Rabidporcupine

Legend of Zelda AU: Children of Hyrule [Need Din!]

@Holy Soldieryeah, I figured that would be the case. I just didn't say anything because at the time, they were only really possible ideas am not really a solid thing. I'll send the pm soon, so yeah, let me know what you think.

Winds of Change: A Re:Creators-Inspired Multiverse RP (Reboot)

@Crusader Lord
I mean, Robin probably doesn't actually need any help killing Chrom here. She's done it before, after all...

Winds of Change: A Re:Creators-Inspired Multiverse RP (Reboot)

@Crusader Lord@VitaVitaAR@PKMNB0Y

OWAIN DARK!

"Ah, of course!" Owain said at Robin's explanation. "How could I forget that you, like myself, are also a legendary hero chosen by fate? To those like us, time and space themselves are merely a shattered mirror! I too have spoken to my own reflections from countless worlds, many of whom are quite different to myself, yet are all equally Owain Dark! Or Odin Dark, in case we meet any of my current allies..."

It was only then that he truly noticed the young girl Robin had been talking to, causing his eyes to widen slightly in shock.

"Oh, I... have no memory of this child..." He said, trying and failing to hide his confusion. "Is she... I mean-... Your... Your child?"

Before he could continue to embarrass himself however, he felt a presence which had him spinning around, eyes narrowed. In that very same instant, he watched his uncle Chrom, Exalt of Ylisse and personal hero of his, cutting down civilians in the street. Sadly, or perhaps in this case mercifully, it was clear that this Chrom had no choice in the matter, a dark aura floating around the man in a way that seemed rather familiar, and yet different at the same time.

Before he could even open his mouth, the great exalt had dashed towards him, blade inches from his neck. However, he had grown up training against Lucina, whose fighting style mirrored her fathers down to the most minute detail. Thanks to that, Owain was nearly as skilled at defending against the style as either of them were at wielding it. Of course, the months he spent training as a blademaster under King Ryoma himself during the war against Valla helped too.

And so, drawing his only mighty blade Missiltaine, he quickly spun out of the way, batting the falchion with his own in order to try and artificially overextend Chrom's swing for him. Before he had even finished doing so, he was already preparing his next move.

"Forgive me Uncle, but from one dark swordsman to another, I promise I will stop you before disgrace yourself again!"

And then he pulled out a small series of ink paintings, which began to float in a ring around his hand.

"SHADOW DRAGON ASSAULT!" He shouted, as a great black and white dragon of ink burst from the ring and flew towards Chrom.

Legend of Zelda AU: Children of Hyrule [Need Din!]

@Holy Soldier
By the way, do you want me to pm you agout the secret backstory stuff Cid doesn't even know?

Dawne | A Japanese School Life RP

Ok, so I'd been holding out hope that I just needed to give them enough time and they'd eventually post, but I think it's about time I accept that my other two friends, good old Oryun and Amatsun have disappeared for good. I'll post again as soon as I can figure out a good way to explain their disappearances away.

Legend of Zelda AU: Children of Hyrule [Need Din!]

@Holy Soldier
Ok, so I know how this looks, but I swear to god, I'm gonna try not to let him be too edgy! Even with the white hair, scar, and the whole painfulbackstorythatmakeshimconstantlyseekpower thing! Also as I write that, I wonder if he might have been better as the child of Din, but I want him to grow into the whole courage thing, and more importantly, I want to give him the cool wind-powered acrobatics...

Cidro

Character Name:
Cidro

Nickname:
Cid

Age:
Thirteen

Gender:
Male

Race:
Sheikah

Height:
4'6"

Weight:
About 62 pounds.

Hair Color:
White, because Sheikah.

Eye Color:
Green, but like, really green.

Visual Description:


Written Description:
Cidro is very short, even for his age. This is probably due to malnutrition, but who can really say? He has messy hair that shares the same white colouring with the rest of his people and has green eyes, one of which is covered by a scar from an old fight. His clothes are fairly simple, consisting of a white tunic, brown pants and a pale cloak. He also wields a staff that, at least at the moment, seems a bit too big for his tiny frame. The staff itself is rather odd looking, appearing mostly black except for a number of orange, circular patterns that seem to glow.

Goddess:
Farore

Primary Weapon:
A large staff, black with a number of orange, glowing circular patterns scattered along it.He has also seen blue blades appear out of either end while being wielded by Malo, but he has no idea how to make it do that.

Off-hand:
N/A

Projectile:
Throwing knives, nothing particularly special.

Magic Power:
Manipulation of air and wind

Occupation:
At the moment? Wander the country side and try not to starve to death.

Current Story:
Cidro's story is actually fairly simple considering his current circumstances. He never knew his parents, nor has he ever been to Kahariko. Instead, he was raised by one of the many merchants that wandered Hyrule, an elderly man named Malo. The merchant rarely talked about his life before adopting Cid, except one where he admitted Malo wasn't actually his real name, instead having taken it from a legendary merchant of ancient Hyrule. The young boy eventually learnt to just stop asking, and although he never truly managed to force down his curiosity, he simply decided that, rather than force the issue, he should just try to impress the man enough that he decided to tell him on his own.

Throughout the years, Malo taught Cid all about surviving on the move, outside the settlements dotting Hyrule. This included not only basic things like hunting, cooking, and finding or creating makeshift shelters, but also self defense. This was generally limited to polearms and small, thrown weapons such as knives, as those were all Malo himself had any real talent in. Of course, while the old man might have had a fairly imposing physique for his age, he wasn't exactly on the level of a real warrior. He was a merchant! Therefore, even though he eventually began to get the hang of fighting, there was only so much the lessons could give.

Still, by the time he was nine years old, Cid had actually managed to become fairly decent with the weapons. In addition to this, he had discovered a weird ability he seemed to have where, if he really concentrated, he could make small gusts of wind by swinging his arms. It was only really enough to sway the grass, or if he used it right, make him move a little faster, but combined with his weapon training, it meant that he was around the level where he could take on a bokoblin or two and come out with only a few scratches. However, he would soon learn that bokoblins weren't the enemies he had to be on the look out for.

Only a few days before his tenth birthday, Cidro had his first encounter with the masked men.

He and Malo had set up camp for the night by a small lakeside forest, and he had wandered to the waters edge to fish for dinner. It was only the glint of reflected sunlight shining from the top of a nearby tree that gave it away, the boy quickly shifting his leg out of the way of the arrow that otherwise would have gone straight through his leg. After that, everything seemed to blur together. He remembered somehow managing to raise the wooden fishing pole up just in time to bat away the sickle shaped blade, only for a second swing to cut his makeshift weapon in two. However, it seemed from the way his masked assailant was acting that he wasn't trying to kill Cid so much as just incapacitate him. This theory was strengthened by the way the warrior knocked the boy to the ground and quickly began to tie his hands and feet behind his back.

He was terrified, sure that he was about to suffer a terrible fate, his captor was sent flying into the water, replaced by a familiar bushy mane of white hair. However, where usually Malo might come off as tired, or even kind of lazy, it was clear that the man who stood before him now was ready, and quite possibly able, to take on an army all on his own.

This man wasn't just a merchant. He was a warrior.

Before Cid could free himself from his not-quite-finished bindings, an additional pair of masked warriors appeared from the tree tops, and he watched in awe as Malo expertly fought and weaved his way between all three of them. For a moment, he swore he saw a flash of blue appear at one end of the old man's staff, sending one of the attackers slumped against a tree, bleeding from the chest. However, it seemed like the other two were beginning to figure out Malo's movements, adjusting their own to fight him more effectively. After what seemed like an eternity, the boy finally managed to wriggle free of his bindings, and rather than run like any sensible person would, he grabbed a long stick and rushed back towards the fight, worried that the man who had raised him his entire life might be hurt if the battle lasted any longer.

He only had time to notice the concerned expression on Malo's face before he felt a heavy kick collide with his chest, throwing him face first into a tree and plunging the world into darkness.

When he awoke, it was nearing the dawn of the next day, and his face was covered in blood. The masked men were gone. Malo was too. All that was left was the old man's staff, which he had claimed for so long to simply be an overdecorated walking stick. Tired, hurt, and worried, Cid decided that all he could do was wait at the camp, bandage up his injured face, and see if Malo made it back soon. But then a day passed. Then the next one did too. After a week had passed with no sign of Malo, Cid gave up, and after gathering what he could carry in his pack, he returned to the nomadic lifestyle he had known for so long, only now short one family member.

For the next three years, Cidro threw himself into training with more fervor than he even knew he had. He didn't know why the masked men had attacked him, but he doubted it was just for no reason. This meant that they might come back for him again, and when that happened, he needed to be ready for them. By the time he was thirteen, he was capable of taking on several red bokoblins at once, and had even made it through fights with a couple of silver ones without being too badly injured... Of course, this was largely due to him forcing himself to improve his ability to manipulate the wind, to the point where he could leap from tree to tree with ease and pull of acrobatic maneuvers that he would only be able to dream of otherwise. He was sure he could weaponise it too, but he hadn't really managed to get the hang of that for some reason yet...

However, he would have to learn it soon. Unless he became as strong as he possibly could, he would never make it the next time they came for him, never learn their secrets, and never find out what happened to the closest thing he had to a parent... If for no other reason than to find out Malo's fate, he will continue to wander the world, seeking the skills he'll need.

Legend of Zelda AU: Children of Hyrule [Need Din!]

@Holy Soldier
Just working on the backstory for now. If I don't get it up tonight, I'll have it up tomorrow.

A Truly Gifted World (Perpetually Seeking!)

@EchoicChamber
Nah, you're fine. I know the feeling too well to be able to sling shade at anyone else for it!

Winds of Change: A Re:Creators-Inspired Multiverse RP (Reboot)

Christ, that took way longer than I'd expected...

Winds of Change: A Re:Creators-Inspired Multiverse RP (Reboot)

@TheFake@PKMNB0Y@VitaVitaAR@Crusader Lord

ODIN DARK

Kanda Myojin Shrine

---

When Odin awoke, he was distinctly aware that he was not in fact in his comfortable new bed within Castle Krakenburg. Instead, all he felt was the hard of the stone beneath him, and the warmth of the sun on his face. This alone told him two things. That he was outside, and that he almost definitely wasn't in Nohr anymore.

Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, only to notice some very familiar architecture. Why would he be in Hoshido though? How could he be in Hoshido? The last thing he remembered was running around Windmire with Arthur, helping out the citizens with their ridiculously heroic deeds. Of course, their noble deeds got them plenty of offers for free drinks, but they'd both turned them down, knowing they should be in top shape in case either Lord Leo or Lady Elise needed them. Was it perhaps possible that at some point, their resolve had weakened and they'd taken up their offers?

No... No, he was wrong... All it took was one look at the people around him that they weren't Hoshidans. The people of the newly allied nation all had a very distinct way of dressing, and while yes, a few of the people in the crowd were dressed that way, the vast majority seemed to be dressed very differently. It seemed pretty unusual to him, honestly, but seeing as just about everyone was dressed like that, it seemed that he in his grandmaster's cloak was the clear outlier in this situation.

And then he shot up, only noticing from the way so many of the people jumped back that they'd all been crowding around him. Oh no, they must've been worried about him after seeing him lying on the floor! Looks like it was time to show everyone he was ok...

"Worry not, fair citizens!" He shouted, shifting into a really cool pose. "I, the legendary ODIN DARK, would not succumb to the mere elements so easily!"

Upon seeing that the, as one member of the crowd so eloquently put it, "Crazy gaijin cosplayer" seemed to be fine, most of the crowd dispersed. Odin used this opportunity to look around for a bit, noticing that as he'd suspected, this was some kind of shrine. It certainly looked Hoshidan, that was for sure. Maybe this was a smaller nation close enough to the country that it's culture was still affected by it, like Izumo and Kohga had been.

Deciding that following this lead was probably his best chance, even though it could very well be incorrect, he began to look around for someone he could ask directions from. As luck would have it, there were still a couple of people standing around him curiously, and Odin decided that out of all of them, the one that was clapping and chuckling seemed like the best bet to talk to.

"Man, I've gotta say, that's actually pretty impressive!" The young man said, looking over his cloak. "I don't usually go for cosplay, but your cloak is really well done, and you've even gotten the voice and stuff down too!"

"Why thank you!" Odin shouted, not letting out that he had no idea what cosplay meant. "As a great warrior, it is important to always give off an inspiring aura. However, I'm afraid that at this moment, I find myself slightly lost... Would you know the way to Nohr, by any chance?"

"Well, I don't know about Nohr, but you can get back to Akihabara that way." The guy said, pointing back over his shoulder. "I just came from there. I actually saw a few other cosplayers there too, including a fire emblem one. Is she your friend?"

"My friend?" Odin asked, lost in thought for a second. He'd thought he was far from home, but maybe, just maybe, he was closer to even Hoshido than he'd realized somehow. The man had mentioned the Fire Emblem, after all, and he knew that Lady Corrin's sword, the Omega Yato, seemed to be some alternate form of said artifact. Maybe that meant she was in the area? He didn't hold out hopes that it was his worlds Fire Emblem though. Getting back wouldn't be so easily achieved...

He looked back to the man and nodded, a wide grin on his face.

"Well, maybe!" He said. "I had thought I was far from home, but if I can find my companions so close, then there is nothing to fear! Thank you friend!"

And then he was off, rushing towards this so called 'Akihabara'.

---

Akihabara

---

This wasn't Hoshido. This wasn't even close. Yes, the buildings towered over him, just like those of the countries capital, but they looked completely different to the unique construction the kingdom was famous for, the kind he saw at the shrine. and they glowed! Each and every sign glowed with an internal light that left Odin in awe.

This awe was heavily mixed with excitement, however, as he found himself seeing people in all kinds of uniforms. This led him to assume that, rather than being a country in the normal world, this was some kind deeprealm meeting place like that museum with the fighting tournament they joined every few days, with people from all kinds of worlds converging on one location.

Still, something seemed a little off about the whole situation. Despite being surrounded by more colourful characters than he could even count, he was noticing more and more that the vast majority seemed to lack... something. He wasn't really sure what, but it was almost like none of them had any power inside them somehow. He hoped that when he found Lady Corrin, the pair of them would be able to come up with some ideas about just what was going on.

And it was as he scanned the area for his friends that Odin saw something that froze him in place. The buildings, the bustling of the streets, the world itself. Everything vanished as he saw that familiar cloak, practically identical to his own, and the stark white hair that had burned itself into his memories.

"Fa...ther?.."

He took a step forward. Then two. And then he was running. Sprinting. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noticed something was just a little off, but before he could even begin to think about that, he had all but tackled the familiar figure.

"FATHER!!!" Owain shouted, ecstatic despite his excessively ugly crying. "I can't believe it! I'd always hoped, but-! You-! FAAAAATHEEERRR!!!"

However, even as he continued his outburst, he noticed something was... off...

For the sake of modesty, he decided to focus most of his brain power on the fact that he could feel hair under his hands, despite them being wrapped around the figures shoulders.

Slowly, dread filled him as he stepped back, staring at the woman he'd just basically tackled. However, before he could be overtaken by the mortification that would normally set in after that kind of interaction with a stranger, he was able to note that there really were a lot of similarities to the man who had raised him, and later led him to victory after victory. Too many for it to be a coincidence.

"No... You... You are him, aren't you?" Owain asked. "In some way, you aren't, but you still are Robin..."

And then he let out a loud gasp, his hands flying to his cheeks in excitement.

"Are you his reincarnation?!" He shouted. "Could my father, the legendary tactician of Exalt Chrom himself, have achieved so much that the gods themselves saw fit to have you defend the world until the ends of time itself?!"

At this point, despite most of the world having come back, he still managed to barely notice the other characters around Robin, caught up as he was in his own speculations.

"Is it based on our lineage?!" He continued, hyping himself up more and more. "Are you somehow my descendant? Or are you completely unrelated to the Ylissean royal line? By Naga, I hope it's our bloodline! That would be so cool!"