potatochipgolem

How does Arena Roleplay work?

I am the Heretic!

Let me tell you the truth on how it works:

Step 1: Learn to hide crap under the radar.

This means making your arena character as mary sue as possible without anyone finding out. Give a extremely detailed backstory where you can find loopholes to pull abilities or knowledge your character was not explicitly stated to have, out of. Things like that.

Step 2: Make all that crap look original.

Want a BFG without someone calling you out as unoriginal? Make that BFG shoot from something that isn't on your character! Want that Harpoon that poseidon has? Make it do all the same things but electronically! People are gullible enough to think something is original just because some fluff is changed, look at all the arena characters out there - the most genuinely original characters don't have a stellar record.

Step 3: Type alot.

No one wants to read walls of text, not 3 paragraphs describing how a single limb moved. But you see it anyway. Why? Because in those 3 paragraphs your opponent hides phrases that can be used against you if you did not read them. Block that kick with your sword? But that leg is ethereal and can't be blocked by weaponary! Didn't you read that one word in line 52 of the 8 paragraphs when I was so detailedly describing that leg? You didn't read and remember all of that? Shame on you!

Missing one word can be your downfall, that's why people post like that. To make you miss as many words as you can.

Step 4: Create multiple accounts to vote on your own posts.

Do it, do it now! It's against the site's rules but majority of them do it anyway. Because it is forum steroids STEROIDS, if you aren't in - you're out! How else do you explain those random compliments from out of literally nowhere on those really, really bad posts? Hey, it is not a coincidence. There are no coincidences in the arena!

Step 5: profit.

In the end, the very existence of arena is based upon a concept which all that Roleplaying well goes against: win.

As I said, I AM THE HERETIC. Thine rotten tomatoes cometh forth mine way!

(This is by no means how arena should be, but I'm just being crazy, never aspire to do the things I said! Seriously.)

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

I was interested at first and have been reading the IC for a few days, but after reading through everything I feel like the npc(?) reverin was written rather mary suish and in a very masturbatory manner, I've got a bad vibe from these kind of things so I think I'll pass.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

@Kingfisher That is very kind of you to say! My posts are too crude for such kind words. I was worried that it would not be up to standard as I was in a rush but you've set my mind at ease. :>.

@Ink Blood Hi and welcome. Don't be hesitant to ask any of us to give you a summary of what's happened so far.

Likewise, I'm really liking how everyone's posts are playing things out. It's been awhile since I saw any large scale story get to this level. The city is coming more to life the more I read it, with each interaction made.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

o_O! Wait a minute, I remember that line from a song somewhere.

My Hider

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5x29ug8gV5M

Post is up, it's just a short excerpt about my character reacting to the full moon. It's not too important to many other characters, just another howl from another monster. :>.

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Looking at faeries will never be the same again.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

Prologue

A cold wind blew through the cemetery that day. Quickly drying up any sorrow it met and drowning them in the rustling of leaves as it passed uncaringly.

A lone soul stood on a small green hill just outside Santa Somabra and before him, beneath a great autumn tree. He closed his eyes and mouthed something - out of hope and in long overdue, regret. From the depths of his trenchcoat came a single white lily which gently floated down onto the stone. Silently, he walked away.

Where the flower fell, words were etched into the slate.

"In memory of Julian and Amelia Vigil."
1967-2015

Trembling hands wound tightly around wires in the darkness.

The moon passed overhead, it's frosted light seeped through and caressed a pale ghasted face. It caught his attention and the man warily looked up at the night sky, shirking from the glow which poured through a hole in the ceiling - he knew he did not have much time left.

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Vigil had spent the last few hours in a tunnel leading out to the canyons, an abandoned route that now only remained in the shadow of a brand new highway. With only his elixir to keep him sane, he worked through the nooks and crannys of the place. Stringing metal wires to the pipes along the walls and pulling them taut across the road. When a blood curdling howl pierced the night air, it elicited a reaction from him as he fought himself not to reply. Not yet.

When the last knot was tied, his hand grabbed hold of a bloody stump, part of a carcass - of something he knew not what and he dragged it along the path. But it smelled fresh, he could still sniff out in it's blood, the struggle it put up when it was still alive. He hated to admit it but there was something alluring about that scent. Something about it that satisfied a primal curiousity. Perhaps, even a lust. He grimaced. It would soon be over...

Vigil let go and looked back over his hunching shoulder. In the utter darkness, he could hear the faint chime of glass, where shattered remnants of mirrors strung to the wires danced unseen with every gust that came through. Like the wind, he knew the beasts would come running through as well and while his clothes had protected him from the deadly shards, their fur would not - for something as tainted as that would only burn from the virtuos metal. Something he knew all too well.

All Vigil needed now was to let them know to come...

The Change

Suddenly. He lurched forward, wrapping his right hand around his ribs as his body shook violently. Vigil dropped to his knees and started coughing, spattering blood on the wall as his voice box mangled itself and sharp teeth pushed through his gums. Agony washed over him as he felt his bones grow too large for his frame, piercing through the skin and veins of his hands and toes in gory symphony. He tried to hold back from screaming but when his face started to painfully stretch forward, tearing at every single nerve he knew, he couldn't help but let out a tortured groan.

The last human sound he would make that night.


Then as he fell, already heavily muscled limbs stretched and twitched into bigger, more gnarled forms, over the white of his bones. Covering them in fresh sinew, skin and finally - fur. But his innards were still not done shifting and growing, squirming visibly like snakes underneathe his thick hardened torso, forcing rivulets of drool from his throat and out his bloodied, snarling mouth.

In the long moments of the curse taking place, where the pain had overwhelmed his senses and the world started to loose colour, it also took over his mind and his memories along with it. Only his last thoughts which he so desperately clung on to had remained, Vaguely, but They were all that would keep him alive tonight.

The transformation took a long time to complete for him, when it was done - all that remained of his clothing were mere ribbons on hulking shoulders, and the only semblance of his former self were his dark, still scowling, eyes ...and a small red patch at the back of his neck where his scalp used to be.

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A second howl bellowed from the depths of the city, ringing the ears of all who heard this one deeper and louder than any other. It called out to those who understood it, telling them ...no, taunting them, to come find it's owner.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

This town is really, REALLY going straight to heck.

Riots, anarchy, townswide electrical shortage and now an impending werewolf attack (When is the full moon by the way?).

It's probably listed in forbe's 10 top cities with the shortest life expectancies. :>.

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Let me change the image, without electricity there should be no Television! I thought it was a whiteboard...

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

THE AFTERMATH

The salon doors swung outwards and the bitter scent of kerosene stained every breath of air.

Opening to a cringe-worthy scene, it was softened only by the warm glow of lamps lit on every still standing table in the aftermath of the power outage. Broken glass and shattered sills were strewn as far as the eye could see, but the hustle and bustle of the city yet still managed to creep into such a place and it’s patrons, though few, had perhaps sought safety from the outage-induced chaos within the shambles of such a place.

There were worst things out there right now, after all ...



Ricardo Vigil pushed through the doors, slapdashedly stepping over a fallen board that had come crashing down from the ceiling earlier. The man bore a series of bandages that ran from his neck down his left shoulder and through to his arm where dark spots behind his short sleeved shirt hint at recent wounds, dried blood caking underneath it all. As he made his way to the bar, he soon came to meet every alcohol addled look at him with a grimaced scowl and clenched his knuckles so tight that they turned white, quickly sending stares the other way. Only when he found a familiar face did his expression relent into something friendlier.

"The usual," The man groused as he tucked into a seat wincing, the owner of the bar looked like she could use the business.

"Thought you might want these back," He slid a few trinkets out from his pocket and into the ashtray before him, not coins, but bullets. Bloodstained bullets. "...didn't think you needed the police questioning you and making things..." He said as he glanced behind at the wreckage of a room once more. "Worse."



Things had been continuously getting worse for some time now, and that hadn’t changed in the day since she’d last seen Vigil. She’d returned to her bar just in time to see that her bar was wrecked, with three imbeciles still there. She had scared two of them off, but the third… Well, after such an eventful night she had needed to replenish her strength, and she would have been lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed exacting a bit of revenge. In all honesty she regretted letting the other two go... Max shook herself from her reverie, silently gathering the bullets in an old bar rag and tucking the bundle in a pocket before turning to pour two drinks. One she slid over to him, keeping the other in her own hand.

“Come on,” she said flatly, turning to head towards the small rooms in the back, “It’s time you and I had a conversation, don’t you think?” Her voice trailed off.

Vigil looked down at his own drink, musing over it's swirling contents as she spoke, then she was already walking away on her own. She didn't even turn to see if he was behind and caught the eye of one of her employees as she went, signaling that Isaac was to take over the bar.

"...great." He muttered as he watched her disappear from the corner of his eye.


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Max pushed open the door that led to her office, circling the heavy wooden desk that sat in the middle of the room before smoothly sitting down in her chair. A long, long moment later, Vigil entered the room holding yet another glass of absinthe. Looking at Vigil, she gestured to the smaller chair on the other side.

Swiftly unlocking a drawer, Max pulled out the large tome they had found the night before, setting it down heavily between them. She narrowed her eyes at Vigil cheerlessly. “So,” she said. “Would you like to begin, or shall I?”

He gestured for her to speak up first, still standing as he did so.

“Were you aware of what we would find down there, for instance?” She cooly arched one eyebrow before adding, “and hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s... impolite not to mention how much blood magic is going to be involved in something before you start?”

Vigil narrowed a look back at her, “Two nights ago, you were the last person I expected to be involved.” Vigil then shook his head tiredly, this was going to go nowhere.

”I didn't know what was going to happen. If I did then THIS -" He growled, pointing sternly at where the stab wound was on His own chest, "- would not have happened." He then flinched uncomfortably when he crossed his arms back once more, scrunching his nose slightly, "You might be touching someone's skin by the way." He remarked somewhat offhandedly.

Max waved a hand dismissively. “The stuff it’s bound in is the least of our worries. It’s the contents I’m more concerned with. It’s not exactly light reading.”

Vigil reluctantly ran his palm over the cover, trying to confirm his suspicions and his brow soon furrowed. “Resin preserved. Dammar.” He eyed the bindings and the inscription on the front, noting the font and style. “Masonian edition.” Then he opened up the book, reading it’s first few phrases before closing it sharply with a loud thump. The dreadful book detailed disturbing necrotic rituals, something he was not in the mood for at the moment.



“I see.”


“Sacrifices, reanimation, possession, it actually covers quite the variety of things. Some of it seems connected to the… spiderlike things we ran into. I’m sure some of it has to do with whatever got you involved in all of this in the first place as well.”

Vigil looked up upon hearing her words, then turned his gaze away from her and out at the nearby window, slowly, he took a few steps towards it and pressed one blind down with two fingers. His stare hardened.

"Something is happening out there right now..." He said, remembering her words last night. “This knowledge is valuable.”

Max looked surprised. “You want to sell it? I definitely know a few who would pay quite the sum for something like this. I hadn’t thought you would be interested in auctioning it off, however.” Mentally, she was already thinking of clients who would kill, or pay, eagerly to get their hands on a tome such as this.

“The book?” He had not considered that yet, “...Give me a few days to duplicate it and we can sell it to more than one person.” Vigil thoughtfully scratched his sideburns. “No point making just one sum.” He mumbled.

“But I’m talking about the note you found as well. Where is it?”


She produced the note from her desk with a flourish, handing it to him.


“You ...We could earn more than a few favours from the police with this. They’ve been cracking their skulls,” He held it and read it over, glancing sideways as he thought of someone in particular, “...on this. The missing bodies, the electrical disruption. We can make their job easier.”

Max scoffed. “The biggest favour the police in this city have done me was leaving me alone. Besides, they’re all as corrupt as can be. How would we even know we were giving the information to someone who wasn’t already involved?”

“We pray and hope our luck doesn’t run out.” He said as a matter of factly. “Not all of them are corrupt ...I ...well, I won’t mention you if that keeps you sound.”

“Prayer, hope, and luck, huh? That’s got to be a first in this city. And I’d much appreciate it if you didn’t mention me.”

“And Wit."

She paused. “...Fine. We’ll involve the authorities.”

Vigil nodded, "Leave it to me.” He said assuringly, picking up the book and turning towards the door, "I'll call you when it's done ...I have to take care of something now." Then swiftly made his way out of the office, the bar and into the evening air.

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Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

Android user here ftw! IRL, that is.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

@Kingfisher Mhmm! Hey, strawberry don't go googling that!

By the by, in an electrical outage do telecommunications still work? I've never met a townwide short circuit before but I do know satellite dishes are hooked on to land lines to function. It's a thing to consider in an upcoming post.

Welcome to Santa Somabra [Fantasy Noir]

@Kingfisher It is, I'll tell you there are games rather recently out there that have rather disturbing premises of that include child-like animatronics, perhaps one of the more recent titles is what inspired the phobia in our reptile friend.

@Strawberry425 I'm glad I got to play gooseberry with you and your dream girl. In IRL. Maybe just maybe, she's squeezing your butt in her dreams.

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