Utrax

Skyfall: A Coming of Age Story

De'yaego Flowchart:

Is There a Problem?
| |
V V
Yes No
\ /
Yes there is, how dare they?

Hope this helps!

Skyfall: A Coming of Age Story

^{... the castle.}

De'yaego came running up to the castle at a jog, wholly heaving breath after breath, because he was definitely out of it. Why was he running again? A very distinct clicking and hissing noise picked up from behind him as his pace slowed. Ah, right, that's why he was running. Deeply, a sigh left him, as he glanced over his shoulder at the quickly approaching sentient-mass-of-magma-- or was it Lava now-- that was trying to keep up with him. Rolling his eyes, De'yaego had half a mind to kick the thing into the nearest sewage grate, but that hadn't worked out the last time-- or the several times before that either. No matter what he did, his eidolon always managed to find its way back to him, but he wasn't quite to the point of giving up his attempts at getting rid of it.

Setting his jaw, De'yaego marched toward the portcullis, as the guards called to answer it, fully absorbed in his own thoughts. When he approached it, a guard moved to block his path, which caused his steps to slow but not halt. See, he half-expected to be met with a bit of skepticism and perhaps suspicion, as his Ma'd told him about castle-folk and their peculiars, so he wasn't surprised when the Guard gave him a once, twice, thrice-over, and a glare.

"Here for answerin' call t'Champions," De'yaego told the guard gruffly, still walking toward him at a slow pace, "And I thank ya for side-step." Baring his teeth, De'yaego met the Guard's confused stare, with a rather aggressive one, as his Eidolon clicked and clacked behind him-- adding their own demands to the statement.

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

^{The Basic Bitch Beach House}

“She’s Penny! Definitely ain’t a coven secret member, she’s way too competent for that, no offence to like everyone here.”

“Yeah I’m beginning to get that impression,” mumbled Penny, causing Mariah to snicker in response. It was at this point that Mariah gently released Isla from her lifesaving hold. She listened to Penny in curious silence, especially when the doomsday prophecy and man-eating-monsters were brought up. Wait. There was ANOTHER man eating monster besides the thing in the woods? Yes, that was likely, but also, the concentration of man-eating monsters in this one state was already high, with the tigers and alligators involved-- Florida had too many damn teeth.

“I like your hat.”
Tilting her head to the side, Mariah stared up at Penny, then replied, "I kinda like yours too--" she took hers off and held it forward "--wanna trade?" Mariah shrugged.

“And hold up, did you say you Florida was nice? Is that what drove you to joining a bunch of witches instead of just getting a plane ticket home?” Penny asked Isla which caused Mariah to look down and also ask, "--yeah, why not jus' go back home ta Germany?" The seriousness with which she asked this clearly indicated she...wasn't joking.

"Or uh? Switzerland? Slovakia? Whateva-- I ain' an accent-ologist," Mariah shrugged, then would proceed to back-stroke into the deeper end of the pool, with her hat on her chest, whichever one she got. Staring up at the sky, Mariah gave a slight yawn, then told Isla, "If you go and there ain' a whole buncha monsters out there, jus' take me witcha, sis." Giving a loud yawn, she floated gently away from Isla and Penny for a solid second, and when she said that, her tone was halfway between resignation and--SNZZZZ. Mariah fell asleep as she floated further into the deep end of the pool, like a narcoleptic or some shit, but in her defense she was well over a full day without sleep. And. There she goes.

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

^{The Basic Bitch Beach House}

SPLOOSH. Or had that been more of a splish?
Mariah jolted sharply at the sound, having been in a caffeinated daze, and she turned her attention to Isla. Shouting rapidly, Mariah told her, "Bitch-- stand up-- Sis? Just stand UP--" she took her shoes and socks off with shaky hands as Isla floundered about "--ay, we ain' gon' drown in three feet'a water, sis!" Why was nobody else moving to help her? Obviously Isla was somehow drowning, despite the fact it was less water than a kiddie pool, which would be a plain old embarrassing way to die. She plopped her cellphone and fan into her shoe and stepped into the pool. Of course, being tall as fuck, the water only came up to her thighs, and she walked over to try and YANK Isla up with a scooping motion, aimed under her arms like a FORKLIFT to facilitate, you know, her standing. "Joder-- get it together--" Mariah told the flailing woman as... the fatal BOOP from Penny was comin' in hot.

Slowly, Mariah looked up from the single finger aimed for Isla, to the person it was attached to. Was this girl straight out of a Country Music Awards worthy Video or what? On the heels of that thought, Mariah was half tempted to plop her cowboy hat on the other woman's head. With a flat expression, Mariah was going to try and EVER SO SLIGHTLY move Isla out of boop range by just an inch, if she'd even managed to grab her. No one gets booped today-- it was entirely too close to GLOMP-ing and she'd had ENOUGH of that kind of behavior to last a lifetime.

“--it’s going to be your goddamn fault!”

Distracted by the angry yelling, Mariah looked over at Vashti, then scrunched a face. "Hold on, who the fuck is them?" Her eyes narrowed on whoever-the-hell Vashti was yelling at-- she didn't look familiar. When did she get here? Was this girl able to go invisible? How did she sneak up in BROAD DAYLIGHT?. Confused, she looked back to Penny then squinted, "Or you? Who're you? What--" she looks back to Vashti and the Kim Gang, then back to Penny "--y'all ain't just secret members of the coven I ain't met or somethin', right?" All these questions would be asked whilst holding Isla if she didn't manage to wiggle away.

Delete Things? For Utrax?

roleplayerguild.com/posts/5166382
This one please?

Skyfall: A Coming of Age Story

De'yaego, the Forceful Brute

Character Details:
Name:
De'yaego
Age:
18
Appearance:
Standing at 6ft 2in and built thickly, here's a young man who was fed well but lifted a lot of heavy stuff in his life. Warm brown skin, large brown eyes with a dreamy stare, and a scruffy beard immediately stand out about his face. He's kept his hair oiled and protected by styling it into dread-locks, as the rest of his family has done, and has only once had to cut them, in all his life, after an unfortunate encounter with a fireball. He has the full lips and regal nose of his heroic lineage-- as his elders say. Still, despite being on the cusp of adulthood, he's still got the youthful features of a young man-- often having guesses at his age aimed downward. As is tradition, he's had his canine teeth plated in gold, via a very secret and painful method-- such is the symbol of his lineage, as they emulate their ancestral heroes, and the tales speak of the warrior with "golden fangs"-- the symbol of the warrior which he bares.

Large Picture

Personality:
Well this guy thinks he's in charge all the time. Sure, he's certainly a responsible and honest sort, but why must he insist on taking care of everyone, taking charge of the situation, or issuing out orders as if he were the King? This is a bossy fellow but in an oddly mellow way. He maintains a cool-headed exterior, sometimes even icy, even when demanding attention-- which he often does so by lowering his voice and gesturing sternly. A lot of his emotions aren't spoken of but they do show on his face. Deep sighs and head shakes accent the fact that he thinks he's always right and that everyone else should just do as he says. He can be so straightforward and honest that his bluntness boarders on rudeness. There's a stubborn streak in him and more than a few cultural oddities-- such as solving arguments with your fists and baring your teeth as a sign of hostility.

Background:
Out on the fringes of society, in a tiny coastal village, to the north of the E'lyzabeth islands, there is a very small clan of warriors made of fifteen families, that claim to be descendants of a "Grand Band of Heroes". Wither or not this is true, they live as another nameless village, with lands barely claimed or owned, in huts made of rubble and metal. Here they live off the land as best they can, mostly subsisting on hunting and gathering, while scavenging from what's left of the world before, to fashion weapons and armor.

They keep strong the traditional fighting styles and skills of their ancestors-- being something of a village of warriors as a result. Families that carry the ancestral blood of the heroes emulate them as a means of paying tribute physically. As a result, many of the villagers have golden "fangs", the cross chest scar, the white streaked hair, and other cultural signifiers. It was in this village that De'yaego was born.

This is a boy that was the oldest of his siblings and forced to grow up too fast. His Mother raised him as brutally as his mother before her-- as she hailed from the lineage of some Great Hero and the techniques they used demanded passing down. There was a brutal balance in her style of care. For every beating he received, there was equivalent care-- for every missed meal as punishment, there was a feast. De'yaego grew up helping raise his siblings as well, as his mother was very busy, outside of training him, and it often left him and his aunt and second mother to care for the children. Oh, his father? Dead before he met him. Each of his siblings is only half-- the four of them having four completely different fathers but the same mother.

And all of them having dead fathers.

As is the tradition of their somewhat forgotten village, new fathers embark on a lonely sail, out into the sea which crashes upon their cliffside village. While many return, the journey must be taken upon the birth of the child, even if the weather swells the waves and cracks the skies. De'yaego figures it was some sort of curse. The fathers of his friends returned-- but whenever any of his siblings were born, winds howled and thunder boomed, which forced their fathers into mosfortune.

When his mother sent him away on his eighteenth birthday, he didn't question it, and knows he can never return. His mother made that abundantly clear. Through his life there were others which left the village-- those born to the "true lineage," that he never saw again. Oral tradition often spoke of it in song and dance-- how the fabled warriors were exiled by the elders. Were it not for the exile, say the tales, those heroes never would have awakened to their true destiny. As is believed by the elders, certain children have a sacred "spirit reading" conducted at birth, wherein which their exile is predetermined, and known only to the parents, until the day comes. Such is the burden which De'yaego was born into-- a fact that was purposefully hidden from him up until this point.

It's been a few days since then and naturally he misses his home and his family quite dearly, though he keeps his composure, and hides the sound of his rumbling stomach very well.

Skills:
Hammer/Mace/Club Proficiency + Hand-to-Hand Proficiency + Stand Your Ground-ism
De'yaego can take a punch, grit his teeth through pain, and stand his ground probably a good deal firmer than most young men his age. His knuckles, hand, and feet are calloused for his fighting style is brutal, made for killing by any means, and his training matched. He will not run or turn his back to his opponent unless he's dead set on saving his life for next time. The fighting style consists of very close range attacks, grapples, knees, kicks, and lots of nasty "unsportsmanlike" moves-- he will absolutely bite someone's face and gouge their eyes out if necessary.

Free Climbing
The village he hails from is full of ruins, caves, holes, and cliffs, which gives him some skill when approaching climbable objects. Though he's not the most agile, he's got some bravery, and can leap and bound without much regard for heights. All of his climbing skills is without gear and he definitely doesn't know how to use much other than a rope-- but even then he'd rather just climb using his hands and feet.

Gear:
Traveling Pack: Hunting Knife, Canteen, flint and steel, dried fish/squid, oatmeal.
Worn: Rusted Steel Bludgeon, trench-coat with hood, fighter's hand-wraps, shade-lens goggles, a very green gold chain necklace, dirty cargo-pants, and thick leather boots. That's right. He's not wearing a shirt.

Misc.:
He can lift 280lbs at max but can't run very well at all. It's not that he lacks the stamina, it's simply that he lacks the speed. So focused on fighting and lifting that, as they say, "All gains and no cardio etc. etc...". With that in mind, it's no wonder that he absolutely cannot read. He was training to be a warrior and no part of that involved reading, learning more than about how to hurt and kill people effectively, and how to properly treat his own wounds. He can't cook other than charring the meat over an open flame and only has a slight knowledge of edible berries and mushrooms.

Eidolon Details:

Name:
Craigerius -- The Molten Core of Shol
^{Craig for short but don't say that too loud, they're sensitive.}

Appearance:
Tremble in fear and wail in terror mortal, for Craigerius The Molten Core of Shol, has arrived! Run as it summons volcanoes with a single stomp-- scream as streams of magma burst from the ground TO BURN ALL WHO STAND BEFORE IT! Which would be impressive if it was larger than knee height.

Craigerius!

Abilities:^{Luckily(?) fire's dangerous even if it's small...}
Volcanic Stomp/Molten Rock Control -- With a single stomp of their tiny foot-nub, a 1ft tall volcano emerges from the ground, and erupts violently with smoke and lava, setting up the point from which a lot of abilities are cast. Craigerius has full control over molten rock but the rock must be molten first. They can melt other rocks down but it's just easier to use the tiny volcano. One can see how this could quickly get out of hand if large quantities of molten rock are formed or if, you know, you're in a library combination rug and dry wood store. That said, the control over the molten rock is difficult and takes a lot of stamina and concentration-- while a large quantity can be controlled, it gets more difficult as the amount goes up. A bucket of lava is all fun and games but a silo? Difficult! ^{And who even stores lava in a silo?}

Rather notably, Craigerius and De'yaego don't work together very well-- the Eidolon having taking a liking to him but De'yaego seeing it as a bothersome creature that doesn't follow instructions. The two couldn't be more alike. De'yaego met Craigerius only a month ago-- the creature having found him and insisted on following him. Their communication has a definite barrier as Craigerius' speech comes out as sputters, hisses, and clicks to the untrained ear. Other Eidolons understand Craigerius' communication without effort and seem to be rather nervous about whatever they ramble about. Luckily, it seems the "Stupid Giant" has no idea what Craig is saying. For now.

Recollections: The Coven [COMPLETED]

^{The Basic Bitch Beach House}

Outside, the sound of some Cuban music bumped, and the noise of a party-drunk bunch of stragglers came through a dirty apartment window. Steam curled over the cup of coffee as Mariah stared down into the street below. Behind her, the floor creaked, and a voice asked, "How a fuck you up so early?" Mariah looked over her shoulder at Tory and, as usual, he was topless.

Squinting heavily in the morning light, he walked over to the fridge with a yawn, saying, "You never up early."

Raspily, Mariah replied, "No duermo. No sueño--"

Her voice caught and she took a long drink from her coffee. She'd tried to sleep but kept seeing it every time she closed her eyes.
Hearing it whenever the silence moved in-- Had Kara screamed?
Or was that just the voice of the monster?
Both?
Were those the sounds of her bones breaking-- fizziling and popping-- flesh curdling, sloughing off, being dissolved. Was it joy for the beast? Would it have laughed as it killed her too?
A strangled noise of distress left Mariah unconsciously.

Hector sloooowly looked over the open refrigerator door at her, squinted, then pulled out a jar of peanut-butter-- that he insisted on keeping in the fridge for some Peruvian reason-- with a bunch of eggs, and some milk. "You fuck? You fuckin' high-- what," Tory asked as he took down a HUGE container of WHEY protein from atop the fridge, "What you mean? Is four-- you the sleepiest bitch?"

Mariah didn't say anything as she watched him crack open several eggs, scoop peanut-butter, protein powder, and dump milk into a nearby blender and, to sweeten the deal, dump a bunch of used coffee grounds into the mix. As the blender WHIRRRRRR'd, Tory locked eyes with Mariah, and her gaze dropped to his waistline.

"Ya belly button's a spike," Mariah informed him.
"Fuck you," Tory replied with a frown, "What you go do today?"
Right on cue, Mariah pulled her phone out of her pocket, and showed him the Uber arrival notification. Again, Tory frowned, "But is four-- what you. WALK AWAY FROM ME? Walk away-- FUCK YOU IS FOUR--" With a not-so gentle slam, the door to the apartment closed behind Mariah, and she walked out.

Around five in the morning, Mariah arrived at the Beach House, but she didn't go up to the door or walk in, because she needed to have a nervous breakdown on the beach instead. Yeah, there were some tears, some water kicked, some sand thrown, and she eventually found herself walking-- just walking-- all the way to the nearest coffee shop, then another, then a hotdog stand, then a boardwalk.

By the time she ended up on her way toward the Beach House for the meeting, she had peed at least seventeen times in random places around town or on the beach, and she was more than twenty-four hours without sleep. What was it now? When had she last slept? Was this how time traveling worked?

Because she entirely didn't recall how she got to the poolside with the rest of the Coven, but she sure as hell was knees deep in meeting, and was staring directly at Claudette as she was talking. Mariah looked down-- what the fuck was she wearing? A set of beat-up sneakers, some paint-stained sweat pants cut into shitty shorts, a bright ass tank top that had a very crunchy coca-cola logo on it, and... a cowboy hat. Mariah pat herself down, feeling the weight of her knife in its usual place, then she opened her fan sharply, and began to give herself some breeze.

"Does anyone have any ideas?"

Claudette

Mariah continued to fan herself, shaking her head in response with a mumbled, "Nah sis," and letting the others speak up. And, of course, they did. She was glad for it because, as everything in her body seemed to be vibrating from a continued sugar-caffeine-sleep-deprived high, Mariah extremely wasn't catching any words or conversation, as she stood there sweating her damn underwear boggy. She was pretty sure that her voice would come out high pitched like one of them sped up cartoon characters if she said a full sentence at this point. Her gaze grew distant again, behind her dark ass shades, and the thousand yards was stared at once more.

Had Kara screamed...?

Werewolf Pack RP?

I'm down for whatever.

Serpent's Snag-A Supernatural Western

Hello fellow RPers,
I've added a location to the Shanty Town with GM approval. Thanks to RR revealing that we can do that!
A tiny list of NPC's associated with the little eatery can be found on my CS tab.
Here's the copy paste from the Tab if you don't wanna click.
Please feel free to interact/speak of/know of them NPC's and the Inn as you will.

Early's Inn and Eatery -- Shanty Town

Early's -- Inn and Eatery

On the edge of Shanty Town, right along the road leading out of town, is not only a group of houses for Colored laborers-- formerly slaves having been emancipated , having traveled West, and many of them having taken up station as cowboys, bounty hunters, and assorted laborers-- there's of course the local eatery. Started by an old woman by the name of Earlene Dukes, the property was built by her hand and that of her family. It was simply her hospitality, always cooking enough to feed the neighbors or anyone that came by, that launched the idea of opening a restaurant. The weariness and late hours at which some hungry folk came knocking initiated the idea of the "inn".

Early's is a single level wooding building, with four private rooms, but plenty of space in the common area where travelers have propped their feet up, taken rest on the floor, or atop any gap of space in the often crowded inn. For the reasonable price of ten cents, a traveler can eat all day at Early's, and there are even wooden tokens handed out for a "lottery" that awards a free meal to a returning customer.

Currently, Earlene resides in the residence, always keeping the doors open and the stove warm, with two of her seven children in town, and four grandchildren between them. A small farm supplies her food and meat, maintained by several people in the neighborhood-- which largely supports itself. Her loyalties lie solely with the colored people of Serpent's Snag, no matter who or what they are, as long as they keep the peace and take their scuffles outside. Some say that Earlene's husband's ghost can be heard singing from the kitchen on Sunday nights-- that he has a voice worthy of praise and misty eyes.

(NPC's in CS tab!)

[Open] [Remake] The Deep Blue Sea

Prince Tol Anzi-de Carragua

^{@AnyAlex@Blade17@Squirrel98}

He was here to make sure that HE was the one that went on the little "sailing trip." Here, the room was clearly outfitted for simple lounging, but had had been rearranged with a few tables here and there with the dishes and utensils. The layout for breakfast was enough to be filling-- various treats and beverages for energy without making one feel too full. While he knew that his chances of going were likely already under threat, he had to make sure they were aware their other options were worse.

"Good Morning," Prince Tol would eventually greet his guests, "I'm here to apologize and make sure that I help you understand why it is I, Prince Tol, that should accompany you on this voyage."