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10 mos ago
Current Happy Chinese New Year, RPGuild!


Eat. Sleep. Conquer. Repeat.

If there was ever a motto to follow, that's the one I believe everyone should follow.

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- script style format like the TV show?
- no big bad guy. dark wizards are like the equivalent of serial killers.
- tv show being filmed live to educate modern society about the dangers that the Wiz-Cops face on a daily basis.

- wand licenses, broom licenses,
- potions and talisman and rare magical parts trafficking
- magical creatures
- drug stings
- voodoo doll assaults
Can I do a paraplegic boxer?

Ssorry, but I'm already cold-blooded. I prefer to kill in hot blood.

I'm expecting to do a revision of this again but this is the basic concept I have in mind for now. Thinking I'll revise a few things after feedback.













The Venataan Coalition

Ssorry, but I'm already cold-blooded. I prefer to kill in hot blood.

First of all, wrong forum to post it in.

Second of all, bad RPs are subjective and relative to our standards. Is an RP bad because of a good concept but not enough players or a horrible concept but having a large player base?

Third of all, since it’s an 1x1, you can probably negotiate and state that you don’t like their character. Try to ask them to tone it done or something. Or dump them. Who cares?It’s an RP, mate. It’s not like they’re gonna stalk you to your house for revenge and dump your carcass in a river.

Fourth and this is my personal opinion, if you’re going into RPs specifically to get romance booty, maybe your priorities should be crafting an interesting storyline to supplement that romance?
Yo, where ma bois Hephasteus, Hestia, Nemesis and Nike at?
A @The Bork Lazer and @Moskau Spieluhr Collaboration

Dakota City Chronicles: Static and The Vixen

Special Issue #1: Loose Change

location:19th crowley, washington avenue, dakota city, michigan

time: 22:45

“ Stop me if you’ve heard this before. Shouldn’t I be more responsible for myself by doing my homework and not going out fighting crime while buying groceries at your store? Instead of asking that question, how about I ask you several? Do you have to drag shoplifters along with you to the police station?” His right wrist jangles as he tugs on a dozing criminal, lazing on the floor. “ His name’s - uh - Mike by the way but that’s beside the point. The point is, Do you fight murderous superpowered Bang Babies every week? Do you have to brew a thermos of coffee every night to stay asleep on your patrols? Have you ever rescued a box of puppies from being frozen out in the middle of Dakota City winter? ” He lifts up his mangled sleeve for emphasis. “ You haven’t. And I respect that, mister, because you have a much more harder job than me. I’m tired but you’re even more tired. You’re in a late-night shift. It’s eleven pm. You think I’m just some dumb punk in a costume harassing you for a discount. All we could use right now in Dakota is a little less tired. So, whaddya say we forgive the fact I don’t have 75 cents on hand for this carton of eggs and we do a ‘ I owe you a solid, you owe me a solid’ thing right now.” Virgil flashed a smile along with a thumbs up. “ Sounds good?”

“ Sir, this is a Seven-Eleven.” The shopkeeper kept a thin lip of patience throughout his entire rant. “ Please give the required amount or I will be forced to eject you from the store.”

Virgil signed. He didn’t like November nights in Dakota. The chills came in with a vengeance, riding on the coat-tails of autumn’s truce between summer’s baleful heat and winter’s cold fury. He swore that a meta or a Bang Baby somewhere was somehow responsible for the dropping temperatures that made his breath fog up into a peaky mist. Somehow, it affected the people as well. They became more moodier, more disagreeable, more grouchy like this gentleman in front of him here.

So, screw him if he expected just a little more gratitude from his fellow Dakotans, right?”

The shoplifter at his feet decided now was the best time to wake up.

“ Yoooo, man - “ Mike coughed. “ Can….get some hangover food, man? You got any refried beans on hand-”

“ Now is not a good time, Mike.” Virgil chided him softly. “ We’ll go there after I get my carton of eggs.”

He then paused. Of course. He was an idiot. Sharon did always told him that he was blind as a bat when it came to obvious solutions. He leaned down and gently forced Mike’s inebriated face to look at him.
“ Uh, Mike, sorry about this but I need cash from you. 75 cents, specifically. ” The drunk criminal glanced at him with suspicion. “ Look. If you do this, I’ll buy you a capuccino.” Mike raised his eyebrows even further. “ And a sandwich from Delmar’s.”

“ Well…” The robber shrugged apologetically as he slid something out from his grimy pockets into Virgil’s hands. “ Sorry but this is all I had on hand. I don’t even know the PIN code….”

His face reflected off the Mastercard’s moulded plastic lettering, staring back at him like it was mocking him. The shopkeeper chose that moment to speak out.

“ The distribution of electronic payment has not been offered to this Seven-Eleven outlet due to - “

The flourescent lights overhead crackled and the corporate babbling stopped. Finally. Virgil was relieved for a moment for his lack of emotional control.

“ Sir, be aware, that according to Seven-Eleven’s policy on metahuman damages, damage to any 7-11 property will be fined - “

“ Zip it!” Virgil hissed out loud. He only got a deep frown from the shopkeeper as he returned back to mussing over the cash register. Virgil paced around the shop, Mike’s head following him like a sports fan at a tennis rally. He could stop Talon, Aquamaria, Kangorr, Armadillo and Shocker but…..He stared at the metallic name-tag on the shopkeepers lape...Ashwin just had to be his greatest enemy?

“ Sir-” The shopkeeper tersely spoke out again in his bored tone. “ Please stop pacing around. You are disturbing the other customers.”

The sliding doors to the 7-11 opened with a sudden welcoming *pling* and Mari strode into the convenience store with a grin on her face. Coffee time was her favorite time of the day. She’d been camped outside of the non-descript bank for hours. She was cold. She was tired. But worst of all she was bored. Bank robberies were not as fun as Hollywood movies had suggested. The planning phase was a great disappointment and she had long since tired of Nancy’s banter. His cryptic comments about fortuitous meetings had gotten old and she wasn’t sure what a spider wanted with a Boston creme donut at least three times his size.

Nodding towards the store clerk, she made a beeline towards the filthy looking coffee pot that stood sadly on a counter that had seen far better days and fewer layers of accumulated grease. Grabbing an empty paper cup, she flipped the lever, and listened to the welcome sound of coffee hitting paper.

Crossing her arms as she waited for her coffee to cool, Mari turned towards the costumed figure pacing in front of the cashier and his tied up victim. She did her best to look bored. The scarf wrapped around her face worked as well as any mask and her hoodie hid the rest of her features.

“Yo, fuck face, what’s up with the suit and your tied up friend? Did I miss the comic convention?”

It felt like a slap to his face. Fuckface? All thoughts of pestering the cashier some more disappeared as his face swiveled to the right towards whoever it was that called him out.

“ Okay, who the hell called me - “ His right hand began to burn with voltage before he saw the cup of coffee next to the person who’d spoken to him. She was wrapped in thick clothing, hooded with her mouth hidden by a scarf. Not a thief. Hopefully. He pushed down the instinct to fight as the white glow in his hand receded back.

His eyes were squinted in disbelief behind his polarized visor. “ First of all, ComicFest 2019 is actually 3 months away from now. Second - “ He pointed towards the stylised lightning bolt on his black t-shirt. “ have you been living underneath a rock by any chance? I’m Static. The Kilowatt Kid? The Bang Baby hero? Ring any bells?”

“ Actually - “ Mike piped up. “ - to be fair to the lady, I’ve only heard ‘bout you today after you stopped me from crackin’ open that ATM machine - YOOWCH!”

The amateur thief yelped in pain as a minute bolt skipped from Virgil’s pinky to his butt. Virgil stared pointedly at him. “ If you keep quiet for the next hour, I’ll buy you two sandwiches.”

“ Pastrami with pickles.”

“ Deal.” Virgil turned back to her. “ Third, he’s not my friend.” He then looked longingly at the cup of steaming coffee on the counter before rubbing the dark circles in his eye. It was getting late. Too late. “ Look, miss. I’ve had a really long day. All I want is 75 cents so I can get my carton of eggs and go home.”

“Yeah, and I’m Wonderwoman,” Mari said with a roll of her eyes. The kid couldn’t be Static. Static was supposed to be 6’7’’. He was supposed to have an 8-pack, he was supposed to be shredded. Nancy said that he rode a cloud like some modern day Zeus and threw lightning bolts at his enemies. This bargain bin knock-off was disappointing and Mari didn’t buy it. Sparky just seemed like a kid.

Narrowing her eyes, she cast a quick glance towards the 7-11 clerk. He didn’t look like he was afraid. There didn’t seem to be any danger. The clerk seemed bored. Maybe the costumed kid wasn’t telling the truth, but he wasn’t a robber. He wasn’t a threat. He was just annoying. The stellar quip that Mari had primed was interrupted by the sight of her cheerful spider companion hanging above the cash register. Mari wasn’t sure how or when Nancy had entered the 7-11, but she was glad he was quiet for once. The spider flashed a terrifying, impossible smile as he gestured wildly towards the costumed punk with one of his eight legs.

Hearts and minds. Mari thought with an irritated sigh as she caught on to the scheme. If the dude was Static, she’d have to make friends, and she’d have to play nice. Nancy had told her that they needed him. They needed the Kilowatt Kid. He hadn’t said why. But she trusted Nancy. He was the spider with a plan.

Grabbing her coffee, Mari stepped up to the counter, “Well, Sparky, it’s your lucky day. I’m going to give you a whole dollar.”

Nodding towards the pair of comedians, Mari reached into the pocket of her hoodie. She pulled out her wallet and watched as the pistol she had stolen fell onto the floor with a plastic thud. The words “Dakota City Police Department” were emblazoned on the barrel.

“Oh, fuck. I can explain...Let’s just be cool about this,” Mari said holding both her hands up in the international sign of the Fonz as she shifted between the costumed kid and the clerk. She watched the 7-11 clerk inch closer to the silent alarm that she knew was hidden beneath the counter. Choosing her battle, she pointed a menacing finger at the clerk, “Ashwin, I swear to God, if you press that button I will cut you.”

“ Ma’am,” The clerk’s voice was considerably more quiet now. “ 7-11 does not allow customers with handheld firearms to be allowed within store vicinity…..”

Ashwin’s voice became lost amidst the buzzing in his brain. It looked like a prank gone wrong. The moment the pistol clattered on the floor, the fluorescent light above the both of them flickered erratically as his breathing became strained. His forearm tingled. Just phantom shock. He hadn’t even noticed that his left arm had raised out towards Mari reflexively, electricity dripping off it like a leaking faucet. It took seemingly an eternity for him to raise his arm down, his mind providing excuses but his body paralysed in paranoia.

His crackling palm was still raised towards her as he kneeled down to pick up the pistol, eyes trained on her. Gripping it brings back memories of Paris Island, of pressing a barrel against Ivan Evan’s cheeks, of revenge. He pushes them down and focuses on the present. The now. The initials on the gun were DCPD. His teeth chattered as he breathed in, slowly breaking into a nervous smile.

“ Cool,” he chuckled. “ I think I could use some of that no-”

Virgil paused as something glowed behind the woman's shoulder. A dim orange. Had tomorrow come already or was it just hallucinations from his fatigue? The orange was becoming brighter. No, it was moving. He smelt the air.


It wasn't sunlight. It was a sedan on fire heading straight for the store.

Without thinking, he pushed the woman down, forcing her behind him and ripping the aluminium shelves out of the wall to form a barrier, a wall, crumpling the frames apart to mesh into one -

It was too late. The mass of flaming metal shattered the windows into mist and rammed into his arms. Something broke. His joints popped and his bones buckled and bent. He wasn’t sure how his body had broke but he didn’t want to find out. His back slammed against the wall and sent him spiraling into unconsciousness, the sensation of his singed skin fading.



- SCP Foundation
- Toy Story
- Pacific Rim
- Worm
- Warhammer 40k

- CYBERPUNK - rural cyberpunk, cyberpunk but it's in South East Asia,
- URBAN FANTASY - Live PD except with wizards fighting the dark forces of illegal potions trafficking, broom speeding violations and domestic gnome violence (wiz cops, wiz cops, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you?), fairy-tales exist and have entered the modern world of 1950s noir New Orleans in an enclave (yeah, I know I'm stealing from Once Upon a Time and Wolf Among Us. What? You're gonna sue me?),
- SUPERHEROnope, nope, nope, not having none of that. Nope, done with that. Don't need any more of that on this site.
Okay, we need some more wholesome stuff in here, stat.

@Lord Wraith, thank you for creating my first group roleplays that I actually enjoyed on this site. It allowed me to rediscover my love for the superhero genre and the communities that were created as a result of these roleplays are something that I’ve always cherished. Without you, I would never have the gall to create Static or Artistonancer.

@Opposition, it’s a damn shame you aren’t creating more roleplays because your roleplays are exceptional in the amount of effort and worldbuilding you place into them. You allowed me to create OverDriver and reinstilled my faith that a good cyberpunk RP could be created on this site, even if it’s a dead genre.

Last but not least, thank you to every player of Walmageddon for the enjoyment you've given me over the past month. I hope that this rp continues well forth in the future (lol, just kidding. This rp is probably gonna crash and burn no matter what happens, amirite?)

@ClocktowerEchos - I am honoured to continue your legacy on this site. I am severely saddened that Wal-World Dead Stock tragically ended up being closed on its intro posts. You introduced the concept of a setting like Walmageddon to RPG first and I can’t bear mysef to not mention that. You offer great substantial worldbuilding along with advice about your prior experiences of running this RP.

@AmpharosBoy - You are of great service to the RP and one of the first people to express interest in this concept as a whole. Blothmerche is a highly fun character that I enjoy watching and you offer substantial content in worldbuilding as well.

@RevetheDreamer - Your character drawings are amazing and I would greatly appreciate if you could give me permission for you to do an artistic commission of the entire cast, paid, of course.

@Mercenary Lord - You offer great critique to how the system of the world functions and you are the most critical of all the players in the RP. People need to be more critical of the world as you do. You have an amazing eye for stuffing lots of detail into short, concise posts.

Being a GM isn’t fun but you made my experience of being a GM great. You have restored my self-confidence after my disastrous few attempts in trying. Thank you.


Shit. I forgot to mention one person, didn’t I?

@Moskau Spieluhr, goddamn, what has it been? Seven months since you joined this site? You are perhaps the most underrated roleplayer I've ever encountered on this site. I’m not over-embellishing. I know we’ve been overly both self-depreciating in our DMs but you are genuinely a great roleplayer and a writer. The only problem with you is that you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re not the best, or the most talented. No one is. Everyone here on this forum specializes in something. If everyone was good at everything, roleplaying would get boring. However, I have to admit that you can write better than me. Your worst beats my best by a long shot.

It’s your characterisation and ability to write out character interactions that makes you stand out from the crowd. It’s where you excel.Your characters possess an amazing amount of both originality and creativity that is unparalleled in any other roleplayer, save for a few that I know. You have a natural command of your character’s dialogue, a fatal flaw for most roleplayers on this site. Unlike most roleplayers, you’re able to execute the concept of her character on a regular basis instead of making it a self insert. Look at Vixen, look at Anansi, look at Z-Grip, look at Satra, look at Cora, look at Spellbound. Every character is a complete well-crafted dish with their own unique voice. Moreover, you’re a fun roleplayer and your writing is a joy to read. Any GM should be glad to have you as a player in their roleplay.

Moreover, you're an amazing person to talk, chat, share memes and discuss ideas with. After all, you're the one who first encouraged me to make a roleplay of an idea as absurd as Walmageddon. Oh, and thank god you're a fan of cyberpunk or otherwise I would be screaming silently in my sleep

So, yeah, how do I say this in any other way other than: keep doing what you're doing and uh, thanks for putting up for hours of me pestering and messaging you on Discord. You're a great contributor to every RP you're in, a great person to write with and most of all, a great friend.

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