Current
Lots of guests coming and going in the next few weeks. I apologize in advance if I lag in posting
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5 yrs ago
Traveling for a week, and may not keep up with RPs. Thank you for your patience.
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5 yrs ago
Been busy and scatterbrained this week, and behind on RPs. Please excuse my delay in posting.
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7 yrs ago
Got back from a two-week vacation overseas. Give me some time to catch up with RPs. Thank you for your patience!
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7 yrs ago
I'll be going on a two week vacation starting tomorrow and don't know how often I'll have Internet access. Thank you for your patience. I'll try to be more regular when I get back.
As Eileen worked on her research, a small mechanical locust approached her and began speaking, "There's a fire in the city."
"Low priority, let the fire department handle it," Eileen said, waving Omniac's proxy away.
"But there are several vigilantes on the scene...including Professor Devil. In fact, he's calling you right now."
"What?! I mean, with his powers I suppose...but it's beneath him...pick it up!"
The locust switched channels and connected the line for Eileen. "Professor Devil? H-Hi! An honor! Umm...what's up...?"
Fifteen minutes later found Dr. Fang aboard a police chopper, hovering over the scene of the fire. She had received enough information to surmise that this was no accident, nor a simple arson, and she had a high enough of a position that she could requisition the use of police vehicles if she was carrying out a government investigation. With no place for the helicopter to land, Eileen simply opened the massive briefcase she had brought with her as a swarm of mechanical locusts flooded out of it. Fortunately, due to the nature of helicopter blades, to maintain flight, air was pushed down, so the expensive little machines didn't get sucked up into the blades and destroyed. With the case thus lightened, Eileen strapped it awkwardly to her backpack, which she wore over her lab coat and proceeded to climb down a rope ladder. Once on the ground, she dropped the case and took off her backpack in order to pull out a laptop that was synced to the swarm of robotic locusts. She set them to perform wide-spectrum sweeps of the area to locate any clues of the perpetrator. As she was doing this, she meandered over to Professor Devil's side.
Tessa looked up from the vice that she had clamped to the bar table. Within the grip of the vice was a magic crystal, delicately filigreed with precious metals, embedded with rare gems, and engraved with runic symbols. Her hands held an assortment of tools. She had been quite busy before the depressing topic of her party mates brought her out of her focus. She slid the magnifying glass setup away from her face to look at Graves. Death was on everyone's mind, but after the initial panic that Tessa had experienced in the dungeon, a cathartic, nihilistic sense of calm had descended upon her.
"'What do we do next?', you ask. We continue to make a killing, that's what we do. People have been so afraid, that demand for defensive enchantments have far exceeded supply. Prices are skyrocketing. Business has never been this good. By the time this bug is patched out, we'll be filthy rich." Perhaps seeing a man in the throes of death was disconcerting for some, but for Tessa, it had had the opposite affect. In real life, she had always felt a sense of dysphoria and disassociation from her body, even more so in the digital realm. But actually seeing someone die made her realize that it was the clinging to life that was the source of terror and pain, that after a swift and maddening explosion of suffering, all that followed death was calm and stillness. Death was inevitable and inescapable, but the fear of it was so easy to exploit. And that was what Tessa had been doing since.
"If you're getting restless, we could try to grind a low-level dungeon. Most people are so scared that we probably won't find much competition. We can farm some low-tier materials, because people will still pay out of the nose, even for C-class enchantments." Regardless of his answer, he could tell he wanted to go after Rael, so she also got up and began packing up her enchanting station.
The explosion, the smoke, the roar, and the texts were, quite frankly, overwhelming for Mari. She wanted to settle into her dorm room. She wanted to sit in a class, read from textbooks, turn in assignments, and take exams. Bad teachers gave tests before teaching. Hadn't their 'heroic mettle' already been evaluated in the entrance exam? It was plenty clear that many of the students had misguided concepts of 'what a hero is' or 'how a hero should behave', herself included. So why continue to run the students through these flash-bang, off-the-cuff exercises that were essentially massive 'trick questions'? Education was inculcating the ability to run through a specific process of thinking that a student could then use to arrive at desired conclusions and methods of action. Education was not relying on a students inherent 'instinct' or preconceived notions based on their limited perspective and specific upbringing. Education was supposed to normalize and hammer out errors in thinking, not amplify them. At this point, nobody truly knew what they were doing or what they were supposed to do, and the ability to think through a crisis was not something hero students should be expected to inherently know how to deal with, it was something they were supposed to be taught. And teaching was something Mari had yet to see happen at this school. In the end, everyone would run off doing whatever they personally thought was best, and no one would be the wiser. But who would be to blame if someone made an error in judgment? Could this test really be considered fair? The way Mari saw it, the outcome of this 'test' no longer mattered. Pass or fail, no student could be blamed, whatever action they chose to make. If any student failed, Mari would have some words with the faculty. If there was any criticism or finger-wagging after the fact, if any student felt like a failure for their performance in this test, Mari would be there for them to reassure them that it's the teachers who are wrong. Mari had always been a model student as far as her grades went, but that was because she had understood conventional education, and her teachers had delivered on that front, so she had reciprocated. Even if material had been difficult, she couldn't fault them for being unfair or for improperly preparing their students. Now the performance of the entire faculty was questionable, and she wouldn't stay silent.
Of course, there was also the other issue that was making her impatient to be done with this farce. The promise of a bed, a roof, and hot meals were so tantalizingly close. It would be weeks of regular laundry and showering before she could cleanse the shameful stench of destitution from herself. Weeks of sleeping in a soft bed before the persistent aches melted out of her body. She was sure some of her classmates could tell and thought less of her for it, no matter how much she attempted to hide it.
As these thoughts circulate in her mind, her teeth and fists clench as her forward marched ceased due to indecision. But as Yasu and Kai approach, she is brought out of her introspection. Turning to them, she releases the built up tension, and even offers them a weak smile, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie in that they were all being equally dicked by the faculty. She was also somewhat relieved that the teachers at least explicitly stated that cooperation would not harm their evaluation, removing the fear of sabotage from earlier. As she listened to Yasu's proposed ideas, she nodded along, because what she had said made sense, but also because Mari didn't really have any better ideas herself. She did, however add a bit, saying, "Although from the looks of it, there are multiple fires, maybe three, judging by the plumes of smoke. I think the smaller fires should be dealt with first so that all effort can then be used to concentrate on the inferno. Concentrating on the big one first allows the smaller ones to potentially get out of control. And I'm sure that letting a dumm yget burned is probably really bad, so instead of saving all the dummies, we should just prioritize saving any dummies that are under immediate threat from the fires. Since I don't think any of us is ideal for handling fires, we should probably focus on clearing dummies out of the way of the fires, and fulfilling any requests the fire teams have for us. It seems Yakkaimori will be leading that front. I think that for now, we should still stick to our designated white path and do what we can there. Also, I can't run at top speed, not with the fires drying out the plant material. I shouldn't add any more sparks to the situation."
Mari has an internal philosophical disagreement with Jigokuraku's methodology of education that spirals into an existential crisis. Mari agrees with Yasu's plan, adding in her own two cents.
The Faith of the Seven, official religion of Westeros since the coming of the Andals. At odds with the Faith of the Old Gods, the Faith of the Drowned God, and the Faith of R'hllor.
Head of Faith
The High Septon
Seat
Primary: King's Landing (The Great Sept of Daenerys) Secondary: Oldtown
Demesne
The faith permeates all of Westeros
Recent History
During the War of the Five Kings, several events destabilized the Faith considerably: the untimely death of several High Septons, general discontent among the population, the uprising of The Sparrows, an orthodox, ascetic, reformist, fundamentalist grassroots movement with the Faith, the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor with wildfire by the Mad Usurper Cersei Lannister, and the coming of The Long Night with abominations in the form of the undying, led by the Night King, a pagan deity of some sort. When the dust had settled, tomes upon tomes of religious literature and juristic rulings had been lost, except those that happened to have copies in Oldtown. The hierarchical infrastructure was in shambles, though a High Septon was hastily chosen from what remained of the clergy to create some semblance of order and to legitimize Queen Daenerys' coronation. Still, from the ashes came an opportunity to revitalize the Faith and bring it away from the machinations of political corruption that had crippled it. Borrowing from the short-lived Sparrow movement, the Faith stepped away from opulence, and practiced more closely the humility it preached. However, a new Great Sept was built to replace the Great Sept of Baelor. With the revelation of the undying and the Night King, beings mentioned in the myths and legends of the Faith of the Old Gods, The Faith of The Seven had to re-evaluate it's relationships with other faiths and its long-held position of exclusivity with respect to spiritual truth.
Now the Great Sept of Daenerys is complete, the Faith is alive with reinterpretations of old texts, and the Septs are more welcoming and more tolerant than ever. But how long until its most celebrated members find their way into the means of power, or until the means of power find them?
The current High Septon is a man burdened with the responsibility of continuing the work that was left to him, that of rebuilding the Faith and reinterpreting its values. He is wary of power and how it has poisoned the Faith in the path, and seeks to maintain the delicate peace. Can he wield the religion to keep the realm together when the kingdoms once again begin to tear at the seams? How much will his faith be compromised in the process? Will creating peace with believers of other faiths force him to blaspheme and jeopardize the foundation of his own beliefs? Dare he play the game? The road to the Seven Hells is paved with good intentions...
Character Information
Identity
The High Septon
Age
67
Role
High Septon, the Father of the Faithful, the voice of the new gods on earth
Characterization
Short, stout, and balding, The High Septon speaks with a gentle gravity. His words can cut deep, but are dulled with the anesthesia of compassion, often moving listeners to tears, but never to rage. He is surprisingly perceptive for a doddering old man, and he maintains a humble outward aspect in manner and in dress, wearing the bare minimum of what is required to denote his station. Many of his views come off as quite unorthodox, especially his tolerance of the other faiths, and his hypothesis that all religions share a common origin, or at least unknowingly refer to the same divinities. yet because of this, he has a knack for defusing tense situations, especially among smallfolk, dazzling them sophistry and making them ponder their actions instead of jumping to violence. He abhors corruption and has tried his best to keep the Faith from sinking into opulence. This makes some question his loyalty and distrust him, since he cannot be bought. Others see his tolerance as a lack of a firm foundation in faith.
Attributes & Talents
The High Septon is a talented public speaker and philosophical negotiator. Due to his preference for simplicity, austerity, and practicing acts of physical and mental discipline such as fasting and occasional sleep deprivation, his health is not dreadfully deteriorated for someone his age. He is sharp and perceptive, showing uncanny emotional empathy.
Immediate Family
None.
Personal Relations
None.
Okay, so I have this more or less finished, but I would like to brainstorm House relations and personal relations. Which houses are particularly close to the Faith? Which houses are particularly distant? Even though The High Septon is from smallfolk stock, would a sibling of his perhaps be in the employ of one of the great houses?
I also wanted to point out that I do have a hard time keeping up with the Discord, so I would prefer it if we interacted in here, or if you insist on contacting me through Discord, DM me or @ me. Thanks!
Hyouka peered out the window, noticing the bubbling underneath the shoddy tinting job her dad had installed. Still, she appreciated that he had done so, as it made riding in the back of his car safer, especially as they passed by the front gate of U.A. and the angry anti-quirk mob that stood in front. Despite the relative obscurity, Hyouka pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head to hide her bright-red hair and antennae.
"Hey baby, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can turn this car back and we can just forget about the whole thing. Maybe we can come back in a few years, when the Quirk Rights Movement has gotten off the ground a bit more," Hyouka's father said while still continuing to drive slowly, her mother turning around to offer a reassuring smile.
"N-no, it's fine. We already agreed, Quirk Rights and Hero Work have to happen side by side. 'The Quirked will protect the Quirkless, and the Quirkless will protect the Quirked.' That's our motto, right?" Hyouka smiled back at her parents. Since she was born, they've been trying their best to establish a grassroots movement to make society livable for their daughter and those like her. It was an effort Hyouka could never repay, but it was time for her to start doing her part. Besides, despite the visible backlash from society, this was a wonderful opportunity to go to a school surrounded by Quirked classmates and Quirked teachers. An opportunity to explore her obsession and childhood dream of heroism, to become the hero she'd always wanted to be. And what kind of hero shied away just because there was an angry mob in front of their school?
Thanks to the tinting on the windows, the car quietly passed by the front without incident and reached the side entrance. Her parents were too scared for her safety not to deliver her to the school themselves, afraid that her obviously mutant appearance would single her out for violence. Given Japan's heavy corporate business environment, her dad had begged to take this work day off just so he could do this. In a way, they were sending her to a prison, as it was unlikely that the students would be allowed off the campus grounds, for their own safety, of course. The car stopped, and Mrs. Ebisugawa stepped out, looking to the sides for angry anti-quirk individuals. Seeing that the coast was clear, she let Hyouka come out, followed by Mr. Ebisugawa who shot off the engine. There was a moment of silence as a sudden, wordless awkwardness descended on the trio. Hyouka's father broke the silence, saying, "Good luck in there, Red Ranger. We'll visit whenever we can."
"Yeah! I-I'll make you proud!" Hyouka replied, already hiccuping from sadness. Tears welled at her eyes, while a light froth formed at her mouth, a symptom of her shrimp-like nature.
"We already are, Ebi-fry," Hyouka's mother said, pulling the other two into a hug. She knelt down and pulled out a handkerchief. Despite crying herself, Hyouka's mother wiped away Hyouka's tears and offered the following advice, "Don't cry. You want to make a good example for your hero friends, right? And a hero..."
"...always smiles. No matter what." Hyouka finished the sentence, and attempted to smile through her hiccups, while her mom wipes her tears and the froth coming from her mouth.
"G-go get 'em, Tiger Shrimp," her dad says encouragingly. Hyouka nods with determination, wipes away the last of her tears clumsily on her sleeve, and walks towards the school.
The short walk from the car to the entrance gave Hyouka enough time to steel herself to her new environment, and to let the excitement wash away her sadness. Seeing the group of adults who very clearly looked like vigilantes-turned-teachers, Hyouka bowed deeply, stood up straight and declared, "Ebisugawa Hyouka!...has ARRIVED!" She then struck a pose, which ultimately just ended up looking like she was dabbing. Straightening up, she looked around for other hero students, but just saw a group of quirkless adolescents standing around. Coming to a realization, Hyouka slammed her fist into her open palm, at least, she would if she could form a fist and palm. Instead she just made a *klack* sound as she determined that these were members of the quirkless, non-hero class come to welcome the hero class. "I must be the first hero student here," Hyouka thought to herself. She suddenly bowed to them as well, her antennae whipping around and slapping the ground, and declared, "Thank you for coming out to show support for the hero class! Thank you for believing in a peaceful coexistence between the Quirked and Quirkless. Those of us with quirks vow to protect you!"
Hyouka has a tearful farewell with her parents, and mistakes the non-mutant students as quirkless.
"Loguetown, huh? Funny that..." Handel shot a look at Arafael, punctuating the coincidence that both the Marine Lieutenant and Kurt wanted to go to the same place. "Y'see, my captain's a bit of a free spirit, I don't even know where we're heading after this. But any self-respecting pirate's gotta go to the Grand Line at some point, and I think we're up to the task. So hop aboard, Kurt. You can call me Commander Hallelujah."
The smoke billowing up in the distance and the waves of warm air coming from the island didn't bode well. Was this the living dragon's fire? And did he really join the crew on a whim? She really should have given someone a den den mushi before they disembarked. "Hey kid," Handel tossed Kurt a small den den mushi she had in one of her many coat pockets. "A smart crew is a living crew, and a smart crew always stays in communication; a lesson I'm learning the hard way right now." She stared off at the pillar of smoke with a worried expression. At this point all she could do was trust in the strengths of her comrades and hope for the best. She couldn't leave the ship what with her gambit with Arafael still tense and unresolved.
"Do you know what Alraune nectar does to humans, especially men?" Both sisters cried out in alarm at Neil, and pushed themselves over using their vines, all four hands trying to grab at Neil's clothing to disrobe him. Having been raised among humans, and by parents who understood their nature, Vivian and Sylvia were taught the potency of their nectar and were taught to never let it get on humans, especially boys, except in extremely small quantities, in which it could be used for medicinal and dietary purposes. They were raised, for the most part, with human concepts of decency and didn't want any shameful or humiliating acts to occur based on the seductive intoxication of their nectar, so they frantically tried to prevent the aphrodisiac effects of taking hold of Neil. Suddenly, Vivian got an idea, "Morgan! You know what my nectar does, right? Help me undress Neil!"
Is Professor Devil going to show up at the scene of the fire? I'm just asking since I haven't contributed, and am thinking of potential ways to get Dr. Fang involved.
Gerlando
Verjil
Iamme
Lemons
OwO
Nyahahameha
Alby47
Izurich
Yankee
nightmare medx
