Lugubrious

Jigokuraku Academy

Goro's family moved in after the reclamation.

Jigokuraku Academy

The Light-headed Lad

Character Quote: “I've got you. Don't hold back!”
Name: Dogorasu, Goro
Age: 15
Height: 5'10”
Weight: 150 lbs
Build: Decently toned, though not large
Quirk: Vitalight – a mutation-type quirk that's led Goro's tissues, primarily on his torso and head, to produce large amounts of light not unlike sunlight. This light, replete with energetic nutrients, continuously replenishes the stamina and -if applicable- the quirk of the target. This 'replenishment' delays or reduces the onset of quirks' negative effects while refilling whatever bodily resources they use

Description: Though he grew up in rather dark circumstances as the son of a poor and somewhat disreputable family in Rumoi, Hokkaido, Goro manages to be a ray of light to those around him—in more way than one. Of course, as a result of his Quirk his skin pretty much everywhere but his extremities glows a warm yellow, so much so that practically nobody has ever seen his face for the light given off by its surface. However, he's also empathetic, polite, considerate, and generous, believing that everyone deserves peace and happiness, and acting often to help them come about. This spirit of his developed, rather than dimming, during his bleak childhood, strengthened by his parents' determination to provide for him as best they could even though money was scarce and misfortune prodigious. However, during the period after the move, even that might have not been enough had Goro not had a chance encounter.

He knew about heroes, of course, but other than the single grizzled guardian of his hometown, Kingfisher, he had never really met one. For a time Goro thought, after reading about heroism in book and watching it in movies and TV shows, that the professionals were something of a sham. Thriving on publicity and gathering wealth in a made race for that number-one spot, they seemed more like celebrities that than heroes. Did they fight villains? Sure, but he never saw them volunteering among the poor or sick, trying to save not just lives, but people. A time after his family moved, however, he found someone on the roof of his apartment building. Sitting right next to Goro's usual spot was a dull-eyed man in a labcoat, tinkering with a golf cart-sized mech designed like a sumo wrestler. Goro remembered being struck by how tired and sad the man looked, and he asked if he could help.

The two ended up talking for a while, and though Goro wasn't much help mechanically, he learned quite a bit. The stranger, Honda, was one of the professional heroes he reviled, but he was also a man struggling both to feed his family and to shoulder the burden of being responsible for the lives of others and not always being able to save them. Through Honda, Goro learned that heroes weren't supermen whose whims decided the fate of lesser beings, but humans who suffered just as much as the rest. He learned that they, too, need help sometimes--and he learned that anyone could do good in the world, hero or not, no matter their power or the scope of their achievements, so long as they tried.

Goro carried those lessons with him into the future. The ideas of peace and happiness for all, mere ideals for all but himself and his family in his youth, drove him to act. When able, he worked odd jobs and volunteered to make money and help others, including using his Quirk to grow crops on his apartment's roof for food and sale. With his parents and the heroes like Honda as an example, who strove to remain strong and do good despite all that assailed him, he sought to make a difference in others' lives through compassion. Aside from those examples, however, he found he was spurred on by a strong inferiority complex. It drove him to seek approval and validation through service or kindness whenever possible in order to prove his worthiness of being liked and respected by others, and in order to try and prove himself a good person. Whatever good he did, he felt compelled to keep it up, lest others forget what he did for them and why they bothered having him around. This somewhat self-sacrificing behavior, moderated by conscientiousness, strong morality, and good judgment, remained with him. Eventually, he decided that he would try to become an official hero after all. To do so, he needed to find a school, and he soon found that -all things considered- there was only one option.

Miscellaneous: His hobbies include gardening and cooking, both of which he's pretty good at. While not a player of sports, he does like watching them, and he exercises daily.

✧ Adventure Must Continue ✧

Helena

@Ithradine

A quick peep over the ravine's edge confirmed that the priestess seemed to notice, as well. A mixture of curiosity and worry adorned the woman's face, and when her guardians moved to evacuate her, she did not resist. Curiously the humans appeared to be unaware, which baffled Helena given the noise, vibration, and ambient rise in temperature, but she soon reasoned that her senses must simply be more acute than theirs. Regardless, the holy company made haste to depart, with the carriage rolling out once again in a matter of moments. Ah, well, Helena thought. Can't be helped. At least there seemed to be no impulse to find out what the source of the disturbance was, which is prudent. Though no benefit to the Cathedral came to mind, the ghoul commander could not stop herself looking over the faces of the peasant crowd. Every one of the humans looked more full of life, able to stand a little taller with smiles of joy on their faces. That woman...even if here just for a moment, she changed these people's lives for the better. A hint of a wistful smile tugged at the corners of Helena's mouth. She would not at all have minded such looks of happiness and fulfillment directed at her.

“...Commander?”

With a slight start, Helena turned about at speed. Tungus, who spoke, instinctively recoiled, but the visage of annoyance on Helena's face was not meant for him. Her loathing fell upon herself for having let herself be distracted by something of no consequence to her guild. Composing herself in an instant, she clasped her hands behind her back and replied. “Yes?”

Tungus pointed a thumb in the direction of the southern road. “Spotted some'ne 'eaded this way, boss. A ways out and movin' slow, but take a look.”

After moving across the ravine toward where it sloped up and going prone, Helena did exactly that. Through the fronds of grass her sharp eyes could make out a solitary individual, also human, clothed in white. The cleanliness and the starkness of her garb contrasted the pastoral world around her utterly, but not so much as the weapon she possessed. Held in one hand as easily as Tatter might hold her Steward's Wand despite appearing heavy enough to tax any human, the scythe glimmered in the daylight menacingly. The lady in white walked as though in a trance, no emotion shown on her face nor awareness given to her surroundings, in the direction of the village. More than that, however, Helena got the feeling that this mysterious new arrival was headed toward her.

The notion intrigued her enough to give the situation some thought. Scythes, though ostensibly implements for farming and fittingly unwieldy, often appeared as the weapons of choice for reapers, liches, and devils, whose natural abilities made moot the tools' impracticality. More to the point, they carried with them the connotation of death, supposedly reaping lives as effortlessly as they reaped grain. Could it be that this stranger sensed death, or undeath? Not unreasonable to assume, though why then would she be targeting Helena? I'm no expert of monsters, but I'm sure that ghouls are not undead. I was returned from death, but using a flawed Revive spell rather than necromancy, which Tatter used Ghoul Vitae to complete. More plausibly, the stranger could sense monsters, or perhaps malefic auras. If so, that tidbit might just be the most poignant info Helena found so far, since it would mean that measures would have to be taken for aura or essence masking for future expeditions.

Helena backpedaled back down into the ravine until she could crouch while remaining out of sight. Urgency in her voice, she gave her orders. “Head deeper into the ravine so that you're out of sight and move into the forest with Wide Warp. Lieutenant Gretchen, Warp back here after you move the two of them. Our aim is to maintain stealth and disengage, of course, but if that woman can detect us through some extrasensory method, we must deal with her. Go.” The group, save Helena herself, began to move at once. They hurried into the lowest point of the ravine and a moment later vanished in a black cloud, leaving their commander alone to watch. This will tell us who she's after, if any of us. Could be that her target's the village itself, or perhaps the priestess and her crew, though this one's moving far too slowly to have been in pursuit of that carriage. If it turned out that the stranger could sense Helena despite the magical masking provided by the Skulker's Veil, things could get interesting.

Tatter

@FalloutJack@Ithradine

With a solemn, woeful air, Jack patted his oblivious Bruiserjack farewell and retreated to an optimal distance. After watching the corpulent plant monster looking around for a moment, the pumpkin dandy threw a beseeching glance Tatter's way. “Must I truly invite annihilation upon so innocent and innocuous a henchman? Barely has my piteous creation begun its ponderous existence, yet for the sake of your hideous experiments I am obliged to exterminate him.” Jack laid the back of one hand against his orange forehead to emphasize the tragedy of the situation.

Tatter's disregard, meanwhile, could not be more pointed. “You can just make more, pal. Besides, I'm doing this because Volaris asked me to. You're not going to go against the will of Supreme Lord, are you...?”

She knew that Jack never intended to, but rather was compelled to milk the situation for dramatic effect. As she expected, he shook his head in theatrical fashion and squared his stance. “Vine Scourge!” he cried, and one of his hands shot out to form a barbed tendril. He lashed it across the Bruiserjack, slicing into its rubbery flesh and sending a spray of greenish fluid into the air. The creature moaned, but Jack did not relent, whipping it again and again until it was covered in bleeding gashes. A moment later his vine arm retracted, and he called out, “Infect!” His arm twisted to form sickle-like protrusion replete with dripping spines, and with an expert step forward Jack smashed it into the Bruiserjack. A second later clouds of poisonous gas welled forth from its bleeding wounds, bringing the monster to its knees in a moment.

With a nod as his final farewell, Jack altered his arm one last time, making it into a thorn-covered scythe. “...Expunge!” At maximum force he ripped into his own minion with the weapon, and its afflictions exploded, a massive amount of fluid blasting from each wound. Gurgling its last, the Bruiserjack fell apart into drenched chunks.

Jack recoiled, rushing to brush the plant matter from his cloak. “Eugh! How repulsive! I don't remember those attacks being so...hideously visceral. I imagine I shall have nightmares for days.”

A giggle could be heard from Tatter. “Guess everything works then, maybe even better than it used to. Got all that, Es?”

The demon elf nodded, holding up her stack of papers. “Yes, Miss Tatter! All of Jack's spells and actions exceed expectations.” Her gazed hovered over the gigantic patches of corn seeded, grown, and engorged moments ago.

Tatter sighed, crossing her arms. “Kind of a shame neither Rule nor Lexicon showed up. Where is everyone?”

She looked at Jack expectantly, but he didn't seem to notice. Her woven brows narrowed at this. “Hey, you're not ignoring me, are ya pumpkin head?”

The gentleman held up a finger. In his empty eyes a subtle lime-green glow could just be made out. “My sentries! They behold the magnificence of Morningstar, poised to enter the Cathedral. She seems to have a captive. Her dulcet tones address Lord Volaris.” The glow faded, and a look of irritation came across his face. “It would be my joy to bid her welcome, yet here I am, sequestered on the fourth floor.”

Already Tatter was soaring away, making a beeline for one of the great banners hanging over the spectators' seats. “Don't worry your hollow orange noggin there, Jack. I'll zip on over and say hi. Make sure to clean up your mess!” A moment later her body hit the tapestry and went limp as her spirit transferred through the enchanted cloth.

-=-=-

Just after Morningstar made her way through the Cathedral's main entrance, watched at all times by Jack's pumpkin monster sentries, one of the nearby wall hangings began to unravel itself. The lengths of cloth danced through the air like a flock of flying snakes, and when they grew close enough they wove together into the shape of a young girl. Tatter did not bother forming her lower half, as usual, instead letting those strands drift about in a fittingly ghostlike manner. Her bright teal eyes fixated upon the new arrivals, and the sun from outside shown upon her mischievous smile.

“Hey Starry. How's it been? Volaris isn't here right now -or pretty much anyone else, for that matter- but if you'd like to leave a message...?” She snickered, floating closer so that she could get a good look at the old, battered man in Morningstar's clutches. “So who's this ancient mess? If you violated Volaris's orders to stay stealthy already, he must be pretty important...” The Ubergeist caught a glimpse of the bones poking through Lucius' wounded back and grimaced. “Ew! Honestly, he could go at any second in this state. Want me to fix him up? If you were planning an interview, it'd be better if he remained conscious.” She put her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer from the king's captor as though he weren't there.

Jigokuraku Academy Int Chek (Hero Academia AU)

The light-headed lad

Character Quote: “I've got you. Don't hold back!”
Name: Dogorasu, Goro
Age: 15
Height: 5'10”
Weight: 150 lbs
Build: Decently toned, though not large
Quirk: Vitalight – a mutation-type quirk that's led Goro's tissues, primarily on his torso and head, to produce large amounts of light not unlike sunlight. This light, replete with energetic nutrients, continuously replenishes the stamina and -if applicable- the quirk of the target. This 'replenishment' delays or reduces the onset of quirks' negative effects while refilling whatever bodily resources they use

Description: Though he grew up in rather dark circumstances as the son of a poor and somewhat disreputable family in Rumoi, Hokkaido, Goro manages to be a ray of light to those around him—in more way than one. Of course, as a result of his Quirk his skin pretty much everywhere but his extremities glows a warm yellow, so much so that practically nobody has ever seen his face for the light given off by its surface. However, he's also empathetic, polite, considerate, and generous, believing that everyone deserves peace and happiness, and acting often to help them come about. This spirit of his developed, rather than dimming, during his bleak childhood, strengthened by his parents' determination to provide for him as best they could even though money was scarce and misfortune prodigious. However, during the period after the move, even that might have not been enough had Goro not had a chance encounter.

He knew about heroes, of course, but other than the single grizzled guardian of his hometown, Kingfisher, he had never really met one. For a time Goro thought, after reading about heroism in book and watching it in movies and TV shows, that the professionals were something of a sham. Thriving on publicity and gathering wealth in a made race for that number-one spot, they seemed more like celebrities that than heroes. Did they fight villains? Sure, but he never saw them volunteering among the poor or sick, trying to save not just lives, but people. A time after his family moved, however, he found someone on the roof of his apartment building. Sitting right next to Goro's usual spot was a dull-eyed man in a labcoat, tinkering with a golf cart-sized mech designed like a sumo wrestler. Goro remembered being struck by how tired and sad the man looked, and he asked if he could help.

The two ended up talking for a while, and though Goro wasn't much help mechanically, he learned quite a bit. The stranger, Honda, was one of the professional heroes he reviled, but he was also a man struggling both to feed his family and to shoulder the burden of being responsible for the lives of others and not always being able to save them. Through Honda, Goro learned that heroes weren't supermen whose whims decided the fate of lesser beings, but humans who suffered just as much as the rest. He learned that they, too, need help sometimes--and he learned that anyone could do good in the world, hero or not, no matter their power or the scope of their achievements, so long as they tried.

Goro carried those lessons with him into the future. The ideas of peace and happiness for all, mere ideals for all but himself and his family in his youth, drove him to act. When able, he worked odd jobs and volunteered to make money and help others, including using his Quirk to grow crops on his apartment's roof for food and sale. With his parents and the heroes like Honda as an example, who strove to remain strong and do good despite all that assailed him, he sought to make a difference in others' lives through compassion. Aside from those examples, however, he found he was spurred on by a strong inferiority complex. It drove him to seek approval and validation through service or kindness whenever possible in order to prove his worthiness of being liked and respected by others, and in order to try and prove himself a good person. Whatever good he did, he felt compelled to keep it up, lest others forget what he did for them and why they bothered having him around. This somewhat self-sacrificing behavior, moderated by conscientiousness, strong morality, and good judgment, remained with him. Eventually, he decided that he would try to become an official hero after all. To do so, he needed to find a school, and he soon found that -all things considered- there was only one option.

Miscellaneous: His hobbies include gardening and cooking, both of which he's pretty good at. While not a player of sports, he does like watching them, and he exercises daily.

Another Epic Tale? Hopefully - An Isekai/Other World RP

So, we've got a pretty good cast in the works here, looks like. After seeing what the first few characters got I'm super interested to see everyone's Gifts.

Jigokuraku Academy Int Chek (Hero Academia AU)

Goro will be making a return once I remix his sheet.

Another Epic Tale? Hopefully - An Isekai/Other World RP

Yeah, it was probably an inch big on my screen. Its large now after the edit.

Ah yeah, that's a pass on the Genius Intellect thing.

Also, was that his real name? I mean, its cool if he wanted to change names, just mention what his previous name was.

@Protean Pair

In the background I mention in the first sentence his name was Evan Lobb, but I can put it in parenthesis in the Name section too if it helps.

Another Epic Tale? Hopefully - An Isekai/Other World RP

@Lugubrious I'll read up on the sheet, but by giving it a quick scan, here are my suggestions.

- A better and larger image.
- Younger, Charismatic (Authoritative), and Lucky are okay. Understanding probably just change it to Perception.

What do you mean by Genius Intellect? If its a Knowledge Perk, then its cool, but you have to pick a specific field of knowledge and should coincide with your background.

@Protean Pair

I'm not sure about how the image is displaying to you, but to me it's quite large. I'll screencap and then upload the screencap in place of what I have now.

As for Genius Intellect, I just mean he's very intelligent, not specifically knowledgeable in one area. That relates to his ability to take in, process, and act on information. If that's not good, I can replace it with something else.

Another Epic Tale? Hopefully - An Isekai/Other World RP

Alrighty, here you go. I'm very interested to get your feedback on him.

The once and future king

Xevna Drowl Proeth Aestram Obble

Xevna's starting clothes are lower-quality than those pictured, with no armor or ornamentation. In addition, his mustache is a bit thicker, and curls down toward the ends. He stands at 6'4", and weighs about 200 lbs

Name: Xevna Drowl Proeth Aestram Obble (formerly Evan Lobb)
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Personality: Xevna can be a difficult man to place. He is polite, modest, and cordial, but his degree of understanding can at times seem to go beyond empathy and appear uncannily like mind-reading. A firm believer in hard work and personal responsibility, he cannot abide by unfairness and injustice, though he is himself rather self-centered and bears a strain of elitism. Though dignified, he is not haughty or arrogant—outwardly, at least. He dislikes conflict and fighting, but in competition is more than happy to end things as conclusively as possible. With what appears to be boundless ambition and cunning, kept in check by a gentle and compassionate demeanor, he's the sort who possesses a kind of inherent authority. While he weighs all things by what benefit they bring him, he truly does value the lives of others so long as they don't impact him negatively.

Background: Though born into a fairly wealthy Nevadan family in 1944, Evan Lobb did not sit on his hands and wait for fame and fortune to come to him. He applied the same notions of hard work and personal responsibility that lifted his parents out of poverty in order to catapult himself ever farther. His ambition and intelligence drove him to take risks, and while many didn't pay off, he never ceased trying to make something more of himself. While this took the form of schoolwork and social involvement early in his life, by the time he reached his senior year in high school he was already working part-time at the local phone company and on set to graduate as a valedictorian.

University ensued soon after, and seldom did the young man find himself with free time. Nevertheless, he supplemented the beginnings of his career and the furthering of his education with as many connections as he could make; though some thought of him as less than genuine or even conniving, he proved to be a steadfast and charismatic friend. At all times he kept a close eye on developing technologies, his hand seemingly poised to grab on once something caught his eye. As such he made a number of notable investments both before and after graduating with a Master's in economics, but nothing that panned out in a major way. A month after graduation he married Maurine Brunner, a fellow economist with whom he'd fallen in love during his lengthy college stay, and the pair entered the workforce together.

Life went well from there, if somewhat unremarkably. In 1985, however, Lobb struck gold; with enough capital set aside for just the right opportunity, he seized the chance to start his own business fulfilling a perceived need. Taking a colossal gamble, he quit his job as a Wall Street consultant and founded Apex, a resale and shipping service that took advantage of the fledgling internet. His bet paid off; Apex expanded by leaps and bounds, becoming an international institution handling all manner of products and services in the space of 20 years. Apex grew into a modern-day trading empire, with Lobb buying into businesses with stunning frequency and pushing the company forward with calculated relentlessness. In addition to shipping and selling commodities of all types, Apex harbored its own public television channel, publication agency, commercial brands, philanthropy, and university of science. Evan himself owned vacation homes in a handful of countries, and supposedly his own small island in the Atlantic. Rivals he either bought up or shut down, with every risky ploy he made derided by the media as nigh-suicidal only to pay dividends in the end. He supported beneficial organizations through charity, though his high standards for such organizations and relatively low payout brought a great deal of negative attention upon him.

By the time he reached 65 years of age, even after handing off his mighty company to the oldest of his three daughters, Evan Lobb was the wealthiest man in the world, his name synonymous with capitalism itself. Of course, there were many who thought of him as the ultimate evil, the very incarnation of greed and the lust for power, who in full seriousness referred to himself behind closed doors as the World Master. Those claims aside, there could be little doubt of either his pragmatism or opportunism, nor of his brilliance.

Regardless of the contents of his story, it came to an end in 2018. While out of the house, visiting a local college as a guest speaker, he tripped over an uneven section of sidewalk and fell. Though rushed to a hospital, his age greatly exacerbated his injuries, and he died of complications within a day. Upon reincarnation, he chose for himself a new alias, scrambling together names and titles to arrive at a sobriquet that belies power with silliness.

Gift: Ability – Control theme

Quirks and Perks:
Younger (Reincarnated much younger than when he died)
Knowledge (Business)
Very Perceptive
Charismatic (Authoritative)
Lucky

Equipment: None

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

A few pats of a paper napkin around the lips and Elliot was good to go. “Delicious, delicious carbohydrates,” he declared under his breath as he pushed open the diner door and waltzed out into the city air. Where to now, he wondered? Without bothering to answer the self-administered question he started to walk. Half the fun of large cities, he felt, was wandering around until something caught his eye. After this morning's events he felt rather disinclined to encounter any trouble, so the less reputable parts of town wouldn't do, but anywhere else would be just fine. With an dispassionate look on his face and his hands in his pockets he meandered between the Denver streets, focused solely on putting one foot in front of the other, another faceless figment of the everyday crowd.

In the course of his aimless trek Elliot found himself sequestered in a corner of Quaestor's Emporium, a multi-level bookstore whose prodigious carpet, carved wood, and filigree marked its faithful appeal to an earlier era. Sitting in a comfortable albeit reduced-price armchair by a low screen displaying a fireplace, flipping through a book on advanced barbecue techniques that captured his attention, made Elliot feel somewhat like a refined gentleman enjoying some free time in his mansion's study. The idea that he might get his life in order to that degree amused him, but his concentration lay mostly upon the incredibly in-depth methods outlined in the book. From detailing beginners' mistakes and their remedies to explaining the vastly different meats that could result from subtle variations in seasoning and grill position, the author truly knew his stuff. The portly man's visage on the front, wearing a big smile and bearing a giant slab of roast on a skewer, belied the unfathomable complexity of his subject. 'Never judge a book by its cover' was the adage, and Elliot knew all too well both how widely that principle applied and how widely people ignored it.

Despite thinking about that for a moment, Elliot did not allow any piteous musings to ruin his time with the volume, and by the time he replaced it on its shelf his mind raced with possibilities. Assumedly the HQ had a kitchen of some sort, but would the staff let a Ward try out recipes of his own? To even reach that point, he would need to get enough money together to buy ingredients. One thing he knew for certain: were his indomitable mastery to apply itself to the realm of cuisine and result in some heavenly morsel, the fruit of his labors would be for him alone. Who, after all, would help him plant the wheat?

Back into the early afternoon sun. A haphazard series of twists and turns through the avenues came next, with Elliot eyeing a number of stores but not deigning to enter. Without much of anything burning a hole in his pocket, he felt better than usual about stone-facedly walking past the homeless, but even still the sight weighed on his conscience. Who really needed help? Who would try to hurt or steal from him? Who would squander charity on drugs or alcohol? Who would tell the truth? Who were there because of their own wrongdoing, because of honest mistakes, because of another's neglect or misdeed? What could he really do to help? Legitimate concerns, but regardless of legitimacy, Elliot did not want to see people so miserable.

So he tried to make sure he didn't see them.

That couldn't stop him thinking, of course. Once being a superhero fails, I really should find a soup kitchen or something that'll actually help people. Hopefully they'll let me sample my own wares—once I'm out of the Wards, I'm as out of a livelihood as any of their clients. Not a hero, not a villain. Just a nobody. All because the ignorant morons fail to recognize my genius. “Ugh.” He glanced from side to side. Don't you people think less of me. My life is suffering, too.

Another couple of hours passed before Elliot grew too thoroughly bored with the city. “Back to the gilded cage I fly,” he muttered as he oriented himself back toward HQ. Hopefully he would encounter nobody but security on his way to his room. Seeing one of the girls' faces scrunch up with disgust as he passed by, together with the smog inhaled during his wanderings, might make him puke.