1
BlackFTW
Nron
Yes, I know that I have two RPs now. Well, my response: "YOLO, screw the rules."
==___ Plot/Backstory ___--
~ To note, the technology level in Laftia is Steampunk-Medieval-Fantasy.
Somewhere in Laftia, somewhere in the Strarrati Ocean, is an island with the name "Frirra", meaning "Cold Earth", which is quite fitting if you knew about the place.
The island is about a hundred kilometers across, a hundred up. Upon the only proper port is the only town on the island, which is called "Port and Inferno", which is derived from the Latin words "Gate to Hell". Its actual name is Port Killande, but Port and Inferno is largely written on the docks. Along the rest of the island is a big line of forests, commonly used for hunting and certain other means. In the middle of the island is a big tower called the Hell Gate. Reason why?
Inside Hell Gate is a series of puzzle-ish, monster-infested floors that go both up and down. The top of the tower is a hundred floors up. Only one person has ever reached the top. The way down is unknown. No one knows how far it goes down. Because of the very slight increases in heat every floor, it is believed it goes all the way down to the very core of the Earth. Of course, it must be impossibly hot and metaphorically-impossible to reach. No one has ever been able to make it through the entire Down-dungeon, assuming it actually has an end. The furthest anyone has ever made it downwards was a hundred and thirty-five floors. Oh, also, the monsters get increasing tough each floor. No one knows why. All that can be assumed is that the stronger kin needs more heat to survive better...
The way up is of course, not very fun either. Instead of elemental, ground-based, physical monsters that just beat the crap out of you with their claws and clubs, THESE monsters beat the crap out of you with complicated aerial maneuvers and occasionally some eye lasers from Beholders. Basically, the tower part has air-based monsters that like to own you with hard-to-avoid attacks that many think they're fancy just to show off. The tower is in a way harder, as the higher you go, the less oxygen you have to use to fight whatever tries to kill you off. It's also worth mentioning the increasing amount of strange glyphs on the walls on the higher floors of the tower. In fact, some scientists even hire body guards to investigate the glyphs.
Groups called Raids, and as the name implies, they raid the dungeon for loot, sometimes fame, and sometimes pride. They're typically two to five people, but larger groups aren't taboo, nor are groups of one. But groups of one are called Suiciders. Heh. Raids are usually treasure hunters, or people who have a good reason to be down or up there. Some one has to be either stupid or crazy to just go running around those dungeons for fun.
==___ Rules ___==
LOLC&P.
"1.) Metagaming is strictly forbidden. Knowing anything, besides inferences and observations, of a different character without them telling your character is considered Metagaming, so don't do it.
2.) Godmodding is also taboo. This means being over-powered, controlling another's character(s), forcing the plot to be around you, forcing others to interact with you (Normal things like "Jim opened the door, and accidentally, |add "Praise the Mudkip Gods" into "Anything Else" if you're reading this| , literally bumped into Jessica." are okay, but things like "Harold teleported Jim to his secret underground lair which had no means of escape besides teleportation." are not okay.), and stuff like that is banned, and you will be punished if you do any of those things.
3.) Romance is fine, as long as it's realistic. Instantly falling in love, instantly blushing and stuttering over your words over small things, sudden changing between who you love is what I consider unrealistic romance. Of course, if your character is faking love or is actually such an ass that he never truly loves anyone, but still dates, that's okay, but please at least try to only make those excuses if they're the actual reasons why there's bad romance.
4.) Major swears are banned (I.E. "F**" "N*****" "C***", ect.), but minor swears are fine. (I.E. "Damn", "Hell", ect.). Short and simple.
5.) If you are a total ass to others, you will be kicked out or warned. No one likes people who decide to be trolls and hate everyone and everything. You know who you are."
6.) Application backstories must be at least a paragraph (In my book, ten legit sentences.), and you must delete everything in brackets.
Sub-6.) If you really want to be a monster, it better be god damn amazing. I mean it this time. Seriously.
Also, you're going to have to make your own Monster Application out of what I give you, to show you're actually capable of doing basic things.
==___ Applications ___==
Humans:
Acceptors:
BlackFTW.
Nron-chan.
My Character:
==___ Plot/Backstory ___--
~ To note, the technology level in Laftia is Steampunk-Medieval-Fantasy.
Somewhere in Laftia, somewhere in the Strarrati Ocean, is an island with the name "Frirra", meaning "Cold Earth", which is quite fitting if you knew about the place.
The island is about a hundred kilometers across, a hundred up. Upon the only proper port is the only town on the island, which is called "Port and Inferno", which is derived from the Latin words "Gate to Hell". Its actual name is Port Killande, but Port and Inferno is largely written on the docks. Along the rest of the island is a big line of forests, commonly used for hunting and certain other means. In the middle of the island is a big tower called the Hell Gate. Reason why?
Inside Hell Gate is a series of puzzle-ish, monster-infested floors that go both up and down. The top of the tower is a hundred floors up. Only one person has ever reached the top. The way down is unknown. No one knows how far it goes down. Because of the very slight increases in heat every floor, it is believed it goes all the way down to the very core of the Earth. Of course, it must be impossibly hot and metaphorically-impossible to reach. No one has ever been able to make it through the entire Down-dungeon, assuming it actually has an end. The furthest anyone has ever made it downwards was a hundred and thirty-five floors. Oh, also, the monsters get increasing tough each floor. No one knows why. All that can be assumed is that the stronger kin needs more heat to survive better...
The way up is of course, not very fun either. Instead of elemental, ground-based, physical monsters that just beat the crap out of you with their claws and clubs, THESE monsters beat the crap out of you with complicated aerial maneuvers and occasionally some eye lasers from Beholders. Basically, the tower part has air-based monsters that like to own you with hard-to-avoid attacks that many think they're fancy just to show off. The tower is in a way harder, as the higher you go, the less oxygen you have to use to fight whatever tries to kill you off. It's also worth mentioning the increasing amount of strange glyphs on the walls on the higher floors of the tower. In fact, some scientists even hire body guards to investigate the glyphs.
Groups called Raids, and as the name implies, they raid the dungeon for loot, sometimes fame, and sometimes pride. They're typically two to five people, but larger groups aren't taboo, nor are groups of one. But groups of one are called Suiciders. Heh. Raids are usually treasure hunters, or people who have a good reason to be down or up there. Some one has to be either stupid or crazy to just go running around those dungeons for fun.
==___ Rules ___==
LOLC&P.
"1.) Metagaming is strictly forbidden. Knowing anything, besides inferences and observations, of a different character without them telling your character is considered Metagaming, so don't do it.
2.) Godmodding is also taboo. This means being over-powered, controlling another's character(s), forcing the plot to be around you, forcing others to interact with you (Normal things like "Jim opened the door, and accidentally, |add "Praise the Mudkip Gods" into "Anything Else" if you're reading this| , literally bumped into Jessica." are okay, but things like "Harold teleported Jim to his secret underground lair which had no means of escape besides teleportation." are not okay.), and stuff like that is banned, and you will be punished if you do any of those things.
3.) Romance is fine, as long as it's realistic. Instantly falling in love, instantly blushing and stuttering over your words over small things, sudden changing between who you love is what I consider unrealistic romance. Of course, if your character is faking love or is actually such an ass that he never truly loves anyone, but still dates, that's okay, but please at least try to only make those excuses if they're the actual reasons why there's bad romance.
4.) Major swears are banned (I.E. "F**" "N*****" "C***", ect.), but minor swears are fine. (I.E. "Damn", "Hell", ect.). Short and simple.
5.) If you are a total ass to others, you will be kicked out or warned. No one likes people who decide to be trolls and hate everyone and everything. You know who you are."
6.) Application backstories must be at least a paragraph (In my book, ten legit sentences.), and you must delete everything in brackets.
Sub-6.) If you really want to be a monster, it better be god damn amazing. I mean it this time. Seriously.
Also, you're going to have to make your own Monster Application out of what I give you, to show you're actually capable of doing basic things.
==___ Applications ___==
Humans:
[b]Full Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Raid:[/b] (Feel free to not be part of one. I'm not forcing you.)
[b]Backstory:[/b] (Refer to Rule 6.)
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Anything Else:?[/b]Acceptors:
BlackFTW.
Nron-chan.
My Character:
[b]Full Name:[/b] Daemon Azter.
[b]Age:[/b] He's nineteen.
[b]Gender:[/b] Male.
[b]Raid:[/b] He isn't part of one.
[b]Backstory:[/b] Daemon was born on the Mainlands, in a desert. He liked the heat, so that helped him endure the vengeful sun that had claimed the lives of many travelers, mainly the foolish ones that believed that they could just travel the entire length of the deserts without being fully prepared for everything. It wasn't until he was a fully grown adult did he manage to get out of the scorching sands and into a very water-filled region in Laftia. It was pretty much the polar opposite of the deserts. Being with water everything and such. It was also freezing cold at night, and there were a lot more settlements. Probably because people actually wanted water on a normal basis.
After a year or so, he heard of Hell Gate. With the riches promised to be inside and everything. He wondered what it's like to be able to just total the beasts sealed inside the thing known as the Tower. Which a bit of curiosity and some greed, he took a boat to Frirra, though it took two months do to a lot of detours and long stops at shore. When he got there, he instantly seeked out someone to teach him how to use a weapon. What possible reason could a random boy from the Western deserts need to learn how to use a weapon or something and how to kill things with it, beyond obvious things?
[b]Appearance:[/b] Herp derp herp. I promise. I'll write a description some day. Seriously. I will. Promise. Really.
http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs44/i/2009/115/8/0/Swordsman_by_Proto_sworD.jpg
[b]Anything Else:?[/b] Every body sing "PRAISE THE MOTHER F***ING MUDKIPS, YOU W****!!". Now.
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19
1
Shameless Bump and such
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So, you made no mention of him ever going inside Le Tower. Wouldn't someone who just washed up on the shore just be insanely curious about a gigantic tower just sitting there?
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He's too busy trying to get a ship to find his brother and continue his pilgrimage.
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Full Name: Francois (France-wa) de Monfroe
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Raid: Raids? Francois was just washed ashore on a mysterious island. Why would he, at all, be interested in raids?
Backstory: Francois awoke to the sounds of waves crashing, and hushed whispers. He cautiosly opened his eyes, and found a jumble of boots, shoes, and feet. He dug his hands into the warm sand on which he lay, and lifted them out of the ground and up to his face. Instead of the familiar clean flesh and knuckles, he found his hands to be raw and torn. Dried blood covered his fingertips, and his palms were dirty and wet. He lifted his head a little to see his abdomen to see that his cut, bare chest replaced his elegant robes. He raised his head to see who's feet was who's, and he saw a group of curios fisherman and women, staring at him. They smelled of fish and sweat, and small children cast glances at him through the adults' legs.
As Francois sat down in The Rusty Sloop Tavern at a small table, he began to remember how he woke up on this unknown island.
Waves crashed against the once-sturdy caravel heading towards the pilgrimage site. Much-needed could be found throughout the ship, and due to only one carpenter, the ship wasn't be in fit condition for the storm. Francois sat in his cabin underneath the deck, along with his brother Jean. Jean was uncomfortable and anxious to reach land, and the waves and rain that battered the ship didn't help to calm him down.
The caravel eventually began sinking, and the deck collapsed on Francois and Jean. Francois managed to escape, and pulled out Jean. Francois and his brother raced up to the captain's quarters, only to find them abandoned. As Francois rushed out of the room, one of the masts snapped, and landed on Jean. He yelled out in pain, and as Francois was lifting the mast off of him, a large wave tumbled over the ship, sending Francois into the ocean, and leaving Jean crushed under the mast.
Francois shook off the sight of his brother drowning, and ordered some coffee. He gulped it down, paid for it, and walked out onto the main dock. Small schooners and merchant vessels bobbed in the water, and countless fisherman sat on the docks edges. Groups of fisherman stood next to boats or barrels, talking, drinking, or eating. Some were carrying crates to and fro, others simply taking a break. A group of suspicious looking men were standing at the edge of the dock, talking and pointing to the large stone structure known as The Tower.
Francois ignored The Tower, for it was much too dangerous for him. He needs to get a ship, find his brother, and continue his pilgrimage.
Appearance: French descent:
Anything Else:? So three mudkipz walk into a bar...
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Raid: Raids? Francois was just washed ashore on a mysterious island. Why would he, at all, be interested in raids?
Backstory: Francois awoke to the sounds of waves crashing, and hushed whispers. He cautiosly opened his eyes, and found a jumble of boots, shoes, and feet. He dug his hands into the warm sand on which he lay, and lifted them out of the ground and up to his face. Instead of the familiar clean flesh and knuckles, he found his hands to be raw and torn. Dried blood covered his fingertips, and his palms were dirty and wet. He lifted his head a little to see his abdomen to see that his cut, bare chest replaced his elegant robes. He raised his head to see who's feet was who's, and he saw a group of curios fisherman and women, staring at him. They smelled of fish and sweat, and small children cast glances at him through the adults' legs.
As Francois sat down in The Rusty Sloop Tavern at a small table, he began to remember how he woke up on this unknown island.
Waves crashed against the once-sturdy caravel heading towards the pilgrimage site. Much-needed could be found throughout the ship, and due to only one carpenter, the ship wasn't be in fit condition for the storm. Francois sat in his cabin underneath the deck, along with his brother Jean. Jean was uncomfortable and anxious to reach land, and the waves and rain that battered the ship didn't help to calm him down.
The caravel eventually began sinking, and the deck collapsed on Francois and Jean. Francois managed to escape, and pulled out Jean. Francois and his brother raced up to the captain's quarters, only to find them abandoned. As Francois rushed out of the room, one of the masts snapped, and landed on Jean. He yelled out in pain, and as Francois was lifting the mast off of him, a large wave tumbled over the ship, sending Francois into the ocean, and leaving Jean crushed under the mast.
Francois shook off the sight of his brother drowning, and ordered some coffee. He gulped it down, paid for it, and walked out onto the main dock. Small schooners and merchant vessels bobbed in the water, and countless fisherman sat on the docks edges. Groups of fisherman stood next to boats or barrels, talking, drinking, or eating. Some were carrying crates to and fro, others simply taking a break. A group of suspicious looking men were standing at the edge of the dock, talking and pointing to the large stone structure known as The Tower.
Francois ignored The Tower, for it was much too dangerous for him. He needs to get a ship, find his brother, and continue his pilgrimage.
Appearance: French descent:
Click to reveal
Anything Else:? So three mudkipz walk into a bar...
1
Meh. I give up. Well, only one thing to do now. DANCE OUT.
[youtube]www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yn-9AUntu10[/youtube]
[youtube]www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yn-9AUntu10[/youtube]
1
I already have many times.
1
You still haven't proved that you're the king of everything.
1
I have thumbs, and wings, and magic, at varying times, imbecile.
It is clear that you are a moronicist.
It is clear that you are a moronicist.
1
At least I can make sandwiches! You have no thumbs, you impudent pig!!!Q111111!1!!!!
1
Good for you, you seem to be able to control sandwiches, barely, as they aren't sentient.
1
t_t That`s pretty much the equivalent of me saying that I am King of Sandwiches, Clue.
1
I control all, by choice.
1
Let's see how much you can control, Clue.
1
I would rather not be king of only the skies.
I am King of All, and thou shalt not attempt to defy me knave!
I am King of All, and thou shalt not attempt to defy me knave!
1
Well, the bird will shortly see that he will be hunted down. Don't think you're the king of the skies, Clue.
1
That's good black, that means that IU am slowly asserting myself as Controller of this Land.
1
Accepted, as usual, Nron. Though I keep getting Circe and Fitcher confused. D:
You may also accept, and what not. Also, Clue, if you're reading this, his god damn name will go on the god damn super amazing and important list.
You may also accept, and what not. Also, Clue, if you're reading this, his god damn name will go on the god damn super amazing and important list.
1
Full Name: Fitcher 'Black' and Circe
Age: Fitcher: 27
Circe: 23
Gender: FItcher: Male
Circe: Female
Raid: Currently inquiring about joining one.
Backstory: The man behind the counter looked on in growing horror and fascination as the pair sitting in front of him downed more and more bowls of food. Already a crowd had grown outside the shop, peering in thru the doorway to get a better look at the two armed figures. It was, after all, not every day that such interesting people decided they would waltz into town.
The first of the two was rather short, given that her face and figure gave off the impression that she was in her early to mid 20's, with silver hair and red eyes. Her black and red armored suit was of note as well, though so were the two one foot blades and various knives that were strapped and sheathed about her person. Despite her small size, she had already eaten seven bowls of food, the bowls stacked high to her left. She had eaten almost as much as her companion.
The woman's companion was not so short, his head nearly touching the roof of the establishment even while he was sitting. His armor had the same coloring as the woman's, though it looked to be far tougher and heavier. There were a few small objects attached to the armor here and there, but otherwise nothing of interest. The man himself had already devoured nearly eleven bowls; he had had to stack the empty ones in two columns to avoid them from toppling.
The only thing bigger than the man or his appetite was his weapon, a large and rather horrifying sword, far bigger than any normal person should have been able to carry around or even use, though some odd, softly glowing runes dotting the surface of the man's armor raised suspicions
Eventually, once the they had both eaten another 3 bowls, the two stood up and brushed themselves off, the large man leaning over to avoid hitting his head. He tossed the owner of the shop some money and the two made their way out of the shop and down the street. They had been looking for work for some time but were having little in the ways of luck.
"You would think that with all monsters running around in the Tower of late that someone would be looking to hire some bodyguards to protect their sorry asses." the large man, who went by the name Fitcher 'Black', said as he put down his face shield, obscuring his sharp features. The woman, known as Circe, was busy inspecting the tip of one of her wickedly curved knives as they walked.
"Maybe we could disguise ourselves as monsters and slaughter a few Raids." she commented, her tone extremely conversational despite the words that had just exited her mouth, "I'm sure that would start a fire under someones pants." Fitcher gave a small chuckle, something only Circe seemed to ever be able to make him do.
"Have I ever told you how sadistic you are Circe?" Circe gave a small smile that managed to be both warm and bone chilling at the same time.
"Not today no." Fitcher gave another chuckle and the two made their way out of the town and down an empty road, the handle of Fitcher's sword occasionally brushing some branches.
Despite their somewhat jovial attitude, Fitcher and Circe were both aware that they were in a pinch, having been out of work since Circe went a bit overboard and ended up killing most of their employer's Raid. Fitcher had had to silence their irate employer himself afterwards, managing to take quite a bit of money with him, though with how much the two had to eat in order to support their bodies it wouldn't last much longer.
They would need to find work soon or risk stealing in order to eat, though Fitcher didn't think that Circe would mind so long as she got to kill someone. In all honesty, Fitcher himself wouldn't care either. He took only slightly less pleasure than Circe did in taking a life, regardless of who it was. Maybe that was why the two got along so well. From what he had heard, Circe had killed all her other partners before the two had met. She was quite dangerous for such a small woman.
Not that Fitcher wasn't dangerous himself. His sword had a reputation of being able to cleave a man in half, armor and all, should they be too slow to dodge. The sword was only half of that of course, but Fitcher felt it was better to allow others to assume the sword was the main threat. The easier to catch them off guard after all.
Appearance: Fitcher's Height: 6'6" Circe's Height: 5'3"
Anything Else:? Praise the Mudkip Gods or some such tripe.
Fitcher and Circe are not from the Island, having heard rumors of the Tower and its supposed riches long ago, they made their way to the Island and have been partaking in Raids ever since, with most of the Raids they joined meeting rather gruesome ends.
Their armor provides them with some rather useful abilities at a somewhat steep price. Fitcher's armor is enchanted to allow him to be able to lift and use his giant blade, but is limited to the weapon alone meaning he is NOT capable of throwing boulders or cars.
Circe's armor gives her a maximum of ten seconds access to a spell known as 'Flash Step' a day. The spell must be activated via vocal command and use of the spell leaves the user extremely exhausted to the point of passing out.
Both of the suits of armor also have the side effect of increasing the amount of nourishment required by the wearer, leading to Fitcher and Circe spending most of their gains on food and drink.
Circe is constantly seeking approval and praise from Fitcher, which suits him just fine.
Age: Fitcher: 27
Circe: 23
Gender: FItcher: Male
Circe: Female
Raid: Currently inquiring about joining one.
Backstory: The man behind the counter looked on in growing horror and fascination as the pair sitting in front of him downed more and more bowls of food. Already a crowd had grown outside the shop, peering in thru the doorway to get a better look at the two armed figures. It was, after all, not every day that such interesting people decided they would waltz into town.
The first of the two was rather short, given that her face and figure gave off the impression that she was in her early to mid 20's, with silver hair and red eyes. Her black and red armored suit was of note as well, though so were the two one foot blades and various knives that were strapped and sheathed about her person. Despite her small size, she had already eaten seven bowls of food, the bowls stacked high to her left. She had eaten almost as much as her companion.
The woman's companion was not so short, his head nearly touching the roof of the establishment even while he was sitting. His armor had the same coloring as the woman's, though it looked to be far tougher and heavier. There were a few small objects attached to the armor here and there, but otherwise nothing of interest. The man himself had already devoured nearly eleven bowls; he had had to stack the empty ones in two columns to avoid them from toppling.
The only thing bigger than the man or his appetite was his weapon, a large and rather horrifying sword, far bigger than any normal person should have been able to carry around or even use, though some odd, softly glowing runes dotting the surface of the man's armor raised suspicions
Eventually, once the they had both eaten another 3 bowls, the two stood up and brushed themselves off, the large man leaning over to avoid hitting his head. He tossed the owner of the shop some money and the two made their way out of the shop and down the street. They had been looking for work for some time but were having little in the ways of luck.
"You would think that with all monsters running around in the Tower of late that someone would be looking to hire some bodyguards to protect their sorry asses." the large man, who went by the name Fitcher 'Black', said as he put down his face shield, obscuring his sharp features. The woman, known as Circe, was busy inspecting the tip of one of her wickedly curved knives as they walked.
"Maybe we could disguise ourselves as monsters and slaughter a few Raids." she commented, her tone extremely conversational despite the words that had just exited her mouth, "I'm sure that would start a fire under someones pants." Fitcher gave a small chuckle, something only Circe seemed to ever be able to make him do.
"Have I ever told you how sadistic you are Circe?" Circe gave a small smile that managed to be both warm and bone chilling at the same time.
"Not today no." Fitcher gave another chuckle and the two made their way out of the town and down an empty road, the handle of Fitcher's sword occasionally brushing some branches.
Despite their somewhat jovial attitude, Fitcher and Circe were both aware that they were in a pinch, having been out of work since Circe went a bit overboard and ended up killing most of their employer's Raid. Fitcher had had to silence their irate employer himself afterwards, managing to take quite a bit of money with him, though with how much the two had to eat in order to support their bodies it wouldn't last much longer.
They would need to find work soon or risk stealing in order to eat, though Fitcher didn't think that Circe would mind so long as she got to kill someone. In all honesty, Fitcher himself wouldn't care either. He took only slightly less pleasure than Circe did in taking a life, regardless of who it was. Maybe that was why the two got along so well. From what he had heard, Circe had killed all her other partners before the two had met. She was quite dangerous for such a small woman.
Not that Fitcher wasn't dangerous himself. His sword had a reputation of being able to cleave a man in half, armor and all, should they be too slow to dodge. The sword was only half of that of course, but Fitcher felt it was better to allow others to assume the sword was the main threat. The easier to catch them off guard after all.
Appearance: Fitcher's Height: 6'6" Circe's Height: 5'3"
Click to reveal
Anything Else:? Praise the Mudkip Gods or some such tripe.
Fitcher and Circe are not from the Island, having heard rumors of the Tower and its supposed riches long ago, they made their way to the Island and have been partaking in Raids ever since, with most of the Raids they joined meeting rather gruesome ends.
Their armor provides them with some rather useful abilities at a somewhat steep price. Fitcher's armor is enchanted to allow him to be able to lift and use his giant blade, but is limited to the weapon alone meaning he is NOT capable of throwing boulders or cars.
Circe's armor gives her a maximum of ten seconds access to a spell known as 'Flash Step' a day. The spell must be activated via vocal command and use of the spell leaves the user extremely exhausted to the point of passing out.
Both of the suits of armor also have the side effect of increasing the amount of nourishment required by the wearer, leading to Fitcher and Circe spending most of their gains on food and drink.
Circe is constantly seeking approval and praise from Fitcher, which suits him just fine.
1
-Snip-
