ScreenAcne

Mage, Peasant, and Necromancer

I forgot to mention, but this is probably obvious. The stones haven't been stolen quite yet.

@Xikari chan

Tell that to my wife.

Mage, Peasant, and Necromancer

Ladies, I am glad to inform that after spending the evening destroying keyboards in the name of QWERTY, the god of digital words and writing that he had offered me the time and inspiration to make my post.

I'm sorry it took a while but I wanted to try and shorten it a bit as it just wasn't fun at its original length.

Mage, Peasant, and Necromancer

The air was fluttering with the sounds of poor people piffling wears that no one with money wanted, the streets littered with just as many people who had little to distinguish themselves from the actual litter itself paving the side walks. Water flushed from strange pipes from so many sources that everyone feared letting a dribble hit them in case it was from the sewer or the vomiting well near the old bar, releasing stock for the new daily passage of puking for the early drinkers. Dump Down Alley wasn't a place that you like to hear a full description about but it was worse in person, which has earned it infamy for being one of the few places on this world to surpass the words used to depict it.

A tumor in the traffic occurred of bypassing con men and desperately searching nobodies as they all clogged up on the side of one the pavements "LADIES, AND GENTLEMEN" the voice called it out with a theatrical display between his guttural, lower town common tongue but none paid attention "OI, look 'ere you docile drunks" That turned a few. "I wish to present to you, a man from the forest. He has drunk fire, endured stab wounds, dove into the lavender lands in his youth and he is here today to amaze you with the gift from beyond that his many years of teaching have wrought"

The man announcing swung his arms from side to side, wobbled around his prospective observers with the same grace as a drunk warden who couldn't be bothered to shower for a while. His clothes were fancy, as in they did not look like ragged leather from a suicidal cow compared to the merging, patch work of dirty faces at this single junction. A young boy, not yet tainted by his station tugged on a dreary mothers arm who was pulled with ease towards him "Come, mother. Maybe this man can help us" he uttered in tone that proudly displayed hope without shame as the few adults drifted to the side to reveal his potential answer to his enigmatic prays.

Before them all stood a man who eyes had sunken into holes declared too depressing for moles to crawl into unless they gave up on life, his eye sockets were so black that it was hard to tell where his irises sat and the ashen bruises started. His face was wrinkled beyond repair, splitting apart with cracks that only worsened as his cheeks split into a toothy smile, perhaps the only item shown not falling apart so far. His skin wore its veins all over to such an extent it was like peeking into a machines wiring while his pigment was a ghostly whites. He seemed tall, without being it, he was slightly smaller than the regular man but his shadow over took them easily as he stood proud.

His clothes consisted of a red piece of clothe, carefully cleaned with the smell of flower petals while blaring a crimson red. In the areas at his ankles, wrists and right shoulder straps of belt held leather armor and accessories, declaring their experience from the dents collected in the past "Hello" his tongue spitting words like rocks even when smiling.

"Mommy, I don't like him" the child meekly complained in reaction. Becoming teary eyed as she picked him up and carried him away. Her own look still as dead than alive.

"I hate kids"

The crowd quickly closed up around him again as the woman could be spotted cradling her son in her retreat, while none the crowd were crying many who were not so pissed that they could tell what they were actually looking at had a wide set of eyes themselves as they tried not to meet his diamond sharp gaze "Right. Well" the announcer said after the silence soaked in for a moment "now that is over with. May I please offer you. Gin Rae. Master of the Scolding Fist"

"Scolding fist....?" the man spoke up from within the belly of the crowd, he may of been hidden but his voice was blatant in its half annoyed query at the men before him "Yes, the scolding fist. Master of an other worldly summery of spiritual anger. He is the weapon of the dead, the bullet of the body...he is-" the announcer was, however cut off before finishing his spiel "He hits things" The man, this time had come into view. He stood forth, blond hair that would put most nobles to shame and while he had dirt on him like any other. He wore it was a sense of character that delivered confidence, all while he cradle a metal shield.

"My good sir, you make a mockery of the finest art known to man. Martial arts! Can you not see the value in the mastery of the body" the announcer never stopped his gig, he always spoke loudly but judging by how he couldn't actually remain straight for more than ten seconds that might of been because he was as drunk as he actually looked and couldn't tell he was screaming at people "That's all fine and good but we got magic here..I saw a man, turn into a woman yesterday. How the hell is a glorified boxer going to match that" the crowds all bobbled their heads in agreement, half filled with fear as Gin stared into the abyss with enough intensity to scare a statue.

"Well, nay sayer. If you would please put your money where your mouth is. Give me your shield and Gin will prove his power. He will show the art of the angry dead" now the announcer was waving his arms as if he was trying to hypnotist a snake when spoke of the dead, twirling them at all around before slowly taking the shield out of the mans hands who gave consent with his inquisitive frown and lack reaction. The shield was unremarkable, yet polished and sturdy as it was laid to rest on a tiny wooden stall before Gin rae who merely looked down upon it with disdain.

The wind left the area as silence fell, the man before them only placing his hands together and closing his eyes as pointed his forehead at the obstacle before him. His stature stood straight as a tower as the small oncoming collection of breaths came from his noses. Sweat, clambered out his face in evacuation. His body boiled and his nose now breathing in air so hard and out that the man down the street could feel it on his neck. Heat amassed, his nose only getting faster as the vein in his skull twirling under his skin like worms.

"SMASH!"

The blow was not even seen but before anyone could keep up with the sudden strike, his blistering red, sweat soaked hand had fallen on the table. Splitting the shield across the floor along with a collection of splintered wood.

"HEY....THAT'S MY SHIELD" cried out a voice in protest, but it didn't come from the blond haired man. Instead guards were carried in the distance with the accusation towards them, at first Gin looked at the announcer, then at the man.

".......really....." He merely asked before the stool was flooded with guards and officers, and one. Very upset blacksmith.

Mage, Peasant, and Necromancer

It just resonated in my head. Those old childhood shows. aha.

I was hoping you'd say that.. @ScreenAcne can't wait to read yours.

I'm excited to get Jayni in a populated setting have some fun with her personality.

@DeadlyEssence

Don't worry, Deadly. I'll find a way to resonate with your soul jelly more times than a drum playing shaman now that I've risen out of the pile of PM's I've been engaged in. I half expect to be getting letters in my post box from this site soon enough at the rate these are going.

I'm going to post tonight, don't threat about it. I'm just juggling some things onsite and off site.

The Cost of Magic( closed)

@ScreenAcne I am most likely interested~ It's a very intriguing system you've got here, quite different from the usual. I wonder about a couple things, though. Are there any people without any magical attunement? I know Martyrs cannot actively use their power save at the moment of death, but what about people with no power at all? Additionally, what if a Martyr does /not/ make a wish? Will some random great act of whichever element occur? For Manifests, are they able to consciously exercise their power? I'm not really clear how the battery aspect of their ability comes into play. Do they provide power for themselves, or for others (probably Mages)? What if one very rarely uses that energy? Does it build up to dangerous levels and release on its own (possibly resulting in their death, thus the problem with them dying young, among other things)? Or is there an effective max?

The character I'm thinking about using is a female. I've played her at several different ages, and she's generally aligned with water. I'd probably have her be a Manifest -- as a child she was more like a bubbling river, but she's changed since then. She has hidden depths like the ocean, can be relentless like the waves, calm like a lake (at least on the surface), and cold like the rain.

I'm not usually the best at coming up with plot on my own, but I enjoy adding to the ideas of others, and using them as a springboard. I do want an idea of the general story before I commit to joining, however.

@shylarah

A good set of questions. These really help me to flesh out parts I didn't take time to explain.

1: Magic is like the force. It is invisible and everywhere, in everything. Normal people do have magic in them because they all eventually do something that draws it: EG if you get depressed some blight will come to you.

However, this magic is so inert and tiny that you can't use it. You more or less are none magical.

2: A lot of times martyr do not know they are martyr, a lot of magic users express normal emotions. They nor do other people know they are their core magically driven, so when a martyr kills or dies, due to their depressive states they want something to happen but don't actually wish for it. Example: A martyr of fire really wants to be with a girl but can't get her interest. He kills himself in rage at his rejection. Her house magically sets on fire and no water will put it out. He may not of wished for it, but that was his desire at death.

If, the martyr died with no strong feelings on anything. He was somehow devoid and didn't care at all. His power would just be unleashed in a nihilistic rage. Causing loads of smaller problems around (such as load of fires starting in a city) If a martyr knew that they were magical, it really comes down to them personally as to how they would take it but getting rid of that magic wouldn't decrease it-even then he would draw it in quickly again anyway-

3: Manifest are their element for the most part. They express their magic by simply being themselves sort of like how people lose intensity of emotions after an event but they still retain said emotions and they spike up again.

A mage of fire for example could learn spells to emulate feelings or be a fake manifest but it would be costly and exhausting. Manifest don't know they're magical, much like the martyr. To them their personality aspects are just individual traits. They, however don't need to give their mana willing to mages, no more than another person dosen't need to have my consent to be energized by my presence or inspired by the things I do. But...if they kept dogging me, kept asking for more and more...eventually I would get exhausted. That's sort of like a mage. He's doer while the manifest is a being.

An example of a manifest using their own power would be natural: A fire manifest would be naturally attuned to use their element to fix things. Need to hide? Use fire as a distraction. Need to talk, they can be warm and inviting easily. Need to fight, they would use flaming cocktails. They work together.

When Manifest die, they don't release a big boom of power like martyr because they always die by their element. This is the elements way of...over taking their host and leaving.

4: There is no real max to magic but magic degrades for mages- as they are fakes. They don't have it naturally so they must lure it in. Sort of like how someone who is not great at math must study, and continue to study in order to get good at it- Even if you were a master mage, you'd would never be able to recharge or contain as much as a martyr.

You're character idea sounds good and if you want to explore it with me in this world you are free to do so in PMs Typically there are rules for elements but a part about class and elements is that they all similar issues but are expressed in different and unique ways.

That's a reasonable wish. You're free to PM me any suggestions and ideas to me or just chill if you like.

Since there has been enough interest. I will consider adding new classes and putting up some concepts for a story. I might create 3 baby ones that you guys can pick from. If there's a split I'll combine them into one story somehow. It will have to wait though as I have some other things I have to tend to.

The Cost of Magic( closed)

Count me interested (at the very least) as well. I think you've presented a very well thought out magic system. Although I would like to see what kind of story path we would be following before giving a definitive yes or no.

@babbysama

Yes, I will. I will count your interest. It makes me feel pretty good.

Thanks, I can't take all the credit. I really did base a lot of this on homestuck classpect which is a system I always liked. Divinity was just being a champ and discussing story of it all with me.

You're welcome to come and explore of any of this in the PMs with me too or just chill around.

Mage, Peasant, and Necromancer

(I'd like to reveal how he looks when I post. I think it would be more interesting that way)

Name: Gin Rae AKA Crooked Nail

Age: 39

Personality: Gin is a ruthless pragmatist and will typically go for the replying to an action with another action, most of the time out of revenge. He believes in owning your emotions and your ego to the full extent and finds no charm in self depreciation or fronts, making him hard to charm with insincerity. As a person he is comfortable with his worth in this world which can make him seem cold as he doesn't seek out any form of validation...usually. Embittered by harsh experiences and a mind fuzzed by rage he can be envious of other better lives or make rash decisions. He can hold back but doesn't always understand when he has to, both on himself and on others.

Religion: Ex member of Lavender Lake, currently in the Boiling Cup.

The Boiling Cup echo chants out in a monotone drone, choking back feelings of enmity to things unknown like ghosts from the dark forest depths. The Cup most notable item is the hot water they harvest from a metal jug that sits on a fire all day and eve, it is from this they may only drink with a metal goblet. Scolding their hands and burning their throat, only stopping when they become masters at expressing but also containing their anger. As a religion they believe that the spirit world is filled with the fallen and wronged, all reaching out for a way to express their terrifying rage and that a mortal may combine such anger in them. Philosophically they believe in living life, that all things should rise as they should which must be all but is only achievable if they push on their own. Making them antagonistic, unfair and provocative.

Lore:

Gin grew in the arms of the Lavender Lake. An underground religion that uses a potent pink pool of toxic ingredients in order to satisfy their customers and bring their visitors into a state of ecstasy. A wide spread religion, it regularly cares for solders and dabbles in drugs and prostitution. Gin was born in the pool, an occasion that priestess take in order to try and bind the child with the "other worldly" properties of the lake. Those who lived grew up with severe addiction issues or disturbed bodies and minds. Gin left the church at the age of 11 with a selection of other "Mermaids" (other children born in the lake) when his friend died after his weekly drowning session in it.

There he spent a lot of time on the streets. He took a series of poverty line jobs from cleaner to delivery boy however as his mental outburst got worse as he grew up he found himself unable to retain a job. He soon turned to criminal activity, becoming a street boxer before being picked up by a local gang lord to act as a brute man. On his 34th birthday he beat his mother to death in a fit of rage, causing him to run away and meditate on his sins and his issues. He now travels the town, practicing a philosophy of a minor Monk group called: Boiling Cup.

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Abilities: Gin has a respectable knowledge of cults and obscure religions in general.

Gin body is morphed by abuse and born in toxins. As a result he abnormally capable of remaining focused under sedatives and drugs.

Gin has an understanding of underworld criminal practices and powers.

Poverty is a weird weakness but gins religious and criminal background has locked him to living a frugal life style at best. Desperate at worse.

Weaknesses: He has no formal weapon training nor armor training outside of leather.

His corruption by the Lavender Lake hits him randomly. Causing emotional issues and confusion, making him lost and dazed even in peace at times.

His religions both have poor reputations, harming the chance people will accept his word or help.

Hobbies: Gin has a love for carving little monk like figures in his spare time, along with other arch types from his life.

He will occasionally tell stories if prompted, using it as a regular past time even when alone.

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Techniques:

Rage of the Dead: Gin may harvest both his anger and the rage from beyond into a single punch. Steam rises from him as he heats up even in deathly winter, delivering a masterful strike that will treat steel plate as clothe- Requires a small charge time and is very noticeable.

Will thru me: In a case he may be brainwashed, controlled, forced to sleep or drugged he may call upon his teachings to gain the otherworldly endurance of other spirits. He is not immune but may resist all attempts for a few minutes, allowing him a chance to fight.

The Scolding: When wounded to a near fatal extent he may surpass the limits of his body meditating and regaining stability in extreme cases (pierced lung. Arm torn off) however he will still die without aid in time.

A mage, peasant, and necromancer (Fantasy RP)

Thank you. *Bows

And what about @ScreenAcne who wanted the quiet peasant?

@DeadlyEssence

I got a semi-alive character It's very late for me and there's only so long I can go without sleep before I try typing in slurred Latin like a drunken brew master with an attitude from the years of yore.

However. I'll post the quickie proto of him from our Pm:

Name: Gin Rea

Age: 46

Lore:

He grew in the arms of the Lavender Lake. An underground religion that uses a potent pink pool of toxic ingredients in order to satisfy their customers and bring their visitors into a state of ecstasy. A wide spread religion, it regularly cares for solders and dabbles in drugs and prostitution. Gin was born in the pool, an occasion that priestess take in order to try and bind the child with the "other worldly" properties of the lake. Many of lived grew up with severe addiction issues, others with crippling mental illnesses. Gin himself left the church at the age of 11 with a selection of other "Mermaids" (other children born in the lake) when his friend died after his weekly drowning session in it.

There he spent a lot of time on the streets. He took a series of poverty line jobs from cleaners to delivery boy however as his mental outburst got worse as he grew up, he found himself unable to retain a job. He soon turned to criminal activity, becoming a street boxer before being picked up by a local gang lord to act as a brute man. On his 34th birthday he beat his mother to death in a fit of rage, causing him to run away and meditate on his sins and his issues. He now travels the town, practicing a philosophy of a minor Monk group called: Boiling Cup.

Sorry to leave you guys mingling without me. I'll give you all my attention tomorrow.

A mage, peasant, and necromancer (Fantasy RP)

The necromancer on the contingency that she doesn't have to be promiscuous - if she has to be then I'll pick the quiet peasant. If that works. xD

@DeadlyEssence

I picked the quiet peasant, however. I didn't say it here. So, it's only fair it's up for grabs. I'll take necromancer although I might have the same condition as deadly.

The Cost of Magic( closed)

Interested. Very interested.

@ravenDivinity

Hey. We got one. That's a pretty good sign. Hugh Howard was a 1 and look how well he did. It's smooth sailing here on out. Thanks by the way. Feel free to PM if you want to explore any of this.