Scrapula

Devils Never Cry: A Devil May Cry RP

A few dozen miles away from the city, there was a gas station. It sold gasoline for two dollars and seventy-five cents a gallon, and sold terrible snack cakes for a dollar and sixty-nine cents a package. Nonetheless, it faced quite a lot of business due to its savvy location and the immediately recognizable shell logo it had emblazoned on top of the roof. It serviced trucks, sedans, minivans, jeeps, motorcycles, and even an APC once, though nobody knew who owned that one. Currently, it was serving a perfectly-preserved Spanish man-o-war, which was odd because the nearest body of water was a small lake eighty miles away and the Spanish naval empire was dismantled over a century ago.

Situated at Pump #1 was a sour-faced Spaniard wearing a 16th-century nobleman's clothing and someone who, by every metric of his being, demonstrated that he was the first mate of a ship, presumably the man-o-war mentioned previously. The Spaniard's eyebrows furrowed as he experimentally prodded at some buttons on the pump. Unsatisfied with the results this was getting, he turned to his first mate.

"So," said the Spaniard, "you're supposed to swipe this card in this... device, and then you pull the trigger on the gun to make it discharge oil?"
"Aye, cap'n! Leastwise, that's what t' tradesman said when Yangqui put the sword to 'is throat." said the first mate. The Spaniard did so, causing the display to read "SWIPE AGAIN".
"It's not working, Mister Edwards!" the Spaniard growled. The first mate scratched his head and glared at the card. He tried swiping the other side of the card, which seemed to work. Laughing triumphantly, the Spaniard unhooked the gas nozzle and squirted an experimental spray of petrol on the ground. Satisfied, he squirted it into an old-fashioned gas lantern and handed it to his first mate.
"Have the men fill the rest of the containers, Mister Edwards," said the Spaniard, "and I expect not to hear of any more issues today. Return to the ship when you've finished."


The Spaniard looked up to the hull of his ship, towering over him and the gas station. After a brief moment of calculation, he unholstered a pistol from his hip and aimed it at the ground behind him. With a terrifying

BOOM

the Spaniard sent himself spiraling skywards. At the top of his ascent, the Spaniard hurled himself forward and swung over the railing on the top of the ship in one smooth motion. "Attention!" a voice cried, "Cap'n Alonzo's on the deck!"

Captain Alonzo holstered his pistol, and strode to the ship's helm. Navigator Juarez extended his rotting arms in a stiff salute, and moved to Alonzo's side.
"Barometric pressure's dropping, cap'n," growled the navigator, "there's a storm on the horizon. Your orders?"
"Stay on course, mister navigator. Mother's magic predicted an... event would be happening somewhere in this area. The fabric of reality is growing thinner here, and we need to be there before it disappears entirely."

Alonzo turned to address the forecastle. "Midshipman Briggs!" Alonzo roared. A timid-looking skeleton wearing far too much jewelry for its own good stood to attention. "Unfurl the Spectre-Sails and call the men back to the ship! Come hell or high water, we will reach the city square before the storm breaks!"

With a mighty roaring sound, the ship's masts flared to life with a canvas blazing green transluscent cloth. Bathed in a corona of ethereal energy, Alonzo gripped the ship's wheel tightly and turned it to face the road. Like a ghost on roller skates, the man-o-war glided weightlessly along the streets, aimed directly towards the middle of the city.

Devils Never Cry: A Devil May Cry RP

I'll get started on my intro post, then!

Devils Never Cry: A Devil May Cry RP

@IncredibleBee Is my CS good, or is there anything you think I should fix up?

Devils Never Cry: A Devil May Cry RP

I stayed up a bit to polish this off, but it's finished! What do you think?

Alonzo Gaspar de Aguirre

Alonzo Gaspar de Aguirre, the Pirate King of Hell

Biography

Alonzo Gaspar de Aguirre was born in the year of our lord 1650; he never knew who his mother was, or why his father refused to ever speak about her. Alonzo's childhood was fraught with tragedy, seemingly engineered by outside forces to destroy his morals and drive him into the horrors of crime. At the ripe age of 13, Alonzo was hired onto a Spanish merchantman as a mere assistant to the bo'sun. After a mere three years in service, the crew he was serving with mutinied. Alonzo never figured out why he was mutinying, but he took it in stride as he helped his new mates haul the old captain into his new position at the ship's keel. That night, Alonzo crept into his new captain's quarters with a boning knife and secured command of the ship. With his position confirmed, Alonzo hoisted the black flag and prepared for his new life.

On Alonzo's thirtieth birthday, his ship was assaulted at sea by some invisible force. His crew had been slaughtered to a man, and he himself had been bound with black ivy in his sleep. His captor loomed over him and offered him a deal: bring himself into servitude or be executed. With no other options, Alonzo accepted, and his captor warmly welcomed him... as mother to son. He, she explained, was an experiment. Her name was Scylla, and she was eager to see how he had grown.

Under the command of his demonic mother, Alonzo was granted insight into his parentage and training for his powers. In exchange, Alonzo would perform certain... tasks for his father. Thwarting the plans of her rivals, blunting the teeth of those who would hunt her, and granting her followers ever greater power amongst human and demon society.

Over years of terror and conquest, Alonzo and his mother grew confident and lazy. A group of church operatives, masquerading as pirate hunters, had managed to corner his and her fleet off the northeastern coast of the New World. Alonzo's men fought bravely as Scylla brought the very ocean to bear against her pursuers, but eventually the church prevailed. Alonzo, his men, and Scylla were forced onto the coast and sealed for centuries in the cold ground. But over the years, the continuing corruption of humanity has weakened the magics that sealed Alonzo, and now he and his allies are free again to wreak havoc on a changed world. Now fueled only by his lust for power, Alonzo prowls the land, immortal and hateful.

Devil Arm: Lamia, the Grappling Sword

The Lamia is a rapier created from the demon of the same name. Its grip and guard are inlaid with beautiful spirals of gold and silver, and the blade is much thicker than most normal rapiers. When Alonzo strikes with Lamia, the blade magically flexes and grows, trying to entangle its target. The blade is lined with thousands of sharp teeth, too small to be seen but sharp enough to shred and shatter anything it wraps around.

Firearm: Roc, the Golden Cannon

Roc is a powerful matchlock pistol formed out of Lamia's defeated comrade and lover. Inlaid with gold and decorated with ancient wood, the Roc is impossibly beautiful. But when it fires, the Roc unleashes a terrible blast of fire and wind that can peel steel apart and vaporize flesh. Roc doesn't need ammunition to fire, and has a range of only a couple yards before the blast wave it released dissipates into uselessness.

Skills/Abilities

Blue Stinger: Control over one's aerial movements is surprisingly simple, once you get the hang of it. Alonzo has developed the ability to send himself hurtling swordfirst through the air, even from a standing position.

Seaman: Scylla's mastery over the oceans of the world has been somewhat passed down to Alonzo. Though he cannot will water to wipe out his foes, his motions are extremely fluid underwater and anyone attempting to move through water near him will find themselves floundering uselessly.

Thunder Force: Being sealed has given Alonzo hundreds of years to practice the fine arts of aerodynamics using Roc as his favored launching tool. By simply aiming his handcannon backwards and firing, Alonzo can send himself flying.

Crazy Taxi: Alonzo is, as any good captain should be, intricately linked to his ship. This link is so profound that it is willing to ferry him across any surface it can conceivably fit on. Be it sea, land, or air, Alonzo's ship is more than capable of fording it. When Alonzo wishes, he can send it hauling into the realm between worlds, allowing it to follow him without attracting much attention.

Ghost Squad: Alonzo's ghostly crew are forced to serve him even after their mortal lives. If Alonzo so wishes, he can instantly teleport a small handful of undead pirates to assist him. The pirates themselves are barely stronger than normal humans only due to their inability to feel pain, and Alonzo can only call on up to five of them at a time.

Other: Alonzo has no idea what modern society or technology is like, and is frankly insulted that the Age Of Wooden Ships And Iron Men has long passed. Nothing can convince him to upgrade his ship, though he may be willing to steal more advanced weaponry and plunder the treasures of the Information Age. Thar be gold in them circuits, after all!

Devils Never Cry: A Devil May Cry RP

Alright! I'll get working on a CS soon.

Devils Never Cry: A Devil May Cry RP

@IncredibleBee Are you still accepting new players? I distinctly recall being in a DMC rp with you before, but I'm not certain of the details.

Entomos; Kingdom of Insects

<Snipped quote by Scrapula>

What services would Pecta request from Michel?

@Stern Algorithm

There's the, ah, obvious, as well as more mundane duties. Acting as a negotiator, helping keep track of plans and winnings, training, carrying supplies, assisting in administering justice, and some diplomacy in both "gunboat" and "legitimate" flavors.

Entomos; Kingdom of Insects

@Stern Algorithm, I think your and my characters would be a good match together. If you don't mind, I'd like to have 'em work together.

Entomos; Kingdom of Insects

Pecta

---

Character Summary

Name:Septima-Fleur Pecta, Seventh Offspring of Matrone Fleur Under Atlas
Age:Maturity
Race: Moth
Gender:Female
Class/Job: Poet, Wrestler, Artist, Athlete.

---

Belongings

• One gram of chalk
• Seven days' worth of hand-packed Moth rations
• Three milliliters of imported vespid juices
• Thirty Chips, in a coinpurse
• Vellum, ink, other writing supplies
• Carving knife, forged in Bee territory
• Official seal of the Society of Atlas

Skills and Abilities

• Reigning champion of the semiannual Tournament of Roots, in wrestling, the hammer-throw, and the Four-Species Triathlon
• Third place runner-up of the alternatingly semiannual Tournament of Buds, in Lepidopteran Insult-Poetry, dance, and floristry
• Studied under the legendary gentlemoth-adventurer Attacus, whose controversial statements on Wasp society encouraged an underground movement of exceptionally physical Moths and Butterflies. To graduate from Attacus's tutelage, all students must be able to wrestle a fully-matured Beetle into submission and, immediately thereafter, compose a poem to Attacus's satisfaction on the effect of physique on the mind.
• Through constant training and an excellent diet, Pecta has attained a level of strength unseen among Moths and extraordinarily rare among Spiders and Beetles. Pecta is capable of shattering chitin and bending steel with her bare hands, and uses her finely-trained wrestling skills to twist enemies into submission.
• Being a Moth, Pecta has a certain finesse to her flying, focusing on inscrutable drops and upswings that sync with the movements of the wind, allowing her to maintain a constant speed and confuse her chasers.

---

^{"It is every Moth's prerogative to ensure their growth in all respects; we shall live only to live more!}

Personality

Pecta is unusually blunt for a Moth, and doesn't even attempt to show any tact at times. Pecta is extremely eager to showcase her physical and artistic prowess, and refuses to shy away from nearly any challenge she faces. Unfortunately, this has caused her to become foolhardy and outright confrontational, leading her into danger more times than she can count.

History

The brood of Matrone Fleur, fathered by Attacus, were notorious among the clerics presiding over her great birthing and subsequent funeral for having an unusual waspishness to them. Going with a common trend at the time, Attacus gave each of his twenty offspring the same name, differentiated by a number appended with their broodmother's name. Their father numbered them using Wasp-language, and fed them on sweet nectar infused with the same juices Wasps nursed their grubs with. As the brood developed, their growth was extraordinary.

Every Pecta, from Primus-Fleur to Dodecanus-Fleur, was raised in the same way: education of the rich history of their fief and neighbors in the daytime, and brutal physical training in the night. Septima-Fleur took well to the strain of their night training, and grew to tower over most of her siblings.

When each of Attacus's offspring had passed their final test and came of age, they were given a stipend of money, an official seal bearing their father's heraldry, and firm orders to go out and do something. Primus-Fleur went off as a mercenary, Secundus-Fleur a percussionist minstrel, Tertia-Fleur a royal guard, and so on. Septima-Fleur, unsure of her true calling, simply wandered off, returning every year only to compete in the Moths' many tourneys for glory, money, and smug satisfaction.

Entomos; Kingdom of Insects

Repostan' muh sheet, in that case!

Pecta

Pecta

---

Character Summary

Name:Septima-Fleur Pecta, Seventh Offspring of Matrone Fleur Under Atlas
Age:Maturity
Race: Moth
Gender:Female
Class/Job: Poet, Wrestler, Artist, Athlete.

---

Belongings

• One gram of chalk
• Seven days' worth of hand-packed Moth rations
• Three milliliters of imported vespid juices
• Thirty Chips, in a coinpurse
• Vellum, ink, other writing supplies
• Carving knife, forged in Bee territory
• Official seal of the Society of Atlas

Skills and Abilities

• Reigning champion of the semiannual Tournament of Roots, in wrestling, the hammer-throw, and the Four-Species Triathlon
• Third place runner-up of the alternatingly semiannual Tournament of Buds, in Lepidopteran Insult-Poetry, dance, and floristry
• Studied under the legendary gentlemoth-adventurer Attacus, whose controversial statements on Wasp society encouraged an underground movement of exceptionally physical Moths and Butterflies. To graduate from Attacus's tutelage, all students must be able to wrestle a fully-matured Beetle into submission and, immediately thereafter, compose a poem to Attacus's satisfaction on the effect of physique on the mind.
• Through constant training and an excellent diet, Pecta has attained a level of strength unseen among Moths and extraordinarily rare among Spiders and Beetles. Pecta is capable of shattering chitin and bending steel with her bare hands, and uses her finely-trained wrestling skills to twist enemies into submission.
• Being a Moth, Pecta has a certain finesse to her flying, focusing on inscrutable drops and upswings that sync with the movements of the wind, allowing her to maintain a constant speed and confuse her chasers.

---

^{"It is every Moth's prerogative to ensure their growth in all respects; we shall live only to live more!}

Personality

Pecta is unusually blunt for a Moth, and doesn't even attempt to show any tact at times. Pecta is extremely eager to showcase her physical and artistic prowess, and refuses to shy away from nearly any challenge she faces. Unfortunately, this has caused her to become foolhardy and outright confrontational, leading her into danger more times than she can count.

History

The brood of Matrone Fleur, fathered by Attacus, were notorious among the clerics presiding over her great birthing and subsequent funeral for having an unusual waspishness to them. Going with a common trend at the time, Attacus gave each of his twenty offspring the same name, differentiated by a number appended with their broodmother's name. Their father numbered them using Wasp-language, and fed them on sweet nectar infused with the same juices Wasps nursed their grubs with. As the brood developed, their growth was extraordinary.

Every Pecta, from Primus-Fleur to Dodecanus-Fleur, was raised in the same way: education of the rich history of their fief and neighbors in the daytime, and brutal physical training in the night. Septima-Fleur took well to the strain of their night training, and grew to tower over most of her siblings.

When each of Attacus's offspring had passed their final test and came of age, they were given a stipend of money, an official seal bearing their father's heraldry, and firm orders to go out and do something. Primus-Fleur went off as a mercenary, Secundus-Fleur a percussionist minstrel, Tertia-Fleur a royal guard, and so on. Septima-Fleur, unsure of her true calling, simply wandered off, returning every year only to compete in the Moths' many tourneys for glory, money, and smug satisfaction.