Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

Hey, :D

People call me Zamokra, Zamo or Sylas for friends. What can I say about myself? Am a simple bloke in his early twenties trying to find his place in the world. I'm also a practitioner of the arts of drawing, writing, gaming and procrastinating.

I like roleplays of almost any color though I tend to stay away from those based on TV shows/series, don't ask why. I usualy preffer Mid-Casual to High-Casual and although I 'specialize' in Fantasy-based RPs, I also like every other type, ranging from Slice of Life to Ultra-Futuristic-Sci-Fi and everything in between.

No off-site info on me, I like to keep my privacy private :D

Jokes? Alright then. What is red and bad for your teeth? A brick.

Most Recent Posts

I have a question : How much trouble would one of us have in fighting a fleshnid? AKA, am I allowed to 'auto-hit' and potentially 'auto-kill' one or two of them while fending off a couple others?

Can I : "The blade swung in an arc, slicing through the abdomen of the creature"

OR "The blade swung in an arc, intending to slice through the monster" and then wait on the GM post to determine if my hit was successful and if it did anything? I imagine this would be case when fighting something big and scary like a boss, but does it also apply for the 'mobs'?
CS approved via PM

One after the other the tiny spirits scrambled and overwhelmed the great monster, akin to a myriad of glowing ants attempting to topple a giant. It too was doing its part, however little and insignificant, pulling on the rough edges of the metalic staple with as much strength as its thin, frail and muscle-lacking arms would allow, determined to bring its grim task to an end. It threw an eyeless glance around for just a fugitive moment and witnessed the masses of its translucent, furtive kin crawling all over the grotesque and repulsive fleshy mound of the horned creature's body, each trying to damage and wound it in however manner they could muster. This sight brought forth a ...new feeling inside. A feeling different from the accustomed dread, terror and worry to which it was intimately familiar with since the first perceived moments of conciousness within the dark cage. No, this feeling was far more pleasant and uplifting, a feeling of combating the most impossible, insurmountable odds, a feeling of overcoming the threats and obstacles with nothing but the limited, pathetic resources at hand, a feeling.... of hope. Yes, this feeling was making its warm and comforting presence known as it swelled within the thin, lackluster, glowing frame of its body, a feeling quite new yet oddly enough, evocative of an unsettling familiarity. Its pulling and effort grew, motivated by the hope that washed over it, mustering forces it itself would question the source of, until certainly enough, with a sudden gnashing sound of flesh tearing and blood spouting, the staple was successfully and violently plucked, the velocity of the sudden motion sending it backwards in an arc, pulling the still clinging fragile hands which in turn pulled the rest of its being after it, sending the frail being tumbling backwards until it landed on its back on the bulging, pulsating fleshy surface.

If it had a mouth it would smile, if it had the strength it would raise its fist in a glorious, defiant moment, if it had a voice it would shout and scream a roar that would call the attention of all to its small and perhaps insignificant, yet nonetheless strangely uplifting, moment of victory. Alas, fate it would seem is a fickle and tormenting mistress, as the brief moment of glory was rudely cut even shorter by the spasms and sudden bouts of movement from the assaulted monster as it began to flail its grim, black metal covered clawed hands, striking at its belly and smearing the grisly remains of the many tiny, glowing beings that were unfortunate enough to be subjected to the direct blows. Some were thrown off-balance by the shock-wave and trepidation of the leathery, bulging fleshy mass of its belly, resulting from the aftermath of the monster's struggle. It, too was fortunate enough to escape a sudden demise, tumbling and tossing until it inevitably fell on the hard, rocky surface of the ground beneath in a similar manner to when it first emerged from the cage. Was this to be the end? Was all his struggle and the struggle of its kin in vain after all? It would seem not, as sure enough the great, shambling, horned monstrosity had fallen, the fleshy flaps of its once protruding, bulging and sagging belly had been violently ripped, a stream of dark crimson fluids of oil-like consistency flew from its beastly body, pulling along with it a mass of organs, sinew and other viscera along with whatever furtive, tiny spirits were left fortunate enough to escape their earlier demise yet unfortunate enough to be caught in the ghastly torrent of the monster's demise.

Drowning in the hellish fluids of the great monster's grim insides would have been most tragic, luckily it had been spared such a cruel twist of fate as it found itself, along with a small number of others of its kin, dragging its broken, weaken form across the now heavily stained ground. It saw, how the grotesque, gargantuan husk of the creature, along with the mass of organic matter and dark fluids had turned to a sudden, pure white coloration, becoming powder-like in consistency only for the presence of an unknown breeze to blow it away in all directions, turning the very existence of the colossal monstrosity into nothing but a recent, horrid, nightmare-like memory.

And then it saw it...

Left behind the massacre were a number of glowing, white orbs scattered all around the hellish ground, some of its kin already reaching for them as if that was their purpose all along. It too felt this... animal-like, instinctive urge to crawl across the once grimy surface to the nearest sphere, holding it in its twig-like arms and gazing upon it glowing surface. A number of new feelings and sensations washed over it, feelings of curiosity, intense need, will of survival, fear and worried joy, all mixed into a twisted noise that overwhelmed the now trembling, furtive frame of the spirit. Before its crumbling mind had even the slightest chance of comprehending the events that unfolded, it found itself with a now gaping, hungering maw of a mouth forming on the featureless surface of its face, gorging greedily and insatiably on the orb until there was nothing but a few strands and wisps of dust left in its wake. Satisfaction would have been predictable, but what followed was the feeling of its frame being pulled and torn into all directions, sprawling on its back with spasms and unconformable twitching as a vast array of images began playing out in front of its mind's eye. It saw a myriad of scenes. Scenes of nebulous, dark skies dotted with an impossible amount of starts; scenes of men and women clad in metal-like frames, marching through cold, iron hallways with a vast array of weapons in hand; scenes of disturbingly familiar faces dancing and dissipating before it had a chance to identify them; scenes of horrid, abominable, cyclopean horrors with saurian-like eyes, taloned appendices, sharp-toothed maws and slimy, grotesque tendrils all flailing, reaching and grasping for unfortunate humanoids to devour in a most grisly manner. All these scenes and more played out through its head, bringing along broken pieces of a puzzling, long-forgotten memory of a past life; all while its physical body experienced a metamorphosis. Its once furtive and frail form had grown in size and muscles started to make their presence, defining an athletic form which soon found itself encased in a suit of black and grey metal, with a translucent blue glow emanating from the visor of its helm and a few other parts of its reborn body.

It... No... HE felt the familiar touch of his armor, the known sensation of his weapon tightly clutched in his hand. He felt how right and fitting it was.. "Sigma..." he muttered to himself over and over, a single word which he remembered defined him, a title that refereed to himself specifically. From this sudden metamorphosis he rose, his gaze landing on the sound of a non-distinct creature calling out for... allies? It witnessed the humanoid like-creature, partially bathed in an eerie green light which only brought attention to its horned, canine-like skull, the appearance of which made him tense up and assume a guarded stance. Next to this being it saw a more horrid creature, the makings of which appeared to be formed from a number of different animals mashed together in an abhorrent abomination of sorts, with hooves, claws, a skull-like animalistic head and a second at the end of a long, scaly tail. The appearance of the second creature caused him to feel animosity and hostility "E..engaging target.." he muttered, his muffled, reverberating, artificial-like voice speaking those words from pure instinct, as natural as breathing. He became mobile, advancing towards his perceived target, the sharp metal blade in his hand was at the ready to spill the blood and split the monstrous creature's body into pieces. Yet he stopped, suddenly as a new... far more terrifying presence made itself felt in the area, emerging, ebony leathery wings first from the glowing river of molten lava. He glanced back at the pair of creatures from before, only now realizing that... were they once kin? Were they also once furtive, wispy spirits that had undergone a transformation metamorphosis and regained vestiges of their probable past lives?

A loud, blood-curling roar interrupted his thoughts, his attention once again focusing on the great bestial monster that emerged from the lake of fire. Questions would have to come later, a decision had to be made.

Fight or flight?
@GarlandDaHero

Well, that is ... unfortunate. It would be nice if you could stay but its your call, obviously. Hope you change your mind in the coming days, if not, hey, no hard feelings, right? :)
Wonderful.

Ryuji Sakamoto has not made a single post and also seemed to ignore my PM. He is out.

@GarlandDaHero and @Duoya, feel free to make your posts after which I will be moving the story along.
Pardon my absence everyone, was simply waiting to see if people had lost interest or not. For that purpose, I would kindly ask for a roll-call to see who is still around.
IC post is in the works, to be followed shortly by CS. Juat wanted to let you know I'm still atlround :)
Terror. That is all that it felt, the only thing it knew certain. It saw only blackness, all around, no light, no forms, nothing, the only company it had were the inane mumbling and whimpering that echoed. After a while it wasn't sure which of these sounds of desperation were its own and which belonged to other, probably just as unfortunate beings as itself. The vile darkness that caged it became maddening, it wanted to reach out, in a desperate attempt to move and crawl out of this void, yet it couldn't. The space, wherever it was, it was cramped and limiting, something always pushing against it, unable to move but only squirm in place like a worm in the dirt. It wanted to scream, it wanted to wail, 'HELP! HELP ME!' it wanted to shout to whomever and whatever was willing to listen, yet to it's horror it discovered that these cries were only real in the confines of its own broken mind, clutching and scratching at its own face revealing nothing but a smooth yet crude surface, no mouth with which to scream and no eyes to reveal anything. That instant alone was enough to drive it mad, it's squirming intensified, desperate to reach for someplace, any place, as far away from its blackened confines as possible. Yet the more it struggled the more resistance it felt, the whimpers that echoed all around being accompanied by similar squirming, pushing and grasping in a similar bout of desperation. How did it end up here? One sane enough would have asked themselves this question and pondered to rationally resolve it if only to keep the maddening terror at bay. Yet it had no such luxury, no, for as far as it was concerned, this vile blackness, these desperate wails, these nauseating cramped confines... This is all it knew for as far back as it could remember...

Movement... It felt a distinctive movement. Its limited squirming space became even smaller, the things around it pushing against its every side as if forced. It barely was able to motion one of its limbs yet it also felt the distinct movement of being elevated. And then... a miracle. The darkness was pierced by a sudden flash of light, replacing it entirely with nothing but whiteness. The sensation of elevation continued only to be abruptly stopped and replaced by decline, pushed down in equal measure by gravity and the weight of the things on top of it. It fell, tumbling on what vaguely felt like a semi-soft, fleshy surface before simply falling through the air, meeting the hard, rocky ground underneath as it made impact and rolled on the side like a weighed rag-doll. It's vision was starting to clear, the piercing whiteness being replaced by a blur of mixed, dark-earthly colors. It would have questioned its ability to see without eyes if it were not for the glorious sensation of having the freedom to move, no longer confined by whatever things cramped it in the darkness. Somehow it found the strength to stand, lifting itself from the hard surface and wobbling to keep balance as its muscles were tight and rigid, atrophied from its lack of proper motion in the dark. How odd. It expected to feel pain, distress, discomfort as it struggled to regain its balance, yet it felt no such thing. Indeed, it felt absolutely nothing, it just realized. Could all the sensations it felt earlier have only been as real as the sounds it wanted to produce, real only inside its head?

Whatever questions and sense of rationale it attempted to have were rudely interrupted however, as the blur it was seeing became clearer and painted a picture of absolute horror. The place it found itself standing in, it could only be described as HELL. All around it saw.. figures of shimmering, dim, white light with humanoid forms, scrambling and flailing about in agitation. Many were horribly disfigured and torn apart, some by means of odd black stones covered in spikes while many others were left in such a poor state by means unknown to it. This mystery was soon revealed as it's gaze fell upon a sight that nearly sent it back into its broken, whimpering state from which it had just escaped. The creature was of a colossal size, capable of grasping whole clusters of beings such as itself in it's immense, clawed hands. It's appearance was a grotesque, hideous malformation of sickly colored flesh, encased in small parts by metal as black as it's protruding, many-jointed horn-like appendages that sprouted from its head. It's leathery skin was stretched over what would be it's face, near-perfectly smooth save for the large gash in the middle which revealed a grotesque maw of yellowed, miss-aligned teeth which crushed and ground a plethora of these small, dimly-lit beings. The tainted flesh was bulging all around its form, seemingly struggling to contain the fat and whatever grim and grizzly contents within. This... hideous apparition, this monstrous creature of unreasonable size and unprecedented grotesqueness would have surely been the end if it were not for a stroke of luck. This monster appeared to be struggling on the floor, a large, oddly-placed, fleshy bulge was visible where it's throat would be, the creature starting to claw at it in an attempt to escape the choking on its own greedy feast.

Most of the furtive beings scampered and tossed about in equal measures of fear and confusion, yet some had taken advantage of the monster's misfortune and attacked it in whatever pathetic and ill-advised fashion they could. One such thing was climbed atop the fleshy mountain of its belly, struggling with all its fleeting strength to pull and loosen one of the odd, metallic staples that kept the slit in the middle of the creature's grossly body together. In what some would describe an act of inspired bravery or desperate madness, it too quickly scampered closer to the horrid thing and imitated the fellow furtive being, clutching at a separate staple with its thin hands and struggling with whatever ounce of strength and might it had left to pull it apart. Why it had this initiative it did not knew. Self-preservation was still a present instinct within the crumbling halls of its mind and for whatever reason it, a twisted logic made it clear to it that if attempting to run and scramble like the rest, all would be in vain. Better to meet one's end fighting rather than panicking in futility, that was a truth oddly present in it's mind and it did not question it as it tried and struggled to bring its grim task to an end and attempt to cause more suffering to this monster, however little it could.
Some questions...

Since reality is the 'real world', that means that our previous lives were in the modern day, right?

And, when we DO write our characters, do they have any memory of their previous lives? If so, should this sorta affect what potential, powers and/or weapons they can potentially gain?

I am mainly asking to figure out what 'themes' are available for Character Creation, whether I can make a wizard, knight, gunslinger, plague-doctor, space-marine etc.
VERY interested
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet