Zombehs

Magical Soldiers

Poke with interest.

Nature's Outlaws

Don't suppose I could get in on this? I'll bring some plums?

[HighCas] Medieval Fantasy Adventure, Small Group

Might try and give this a whirl.

Progressive Arcanum

Well hot damn. Much text.

I miss Game of Tails. :(

Welcome to Beacon Academy: A RWBY RP

The Night Prior

The Atlas native hadn’t needed to explore much of the new city to find a shop that caught his interest. It seemed that like in his home country, worthwhile shops could be found in the more obscure and less travelled areas. The place that had caught Oren’s attention was a small coffee shop away from Vale’s main streets, rather close to the Academy. With soft lights and a dated, but homely atmosphere, he couldn’t help but step into the business. A rush of pleasant aromas told him he had chosen well, and he paused for a moment to try and sort through the variety of roasts that filled the air. He had only managed to pick out a few familiar varieties before a soft voice greeted him through the quiet din that filled the shop. By no means was Oren a tall individual, but even he had to look down just a tad to focus on the individual that had greeted him. A pair of feline ears twitched as he met the waitress’ eye while her tail swished back and forth behind her. “Welcome to the Joe Shop,” she said with a grin as she stepped to the side and waved him into the small store. “Please, take a free seat.”

The hours passed by quickly in a pleasant blur, and by the time Oren stepped back onto the streets, the sun had set. Sighing deeply at the lingering traces of the last cup, he promised himself he would return here. Their roasts varied greatly, but each had been a distinct flavor despite the many cups that had been finished. The shop’s atmosphere had been relaxing, somehow even managing to have a quiet area where the ambient music didn’t reach despite the building’s small size. His lips twitched, edges curling up into a small grin, when he noticed the employee that had greeted him waving goodnight to him behind closed doors. Returning the gesture, he figured he had spent enough time off school grounds for the day. Dinner was likely over by this time, but he didn’t mind grabbing something on the way back. He’d managed to find a great shop to drink at, so maybe he’d get lucky and score with the food as well.

---

Waking came slowly to Oren as it always did. He blinked several times to clear his vision and took a look around the room slowly as he took everything in. The sun had yet to rise over the horizon, but the fading night sky told him it wouldn’t be long. Snores, grumbles, murmurs, along with every other noise involuntarily made in one’s sleep filled the dining hall. Some students were awake and moving around, stepping cautiously to avoid waking their peers; for the most part the new arrivals were still fast asleep. Oren did not plan to rejoin them though, so he stifled a small yawn then got up and away from the comforts of the still-warm mattress.

A cloud of fog came with every breath. The sun was over the horizon by now, but the temperature had yet to climb enough that the air wouldn’t be called chilly. Several laps around the Academy had proven enough to wake him up and get the blood flowing, though with the upcoming initiation he hadn’t really pushed himself. Considering he had seen a fair number of students exit the dining hall on his last lap around, Oren figured it was about time to eat and get ready.

“... and Oren. You twelve will be reporting to Beacon Cliffs at 1000 sharp. That is all.” With that, the white-haired professor turned to walk out of the dining hall. He had just arrived, pulling the door open to catch the last few words she said.

“Interesting…”

---

Though Oren’s attire had not changed much, appearance-wise at the least, its composition was very different. He still wore a coat over his white collared shirt, and a pair of grey trousers. Black boots were his footwear of choice while he had also chosen a pair of black gloves to wear. Not too far from a civilian look, but civilian’s didn’t have military-grade coats, gloves, and boots. His weapons hung off him: his sword sheathed at his hip, the pistol and knife to his thighs, and the assault rifle on his back. It was more equipment than a soldier carried, let alone a normal Hunter, but if it hampered him, Oren’s movements didn’t show it. Instead, he stood there with a blank expression and hands in his coat pocket as the Headmistress spoke. He let that part glide overhead and chose to focus on what the professor what to say instead, deeming the brief to be much more important.

To be honest, it didn’t really seem all too different from what he had heard about Beacon’s initiation. Oh, some of the details had been changed around, but overall the basic objective was still the same. Regroup after arrival, advance towards objective, retrieve said object, clear and secure the immediate area, and wait for extraction. Straight forward enough, but complications were no doubt simply waiting around the corner to crop up. What Oren was most concerned about, given the information they had received, was the possibility of the extraction spell failing due to the presence of Grimm. Such a situation would be unfortunate to put the least. He had barely a moment to contemplate how they were going to arrive at their destination before white filled his vision as the runes expanded outwards from underneath his feet.

---

His vision returned, and Oren immediately dropped to the ground and took a knee. He was in an alley overrun by undergrowth, and a few moments were needed just to collect himself. A variety of scents in the air, the noises that just barely reached his ears, among more information that he took in and processed. Aside from the soft sound of wind blowing through grass, Oren heard little in the immediate surroundings. Nevertheless his rifle was pulled free and loaded, a magazine fitted in place at the weapon’s rear. Chambering a round, Oren took a deep breath and sighed before finally standing up and moving forward. All the buildings nearby seemed rather tall, so if he wanted to find out where he was and needed to go, well… height would be required.

Poking his head around the corner, Oren did a quick sweep of the street. Plenty of plant life dominated the once urban region, nature having reclaimed it with time. No signs of Grimm caught his attention though, so quickly he moved into the nearby building. The dusty air that rushed out when he forced the door open was quite relieving and annoying at the same time. Stifling the cough with an annoyed grimace, Oren moved inside and up the stairs quickly. His footsteps resounded through the empty halls and though he kept vigilant, nothing showed up to put him to the test. Luckily enough, despite portions of the outside wall being completely gone and exposing areas inside to the weather, the stairwell was wholly intact. The rooftop door required a bit of force to break open, namely a shoulder rush that forced the old piece clean off its hinges and clattering to the roof.

“Shit.”

It wasn’t exceptionally loud, but the metal door made a bit of a ruckus that carried through the surroundings. Though he heard no response, no howling Beowolves to an intruder, Oren didn’t hope that it had just gone unnoticed. At the very least though, now that he was here, he would see anything coming down the streets or alleys towards him. With that in mind, he began to scan the ruined city. Apparently luck was on his side, at least partially, given that he had been deposited within the city fairly close to their destination. It would likely take him only a few minutes to reach the church if he moved on top the roofs and wasn’t interrupted. Something he noticed forced him to turn his attention elsewhere though...

Progressive Arcanum

Still around.

Equivalent Exchange: Gimme Dat Booty

Just a bit under the weather.

Name: Roan Basaris
Age: 19

Where do you hail from?
Roan has nothing that could be called a homeland. Born in the midst of travel that his race is known for, he is one of the few Raulites that remain.

Raulites

The race looks very similar to humans, but as a whole has a darker tone of skin color. Their bodies also tend to be lightly built, with heavy, muscular individuals being incredibly rare amongst them. Their most noticeable trait would be the natural “tattoos” that form as Raulites age though. A magically inclined race, Raulites boast a sheer depth of power that few others can match. This pool of energy nourishes their body as well, bolstering them physically. As a result, Raulites can live for vastly longer than humans, easily reaching up to centuries in age if careful. The “tattoos” are actually pathways where energy flows through their bodies made visible. An easy way to gauge a Raulite’s magical strength is to simply examine their “tattoos”; those with deep pools or fine mastery often have the most pronounced markings.

The race is nomadic now, and with their low numbers their lifestyle doesn’t seem to be changing anytime soon. There may only be a few thousand Raulites left at most, possibly even hundreds. They move in groups, too small to be called tribes, of numerous families that number a few dozen at most. Members are free to come and go, as each family within the group tends to be self-sustaining for the most part. Scattered as the race is, there is very rarely contact between the remaining groups. However the fact that most Raulites are agnostic hints that there was once a society for this race. They see higher beings as responsible for the creation of this world, shaping it with great feats of power. Magic is a lesser form compared to what these higher beings used, and would be seen as no more than parlor tricks.

For the most part, Raulites do not care much for the world’s politics and kingdoms. Within each and every individual lies a wanderer’s spirit that refuses to be shackled and tied down. Many dislike the race for their “parasitic” nature, i.e., they move through lands not owned by them and take resources. However little action is generally taken against Raulites for they move through rapidly, staying in a kingdom’s lands for no more than a few weeks. That and the effort to drive them out with force is generally not worth it. They move quickly which means hounding them is an effort in itself, and Raulites generally boast some magical ability as a standard making confronting them difficult.

In regards to the Labyrinth, the general belief seems to be that it is a domain closer to the higher beings than their world. As a result Raulites hold a healthy respect for the mysterious realm and do not actively encourage their young, rare as they are, to challenge it. Nonetheless, they respect those who strive to conquer it, seeing it as a chance to become more than mortal.

What are your reasons for crossing the Gate of the Labyrinth?
A mix of childhood fascination and that his wanderlust seems to have lost direction, still driving him to move, but leading him nowhere.
How would you describe yourself?
A young adult who hasn’t quite lost the enthusiasm of childhood. While not happy, go-lucky, outgoing, he does hold a sense of energy in everything he does; very driven as some might put it. Now Roan tends to think a bit rather than diving head first into situations, but he hasn't managed to quash the impulsive side just yet. Combined together, he can become a bit immature in stressful circumstances, easing up to deal with the situation rather than the other way around.

As an restless wanderer, he doesn't have many issues with being alone and is rather comfortable with only the sounds of nature. He doesn't mind company, but isn't particularly used to it so he does tend to withdraw in to himself around others. He doesn't become meek, on the contrary he's usually courageous, but Roan does distance himself. And courageous? Not particularly afraid of challenges or dangers, Roan won't question a decision to try and save a stranger's life, even if it carries the possibility of injury. Outside of the more urgent situations where immediate actions help the most, the Raulite isn't nearly as charitable.
And your morals and ideals?
Roan’s moral compass is one that leads him fairly straight in life. He’s willing to help others and would rather simply not associate with others than throw them under for his own benefit. He prefers being remembered briefly by many rather than fondly by a few, never sticking around for long even after he does assist others.
What do you consider yourself to be skilled in?
He's a good lone wanderer, with all the skills that entails? Self-sustenance away from civilization and by one's self. General survival skills such as gathering and preparing food, setting up shelters, weathering a myriad of conditions, some basic first-aid and medicine, etc. The lifestyle was relatively spartan so his skills aren't particularly elaborate, but they allowed him to live.

Physically. Roan might not be the most athletic individual or powerful warrior, but he's a hardy and resilient survivor. He tires slowly and recovers quickly, can hold his own in combat, and generally isn't the type of individual that bandits go after. Even alone, he carries the air of someone who knows what he's doing and has survived long enough doing so.

Magically too. Because Raulites get the blessings of both. While Roan's abilities are specialized and he can't work anything aside from them, he can still hold his own against others who tap into the more mystical forces. His own magic manifests mostly in abilities that affect and empower him, granting him even more potent physical capabilities. Roan also holds a number of "contracts" with several beings he was drawn to over the course of his travels. The lingering traces attach themselves to parts of his magic-infused body as anchors and allow him to call upon them for assistance in combat or his travels. They are not beings, but closer to recordings left behind in various locations that he has now copied onto his body. Raw feelings and emotions are about as much as Roan can feel from them.
Any fears or weaknesses that you hold?
Being robbed of his magic is one, albeit it would likely kill him in the process. Living on after that, if it was somehow managed, without his contracts wouldn’t be something Roan would like to do to put mildly.

Anything that interferes with magic would weaken Roan physically as well due to how the magic is ingrained and constantly flows through his physical body. This is counter balanced by the fact that it is harder for his magic to be interfered due to the way it’s wholly integrated with him.

He’s a bit naive if someone can gain his trust? He’s been a solitary wanderer for the past few years with little company for the most part. That’s not to say he’s dumb, but he will generally listen to what others say.
Which part of your body do you value the most?
Probably his left arm. His first contract is bound there.

Stats I get one extra, yay.
Strength: 5
Leg Stuff: 5
Dexterity: 5
Homogenized Body Stuff: 6

Welcome to Beacon Academy: A RWBY RP

Aw yesh.

Deep Ground Online

Still lurking.

Log Horizon x Etrian Odyssey-esque Experimental RP

Just a bit under the weather.
Name: Roan Basaris
Race: Raulite

Fluff. Bad, but fluff nonetheless.

The race looks very similar to humans, but as a whole has a darker tone of skin color. Their bodies also tend to be lightly built, with heavy, muscular individuals being incredibly rare amongst them. Their most noticeable trait would be the natural “tattoos” that form as Raulites age though. A magically inclined race, Raulites boast a sheer depth of power that few others can match. This pool of energy nourishes their body as well, bolstering them physically. As a result, Raulites can live for vastly longer than humans, easily reaching up to centuries in age if careful. The “tattoos” are actually pathways where energy flows through their bodies made visible. An easy way to gauge a Raulite’s magical strength is to simply examine their “tattoos”; those with deep pools or fine mastery often have the most pronounced markings.

The race is nomadic now, and with their low numbers their lifestyle doesn’t seem to be changing anytime soon. There may only be a few thousand Raulites left at most, possibly even hundreds. They move in groups, too small to be called tribes, of numerous families that number a few dozen at most. Members are free to come and go, as each family within the group tends to be self-sustaining for the most part. Scattered as the race is, there is very rarely contact between the remaining groups. However the fact that most Raulites are agnostic hints that there was once a society for this race. They see higher beings as responsible for the creation of this world, shaping it with great feats of power. Magic is a lesser form compared to what these higher beings used, and would be seen as no more than parlor tricks.

For the most part, Raulites do not care much for the world’s politics and kingdoms. Within each and every individual lies a wanderer’s spirit that refuses to be shackled and tied down. Many dislike the race for their “parasitic” nature, i.e., they move through lands not owned by them and take resources. However little action is generally taken against Raulites for they move through rapidly, staying in a kingdom’s lands for no more than a few weeks. That and the effort to drive them out with force is generally not worth it. They move quickly which means hounding them is an effort in itself, and Raulites generally boast some magical ability as a standard making confronting them difficult.

In regards to the Labyrinth, the general belief seems to be that it is a domain closer to the higher beings than their world. As a result Raulites hold a healthy respect for the mysterious realm and do not actively encourage their young, rare as they are, to challenge it. Nonetheless, they respect those who strive to conquer it, seeing it as a chance to become more than mortal.

Age: 19

Description: Fixated on the Labyrinth from a young age after seeing its entrance, the mysterious dungeon was just a focal point for Roan’s natural curiosity. The group his family travelled alongside was made of those whose wanderlust was exceptionally strong. Traversing the lands faster than other Raulites, their path was unpredictable and thus never boring. Roan tapped into his pool of magical energy at an age that was considered to be early, and though the depth of his was not amazing, the effects were. Accessing it at a young age allowed the magic to infuse his still growing body and mold it in ways an already developing body would have rejected or resisted. Though his internal stores were forever diminished, he grew up quick and strong, even amongst his kind.

With boundless energy as a result, Roan dived head first into the many “mysteries” he noticed during their travels. Sometimes his experiences ended badly, and he sports more than a few scars to tell the tales for him, but like a child he never let the bad crush his personality. Eventually he also began to learn from the experiences which tempered his enthusiasm… somewhat. Yet with one thing tempered, another was revealed.

While he might not have been an adult mentally, thanks to the circumstances of his youth, Roan was full grown by the time he was about 16. It was around this time that his own sense of wanderlust awoke, unsatisfied to simply follow the explorations of his parents and companions. It wasn’t just wanderlust that drove him to set off alone, but he himself didn’t know how to explain it at the time. It would be revealed when he set foot onto a barren wasteland, what remained of a clash between an army raised to stop a mindless engine of destruction spat out by the Labyrinth. It was here that Roan discovered his first contract, absorbing what traces remained of the lingering spirit so as to call on it later.

Returning to the Labyrinth's gates a few years later, Roan feels he can sate it is the place that can truly sate his wanderlust. For the past year, the drive rarely dulled and did so for only brief moments at most. The sensation was most unusual for him. Normally it pushed him in a direction, towards lingering traces of those he could form 'contracts' with, but not this time. The urge would pull him this way and that, seemingly without reason or direction. So instead he decided to return to the place he had seen in his youth and finally satisfy the fixation that had stayed with him from then.