Of course, even this specially-tailored jacket does not completely fit her, and the upper buttons find themselves a little bit strained. On her right leg she wears a brace that holds her item pouches, and her exposed right forearm features both a black elbow brace and a black fingerless glove. She carries with her fighting gloves that she dons occasionally.
Biography: From an early age, the sun always seemed to shine for Olivie. Described by her parents as a 'joyous child', she made made friends through her early years, contributing a sort of boundless energy to whatever atmosphere she found herself in. In school she did well enough, never coming close to topping the class but still managing to stay one step ahead of the curve. Things began to change for her in high school, however. In a time when that dogged teenage pursuer Puberty was hitting her friends like so many trucks, a lucky shine shone on Olivie. Like the proverbial flower she bloomed into a natural beauty—though very quickly she found the supposed dream-come-true to be a nightmare.
One by one, Olivie's old friends turned away from her. Some were forced to leave her by circumstance, but many grew jealous of her looks and the attention lavished on her. Olivie, however, wanted none of it. Suddenly she found herself plagued by strangers all the time, the least problem of which was the staring. New 'friends' swarmed to her, pushing aside her old chums, but none of these newcomers truly valued the lighthearted, joyous young woman that nobody seemed to see any more. Olivie appeared in the school newspaper, acted in the school play, and so forth, but even awash in all that attention she never felt more alone. In fact, she felt truly miserable. Some called her 'fake', labeling her shallow or superficial, comparing her disdainfully to idealized dolls, and mocking the 'unrealistic standards' that she seemed to embody. Those who did think highly of her, Olivie knew, did not do it out of regard for who she really was. Yet throughout all this, Olivie did her best to earn the approval of everybody.
In her senior year, after a particularly confidence-shattering episode where three of her former friends ambushed her with pails of trash, knocked her down, and dumped the garbage over her, Olivie snapped. Knowing that she couldn't be a doormat any longer, she became angry. Suddenly, rather than smiling at the condescending remarks hurled at her, she spit fire back. No jeer went unpunished. Ardently she defended herself, becoming overemotional and impulsive as if to compensate for the hesitant, calm self from before. Were she not as pretty as ever, in fact, she would have seemed exactly like a punkish hoodlum. People began giving her a wide berth, calling her crazy under their breath but not wanting to mess with her any longer. Solitude suited Olivie just fine. To control her anger she joined up with Central City Gym's mixed martial arts center, where she doggedly worked to improve herself three times a week. By the time her nineteenth birthday rolled around, Olivie was a changed woman: done with school, employed as a waitress, and above all, confident in herself. Somehow she'd regained the vivaciousness of her childhood, and though at her core she remained the friendly and considerate person she'd always been, she now spoke and acted with unrestrained emotion. Along the way she even earned a few new friends, and won back a few old ones, but all the same waitressing never truly suited her. When her parents presented her with a Pokeball for her nineteenth birthday, Olivie realized that she'd been missing something all along.
Personality: There are two sides to Olivie. In her most natural state, she is outgoing, considerate, upbeat, and even enthusiastic. This is tempered, however, by near crippling self-consciousness. Prone to overthinking nearly everything and always inclined to think the worst of herself, she is especially concerned with what other people think of her. She wants to be valued, respected, and liked by everybody, but her natural good looks have created a quandary for her, as detailed in her backstory. All of this sparked a profound change in her late teens. Olivie decided to end her anxiety by burying it between a new attitude. Rather than bright but meek, she opted to be aggressive and assertive, even thuggish at times. Now, instead of allowing herself to be crushed by criticism, plagued by indecision, and mired in a lack of confidence, she overflows with confidence, makes choices boldly, and is quick to defend herself. This includes getting into fights, which Olivie is by no means loathe to do. Her heart is one restraining itself no longer.
Feel free to add extra info: Obviously, Olivie is fairly attractive, so it wouldn't make much sense if no characters addressed this realistically.
Pokemon Caught Ever: 3
Buck - a male Bidoof. The runt of his litter, he was a widely dislike member of a widely disliked, overpopulated Pokemon species, due mainly to his short temper. Driven by hunger, he abandoned the communal river home of his Bidoof community in order to prowl the meadows north of Central City for food. There, Olivie found him, beat him up, and made him her own. His attitude is much like hers: a hard, fierce exterior, but with a soft, gooey core. He loves to fight, though he's not very good at it, and he also loves cuddles and trying new foods. A furry, surly, walking stomach with legs--that's Buck. Now that he's seen Olivie as a kindred spirit, he wants to be a good partner for her
Gespenst - a male Cacnea. With the attitude of a stereotypical thug, Gespenst was the ringleader of a small group of bug-type Pokemon that terrorized a large field to the east of Central City. His no-nonsense, pitiless attitude makes him an effective, if unloved, leader. He treats those with considerable fighting ability with respect. If need be, he can act servile to individuals stronger than he. As a rule, he wishes to be the strongest of whatever group he's a part, but if not, he will happily serve the strongest side. Olivie, after fighting alongside his gang of bugs with Buck, earned his respect and service
Verrine - a female Karrablast. Formerly a denizen of an unnamed wood to the northeast of Central City, she migrated from her home into the vast fields to Central City's east side to find food. She did not expect to be found, intimidated, and co-opted into joining a small Pokemon gang known to be running rampant in one such field. Shy and reserved by nature, she hates making others upset or disappointed, and as such comes across as a doormat. In battle, however, she can display an unusual amount of bravery; it is the only place where she shines the most
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.<br><br>Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.</div>
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