Avatar of Maxx
  • Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
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    1. Maxx 12 yrs ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

5 yrs ago
Current I'm bringing Dragon Cave back and no one can stop me.
6 yrs ago
MEEP
1 like
9 yrs ago
I am back into this shit, I guess. Say hello if you'd like.
9 yrs ago
I am one with the force and the force is with me.
1 like
10 yrs ago
I have suddenly become deeply troubled.

Bio

"That's why we must eat the old people first. They can't have that kind of power."


I've been roleplaying for six years, and if I do say so myself I've gotten pretty good. I've been to many roleplay sites around the internet, and for right now I'm happy calling this one home. I write fantasy, high science fiction, and poetry. I'm involved in the Nerdfighteria community as well, making the world suck a little bit less one day at a time. Though sometimes it's rough and incredibly time-consuming, roleplaying has brought me some of my closest friends, some of the most genuinely awesome people I've ever met. This train is still going, and there's no stop in sight! DFTBA.

The Disappointment Club:


"What the fuck did I just read"


We're special-ed special forces, the most exclusive internet club that no one wants to join, and the most thoroughly disappointing group of individuals the world has ever seen (we even disappoint when it comes to disappointing). Together, we're quite possibly the best six friends the internet has know.

- @Junkmail : Living Proof That God is Dead.
- @He Who Walks Behind : I still won't forgive him for what he did to that starfish.
- @Dragonbud : Her Gregory Cosplay is fire.
- @Surtr : I think he's still trying to pimp me... Help.
- @Spoopy Scary : He's Greg.

List of Super-Power Pet Peeves:

-Shadow Powers
-Blood Powers
-Pain Powers
-"Dimensional Storage" Powers
-Spider Powers

Most Recent Posts

Alright, cool. I'll likely have the OP up sometime tomorrow or Monday.



Brady Cole awoke one morning to find the street out front of his house in Juvegol filled with the dead. They were not corpses, necessarily, nor zombies fresh from the grave, but skeletons, fully clothed in rags of clothes or tattered armor. Some held clubs made of broken branches. Some held swords limply in their bleach-white hands. Their eye sockets stared vaguely forward as they dragged themselves down the cobblestone street. There must've been about a thousand of them, moving as the most nonchalant mob ever seen. Occasionally, one would wander into a pole or crash into a carriage. It would hit the object, fall down into a pile of bones, roll its head away from the object, reform, and then would continue lurching along. A small crowd watched them from the alleyways. Children pointed and laughed. Mothers cowered in fear. Fathers stood with hatchets or butcher's knives should one of the mob decide to get hungry.

Perplexed, Brady pulled off his night gown. He pulled on trousers and a beige tunic. Then he fastened his sword belt and pulled on a pair of leather boots. A steel falchion hung from the left side of the belt. A short rondel was sheathed in the right. He walked down the stairs and out into the street. The skeletons still blithely lurched along in silence. They were no more than a meter away from him. Curious, he walked up to one and waved a hand in its face. The monster barely even flinched. He poked another in the ear hole. Its head bobbled a little. Then it continued walking along. Brady drew his sword and leveled it at one of the monsters.

"They're called wights," a high-pitched voice nearby said. Brady looked down and saw a very short, shriveled old man looking up at him. He was wrinkled and pale, with a hooked nose and pale blue eyes. A hooded cloak of what appeared to be raven feathers hung from his shoulders. He was bald. "They've been appearing all over the nation in hordes. They're not particularly dangerous at all. Mindless, docile, non-aggressive. They're the most nonchalant horde of monsters you've ever seen." He stuck his cane out and tripped one of the wights. It fell to its face, broke apart, and reformed. This it continued walking, completely unfazed.

"Why are they here?" Brady asked.

"No one knows," Ravencloak replied. Brady could tell he was frustrated.

"Where are they going?" Brady asked.

"Listen to them." Ravencloak pointed at the heads of the wights. Brady noticed that their mouths were moving in unison. They all were mouthing the same word over and over again. If Brady listened hard, he could hear just a faint whisper. Perhaps it was just the wind blowing through their hollow skulls.

"Maceron," they were all saying. "Go...to Maceron."

***


The continent of Tithe has been overrun by wights. Normally nonaggressive, solitary creatures, wights are very rarely seen on roads outside of battles, walking towards no destination in particular. Never before in the history of Tithe has such an influx of wights been seen, and never before have they congregated in such hordes. They have made it a point to travel through large cities, marching down crowded streets. They have congregated at Maceron, the capitol of the kingdom of Talbor. No one knows why they're going there, yet. Suspicions are that they're not there for a good reason.

Your character has also ended up in Maceron, whether be it that they're passing through on a trade route or sent on an assassination mission. They have congregated in Maceron one way or another. Though they do not know it yet, they will be heroes who will quite possibly save Tithe from the cold, rigid grasp of the dead. Play as one of nine different races in a world that had waaaaay too much development time. The rp will revolve around character interactions, combat, and quest series which will act as quazi-side-arcs.
Alright, Doctor Victor Calahan now exists in Baybridge! I realized that I neglected to post the NPC sheets for his lab assistants. I have them completed, though. I'll put them up in a bit.

Nonetheless, how do you want Victor to get involved in this shindig, Al? Got any ideas?

Doctor Victor Calahan



A cafe in Courtbridge, Prince Ed Field



It wasn't every day that a man made of fire sat down at the bar in a cafe. Victor had seen a lot of reactions to his presence in public places. Most of them involved lots of pointing and shouting. Occasionally, he would get a mouthful of sodium bicarbonate, fresh out of the fire extinguisher. One time, during a conference in Baltimore, he had been hit with a fire hose, much to his chagrin. Few people knew how to handle themselves around a metahuman, especially one who so obviously didn't belong.

The people here seemed to not take notice to the burning man sitting at a table outside of a cafe. It was just a little coffee shop, complete with the usual beige walls, tall windows, and the trendy brown-washed paintings on the walls. A Faded Paper Figures song played over the speakers. He sipped at a coffee (iced, to prevent himself from burning through the cup). His charcoal eyes drifted along the street, meeting the glimmer of headlights and then darting away as they passed. It was as if he were attempting to avoid their gaze.

Sarah sat down across from him, crossed her legs, and pulled out her phone. She was playing Candy Crush, but her fingers weren't touching the screen. Victor opened his mouth to speak, but knew better. Though she wasn't wearing earbuds, the gentle nodding of her head told him she was listening to music. He snapped his fingers. A spark ignited with a bright "snap!" Sarah rolled her eyes and looked up from her game.

"How nice of you to leave cyberspace for me," Victor said.

"Eh, these games get old quickly," Sarah replied. "I can't help but get into the code." She sat her phone down. It kept playing Candy Crush. A latte in a thin ceramic teacup sat in front of her on a matching saucer. The barista had drawn the foam on top into the shape of a heart.

"Tacky, but cute," Victor said. "You should get his number."

"I'm here to to research," Sarah said. "He can wait."

"Oh, you're so boring," Victor said. "It's not like we spend every waking moment of our lives with our noses stuck in petri dishes. We're people, not robots."

"Questionable," Sarah laughed. "I'm not sure if I could pass a Turing test somedays." They both laughed. Sarah bumped the table by mistake. The heart shuddered and became misshapen. Victor sipped again at his coffee. The coldest he could get his mouth was a little over boiling, so he had to half-pour the drink into his mouth lest he melt the plastic. He held it with a leather-colored heatproof glove. The two were silent for a minute or two. Candy Crush kept playing. The score had reached a number of digits that few people had ever seen in such a game.

"So any more news on Mendel?" Victor asked.

"Yeah, article in CNN earlier today. Another few people missing, another row house burned down eastside. The city's population is half of what it was ten years ago, before this whole war started."

"RAVEN just isn't as effective as NEST used to be," Victor replied. "They don't get the job done."

"NEST was in violation of a lot of laws," Sarah said. "KINGFISHER was brought up on war crimes. They may have been effective, but NEST did some awful things to people. At least RAVEN isn't as brutal."

"I wish KINGFISHER would've just listened to us," Victor said. "Back then, the doctor made all kinds of discoveries to take metas down non-fatally. Some were more effective than bullets and tear gas. They just wouldn't listen, and now look what's happened. ALBATROSS is in prison, so is CONDOR, Sam died back in Verthaven."

"His daughter sent you an email yesterday," Sarah said. She took an iPad out of her leather satchel and pulled Victor's email up. She opened her eyes wide and the message was projected, upside-down, onto the table. Victor read it quickly.

"Hm. Well, I'm glad she's doing alright," Victor said. "Sometimes I feel like it's a blessing that she never developed powers. Hopefully she'll get into a good school without the whole 'I'm a minority metahuman' business."

"Yeah, hopefully," Sarah took another sip of her coffee. Her Candy Crush score was now a number unreachable by conventional science. The heart swirled into her latte was now a rorschach blot. She couldn't quite tell what shape it was in. She felt the baristo watching her from behind the bar. Victor snickered. He took a last drink and then transferred the cup to his right hand. A small ball of fire materialized in the palm of his hand. The cup shuddered, blackened at the bottom, and then crumpled. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I'm not drying you out when you set the fire alarm off," Sarah said. The smell of burning plastic filled the air.

"I didn't ask you to," Victor said. He threw the melted ball of plastic over his shoulder at a trash can. It bounced off of the edge and onto the ground. Victor's shoulders dropped. Sarah laughed. He walked over, picked up the melted sludge, and scooped it into the trash bag. "A baller I am not," he said.
Hello chocolate-coated scrubs. I'm here and ready to start working on this rp. It's gonna take me a bit to read the last page or so (for brevity's sake I'll read the last page and a half so I know what's going on and then I'll start contributing. I'll hit the first few pages later).


Victor will be involved in Overload. He's going to put his shapeshifting project on the side to help try and cure the overloads.
<Snipped quote by Maxx>

this officially made me lose my will to live

thank you Maxx


Then I have done the world a great favor.

EDIT: Expect a post out of me like Thursday. Between now and then I have to study for two exams, write a ten page essay on why we should deport white people from the US, pack up to go home from college, and read the IC.
<Snipped quote by Spoopy Scary>

No, only a kickstarter can blow up this bitch ass sun.


http://phsycoward.tripod.com/
IT'S HERE, BITCHAZZ



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