The_written_John

Genesis: Tales of Sejan

BARTLEBY STERLING:

OUTSIDE OF MAPLESTEAD
-------------------------

"Meoowww!"

That's all that could be heard, the sound of a desperate meow across a wasteland of bodies both human and demon. Proceeding on his way through the end fires of the recent battles which has occurred, Bartleby grimaced and gagged as he looked around himself, the bloody corpses, the disgusting predicament, so many lives lost... Though that wasn't what he grimaced at. The sound of a high pitched... wet noise echoed behind him, the sly noble in retaliation suddenly cupped a hand over his mouth and nose, cocking his head slowly to the side, to view what could only be described as an oval fat furry boulder attached to his back like a backpack of made of gelatinous lard. With a look of terror, the man let out a whiny, tired voice at the figure.

"You didn't...!" exclaimed Bartleby, a look of horror and fear filled his eyes like looking into the face of a wide awake nightmare, his cupped hand quivering in fear as his eyes met the greedy blackness of his companion of blubber, a cat, as wide as his back and more fat than a cow in killing season, it let out a single sound, which caused the thin male to whimper and dry heave...

"Meow...!"

Letting out a muffled cry, the noble screamed into his cupped hand, which barely made a sound, shaking his head with a look of both tragedy and hatred, he suddenly uncupped his mouth and yelled, his voice cracking at the volume.

"WHY?! WHY CHOOSE NOW TO... FLATULATE?! WHY NOT JUST JUMP OFF MY BACK AND DO THAT AND NOT FORCE ME TO INHA-HURCK!"

Cupping his hands over his mouth and nose again, he crashed to his knees and felt the warm putrid taste of vomit climb up his throat like a torrent, but before it could fire from his mouth, he held his throat tightly with his free hand and practically choked himself to hold back the vomit induced by the scent of his disgusting cats... inhuman mannerisms. Swallowing the vomit back down, Bartleby instantaneously jumped back onto his feet, which caused his cat to meow with surprise and fall off, lucky for it, the blubber of fat cushions the fall, causing the roly-poly feline to bounce several times before conveniently landing on its thick paws, not even bothered by the sudden event, it carried on as if nothing had happened, proceeding to waddle practically behind the thief.

"I hate you." He whined regretfully. "With the burning of a thousand suns screaming in unison wanting to tear your flabby little fat cheeks off and sell them to a black market HATE!"

"Meow!" Retorted the obese lardaceous rock, unamused.

"Oh no, I hate you! You are the bane of my existence, you are the Bandit to my picnic, YOU ARE THE SYPHILIS OF MY PLANS!"

With a eccentric twirl, Bartleby swirled around and pointed at the fat cat with his finger, like a hero would point at a villain in a storybook, his finger shook with righteousness, his eyes burned with the flames of courage and his heart sung with pride as he unleashed his next few words.

"AND THUS... I AM PUTTING YOU... SHIN... FINALLY ON A DIET!"

(Yes!) He thought to himself. ("That will teach this fatass not to mess with me!")

Content and with a smug arrogant shit eating grin, Bartleby turned away and walked to maplestead, but the sound of the cat did not follow. His smug grin transformed into a quivering look of agony, and slowly but surely he turned... to view the cat had not moved a single inch since he spoke his last words. His shoulders sagged, his expression soured and his voice returned to a much more whiny tone.

"No... Nooo No no no no! No, you bastard...! You smelly fat unwashable bastard no...!"

"Meow..."

"NO! no no no no no! You obey me! I am your master! I am your king! I am your conduit, I am your BRIDGE!"

Yelling this, Bartleby stomped over dramatically and bent down to stare face to face with his walking pile of catfat, making sure their eyes locked, Bartleby continued his speech.

"And you know you would not be able to survive in this world without me, you fat, ugly, disgusting little shi-"

Interrupted by the sound of a vile wet and vomit like sound, Bartleby felt the feeling of a wet, vomit like scent hit his nose and face, as a ball of hair instinctfully shot out of the cars mouth like a bullet and planted firmly against his face with pinpoint accuracy, once again, Bartleby could not move at what just happened, His cat just spat a hairball into his face! His mouth agape, his eyes quivering, and a single word escaped him, voice cracking and high pitched, too shocked from the event.

"Whyeeee....!?"

"Meow" Once again retorted his cat, as it launched onto his back once more without question, and without even saying anything back, Bartleby just stood up, and walked, mouth still wide open, locked in a horrified expression, as if a basilisk had frozen him solid... This was going to be a blast...

--------------------

INSIDE MAPLESTEAD

--------------------

"Hear ye, hear ye. The palace has just received notification from our fair neighbour, Brindle, that the infestation of demons and monsters is affecting their town as well. The city officials have sent request for assistance, and we are sending our Heroes. Anyone else who wishes to join in our fair city's crusade against the evil that has fallen upon us may sign up at the palace entrance. The Heroes, both present and future, will leave at high noon tomorrow."

"Oh wonderful! Now we get to sign up and become full fledged heroes! You know what that means Shin?"

"Meow"

"That's right! Sit on our ass and let everyone lese do the work, and while everyones busy, we horde whatever we can find! Clothes, weapons-"

"Meow"

"E- no, you can't find food on corpses shin... Atleast not edible food! What we need for food is money! We find coin on the corpses of our foes! Allowing me to purchase food... Because food is very important!"

"Meow...!"

"FOR ME, NOT FOR YOU!"

Bartleby looked around him and laughed awkwardly as its residence stared at him as if he were insane yelling at the fat cat which rested on his back like a cross...

"Heheh..." -cough- "So... Be a good fatass and do what you do b- do what you always do, sit around, act cute and steal some nice rich shit from some gullible ponce, m'kay? M'kay!"

Bartleby and his cat approached the palace registration desk and quickly signed up, and afterwards it appeared they would have to go to the Tavern of heroes to get a briefing on the mission. With a nod of understanding, Bartleby proceeded on his way to the tavern and opened the doors, suddenly swinging the doors open, he stood in the doorway and posed like a nobleman would, making himself look rather rich and elegant.

"Goodevening my gentlemen... My name is Bartholomew Sterling! Your newest and most strongest team member yet... I don't know what you've been told, but I assure you, the man you see before you is a man who could end you in a moments notice! I am a shadow which dances through the... shadows. I am a knife that slips through the... kitchen? U- Uhm... AND I AM THE WARRIOR, WHO SHALL GUIDE YOU ALL T-"

*Poot...*

Bartleby would suddenly raise his hands up and throw them down in a hissy fit of hilarious frustration, before yelling out his next words at his cat in a rather silly and comedic fashion.

"FUCKING DAMMIT SHIN! STOP RUINING MY ZEN YOU LITTLE-"

-Like dejavu, the sound of a wet hairball smacked into the side of his face, as the whole bar was greeted to the sight of a morbidly obese cat literally spitting a hairball into its masters cheek, with a deathly silence filling the air, and what he would only expect to be laughter. And all he could retort with was one sentence... so low only his cat and vance could hear.

"I hate you shin... So... Much..."

Genesis: Tales of Sejan

I should really make a post... -cough-

I did bartlebys, I'l do Malaki's later when i'm not so tired.

Genesis: Tales of Sejan

Looking at the length of jerkchicken's posts like:

Genesis: Tales of Sejan

Bartleby Sterling

Name: Bartleby Sterling
Nicknames/aliases: None
Gender: Male
Birthday: 4/31
Age: 23
Class: Thief
Occupation: Thief/Conman
Species: Human
Homecity: Valesten
Homecity description: Valesten is a city located in the central region, it's a pretty generic medieval city.

Physical appearance: Bartleby is a 6 foot 1 tall male with Caucasian white skin, green eyes with dark bags under his eyes, ginger swept back hair and a soul patch beard. He supports a skinny, non athletic build and is missing a single front tooth. He has a high pitched and generally whiny tone of voice and walks very carefree, with a spring in his step.

Clothing style: Bartleby wears a set of jet black nobleman shoes, and a set of black scale skin leggings wrapped with jet black belts. (All the cool kids are doing it, in Bartleby's defense). Supporting a white frilled shirt, a blue and gold trimmed noblemans vest and a golden cravat and a jet black cloak. To top it all off, he wears an eccentric jet black musketeer styled hat, with a blue feather lodged at the side.

Personality: Bartleby is a very selfish and greedy individual, but isn't evil. He'll take whatever he can find and get, having a problem due to being a klepto. He finds himself always attempting to get the best offer out of a situation and will do what is necessary to save himself. Which usually involves running away. He is a coward and a liar, and will always try and bluff himself out of a situation. Bartleby is also a freeloader and a moocher but he generally desires the destruction of the red hand... He'll just try and offer... mortal support... if he can't help it! He can be kind, thoughtful and understanding, but when it comes to survival, he will either run off or demand safety.

Likes: Bartleby finds enjoyment in drinking, reading and enjoys "collecting" things from everywhere he goes, always having some sort of new item after each place he visits, he likes to call it a hobby. He also enjoys brothels, silence and not being bothered. He also enjoys getting free stuff!

Dislikes: the opposite of his likes... And shin, his furry feline companion.

Past history: Bartleby, who had no name at the time, but would later on gain one grew up like many humans within his hometown, as a child he was adopted and raised by a merchant family, though the memories were vague, the only way to describe it was that Bartleby was chosen to be raised merely to help whatever business his adopted parents owned, to help their little scheme flourish therefore as a young boy, Bartleby was raised to be a liar, to cheat and to steal, to use others for personal gain and to never betray his parents. As a child all this information was confusing for the young boy, as he was privately tutored by an arrogant and rough teacher, never even getting to know other children, he was forcibly and abusively banned from interacting with anyone his young age, and grew up in an isolated environment where only his parents could "teach" him about what mattered.

Growing up to learn history, merchandising skills, thievery and much more, along the lines of language and culture, but only to exploit, they had a child they could raise as their own little money maker, and had it not been for their "accidental" deaths, it would have continued that way. Fortunately however, when you become too much of an ass in life, life does you straight in it, and that happened smoothly by the time of Bartleby's eleventh birthday. Simply doing his parents chores and being taught the values of "merchandising", a group of armed men broke into the home and slew both his adoptive mother and father, causing the young child to fail to process what just happened, he never had any love for them, as they showed no love back, but the incident left him almost scarred, when the armed men approached him, it had come to his attention that his parents were in fact scum, nothing but dirty thieves and con artists who seeked to con every single individual out of their gold, and was a potential" threat". With nobody else to take care of him, the armed man agree'd to bring him to a much more "profitable business" And that's how Bartleby was first introduced to the life of the stereotypical criminal underground.

Raised by his new father, named Daniels, a short, black haired tanned male with a talent for crossbows, he acted more like a father than his older parents ever could. Raising him in the criminal underground, and with his thievery and merchandising skills, his new father Daniels raised him on how to lie properly, and taught him the use of his weapon, however Bartleby wasn't a very brave child, and always simply put on a brave face to fool the people around him, skipping any boring and trivial details, Bartleby continued how to use a crossbow, was taught how to lie and cheat and got taught how to trade much more effectively, and with his effort and his adopted father, the two were able to make quite a small fortune in the black market and with their thievery, selling and conning, the two were impressive at their jobs, and ran this for 9 years until Bartleby was twenty years old... and able to outsmart his own father... and meet an individual which would stay in his life for better or more realistically for worse for the rest of his life.

Shortly after the black market business had flourished, and after 9 long years, Bartleby became over such a long time very skilled with using the crossbow and a skillful negotiator, and with these skills and a business partner none the wiser, along with bartleby's own kleptomaniac tendencies which grew over the course of his life of crime, in one single day, and with his adoptive fathers back turned, he killed him... If he was brave and cruel enough, no instead he simple snagged a key to the groups savings and bolted as fast as his legs out carry him with the mass of funds, however it didn't take long for the black market to catch onto his scheme, as he fled with thick bags of gold and hot stolen items all within a giant rucksack, he barely escaped with his life, used his skills to acquire himself with the gold he bought a new outfit, to mask his old appearance and get himself under a new name, or alias.

His original name is unknown, and is known only as Bartleby Sterling, the original name given to him is not even known to himself, having never had a name giving to him by either his newer father of his adoptive parents back when he was a child. Hidden away within an abandoned basement at a corner street within his hometown, Bartleby investigated the contents of the stolen goods and money, enough money to keep him fed for years and within the stolen rucksack of valuables were gems, hot stolen gems fresh for selling and another items curiously popped itself out of the bag... a small, chubby looking Siamese kitten poked its little head out and stared cutely at Bartleby, the conman and merchant coward not knowing just how much agony the cat would bring to him, Bartleby decided to take the cat in, and raise it himself as the two quickly and using bartleby's talents, sold the hot merchandise for a thick profit before fleeing and escaping the criminal clutches of the underground, deciding to use his fine money to start a new life.

Now at age 23, Bartleby has been able to quickly amass his wealth, shown through his very eccentric and interesting attire to look as flashy as possible along with his fat, round cat sucking up every gold piece he had at the same time, now he is starting to feel the pressure of his fortune draining no help to his cat, his conning, thievery and merchant skills having only gotten him so far, if he didn't try and get better merchandise, he was going to start losing money and eventually go poor. Bartleby decided. "If perchance I pretended I was some bigshot hero, i could gain my riches saving the "day" while in reality i could just kick back and let everyone else do my work!" With this foolish plan, Bartleby would find himself going up against forces which were vastly superior in skill to him, in a mission he would refer to as his greatest and most biggest cock up.

Other info: his companion:

Bartleby has a beast of burden... in the shape of a roly poly shaped obese Siamese cat called Shin... This beast of burden can be summerised as a food engulfing black hole, and it nags people just as much as Bartleby does, a major bothering bother which bothers our bothersome Bartleby until it can't be bothered to bother anymore! A cat who's main desire is eating, and sleeping, and meowing, and repeating... Though it does make for some good laughs when it annoys Bartleby to the point of frustration, it is his only true friend though, and he loves shin dearly, and hates the every lasting guts out of the monstrous fatass at the same time... But what can ya' do?

Malaki

Name: Not known

Nickname: Malaki, Old man.

gender: Male

Birthday: 1/1

Age: 41 (looks about late 90's)

Class: Knight

Occupation: Unemployed

Species: Drakenheir

The Drakenheir are a race of anthropomorphic lizard like creatures with appearances that can be related to the look of dragons. Supporting horns, different colours and hard scales, they are both a durable and agile race, but lack in versatility in terms of magic along with their weakness to certain elements, Live up to an average 80 years and they each have their own single element of power, and whatever is the opposite of that element is their weakness.

For the old man, his power is the use of Ice, Making fire his elemental weakness.

Personal appearance:
Standing at an impressive 7 foot in height, this large male supports a muscular and well toned physique, a thick strong figure was graced to him before he was unfortunately hit with a certain disease of sorts, He retains his size and figure, but looks incredibly more meek, dark black sags hang under his eyes and his green scales remain broken and scratched beyond repair, some having broke off revealing a purple poisoned flesh within, only a few patches of scales remain a healthy green, all other scales became a slightly purplish, pale white, dead and lifeless. His old aged look makes his flesh appear rather sagged, and loose, like an old man would. One eye, his right is blind and unable to see, but is not covered, the other is visible as a golden reptilian iris, graced with still being able to see. He supports four small horn like protrusions out of his cheeks, two on either side, an inch thick, but are cracked and broken, having been longer in the past.

Overall he is a very physically mixed individual, his disease has left him retaining his power, but for every moment he remains in agony from this poison in his system, making him age faster, and bring him closer to his death.
Clothing style:

Malaki likes to remain fully clothed and armored so as to not show off his diseased and rotten draconic appearance to those around him. The first layer of his clothing consists of a set of simple white dirty tunic and some cow leather slacks, over these consists of a set of full body chain mail, on top of this, The Drakenheir supports a set of silver, white effective armor, trimmed with a icy blue hue, consisting of a ches tplate, pauldrons, leggings and boots. His helmet however consists of a dragons head, for intimidating his foes, which was custom made to go over his own draconic head, allowing his eyes to see through a set of eye holes, and the ability to breathe his magic through the maw piece. He also supports a set of gauntlets which possess small holes in the palms, these allow him to concentrate his ice abilities into a short ranged beam of sorts which can be charged.

On his back remains his signature weapon, a large sized warhammer made of powerful steel, used for crushing his foes. it is usually rested on his shoulder, as getting it off his back would be an incredibly tough feat.

Personality:

Malaki has a very weary and tired expression as he speaks, his voice is both heavy and painful, and with his disease, it has made him rather tired. He hardly speaks unless he desires it, which is not very often, and with the disease it has made him lack the joys of living, and will gladly die for his believes.

Despite his disease, Malaki is a Paragon of goodwill and justice for the people, not for the law. His knightly training and his own moral character make him kind to those who deserve it, and to never let anger take over his intentions, he isn't a cold person, and will strain himself to make others that are kind, happy. Protecting innocents, and creating a world of peace are in his desires, even if it may not be achievable during his time, he will at least make a dent in seeing such a vision come true, which has had him become a hero for quite some time.

When he isn't needed, he would take to the joys of sleeping, making him appear lazy to those not acquainted with his disease. Sleep is the only way he can ignore his pain, but every time he rests, he fears he will die without having made significant progress in helping others.

Overall he's a very kind warrior, and like many knights, upholds the law, but unlike many knights, upholds the law of the people, rather than of blind law.

Likes:
Sleeping
Smiling faces
Happy occasions (Weddings, parties, anywhere where people are having fun)
Taking on other peoples burdens and solving them
Killing those who would want to cause the deaths of innocents.

Dislikes:
Evil individuals
Depression
Those who are upset
His disease
Moving
Fighting
Corruption

Past history:
"My history... What will it do to help you? It's a boring... dreadful tale about a ambitious... Naive knight... who now suffers a dreadful fate. My old name? The pain has caused me to forget. I no longer think about the past before. The events I remember, my age I'l remember. But my name? It is not information I dare keep, it would be wasted in my rotting cadaver.

Simply... call me... Malaki. Forty One years ago I was born in the city of Garde. A bustling city that was filled with life, filled with character... was... My mother was a knight, it was thanks to her I was able to be branded into the knights myself, I was born into them you could say. My father died before I was born. Ate alive by demons on an expedition into a crypt hoping for some easy, quick and plentiful cash to help raise me, but it didn't work out.

My mother had to juggle keeping me alive and fed while being forced out into the world as a knight to hunt creatures, protect civilians and serve Garde. When I was six years old, I was ready to be conscripted into training to become a knight. I was a child, young, foolish, I was happy, and like all children of my race, I was tough, and suited myself to what I now carry, I was a smashing type, a warhammer user, I preferred a weapon to crush than to slice... I thought of it as easier, albeit more messy. I cried once in a while, but my mothers words, her joy to see me succeed helped me push myself further, beyond my limits.

I aced my training as a child, and as a young adult. For ten straight years until I was sixteen years old, I was educated, trained and pushed further and further until I was ready to prove myself in battle alongside my friends whom I had met. Our first mission, was to investigate the sightings of a few demons located shortly outside of Garde's city gates. Easy in theory. But that day became the most horrifying day of my life.

When we arrived at the scene, there were several demonic beasts, scarecrows and screechers mostly, but our tactics and plans saw us succeed, we cleaned the monsters out, and we had won... For that moment. It wasn't until we came back to the city, when we were greeted by a town bathed in blood and flames. Fearing for our parents lives and whoever had siblings, our own fear ruled us, and we charged in, intending on finding and saving our loved ones. It was a futile effort. In the next few minutes, I got to watch my allies be ripped apart like wishbones by behemoth like creatures, gnawed and devoured slowly by screechers and sliced and gutted by scarecrows in a maddening blaze of chaotic madness... But... They got it easy. My fate... was far worse.

Imagine the feeling of a thousand tiny knives stabbing into every fleshy piece of your body, melted in hot fire and slicing every vein in your body into shreds while you are melted alive with molten iron from inside your very flesh... That was the only way I could describe the pain I felt... Something pinned me, a demon, like something out of a horroresque dream of nightmares, it's maw was shaped like that of a scorpion,it's body like a spider... and it was huge... It pinned me, and from its maw, a dark... poisonous spew of pus and blood escaped, it stabbed my eye, to make me shriek, and in turn I opened my mouth... And this poisonous... demonic fluid seeped into my throat like acid, but I was not burning, the feeling of it coursed through me, but I did not die. My vision was a blur, I could hardly speak... and then I heard a mans voice... And it spoke to me... it said something I've never forgotten... All it said was... "Melted before the asphyxiating pleasure of lunacy and madness... A puppet of falsehoods, Death would be too kind for you, eternal misery shall befall you. Crack, and bend... Crack... and bend."

I was the only one left alive that day, for whatever reason, this demonic entity left... and the voice too. Guards along the road approached and entered, and all they could find, as a soon out of training knight, half dead screaming in agony. I was took away from the town, to a neighboring city, and was... attempted to be healed. All they could do was recover part of my eye, it was blind, but it was whole in shape once more, and when I saw myself in the basin of water by my side... I could hardly believe it... I looked older... but... much older. Like I was rapidly aging into a hermit...

The fire returned, and it took every ounce of my being to repress it... I didn't want what the man in my head from back then win... whomever it was. I took my warhammer and left, the pain would have made me mad, if I didn't preoccupy myself. Every day I would train, although every movement was if I was being stabbed, it took years to control myself. But every day the pain would grow stronger, and I would age.

For twenty five long years I worked as a knight to help others... the thought of seeing happy faces, happy people made me forget the pain, however I would never be loved. The more I grew older, the more my scales became pale and sickly, some of my scales eventually would rot away, and in a mirror all I could see was pulsing, purple flesh, rotten and poisoned with whatever demonic putrid liquids were inside of me... I looked hideous, rotten and destroyed. If not for my powerful physique, I would be an easy target to rob... It's a good thing I've trained this hammer of mine... If I hadn't, i'd have been picked off long ago... But I have much to do. And until its done... I cannot kill myself..."

A Tales of (....) RP?

Puts up a interest check

Doesn't have a single clue about the story, main characters or any sort of world whatsoever and wants others to GM it for him/her

Genesis: Tales of Sejan

Is it honestly necessary to add a detail like that? It says nothing about it in the OP... That and I can hardly see it being relevant plotwise, @Dragonite777...! I don't exactly feel a need to add something so irrelevant, and my applications as described by you seem spot on to the OP specifications. Would it be so wrong to accept me despite not having something so minuscule as a place or origin? Especially since it's not in the OP?

Edit: There you go, I've added the incredibly unnecessary hometown and description just as you asked. Is this satisfactory to your standards now that I've added something about as useful as a pair of reading glasses for the blind? In any case, they're added, I suppose that means i'm fit to put these into the characters tab now, I suppose?

Genesis: Tales of Sejan

Copy that! I have the thief worked on, just need to do my knight.

Y'might as well review the thief while I work on my knight.

Bartleby Sterling

Name: Bartleby Sterling
Nicknames/aliases: None
Gender: Male
Birthday: 4/31
Age: 23
Class: Thief
Occupation: Thief/Conman
Species: Human
Homecity: Valesten
Homecity description: Valesten is a city located in the central region, it's a pretty generic medieval city.

Physical appearance: Bartleby is a 6 foot 1 tall male with Caucasian white skin, green eyes with dark bags under his eyes, ginger swept back hair and a soul patch beard. He supports a skinny, non athletic build and is missing a single front tooth. He has a high pitched and generally whiny tone of voice and walks very carefree, with a spring in his step.

Clothing style: Bartleby wears a set of jet black nobleman shoes, and a set of black scale skin leggings wrapped with jet black belts. (All the cool kids are doing it, in Bartleby's defense). Supporting a white frilled shirt, a blue and gold trimmed noblemans vest and a golden cravat and a jet black cloak. To top it all off, he wears an eccentric jet black musketeer styled hat, with a blue feather lodged at the side.

Personality: Bartleby is a very selfish and greedy individual, but isn't evil. He'll take whatever he can find and get, having a problem due to being a klepto. He finds himself always attempting to get the best offer out of a situation and will do what is necessary to save himself. Which usually involves running away. He is a coward and a liar, and will always try and bluff himself out of a situation. Bartleby is also a freeloader and a moocher but he generally desires the destruction of the red hand... He'll just try and offer... mortal support... if he can't help it! He can be kind, thoughtful and understanding, but when it comes to survival, he will either run off or demand safety.

Likes: Bartleby finds enjoyment in drinking, reading and enjoys "collecting" things from everywhere he goes, always having some sort of new item after each place he visits, he likes to call it a hobby. He also enjoys brothels, silence and not being bothered. He also enjoys getting free stuff!

Dislikes: the opposite of his likes... And shin, his furry feline companion.

Past history: Bartleby, who had no name at the time, but would later on gain one grew up like many humans within his hometown, as a child he was adopted and raised by a merchant family, though the memories were vague, the only way to describe it was that Bartleby was chosen to be raised merely to help whatever business his adopted parents owned, to help their little scheme flourish therefore as a young boy, Bartleby was raised to be a liar, to cheat and to steal, to use others for personal gain and to never betray his parents. As a child all this information was confusing for the young boy, as he was privately tutored by an arrogant and rough teacher, never even getting to know other children, he was forcibly and abusively banned from interacting with anyone his young age, and grew up in an isolated environment where only his parents could "teach" him about what mattered.

Growing up to learn history, merchandising skills, thievery and much more, along the lines of language and culture, but only to exploit, they had a child they could raise as their own little money maker, and had it not been for their "accidental" deaths, it would have continued that way. Fortunately however, when you become too much of an ass in life, life does you straight in it, and that happened smoothly by the time of Bartleby's eleventh birthday. Simply doing his parents chores and being taught the values of "merchandising", a group of armed men broke into the home and slew both his adoptive mother and father, causing the young child to fail to process what just happened, he never had any love for them, as they showed no love back, but the incident left him almost scarred, when the armed men approached him, it had come to his attention that his parents were in fact scum, nothing but dirty thieves and con artists who seeked to con every single individual out of their gold, and was a potential" threat". With nobody else to take care of him, the armed man agree'd to bring him to a much more "profitable business" And that's how Bartleby was first introduced to the life of the stereotypical criminal underground.

Raised by his new father, named Daniels, a short, black haired tanned male with a talent for crossbows, he acted more like a father than his older parents ever could. Raising him in the criminal underground, and with his thievery and merchandising skills, his new father Daniels raised him on how to lie properly, and taught him the use of his weapon, however Bartleby wasn't a very brave child, and always simply put on a brave face to fool the people around him, skipping any boring and trivial details, Bartleby continued how to use a crossbow, was taught how to lie and cheat and got taught how to trade much more effectively, and with his effort and his adopted father, the two were able to make quite a small fortune in the black market and with their thievery, selling and conning, the two were impressive at their jobs, and ran this for 9 years until Bartleby was twenty years old... and able to outsmart his own father... and meet an individual which would stay in his life for better or more realistically for worse for the rest of his life.

Shortly after the black market business had flourished, and after 9 long years, Bartleby became over such a long time very skilled with using the crossbow and a skillful negotiator, and with these skills and a business partner none the wiser, along with bartleby's own kleptomaniac tendencies which grew over the course of his life of crime, in one single day, and with his adoptive fathers back turned, he killed him... If he was brave and cruel enough, no instead he simple snagged a key to the groups savings and bolted as fast as his legs out carry him with the mass of funds, however it didn't take long for the black market to catch onto his scheme, as he fled with thick bags of gold and hot stolen items all within a giant rucksack, he barely escaped with his life, used his skills to acquire himself with the gold he bought a new outfit, to mask his old appearance and get himself under a new name, or alias.

His original name is unknown, and is known only as Bartleby Sterling, the original name given to him is not even known to himself, having never had a name giving to him by either his newer father of his adoptive parents back when he was a child. Hidden away within an abandoned basement at a corner street within his hometown, Bartleby investigated the contents of the stolen goods and money, enough money to keep him fed for years and within the stolen rucksack of valuables were gems, hot stolen gems fresh for selling and another items curiously popped itself out of the bag... a small, chubby looking Siamese kitten poked its little head out and stared cutely at Bartleby, the conman and merchant coward not knowing just how much agony the cat would bring to him, Bartleby decided to take the cat in, and raise it himself as the two quickly and using bartleby's talents, sold the hot merchandise for a thick profit before fleeing and escaping the criminal clutches of the underground, deciding to use his fine money to start a new life.

Now at age 23, Bartleby has been able to quickly amass his wealth, shown through his very eccentric and interesting attire to look as flashy as possible along with his fat, round cat sucking up every gold piece he had at the same time, now he is starting to feel the pressure of his fortune draining no help to his cat, his conning, thievery and merchant skills having only gotten him so far, if he didn't try and get better merchandise, he was going to start losing money and eventually go poor. Bartleby decided. "If perchance I pretended I was some bigshot hero, i could gain my riches saving the "day" while in reality i could just kick back and let everyone else do my work!" With this foolish plan, Bartleby would find himself going up against forces which were vastly superior in skill to him, in a mission he would refer to as his greatest and most biggest cock up.

Other info: his companion:

Bartleby has a beast of burden... in the shape of a roly poly shaped obese Siamese cat called Shin... This beast of burden can be summerised as a food engulfing black hole, and it nags people just as much as Bartleby does, a major bothering bother which bothers our bothersome Bartleby until it can't be bothered to bother anymore! A cat who's main desire is eating, and sleeping, and meowing, and repeating... Though it does make for some good laughs when it annoys Bartleby to the point of frustration, it is his only true friend though, and he loves shin dearly, and hates the every lasting guts out of the monstrous fatass at the same time... But what can ya' do?

EDIT: GOT MY KNIGHT SET UP!

Malaki

Name: Not known

Nickname: Malaki, Old man.

gender: Male

Birthday: 1/1

Age: 41 (looks about late 90's)

Class: Knight

Occupation: Unemployed

Species: Drakenheir

The Drakenheir are a race of anthropomorphic lizard like creatures with appearances that can be related to the look of dragons. Supporting horns, different colours and hard scales, they are both a durable and agile race, but lack in versatility in terms of magic along with their weakness to certain elements, Live up to an average 80 years and they each have their own single element of power, and whatever is the opposite of that element is their weakness.

For the old man, his power is the use of Ice, Making fire his elemental weakness.

Personal appearance:
Standing at an impressive 7 foot in height, this large male supports a muscular and well toned physique, a thick strong figure was graced to him before he was unfortunately hit with a certain disease of sorts, He retains his size and figure, but looks incredibly more meek, dark black sags hang under his eyes and his green scales remain broken and scratched beyond repair, some having broke off revealing a purple poisoned flesh within, only a few patches of scales remain a healthy green, all other scales became a slightly purplish, pale white, dead and lifeless. His old aged look makes his flesh appear rather sagged, and loose, like an old man would. One eye, his right is blind and unable to see, but is not covered, the other is visible as a golden reptilian iris, graced with still being able to see. He supports four small horn like protrusions out of his cheeks, two on either side, an inch thick, but are cracked and broken, having been longer in the past.

Overall he is a very physically mixed individual, his disease has left him retaining his power, but for every moment he remains in agony from this poison in his system, making him age faster, and bring him closer to his death.
Clothing style:

Malaki likes to remain fully clothed and armored so as to not show off his diseased and rotten draconic appearance to those around him. The first layer of his clothing consists of a set of simple white dirty tunic and some cow leather slacks, over these consists of a set of full body chain mail, on top of this, The Drakenheir supports a set of silver, white effective armor, trimmed with a icy blue hue, consisting of a ches tplate, pauldrons, leggings and boots. His helmet however consists of a dragons head, for intimidating his foes, which was custom made to go over his own draconic head, allowing his eyes to see through a set of eye holes, and the ability to breathe his magic through the maw piece. He also supports a set of gauntlets which possess small holes in the palms, these allow him to concentrate his ice abilities into a short ranged beam of sorts which can be charged.

On his back remains his signature weapon, a large sized warhammer made of powerful steel, used for crushing his foes. it is usually rested on his shoulder, as getting it off his back would be an incredibly tough feat.

Personality:

Malaki has a very weary and tired expression as he speaks, his voice is both heavy and painful, and with his disease, it has made him rather tired. He hardly speaks unless he desires it, which is not very often, and with the disease it has made him lack the joys of living, and will gladly die for his believes.

Despite his disease, Malaki is a Paragon of goodwill and justice for the people, not for the law. His knightly training and his own moral character make him kind to those who deserve it, and to never let anger take over his intentions, he isn't a cold person, and will strain himself to make others that are kind, happy. Protecting innocents, and creating a world of peace are in his desires, even if it may not be achievable during his time, he will at least make a dent in seeing such a vision come true, which has had him become a hero for quite some time.

When he isn't needed, he would take to the joys of sleeping, making him appear lazy to those not acquainted with his disease. Sleep is the only way he can ignore his pain, but every time he rests, he fears he will die without having made significant progress in helping others.

Overall he's a very kind warrior, and like many knights, upholds the law, but unlike many knights, upholds the law of the people, rather than of blind law.

Likes:
Sleeping
Smiling faces
Happy occasions (Weddings, parties, anywhere where people are having fun)
Taking on other peoples burdens and solving them
Killing those who would want to cause the deaths of innocents.

Dislikes:
Evil individuals
Depression
Those who are upset
His disease
Moving
Fighting
Corruption

Past history:
"My history... What will it do to help you? It's a boring... dreadful tale about a ambitious... Naive knight... who now suffers a dreadful fate. My old name? The pain has caused me to forget. I no longer think about the past before. The events I remember, my age I'l remember. But my name? It is not information I dare keep, it would be wasted in my rotting cadaver.

Simply... call me... Malaki. Forty One years ago I was born in the city of Garde. A bustling city that was filled with life, filled with character... was... My mother was a knight, it was thanks to her I was able to be branded into the knights myself, I was born into them you could say. My father died before I was born. Ate alive by demons on an expedition into a crypt hoping for some easy, quick and plentiful cash to help raise me, but it didn't work out.

My mother had to juggle keeping me alive and fed while being forced out into the world as a knight to hunt creatures, protect civilians and serve Garde. When I was six years old, I was ready to be conscripted into training to become a knight. I was a child, young, foolish, I was happy, and like all children of my race, I was tough, and suited myself to what I now carry, I was a smashing type, a warhammer user, I preferred a weapon to crush than to slice... I thought of it as easier, albeit more messy. I cried once in a while, but my mothers words, her joy to see me succeed helped me push myself further, beyond my limits.

I aced my training as a child, and as a young adult. For ten straight years until I was sixteen years old, I was educated, trained and pushed further and further until I was ready to prove myself in battle alongside my friends whom I had met. Our first mission, was to investigate the sightings of a few demons located shortly outside of Garde's city gates. Easy in theory. But that day became the most horrifying day of my life.

When we arrived at the scene, there were several demonic beasts, scarecrows and screechers mostly, but our tactics and plans saw us succeed, we cleaned the monsters out, and we had won... For that moment. It wasn't until we came back to the city, when we were greeted by a town bathed in blood and flames. Fearing for our parents lives and whoever had siblings, our own fear ruled us, and we charged in, intending on finding and saving our loved ones. It was a futile effort. In the next few minutes, I got to watch my allies be ripped apart like wishbones by behemoth like creatures, gnawed and devoured slowly by screechers and sliced and gutted by scarecrows in a maddening blaze of chaotic madness... But... They got it easy. My fate... was far worse.

Imagine the feeling of a thousand tiny knives stabbing into every fleshy piece of your body, melted in hot fire and slicing every vein in your body into shreds while you are melted alive with molten iron from inside your very flesh... That was the only way I could describe the pain I felt... Something pinned me, a demon, like something out of a horroresque dream of nightmares, it's maw was shaped like that of a scorpion,it's body like a spider... and it was huge... It pinned me, and from its maw, a dark... poisonous spew of pus and blood escaped, it stabbed my eye, to make me shriek, and in turn I opened my mouth... And this poisonous... demonic fluid seeped into my throat like acid, but I was not burning, the feeling of it coursed through me, but I did not die. My vision was a blur, I could hardly speak... and then I heard a mans voice... And it spoke to me... it said something I've never forgotten... All it said was... "Melted before the asphyxiating pleasure of lunacy and madness... A puppet of falsehoods, Death would be too kind for you, eternal misery shall befall you. Crack, and bend... Crack... and bend."

I was the only one left alive that day, for whatever reason, this demonic entity left... and the voice too. Guards along the road approached and entered, and all they could find, as a soon out of training knight, half dead screaming in agony. I was took away from the town, to a neighboring city, and was... attempted to be healed. All they could do was recover part of my eye, it was blind, but it was whole in shape once more, and when I saw myself in the basin of water by my side... I could hardly believe it... I looked older... but... much older. Like I was rapidly aging into a hermit...

The fire returned, and it took every ounce of my being to repress it... I didn't want what the man in my head from back then win... whomever it was. I took my warhammer and left, the pain would have made me mad, if I didn't preoccupy myself. Every day I would train, although every movement was if I was being stabbed, it took years to control myself. But every day the pain would grow stronger, and I would age.

For twenty five long years I worked as a knight to help others... the thought of seeing happy faces, happy people made me forget the pain, however I would never be loved. The more I grew older, the more my scales became pale and sickly, some of my scales eventually would rot away, and in a mirror all I could see was pulsing, purple flesh, rotten and poisoned with whatever demonic putrid liquids were inside of me... I looked hideous, rotten and destroyed. If not for my powerful physique, I would be an easy target to rob... It's a good thing I've trained this hammer of mine... If I hadn't, i'd have been picked off long ago... But I have much to do. And until its done... I cannot kill myself..."

@dragonite777

Genesis: Tales of Sejan

Hey, is this rp still accepting? I was thinking of making a knight and a thief possibly!

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Chronos Curse! (NO LONGER ACCEPTING APPS)

Date: August 21st Friday.
Year: 2015
Time: 16:30 pm

Like any other day in the spiraling busy city of Tokyo, the streets bustled with activity has hundreds of thousands navigated and headed toward their next destination. The echo of a thousand footsteps rattled throughout the clustered streets, combined with the electronic clatter of mobile phone ringtones, electronic billboard advertisements and pachinko parlor arcade machines. Like any other day in Tokyo, today was going to be a sleepless day.

The boiling sun laid high upon the sky as it always did, its painfully hot rays of light attacking the shadeless citizens without conscious, as typical of a summers day. Amidst the collection of people, one individual moved along them, A 6 foot tall male with almost white pale skin, and black braided dreadlocks reaching half way down his back, supporting two black lip piercings on each side of his bottom lip and three silver stubs on his nose on either side, he also possessed a tattoo on his right cheek of a black kiss mark with the shape of a butterfly on top of it. His dark hazel eyes glanced gently around him, eyeing the different type of person that hurriedly pushed by, supporting white lipstick on his mouth and wearing odd black fishnets for his shirt, a black bowtie and a black Japanese school jacket tied around his waist, supporting black Japanese school boy pants, and heavy black high rock punk boots. Two visible tattoos laid upon his hands, saying the English words of "Kiss" And "Love"

The 19 year old winced as he gazed upwards, groaning as the warm heat assaulted his skin, he retreated into the shade, specially through the automatic doors of a convenience store, a line of sweat drenched his face. The young adult panted while he slowly wiped the liquids from himself, sighing at the same time.

"Never has a convenience store been more... convenient...! The heats been like this all morning, hope nobodies passed out from it... It's completely bizarre..."

The Gothic looking male's mind continued to ponder until an unfamiliar voice echoed behind him, startled, he immediately turned around, only to see the employee of the convenience store glaring at him.

"Are you going to buy anything or are you just going to stand there, scaring off the other customers?" the employee berated, causing the Gothic looking man to stutter slightly.

"M- my mistake, sir! Give me a moment!" Gibson spoke back, as he hurriedly rushed to the nearest ramune section, a icey box remained just at the side of the store, closed over, which Gibson immediately opened up and obtained two bottles of watermelon flavored ramune from. Gibson immediately closed the lid and walked to the counter, setting down 300 yen for the drinks, he grumbled at the slight overpricing of them and walked away, guzzling down one of the drinks in his right hand without restraint, soothing the summer heat from his system.

"Phew... that's a relief..."

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Chronos Curse! (NO LONGER ACCEPTING APPS)

I dont want to have you all wait so long, so I posted a small little beginning, which you guys can start roleplaying in while im away for a few days.

All our characters will pretty much be around the same busy street (no name, but, you get what I mean) so socialize or rp a little before the big bad shit goes down when i can get it done.