Sister, the voice called out. Ah. That's right. Six wasn't alone. There were more like her. The voice of a boy so familiar... She almost looked out the window to reveal herself. She didn't, though. This wasn't an act of intelligence, strategy, or anything inbetween, however. No. She carried out some of the water held within the riptide in her clothes. The heat that once had been kept in that car had since poured out. Replacing it was the biting chill of snow. Frost had already began to form on her clothes. Fuck, it was cold. Six didn't look out the window simply because she was huddled onto herself trying to keep whatever body heat she could.
In fact, when the fat bastard ran his fingers through her wet hair, she didn't even react. That's how cold it was. Too cold to think about spewing the blood she had lapped up earlier. Then her handler called out again. Inside the train, he said. Was that her target? Well, she would make it fast. She didn't want to make it this far then die from the cold.
She began to take deep breaths. It wasn't a long distance, but it wasn't short, either. She placed the gun in her waistband after flicking the safety on. Didn't want to shoot herself in the hip, after all. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Deep breath in. Then she kicked off, her body vanishing as it clipped through the seat of the car.
As fast as she could without drowning herself, she swam to the snow train. She barely had enough breath left in her. This was what her handler meant, didn't it? She entered the cab, the entirety of her body remaining in the riptide. Quickly, she pulled a knife out of her bag, placing it into her mouth. If the boy used his vision to kill, she would simply need to take away his vision. Quickly, she thrust her arms through where the boy's head would be. Where the boy's eyes met air, her arms erupted out. The boy would be unable to see, as no light was able to pass through skin, flesh, and bone. Then, her head erupted from his back. Swiftly, she moved the knife towards the boy's neck. She stopped suddenly before she could pierce.
His voice rang out in her head. Sister.
Her jaw became slack, knife falling onto the floor of the cab. She panted heavily, barely catching her breath.
"Open the door! He's blind now!" She yelled. It was a gamble. She didn't know what the boy was capable of. If she was wrong and the boy could kill merely by sensing that one was there then...
Man, Romania really sucked. She'd keep her fingers crossed that she'd go to somewhere nice next time. Bulgaria, for instance.
With a flash and a tingle, Dahlia didn't really feel much change. That was it? Well, no wonder nobody wrote elaborate records on it. The process was really just a formality. She reclasped the linen wrap and put on her first shirt in an attempt at modesty. She took the paper from Athena, eyeing her stats and stuff. Dahlia had read about this. Adventurers saw a letter grade for each of their stats, alongside any skill they may of had. Dahlia's stats were close to the lowest. Considering how most adventurers started at an I with only a few Hs. Considering how Level 1's I was considered to be "the ability of an average person", reading H three times made her pretty happy. Alongside that, she had a skill. Expanded Mind, it read, increases the person's total amount of magic... Well, it made sense. Her brain was pretty expanded.
Athena gave a little explanation on what was next. Despite Dahlia putting on layer after layer of her cloth protections, she listened very intently. At the end of the explanation, she asked if the now-fully-dressed Dahlia had any questions. Dahlia's mouth opened.
Do gods poo? She didn't say.
She had caught herself before she asked. Now wasn't the time. Her relationship with Athena didn't reach that point yet. Maybe later. The question was thrown to the back of her mind. She instantly shoved her fist over her mouth and eyed the door.
"NoquestionsthankyouI'mgoingtopreparebyeitwasniceseeingyou!" She frantically spilled out as though it was spaghetti coming out of her pockets. Quickly reaching into her jacket's pockets, she pulled out a book and a grey hunk of rock wrapped in bandages. She began to write in the book, hustling her way out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the building.
Next stop: the market for last minute supply gittin'.
Imagine not DMing me the thread immediately after you post it. Do you fear Albrecht's big dick energy that much?
yes
Coolio, we got people. If you want to work on a character while I finish up all of the work and junk, here's an info dump and a basic CS.
Please note that this won't be first come first serve, just in case more people get interested in it. I can answer any questions one might have about character creation or the world, so just ask me in a PM, on the thread, carrier pigeon, or any other channel you might have with me. In the mean time, here's a character sheet and some info about what's what.
The abilities and items of those blessed by the gods do not follow any rules. One could simply gain an inordinate amount of strength, or they could gain the abilities of anything they eat. Most people only have one or two blessings from a god, if they have any. Those blessed by the gods usually become polarizing figures who have pages dedicated to them in history books.
Know that these are only the basics on the common forms of magic. You can go outside of it if you want.
Magic refers to the ways that humanity are able to defy the laws of nature. Various means exist to alter the world. The basis of most magic takes the form of mana; an invisible force that binds everything together. For those with great internal mana, they are booned with the ability to create. The many schools of mages create their magic using complex symbols and formulas that they have associated with chants. For mages, study is the way of acquiring power. Their magic is rigid, yet both the amount of spells they possess and inventive uses of magic allows them to become versatile scholars.
Alternatively, sorcery is the path of emotion for those with internal mana. Rather than rely on rigid spells, sorcerers understand and alter mana with little more than their passion and vitality. Sorcerers embrace magical domains rather than rigid schools. Their magic is highly versatile due to their formless spells that can be changed at one's whim, but they are limited in which domains they may exist in. A sorcerer, unless highly gifted and favoured by the gods, are unable to exist between opposing domains. A pyromancer is almost never able to enter the domain of hydromancy.
For those who are favoured by the gods, they may instead pray to a higher power to alter the world for them. The gods of the world are numerous, each with their own domain of faith. By becoming a cleric or priest of one, one may live in service to their deity. The rituals and prayers required by a god vary, as do their powers. Their methods in which they cast, could be considered as an intermediary between sorcery and magecraft. The rigidity of prayer, but the flexibility of outcome.
Some are neither blessed by the gods in their capability or favour. These people often turn to darker, more nefarious means of magic. For some, they tap deep into the power of ancient creatures that once opposed the gods: demons. Warlocks, as they came to be known, harness the power of these ancients in order to cast devastating spells. Though, it is all borrowed power. Everything has a price. Dark Arts, as they came to be known, are similar to warlocks. The primary difference between the two being that rather than make a deal, the user simply subjugates the demon and takes the power for their own.
Everything, of course, has mana weaved delicately into it. As a result, some magic remains nigh impossible. One can not crush the organs of another directly, nor can they alter another's mind unless the disparity in mana is enough to shatter the weave. Out of this, some methodologies have been born. Witchcraft, also known as black magic, is the means in which one can alter the weave held within one's body. Curses, possessions, crushing the organs of one's foe are merely a handful of possibilities for witches. The weave is ephemeral, however. To alter the weave requires great rituals.
Druids, on the other hand, employ the same concept of altering the weave that witches do. Rather than forcibly change them with rituals, however, druids live harmoniously with the weave. Because of this, they may influence anything the weave touches. While their influence is only temporary, they can cause grass to turn into vine, transform into beast, or even polymorph others with enough power.
Some magic, of course, defies all logic. Dragoncraft, the innate magic of dragons, has no rules to it. Dragons merely understand the weave and create, destroy, or alter as they please.
Cliff-notes: Mages are the typical scholarly types. They have big lists of rigid spells and are nerds. Sorcerers are chad mages. Instead of needing to study, they just pick a domain and do things. Pyromancy? You can now do anything with fire, limited by your mana. Clerics pray to a god to get their power. They have to do rituals and prayer to keep their power and can't do anything their gods hate. Warlocks make a deal with a demon/devil/fiend/ancient to get them to cast the spells for them. Witches do highly complex rituals to make curses and do other things no other method (save for maybe warlocks) can do. Druids are very nice and use nature. Dragons are thads that literally do not give a shit about your rules of magic and will actively doodoo on any notions of what they can and can't do.
Humans are the bog standard human type fantasy race. Many different settlements and cultures, each based on the location of which they are. Humans are the most plentiful race on the main continent.
Elves are the stereotypical anime elves. They're tall people with pointy ears. Many different variants of elves exist. Traditional elves live in forests and worship nature deities, while Dark elves worship the moon and the gods of magic. While elves often intermingle with humans, the difference between a traditional elf and a half-elf is no longer based on one's parents. Instead, it refers to one's culture. Elves pursue the naturalistic lifestyle of their ancestors while half-elves live in settlements and participate in cultures formed by other races. There are often rifts caused between elves and half-elves as a result of elitism.
Dwarves are the descendants of giants, an ancient race that had gone extinct thousands of years before the current time. With short, lanky bodies full of muscle, they promote a culture of honest work and craftsmanship. Dwarven cities are among the most architecturally beautiful. Dwarven royalty is a strange exception to their traditional appearances. Holding more giant's blood than the commonfolk, they reach massive heights and power. Culturally, dwarves are insular and have a disdain for others. This stems from the fact that dwarves were treated as nothing more than a strategic resource to other nations.
Oni are a tribal people descended from demons and man. Their culture promotes a great sense of freedom and worship of their deities. Their appearance has great variance within its own race. An oni's skin and eyes can be a range of colors. The easiest way to tell that one is an oni are the horns on their head. Because of their highly territorial culture and traditional way of life, oni are considered to be savages and brutes by most other races. The dwarves, however, are most friendly with the oni. While they don't maintain a serious diplomatic relationship, the traditional art and craftsmanship of the oni are greatly appreciated by the dwarves.
Beastial Races come from an adjacent continent. Similar to Oni, they face discrimination from most of the other races because their nature as outsiders. There are many different beast races, each with their own culture and philosophies. Their appearances range from almost human with the exception of a few traits such as ears, horns, and eye-shape to bipedal animals.
No dragons or deity-like races will be playable, so don't worry about them. Feel free to fancify it how you like.
Know that I will be PMing ya with a bunch of random memories that your character would have gained to acclimate to the new world.
[center][img]APPEARANCE IMAGE YO[/img][/center] [b]Name:[/b] (Previous name, new name, whatever you want your character to be called) [b]Race:[/b] (You can be what you want. I might have to apply some big lore to it to make it fit in with the world) [b]Personality:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] (Even if you have an image, getting some ephemeral things like height, build, and how one is percepted by others makes for good interaction) [b]Blessings:[/b] (What you could have gained. Equipment, abilities, magic, any cheat-like abilitiy) [b]Abilities:[/b] (The physical side of one's capabilities) [b]Magic:[/b] (The magical side of one's capabilities [b]Equipment:[/b] (Everyone will spawn with appropriate gear)
Unfortunate as your passing may have been, it was not the end of your tale. No, your soul had been taken from its natural cycle. Rather than expire, reincarnate, or find peace in the afterlife, your consciousness returned in that abyss. Nothingness. At first, it was frightening. You were unable to find footing within that darkness. Not that you had feet, anyways. You could at least understand that you no longer had a body. Panic turned to contemplation as you slowly accepted your current state. Soon, the deprivation of everything but your thoughts left you numb, unable to think.
Just as slowly as you accepted your new fate, it appeared. Even though you could see it, it took a considerable amount of time to even perceive what it was. Atop its indiscernible head was the skull of a deer. Its form was neither fully male nor female. Split down the middle, it remained betwixt. Numerous arms extended from its shoulders, each appearing and vanishing as needed. One arm reached across its torso, covering its sole breast. Another held the shaft of a spear against its neck, the tip already pierced through. Another held a stone lantern, illuminating it in a bath of crimson light. Another set of arms held the skull atop its head still. It sat across from you, still in the abyss.
Then it spoke to you in tongues. This was not a language you had ever heard, yet you could still understand it.
"The fracturing has begun," it stated, "become reborn and fix this cycle." Abruptly, it reached forwards and enveloped you inside a hand. Just as quickly as you were crushed, the hand opened. Bright blues and white hues had appeared. A sky?
Your new body began to plummet towards a blooming meadow.
So this is a pretty standard isekai RP about protecting a world that isn't yours from collapsing. So before, I'd like to start by saying THIS WON'T BE YOUR MOMMA'S ISEKAI. The world is harsh and even though you were given cheat-like abilities, the natural denizens of this world are brutal, cunning, and not as friendly as creatures on earth. This won't be a roleplay that's a power fantasy. As strong as your characters may be, there's always a bigger fish in the sea. Death is a constant threat to your characters, but smart thinking would be able to stave off death.
For inspirations, think of series like Tensei Shitara Suraimu Datta Ken, Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash, and pretty much any isekai story that you could think of. Bits and pieces are taken from many different sources.
As for character design, I would say to go nuts. There's no specifics I have in mind for what your character could be. I'd just say to stay away from world-busting stuff. I don't want to have to throw extinction level threats at your characters that quickly, after all. Your characters would have gotten new bodies in order to fit in with the world, allowing you to be any race of sentient anime fantasy race your heart desires. In order to fit in with the world, your character would have some intrinsic knowledge of what their new form is supposed to be.
I'd be looking for a small group of roleplayers, no more than 5 people for this. Probably a loose weekly post schedule, because that's more or less healthy.
Each of the pillars had their own philosophy. The general consensus was that the River Pillar needed to answer for his crimes. Out of all of them, Saburou's own answer was the softest. Still, he was outnumbered by the rest of them. They weren't wrong; swiftly dealing with traitors had a chilling effect on betrayal. Even if he had good reason to, the River Pillar still took action against the Demon Slayer Corps. He would need to face retribution for what he had done. What worried Saburou was why. People weren't stupid. For a pillar to defect, they would need an extremely strong reason. Historically, a handful of demon slayers became demons in order to gain more power. Was that really it? It couldn't be... Muzan was dead. Demons were in their last throes. The prospect of this being larger than a simple traitor scared him.
They had all been delegated to their duties by the Storm Pillar. They really didn't have any say in it, really? Saburou was to ensure the supplies were safe. Well, he wouldn't disagree to such a duty.
"Sir." His simple response came with a nod of affirmation. He wanted to make it quick. The Storm Estate was a disheartening place to be. "Well, it was nice seeing you all again. It is unfortunate that we are unable to meet under better circumstances." After that, the Love Pillar and Sea Pillar left. Saburou was the third out, taking a breath of fresh air once he left that tense building.
"We shall depart," he told Sayuri. He grabbed his umbrella and opened it underneath the canopy. He had a bit of a foul look on his face. He didn't even ask for his haori back. He just began the trip to his estate, his mind trying to unravel what was going on.
The train back was on time. Thankfully, the two of them made it back home before the last train. Upon reaching his Estate, he called for handful of remaining workers. He asked them to, before they left, gather the financial reports under the River Estate. Every single copy that was made. The master supply routes were kept safely in his office, away from the eyes of anyone who could leak them. Still, the other pillars each knew a few that pertained to them. It was pertinent that none of them were to be halted. He turned back to Sayuri.
"A pillar had betrayed the organization. The details of why are still unbeknownst to us, but it is a very serious event. Most likely, you will be audited by the Storm Pillar at some point." The look on his face was more sad than usual. "For now, get some rest. Training will continue tomorrow."
The act of cleaning prey was always messy. Still, eating something so... human like made him feel a bit gross. Monkeys and humans were pretty close, weren't they? Still, this was for survival. Survival survival survival. Fighting an ape was one thing, but cutting one up and dismantling it? Eurgh.
Oscar briefly spoke to Ettamri and then began his work on cutting up the ape. Guh. It wasn't very pretty. Splatters of blood covered Oscar. Thankfully, they missed Renauld, who had been standing a further away. As the beast's torso was torn into, Renauld was afflicted with a sudden case of the gags. He wasn't a very squeamish person, but he wasn't the type to look into the guts of a man-ape and be unaffected. He tilted his head down, closing off his throat in efforts of not gagging. It was a good thing his stomach was on a constant state of empty.
He helped Oscar where he could, lifting up meat, splaying bone, and washing out the blood with snow. It was definitely an experience. One that Renauld would never want to do ever again.
With the brief recap for the new arrivals, the goddess firmly grasped Dahlia's hand and hurried her up the stairs. There really wasn't much that Dahlia could think of. Architecture wasn't her primarily field of study. But librarians were researchers! If she had the vast wealth of knowledge held within the pages of the library, she could surely make small talk about the architecture of the building. Wait, she was in someone else's home. She couldn't quickly run off into a dark hovel to study up on a conversation topic. Not now, at least. Up the next flight of stairs they went, arriving at a more open area. Three doors, one with a big A. No doubt standing for "Athena". Though, there was always a chance that it stood for something more cryptic like Aesop or Ass-kicking room.
Nonetheless, they entered the Ass-kicking room. It was a lot more empty than Dahlia expected. The rooms of the librarians (especially her own!) were always extreme messes of books stacked to the roof, loose papers everywhere, and the occasional librarian who mixed up rooms. Athena then announced that it was her room. Made a lot more sense than Ass-kicking, Dahlia honestly thought. With the announcement of getting right into it (of course, it was probably good to do this quickly as there were so many people waiting behind her), Dahlia complied. The room was looked clean enough. Gods and goddesses weren't allowed to do most of the icky things that made the bedrooms of mortal folk so disgusting.
"Well alrighty," Dahlia said as she began to take off her layers. First was the large overcoat, which she neatly folded up and placed on the ground. She then removed the hooded jacket, placing it on top of the overcoat. Next, she pulled off the thick wool turtleneck sweater, revealing a thin undershirt. Taking that off revealed yet another layer: a thin under-undershirt that barely covered her torso. Finally taking that layer off, a tight linen wrap that supported her chest had the metal hooks keeping it in place taken out and her back was finally free to experience open air. She carefully placed all of the clothes on top of each other, save for the wraps which she held to her chest for modesty. It was actually surprising that, even in the day's heat, Dahlia had the fortitude to endure it. Avoiding the filth of the outside was something worth fighting for.
Finally, she took a seat next to the goddess. She didn't speak much during this. After all, she wanted to sear every bit of the process into her retinas. She just looked to the goddess with a great expression of excitement.
From the safety of her riptide, Six watched as the boy noticed her. Well, her presence, to be exact. The same way that she could ascertain the boy a threat, he could understand that whatever was under the ground was just as dangerous. She watched as he ran and left no respite for Six. Had he stopped to sate his curious desire, he could have faced the barrel of a pistol. It wasn't a good thing for Six that he listened to the danger.
But being in the riptide was like cheating. It was hard to see, but one could see until the complexity took over. In such a simple landscape—snow, open air, and trees—one could easily see the dangerous boy running back to the big snow vehicle. If the boy could sense danger like that, then she would need an actual distraction. Either someone who could avoid that ability of his or enough cannon fodder to preoccupy him. At least, she hoped. If his ability let him crush multiple heads at once, then she'd probably need to rethink her game plan.
By blessing, a new ally (or so she prayed) flew onto the scene in a car. The occupants were too difficult to discern. Someone moving at that speed in a vehicle was practically invisible. The car slammed on the breaks and the driver got out. They shot at her enemy, luckily. Then a familiar figure hopped out the back. A terrifying man as always; fat, horrible, but he moved like an angel of death. But the question was, did she ask for help? Could she handle it on her own?
Fat bastard or crushed skull?
...
...
Fat bastard it was.
Quickly swimming to the car, she swam into the back seat and hopped back into the real world. Soaked in water, she emerged to the frost instantly collecting on her clothes, shivering as she rolled onto the hidden safety of the back seat's floor. The wetsuit she always wore wouldn't be able to keep her warm forever. She was used to cold, though. As long as this wrapped up quickly, she could warm up later. Frostbite was a bitch, but so was headcrush. Out of the two of them, you were considerably more likely to survive the former.
"Fucking kid crushes heads!" She choked out at the fat bastard. These were practically her first words she spoke to him by her own volition. "He's hiding behind the big vehicle thing!" She vaguely pointed to its direction from inside the car. Would the handler able to deal with it on his own? Honestly, maybe. Anything to increase her chance of living through the sudden firefight.
Member
Izurich
Scrub Mage
Phase
ERode
vietmyke
Elite Minor
Bartimaeus
Stern Algorithm
Creative Chaos
Estylwen
