ScreenAcne

What Are You Listening To?

Deus Duet my digital dorritos. So hop on in and take a swing (18^)reworked

A thread hasn't been this bumpy since the time space continioum, motherfucking, got the boils.

Shadow Smiles

Hider

Name: n/a
Code Name: The Servant
Subject Number: 005

Age:Initial health inspection shown he is to be in early 30's.

Human Appearance:


[I'm too tired to write an appearence. So my guy is now Murray out of the odd couple]

height: 5.9

Weight: 70 kg.

Psychological Profile:

by head psychologist: Sheela Shane

Subject shows innate acceptance and awareness of his nature as a miasma infected, furthermore, he shows a enigmatic understanding of his supposed "role". Most of his answers are vague and confused, quickly dipping into mysticism. Deep emotions of dread, anxiety, and fear about the absolute nature of his infection are apparent but...he has accepted that he is sick, perhaps terminally so and even has been recorded saying "if you need to kill me. I forgive you. Ok, whoever does it. Don't stay awake late at night bullying yourself about it. If it got to that point, you did me a favor"

005's laid back attitude has made him able to cope with containment and inspection surprisingly well. Perhaps too well. His identity is almost entirely revolved around his infection and he flips in intense anxiety about serving it, hating, fearing it, and even trying to understand it. It is my suggestion that in order to keep 005's good nature up, don't let him socialize or develope an identity outside of it.

We are his masters now. We are the authority on Miasma, we are the only ones that could stop...whatever it is, and we're the only ones that could possible save him. No internet, no fashion or fun. Link it back to somehow to him and his infection.

Occupation: "Servant" subject dosen't respond to the police uniform we found him in. Claims no memory of joining any official force.

History:

report from Officer Ray Muni

Subject 005 was on a bus full of partially digested and dismembered people. Bodily harm was immense; missing 3 of his right fingers; several large gashes across his troso that will cause permanent scars; broken nose; internal brusining; 4 broken ribs; the back of his right foot gone; and his skin from his left knee up to his stomach peeled off. His police uniform was worn at this time. The bus was driving in Arizona but went off its course into the local woods, it continued to drive after the driver was..well...we are guessing by the muscus and blood dug into the chew off section of the drivers chair..completely devoured.

and it went off a cliff into a nearby lake. 005 managed to escape by using a torso to float him to shore. He was found and hospitalized sometime later. His wounds had mostly healed. No identity cards have been found in the bus, but we believe it simply may be lost in the wreckage and gore. No wallet, possibly lost when his pants were torn up. No, immediate family that he recalls.

[Investigation Ongoning]

Infection Status: Positive

Miasma Anomalies:

classified: authorized only

All infected innately recognize him as touched by miasma on sight.

They claim to feel that he is here to do something, but what that is they can never articulate. A innate but dismissive sense of importance is ascribed to the subject with a continued theme of no real cause. They simply "know" that harming him will not be a good idea but have been able to act against that. Intense feelings of regret, shame, and anger normally follow even doing minor damage that can inhibit him in any form, even if the aggressor normally expresses sadistic tendencies.

When annoying or aggitating a sentient infected they typically engage in social and sometimes physical bullying. This dosen't seem to produce the same effect, in fact, sentient members have expressed a sense of superiority, power and entitlement to do so.

Feral infected ignore 005, even when he is actively touching or doing things to do them. This tolerance of his presence goes far, and has allowed us to use him as a means of taking samples aggresssively but in case where damage is notable they react. This isn't a calming presence, if something would rouse up an feral they still do so but avoid attacking 005 in the process. The only case of him being attacked was after he was instructed to beat a feral with a pipe, which, after a minute of doing so it dragged him to the corner by his foot. Poked, prodded, pushed, and vomited on him along with slapping. He was dragged around the room again for another 3 minutes before stopping.

This seems to be a primitive display of the "putting in place" seen in sentient subjects.

Hypothesis: I suspect that, unlike the average infected, 005 has a specific intended function. What has given him it and how can a virus possibly assign a hairachy role to a person I don't know. but it has. 005 might seem friendly now but he has these anomalies for a reason and in my personal opinion we should exterminate him sooner rather than later, lest we find out what that reason is.

"I am the self destroying servant. The waiter with the poison, dutifully delivered with trepidetation to a master he fears and loves. He who will start the cycle and end it" ~ 005

Shadow Smiles

@Redward

I'm down for this deeper than a mole person with a love of emo music.

I'll motherfucking, model a sheet tonight.

Trying Something Different

Feel free to browze the brook breeze, my motherfucking, newcomer to the sentence summer.

Since you're still new to the forum queue I'd guess some things I'd spit would be:

Be ready that alot of RP dies. A lot of RP take more time to finish than a motherfucking, dodgey diet take to exit the plumbing system. As a result, a lot of people drop-including the GMs- wrapped with the wrath of real life, it makes survivng a bit tough....but, typically after an RP has survived consistent posting after a week or two. It tends to live long and you're assured a good time.

Don't worry about making a making or presenting a past, kindred. It's more chilly here than a hotdog from the sonic series. Just intiate a talk with who you feel the glow from and see where it goes. Eventually you'll get a cluster of characters to curate the calamities with.

Howdy!

Neat avatar.

Welcome to the world of words. It's pretty, motherfucking, chill. Don't worry about making big impressions or whatever. I find straight up chilling and spilling some speeches to folks that catch your interest is the best way to move about and meet folks.

I'm Back and you Don't remember me! ;D

Welcome back to the proton library.

If you want to casually RP or spit the, motherfucking, speech mark. Spree some screen scrawls at me sometime and I'll see if I can shuffle the sewage from my shit show to give it a go, or let loose the casual chat word flow.

Enter the Dungeon: The Halls of Greed

Shit, we got all the numbers we need. I'm going to start slamming this dungeon together. It might take a few days between handling my motherfucking, IRL DLC.

A sheet will be up soon.

Enter the Dungeon: The Halls of Greed

The idea

Enter the dungeon is an open dungeon adventure. It won't work on normal write off arena rules because it will pretty reduce any encounter with any enemy into a much longer experience than it needs to be. All characters will be stated and work on basic general RPG. A map is provided, along with very basic guide lines. Don't worry about having to read DnD manuals and shit, this will only function on the most BASIC of mechanics...of which, everyone will know from their application in most RP games anyway. If you don't, I'll explain it.

Each time a dungeon is open, it will state it's intended tier level-This will be working on Expanding Horizions Tier system- with tier 1 being a normal person and teir 5 or above be stuff of the level of arch demons and so on. This is open to multiversal characters, but some dungeons may be period limitations such as modern and up or fantasy/medieval only.

A limited number of spots will be open before it starts. After a time limit is reached or all spots are filled the dungeon becomes closed. These are designed to be fast acting and you will be expected to post multiple times a day. A dungeon should not take longer than a week to complete- and preferably should be shorter than that-

Enter the Dungeon: is a series that meant to bring new dungeons to crawl each time.

The Dungeon this time is....

The Halls of Greed

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truly, there is no greater greed than the man who could never have what he wanted

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I have a tale, a tale of a man who's heart knew a thirst that almost rivaled his mind. The tale of the man onced hailed as Edron Reev. Many of the things we enjoy today are of his work; the dismissal of misama theory and preventing the epidemic of a new plague. The discovery of why creatures have blood and beating hearts. He was a man, whom, seem to be in tune with life without effort or strain. Life, however, was never in tune with him.

Since his youth Edron fell deeply in love for a girl whom felt no persuasion to him. His fame as an adventuring hero nor his scientific achievements could woo her. His gold showered her like rain but she stayed mute to his propositiion. Years continued with this until she finally eloped into the night with her secret lover. She knew that while under Edron's gaze she could never be loved without ire.

Edron fell into a deep depression that neither his old friends, wealth or even the comradery of the king himself could lift. He rejected their advancements and despite their attempts to find him new love with many types of women, Edron grew cold and cruel. One by one, he drove all away in tears. Sadness turned to bitterness...and bitterness turned to anger. He studied until his eyes bled and his tower was so unclean flies could be seen haunting it at all times. He studied until he unerstood life and created Orlocob...the orb of life.

Minions, monsters of fraility and madness swarmed in great number from his tower, stealing everything and killing those that fought back. The guards, despite their valor and training were drowned in a sea of pus, puke and putrid minions. Every strap of gold that could be found was harvested. The town survivors fled and Edron was left, finally, pushing everyne as far away as he could. He still sit on that throne...acompanied by only what he controls. Unaging thanks to his knowledge and unloved. By anyone.

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Once your character is submitted I will assign stats on traditional RPG values: strength/dex/in ectr. This is for rolls/events. Your stats may not be entirely true to your character power level but that is a part of the balancing aspect.

This will be tier 1 to 3. AKA: normal person, has some power(like a common theif), is a standard wizard or something.

Time Period of characters accepted is fantasy and medieval.

Expect for your characters to possibly be balanced a little for this dungeon crawl only.

You can die in this.

Expected post size is 2 paragraphs roughly/ and under 6 standard - exceptions for acitvity apply-

Spots that will be open is 6

Wishful Thinking (A short RP)

We all know that RP have a habit of dying a few pages in. The reality is, most people don't have the time or the emotional resources to be constantly living under the obligation of posting in the same RP for months on end. I propose that instead of trying to make an RP that has to have at least 30 pages or more before it can be considered complete that we instead try a different type of RP.

Hit and run RP is a role play type that is intended to exist in a bubble and be done within ten pages or less. It's effectively a short story/novella. If the RP is succesful then a longer sequal can be made, if not, then the obligation of the RP is meant to be small so you won't have to post long. They provide a quick RP thirst quencher without an over bearing sense of obligation.

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It was rare, rarer than anything any community in this land could ever hope to find. They heard tales of such a thing, fantastical stories designed to bedazzle the romantic into distant ventures and for many decades it was considered to be fanciful thinking. But here it was, the most priceless thing in the world. Sitting in here, in the middle of the council table. The small council, the minature council, the unknown and ignored council of the tiny town of OakenFaith. A town who's only notable feature is it rope exporting, and it belong...legally...to the public council. They all peered down at it in disbelief.

A single, oil black lamp sat there and out of its snout was hovering a tiny smoky form with its arm crossed as it stared stoicly into nothing "I've never done wishes by committee before" it ushered in an echoing energy that hinted at amusement. A slight smirk slide across its face.

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Spots: 6

Character allowed: basically anything fantasy and around the medieval period. They must be a council member of Oakenfaith.

CS:

Hider

Name: try to keep it short. Although we still expect at least a paragraph of information.

Appearence:

Personality:

Other:

Posting expectation: 2 paragraphs and up. Below 6 standard-exepections for high activity apply-