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Found 101 results

  1. Dungeon Master Online In the year 2018 Virtual Reality technology has finally become a reality. By 2023 VR-Helmets became widespread, nearly every teenager in the world owned one, and 2025 marked the release of the first videogame that fully utilized the VRH. MMO developers quickly hoped onto what would be next big development in the MMO market. The world’s very first VRH MMO, Dungeon Crawler Online, was released in 2030. The game had its faults, but the novelty of playing an MMO using the VRH made it extremely popular. The DCO formula was copied and improved upon by many companies, but none of them managed to capture the magic of DCO, until the developers of DCO decided to release a sequel to the game. Dungeon Master Online was announced on the 10 year anniversary of DCO, in 2040, and it immediately went into Closed Beta. The major improvements made in the VR technology over the past 10 years allowed the developers, Sandstorm Entertainment, to create an even better game. After a year of intense Beta Testing, it was finally time to release DMO to the public! As expected millions worldwide purchased the game on its release date and rushed home to play the sequel to their favourite MMO. The sequel was released alongside a brand new, super advanced VRH called the VRH-X. However, minutes after logging in for the first time the millions of players realized that they were unable to log out! This caused mass panic among the players. What the hell is going on!? Background First of all: this game is heavily influenced by .hack, SAO, Log Horizon and similar stories. The idea of being trapped in a digital world was always fascinating and by making this RP set in an online DnD world the game can be very Meta, which makes it easier for me to create NPCs specifically to guide you (since this is more than likely your first time playing DnD). Player Characters will be people playing a High Fantasy MMO called Dungeon Master Online. Yes the name is intentionally dumb as shit. These players are all stuck in an online world with no means of being safely disconnecting (being pulled out of the VRH-X without shutting it down properly fries their brains). It was quickly revealed that dying in this game also makes the VRH-X fry their brain, leading to their death in the real world. Now fully aware of how dangerous their situation really is the players have to find a way to escape this digital world! The world of DMO is hyper realistic. Every NPC has been programmed with sophisticated AI to accurately replicate human behavior; they are even able to hold conversations with PCs. Time and weather work exactly the same way as they do in the real world. PCs get hungry and tired and have to eat and rest in order to operate optimally. Meanwhile in the real world the millions of DMO players were moved to several hospitals. This way doctors could oversee them while they are stuck in the game and make sure that the players don’t do in real life due to malnourishment or any other cause. Sandstorm Entertainment, however, has vanished without a trace. All its employees were either found dead or not found at all. No one knows who has done this, but many suspect the Director (Robert Morhaime) to have been behind this. Game Type The RP will be run with Dungeons and Dragons 4E rules. This RP will be closed at a max of 5 PCs, if any of these PCs drop out during the campaign, others may take their place. Ideally this 5 man party would consist of a Defender, a Leader, two Strikers and a Controller. (EDIT: Actually, we could have a 6th PC. Would make the first campaign easy, so I'd have to tune it up a bit, but it shouldn't be a probem.) Remember, if you're joining this RP it's expected that you either participate until the end of an Adventure or find a way to drop your character from the story. Create a character sheet here, feel free to use the character creation and basic D&DG guide here. If you need help creating a character, feel free to PM me. When creating your character you should follow the standard rules of DnD. Ability scores will be generated using method 2: Method 2, Customized: again you are given 6 numbers; 8, 10, 10, 10, 10 and 10, and 22 extra points you are free to divide among the stats. Depending on how your stats are, the points per score ratio could increase. For example: Raising a stat from 10 to 13 costs 3 points (1 point per score), but raising it an extra level to 14 costs 2 extra points. A table with the costs will be added to the bottom. I won’t be using a board for this RP, since it is supposed to be text based, but I will provide you with a map of the areas you’re exploring and during encounters I’ll provide you with a map with the layout of the battlefield, your position and the positions of the enemy. You don’t have to strictly abide by your characters speed score, but use it as a point of reference when it comes to how far your PC can get in one turn. Player Characters Group A: Wahad (Cha'ac, Warden, Defender)Noia (Iris, Cleric, Leader)DayDreamer (Solitude, Rogue, Striker)DragonGuard (Amroth, Ranger, Striker)TriOctium (Quarius, Wizard, Controller) Non-Player Characters FaeronWinterhaven- Quests Kill the Goblins in the Dwarvan goldmine. - Find the remains of the 4 adventurers.Kill the bandits in the Silver Keep. - Find the signet ring and deliver it to Valthrun. or - Find the signet ring and deliver it to Ernest Padraig. Maps Varuna World MapMitra ContinentWinterhaven Major Events -- Changelog
  2. R Pantheon

    discussion Late summer heat, the sort that made one long for the frosted gusts of winter. Sweltering and damp, with only a warm breeze for relief. Unsurprisingly, the new students of Pantheon Academy looked sweaty and miserable as they flooded out of the buses. It had been hours from the airport, and they were all exhausted, hungry, and hot. The scent of the sea lingered somewhere in the air, but with the smog of heat upon them, it was difficult to tell from which direction the sea might have been. The misery left the students quickly, however, when they caught sight of what waited beyond the fastigiate cypresses. Through a shrubbery-bathed gateway and following the neat stone pathway was an immense building, Mediterranean in style, with earthen tiles on the shallow roof, and beige stucco walls. With its long arcades, arched windows, and smaller cypresses along the colonnades, it looked more like a mansion than a school. Prefects led the new students up the long pathway and into the front park, filled in on all sides by exquisite greenery. There was an immense archway cut into the central feature of the academy, a round tower of sorts. Through the archway was a shaded portico, home to the main entryway. The aged wooden doors were wide open to welcome the students, surrounded on both sides by potted fan palms and a marble statue of a satyr offering grapes. Inside was a huge entrance hall with a towering, roaring fountain in its very center. A rush of cool air met the group, fresh and relieving in comparison to the humid summer they had just stepped in from. Surrounding the fountain, an elegant double staircase wound upwards along the circular hall. The ceiling boasted glass skylights that filtered in the sunlight, inflaming the whole of the hall with a warm and surreal glow. Before the fountain, a distinctive figure awaited the group with a smile. Relatively tall but nothing so giant that it betrayed his superhuman blood, his long hair looked like spun gold in the sunlight from above. He wore a simple ensemble: clean white shirt, black tie, and double-breasted waistcoat. His eyes, the color of honey, regarded the students as they all tried—and failed—to stop their astonished gawking at the paradise that was to be their new school. "Welcome to Pantheon," the man said, his lipped smile widening into a steady grin. His voice was just as honeyed as his eyes, elegant and deep, with just the fairest hint of a French accent from long ago. "My apologies if you expected Chancellor Hera to greet you, but she's out on business at the moment. I am your vice-chancellor, Alexis de Ste-Croix." "Apollo." The student who mumbled it suddenly covered her mouth as that hawk-like gaze turned sharply onto her. But the vice-chancellor merely laughed softly. "That's right. I know my name is a bit of a mouthful, so feel free to simply address me as sir, chancellor, or even just the VC." He turned to one side, clasping his hands gently before his chest, his fingertips kissing as he silently remembered what he wanted to say. "Returning students arrived yesterday. After the prefects have taken you to your rooms to settle in, please join us for dinner. No rush. Take it all in; this is your new home, after all." Smiling once more, he bowed his head slightly to the prefects, who wrangled up the newbies to take them into the west wing, where the dormitories were located.
  3. [ ROLEPLAY THREAD ] P L O T Welcome to Camp Half-Blood Hogwarts Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters Pantheon Academy. This isn't your ordinary private high school. Pantheon is a haven for special students with superhuman abilities, because well, these students are a little more than human. Pantheon students are incarnations of Greek gods. Y O U Select from the Greek pantheon of gods. Yes, they're gods, but they're new to their abilities and need some training. They have weaknesses, too. Like the fact that they're teenagers (aaaaahhh!!!). Age is anywhere from 16 to 19. You're a student with a "normal" name (you weren't born with the one-namer Ares, for example). I may play a teaching character just to have someone around for guidance. O B J E C T I V E S • Coming to terms with the fact that they're gods and they have mutant godly powers • High school dramarz • Greater threats that force them to work together despite differences T E C H N I C A L • 4 more people max. Two slots already reserved (see below). • Express your interest here and a god or gods you may want to play (only one in the end though). Peruse this list if you're at a loss. • IMPORTANT: Please only sign up if you can post often. I'm tired of waiting a week for posts; I lose interest really fast if no one posts. Making this short and sweet 'cause people are lazy and I'm looking for a light, fun RP. Need any more details? Then ask away. It's not super fleshed out yet so most stuff is up for molding and changing. C H A R A C T E R S 1. Apollo - Miel 2. Hades - Meheres 3. Artemis - ErogenousEnigma 4. Hephaestus (Vulcan) - Demonic Gate 5. Ares - Kyo 6. Aphrodite - Pain
  4. The After

    It's sort of funny, when you think about it. We all thought it would be something other than what it turned out to be. The popular ones were economic collapse and shifting of the Earth's magnetic poles. How those two gained such a following, I have no idea. As far as I was concerned, zombies seemed just as likely as anything else. I guess, if you really think about it, they were all perfectly plausible theories. The only problem was that they were perfectly plausible theories that no one paid any attention to. In the end, it was climate change that got us. Climate change. You're thinking, 'Climate change? Seriously? Come on Karma, you can do better than that.' Honestly, I wish I could say that it was zombies. But the truth is that scarier than hordes of the undead is the kind of chaos that follows after someone sees ice on an orange in Florida. One minute you're just walking to your job, the next minute there's the National Guard rolling up on Main Street telling you that water and gasoline are being rationed and that in order to maintain peace martial law has been declared. Ho baby, I wish you could've seen it. Peace my ass. The second someone decided to use the words 'martial' and 'law' in the same sentence, I should've known we were fucked. But it took me until the water shortages to really believe that something bad was happening. After we sucked the Great Lakes dry and science still hadn't figured out a way to distill sea water fast enough to distribute it to the population, people started to act a little crazy. No one trusted anyone else. It was every man for himself, steal or be stolen from, kill or be killed. Pretty brutal stuff, if I do say so myself. The kind of stuff that you usually only saw in movies. And the government? God, what a joke. Some people remained who believed that the government would come to our rescue, but those people were few and far between. For the most part, everyone understood that once the grocery stores stopped getting restocked and once the paychecks stopped coming, we wouldn't be able to count on anyone other than ourselves. Fortunately, the news programs remained running just long enough for us to get a picture of what was going on in the rest of the world. One word resonated throughout every report, and its three letters were deceptively unassuming: b-a-d. Bad in Russia. Awful in China. Even worse in the Middle East. With violence and destruction everywhere and not even a whisper of a safe place, we had no choice but to turn our TVs off and focus on what was happening at home. Not that it mattered. The news stations went down soon after. I'd like to say that there was a defining moment in which the world went from being "normal" to being the Hell-hole that it is now. But it was more like the rapid decline from sanity to madness. In less than a month, all of society's schizophrenic tendancies and hysteria surfaced and took control. Its rational mind was supressed to the point of extinction, leaving unforgiving nothingness in its wake. Now, all that remains of what the world used to be are skeletons of cities; a flawless infrastructure whose sole purpose is to facilitate the travel of maurauders. These people -- among whose ranks I can be counted, much to my chagrin -- are the few survivors of this world who are able to live only by taking from others. We can scavange most of what we need, but sometimes that isn't quite enough. And when that happens, we'll do whatever we have to. We'll hurt. We'll mame. We'll even kill. But above all of that, we survive. And I think, if you could see the way I'm trying to live, I think you would be able to understand. I need to survive, because if I don't...well, I just need to. The year is 2157*. My name is not Karma, but that's what I'll be called because that is the name that defines who I am now. I'm writing all of this down with the hopes that when you read it, whoever you are, everything that I experience will bring you one step closer to surviving The After. *see below reply for date clarification ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hello everyone! So, obviously this (what I have above) is your standard, post-apocalyptic wasteland. Beyond that, though, I haven't really developed it much. Don't take that to mean that I don't have any idea about where I'd like the plot to go, because I do, but it also means that I'm open to whatever ideas you're willing to bring to the table. Thus far I've kept my ideas restricted primarily to humans and human-like activity, but if you want to introduce any sort of humanoid or cyborg or anything else that one would expect to see in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, I'm definitely willing to accommodate that! What I'm looking for right now is a partner or two who are willing to bring their OCs into this universe to operate in the "present," which would be the future in relation to what I have posted above. Preferably, there would be no interaction between my character and the characters who are introduced until the very end of the roleplay at which point I had envisioned some sort of fateful, emotional meeting that ended in violence and bloodshed. But, like my openness to altering the specifics of the universe, I'm open to altering the plot too. My ideas are far from set in stone, and I'm more than willing to listen to the ideas of anyone who's interested in this. It's been a little while since my last roleplay so I'm a bit rusty, but I promise that a post or two will see me knocking out replies like the best of them. I'll have my expectations for post length and what have you listed under the classifieds soon enough, and I'm hoping to get a profile of Karma up within the next week or two. If you're interested, feel free to message me and I'll throw you my contact information so we can discuss this in a little more detail. Thanks for letting me talk at you guys! I hope you're interested! Sara
  5. Dungeon Master Online In the year 2018 Virtual Reality technology has finally become a reality. By 2023 VR-Helmets became widespread, nearly every teenager in the world owned one, and 2025 marked the release of the first videogame that fully utilized the VRH. MMO developers quickly hoped onto what would be next big development in the MMO market. The world’s very first VRH MMO, Dungeon Crawler Online, was released in 2030. The game had its faults, but the novelty of playing an MMO using the VRH made it extremely popular. The DCO formula was copied and improved upon by many companies, but none of them managed to capture the magic of DCO, until the developers of DCO decided to release a sequel to the game. Dungeon Master Online was announced on the 10 year anniversary of DCO, in 2040, and it immediately went into Closed Beta. The major improvements made in the VR technology over the past 10 years allowed the developers, Sandstorm Entertainment, to create an even better game. After a year of intense Beta Testing, it was finally time to release DMO to the public! As expected millions worldwide purchased the game on its release date and rushed home to play the sequel to their favourite MMO. The sequel was released alongside a brand new, super advanced VRH called the VRH-X. However, minutes after logging in for the first time the millions of players realized that they were unable to log out! This caused mass panic among the players. What the hell is going on!? Background First of all: this game is heavily influenced by .hack, SAO, Log Horizon and similar stories. The idea of being trapped in a digital world was always fascinating and by making this RP set in an online DnD world the game can be very Meta, which makes it easier for me to create NPCs specifically to guide you (since this is more than likely your first time playing DnD). Player Characters will be people playing a High Fantasy MMO called Dungeon Master Online. Yes the name is intentionally dumb as shit. These players are all stuck in an online world with no means of being safely disconnecting (being pulled out of the VRH-X without shutting it down properly fries their brains). It was quickly revealed that dying in this game also makes the VRH-X fry their brain, leading to their death in the real world. Now fully aware of how dangerous their situation really is the players have to find a way to escape this digital world! The world of DMO is hyper realistic. Every NPC has been programmed with sophisticated AI to accurately replicate human behavior; they are even able to hold conversations with PCs. Time and weather work exactly the same way as they do in the real world. PCs get hungry and tired and have to eat and rest in order to operate optimally. Meanwhile in the real world the millions of DMO players were moved to several hospitals. This way doctors could oversee them while they are stuck in the game and make sure that the players don’t do in real life due to malnourishment or any other cause. Sandstorm Entertainment, however, has vanished without a trace. All its employees were either found dead or not found at all. No one knows who has done this, but many suspect the Director (Robert Morhaime) to have been behind this. Game Type The RP will be run with Dungeons and Dragons 4E rules. This RP will be closed at a max of 5 PCs, if any of these PCs drop out during the campaign, others may take their place. Ideally this 5 man party would consist of a Defender, a Leader, two Strikers and a Controller. (EDIT: Actually, we could have a 6th PC. Would make the first campaign easy, so I'd have to tune it up a bit, but it shouldn't be a probem.) Remember, if you're joining this RP it's expected that you either participate until the end of an Adventure or find a way to drop your character from the story. Create a character sheet here, feel free to use the character creation and basic D&DG guide here. If you need help creating a character, feel free to PM me. When creating your character you should follow the standard rules of DnD. Ability scores will be generated using method 2: Method 2, Customized: again you are given 6 numbers; 8, 10, 10, 10, 10 and 10, and 22 extra points you are free to divide among the stats. Depending on how your stats are, the points per score ratio could increase. For example: Raising a stat from 10 to 13 costs 3 points (1 point per score), but raising it an extra level to 14 costs 2 extra points. A table with the costs will be added to the bottom. I won’t be using a board for this RP, since it is supposed to be text based, but I will provide you with a map of the areas you’re exploring and during encounters I’ll provide you with a map with the layout of the battlefield, your position and the positions of the enemy. You don’t have to strictly abide by your characters speed score, but use it as a point of reference when it comes to how far your PC can get in one turn. Player Characters Group B: rubberrazors (Jemi, Fighter, Defender)Kyo (Bhaskan, Warlord, Leader)Val (Ash, Rogue, Striker)DemonicGate (Serafinn, Sorcerer, Striker)Asura (Cha'tril, Binder, Controller) Non-Player Characters FaeronWinterhaven- Quests Kill the Goblins in the Dwarvan goldmine. - Find the remains of the 4 adventurers.Kill the bandits in the Silver Keep. - Find the signet ring and deliver it to Valthrun. or - Find the signet ring and deliver it to Ernest Padraig. Maps Varuna World MapMitra ContinentWinterhaven Major Events - Changelog
  6. A Tale of Two Sisters (HH & Ero)

    Link to story: http://www.surreality-rp.com/topic/441-a-tale-of-two-sisters/ This is a story between HerculeHastings and myself. It is loosely based of the game "Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons" where our characters will go trapezeing across the land trying to find a cure for our ill mother. We are undecided on race but looking at a variation of halfling/hobbit. Ideas for issues along travels. Kidnapped. Invited into house and are almost eaten by (insert mean race here). Saving (a) pixie(s) and reuniting her with her sisters. Saving a mermaid from something... (Pirates! I'm so not above snatching ideas from other things) Mercy kill(someone or thing already dying) Since this story is not so much about the destination as it is about the journey I hope to write out a timeline of sorts and will post it here.
  7. It has been about an hour since the DMO servers finally opened and were immediately flooded by hapless gamers. Many were too scared to venture out into the world and decided to remain safely in the confines of their starting Town to avoid being killed by monster or Player Killer alike. Not all of the duped were craven; slowly groups started pouring out of the Towns in every direction, hoping that undertaking quests with allies would relieve some of the danger. Our adventure begins in the rural Town of Winterhaven, a starting area known for being one of the smallest Towns in Varuna, being home to but a few NPCs. Surrounded by the Silver Sea, the Alares mountain range and the Fall. One group of adventurers sick of inaction has recently formed within the walls of this town. Five victims of circumstance have found each other and decided to work together to get find a way to get rid of this dreaded world. Jemi the Human Fighter, Bhaskan the Dragonborn Warlord, Ash the Eladrin Rogue, Serafinn the Human Sorcerer and Cha'tril the Dragonborn Binder have formed their first party in the middle of Winterhaven’s Market Square. Now it is time for them to set out and find their first quest!
  8. Monday, April 1st, 2013. Today was the first day of his second year of High School, yet he chose to spend it in his bed instead of waking up early and preparing accordingly. *Bzzzt* His vibrating phone revealed that it was now time for him to get up, pressing the snooze button three times in a row was the limit or else he’d miss the opening ceremony. Sigh, no time to waste. He got up out of his bed and opened the large closet directly next to it to grab a towel and a bag with his toiletries. Kamiya Masahiro would be spending his second year just like the first one, in the Varuhara Hall. Despite the small size of his dorm room, it was large enough to fit in a bed, a closet, a desk, a small coffee table and there was still room to spare for an old CRT TV. All things considered Masahiro had nothing to complain about. Other than maybe the other inhabitants of the dorm, they could get on his nerves sometimes. Masahiro stepped out of his room, still dressed in nothing but his boxers and tank-top and dragged himself towards the second floor’s common bathroom to brush his teeth. He stared into the reflection of his own green in mirror, as if trying to confirm that he was still as handsome as yesterday. He sure was. Spit. He glanced at his hair, wondering whether he should do something about it, but decided that for now he’d go with an out of bed look. Also made mornings a lot easier. Back in his room he jumped into the black trousers, white dress shirt. He quickly configured his shiraz red, striped tie and threw on his black blazer, with a white outer edge on the lapels and pockets, that the school demanded all students wore. Another peek at his phone. Damn. He had to get his ass in gear or he’d be late for the opening ceremony. Without saying a word to check whether anyone else was still in the Varuhara Hall he sprinted towards the front door, put on his shoes and ran towards the school. Luckily school was in walking distance. As Masahiro stepped into the gymnasium the bell rang and all the students went towards his seat. Slightly out of breath and without a clue what class he was sorted in this year Masahiro stood in between the endless rows of chairs, looking from the left to the right hoping he’d find anyone who knew what class he was in. “Masahiro-kun! Over here.†Luuuuuucky!
  9. The Genesis Era

    It was a hot day. Large crowds of foreign dignitaries milled into the stadium, eagerly chattering away in anticipation of the show that was about to be performed in front of their very eyes. Soldiers in towering suits of metal and kevlar stood by the various entrances, hefting impressive guns as a warning to anyone who might threaten to disturb the peace. It was of utmost importance that nothing went wrong today, for it was the unveiling of the United States's latest superweapon to the world. ExoSuit ESX-58, "Spectre". It had been nearly 15 years since the megacorporation, FutureTech Industries, revealed the first ExoSuit. Even back then, it was an astounding breakthrough in technology, providing innumerable advantages to the average soldier. Super strength, enhanced battlefield awareness and invulnerability to conventional firearms were three of its numerous selling points. The ExoSuit changed the landscape of war, rendering traditional strategies and weaponry useless. The US and Chinese militaries imported vast numbers of these ExoSuits, hoping to equip every soldier with one by the year 2050. Since then, there have been countless improvements made to the original ExoSuit, with each country going on its own developmental path to create their unique breed of super soldier. Demonstrations such as these were a show of might, a way of waging war without harming lives. Deterrence, in a way. That was the reason why so many world leaders were gathered at Phoenix, Arizona to witness the demonstration this day. It would take a fool to interrupt such a heavily-guarded event. "AS-08X, Seraph Excalibur, in position. Operation Ghostbuster will commence in T-minus 10 seconds. 9. 8. 7..." As the applause from the audience began to fill the air, a lone figure moved out of the shadows and approached the entrance to the grand stadium. It resembled an ExoSuit in a way, but its features were more sleek, almost alien-like. Streaks of blue light trailed behind the suit reminiscent of wings, and the suit hovered in the air, its feet just a few inches off the ground. The guards on duty raised their gauss rifles, training them upon the newcomer with honed lethality. "Halt! Identify yourself!" One of them spoke, as he slowly approached the figure. The other seemed to be speaking into a microphone, presumably calling for reinforcements. The figure halted, allowing the soldier to reach within arms' length. "Turn around and put your hands up- hey!" Moving faster than the eye could see, the Seraph Excalibur darted to the right as the soldier in the ES-22 "Gallant" suit fired off a few rounds, turning around to follow its movements. As the soldier raised his gun, there was a flash and an arc of light, and then his arm lay severed on the ground, the gauss rifle landing with a great crash. He barely had time to scream, however, as the next slash took his head cleanly off, leaving him to kneel down and collapse in a pool of blood. "Mayday! Mayday! Unknown hostile at entrance 15! We need backup- AAARGGHH!" The Seraph Excalibur pulled the plasma blade out of the soldier's abdomen, dropping his corpse onto the ground with a lazy action. "Going in," the man in the suit whispered. The whole stadium was in disarray now, as the sounds of the battle outside reached some of the audience. More soldiers were running here and there, evidently attempting to control the situation as they dispatched more men to the scene. Their reactions were too slow. The Seraph Excalibur flew into the middle of the stage, where the new suit was located. The Spectre. To the pilot's credit, he seemed pretty calm despite all the confusion in the area. As the newcomer floated down to meet him, he raised a large pistol and pointed it straight at his forehead. "I don't know who you are, buddy, but you picked the wrong place to make a scene," he declared. "By doing this, you have incurred the wrath of the entire United States upon yourself. Not that you'll be alive for much longer. I am, after all, Richard Stone, one of America's ace pilots, in my country's most advanced ExoSuit. I don't know how your magic suit can maintain propulsion for so long, but it's not going to save you from me." About twenty guns were trained on him at this point of time, with the soldiers forming a wide arc around the dome-shaped stage. "... You're noisy." A vein popped in Richard's head. "What did you say?! Who the hell do you think you are anyway?!" His finger pulled the trigger- The Seraph had weaved to the side, a plasma blade extending from each hand as it advanced upon his adversary. Immediately, every soldier on the scene opened fire, but not a single shot found its mark. Whether by skill or ungodly luck, the Seraph was moving in fluid motions that avoided each bullet as it approached, rapidly advancing upon the Spectre as it tried to retreat to gain distance. Impossible, Richard thought, as he emptied his pistol's magazine at him in vain. Such speed! It's as though he can see where I'm going to fire... With a burst of light, the Seraph appeared next to him in an instant. Richard barely had time to react, whipping his hand away as the MC-198 Magnum he was holding dropped to the ground in pieces. He swore, reaching for the next weapon- but he felt a searing pain and a violent shock, and then he noticed the gaping hole where his arm was supposed to be. A hand grabbed him by the neck, and he felt himself being raised up into the air as it became difficult to breathe... He noticed the firing had stopped. Did someone else take out the soldiers? But Richard had more pressing matters at hand, as he struggled to wrestle himself free from the Seraph's iron grip. He realized the whole stadium had become silent, as all eyes were fixated on the scene in the center of the stage. The Seraph reached over to his suit, plucking out the microphone that was attached to the stadium's loudspeakers and moved it to his mouth. "I am Vengeance." And then he snapped Richard's neck.
  10. A casual RP between myself, Kyo and Seanzilla, PersonaX: Fear House of Amatsusangaku will focus around a "haunted" house in town! Weird creatures and ghosts sightings have been popping up and many people seem to be strangely affected by it. It's up to our heroes to investigate it! In the town of Amatsusangaku, a long abandoned house has been the center of much controversy. Murder, mystery and monsters, rumors has constantly surrounded the house for well over a decade. All rumors of course, right? Our heroes are seeing something different however. Perhaps they were the only ones who knew or the only one who could do anything about it, but they recognize that something much more than silly rumors had to be stopped from this house before it ruined their town for good. "Mecahnics"The House plays on your deepest fears. While you may think that it might just be sharks and tall buildings, the House cares more about the more psychological and personal ones.Just because you're not near the House doesn't mean you're safe from it. It has a habit of finding a way into, say, your room.Our heroes use their deepest fears, usually traumatic events, to summon their personas. I think it'd be a good idea to include a great fear and deep fear when creating your characters. Great fears would be things like sharks and tall buildings while deep fears were stated above.The House may appear as a great fear or something unrelated entirely, but the meaning is still there with ATLUS METAPHORSFURTHER DEVELOPMENTsetting!how do we all know each other/why are our characters involved??????PERSONATHE BAD KINDA THINGS THAT DOES THE BAD STUFF
  11. He needed her. Thirsted for her charming smiles and pretty laughs. Delicate and sweet, always turning her admiring gaze onto him like no one else existed in her world. Thor couldn't recall—had anyone ever looked at him like that? No, no. No one was like Jane. Perhaps father couldn't understand what made this maiden of Midgard so special, but Thor knew. That was all that mattered. It was just the two of them, in a realm of their shared affection, a tenth realm of unadulterated love. At least that was how he liked to think of it. Jane had her life on Earth, things she needed to do without the distraction of a lightning-wielding god. So Thor willingly—but oh-so-painfully—held back, watching her from a distance as he patrolled the nine worlds. Time and time again he found himself here in Midgard, his attentions locked in tunnel vision. Jane wasn't the only one with a life to live and tasks to carry out, however, so Thor had to move on as well. He always came back, though. Currently he sat in that painful state of being there, but not there. Not with her. Perched on the roof of a tall building across the street from Jane's workplace, he watched her through the full-length windows. She was at her best when she worked, beautiful when the cogs in her head turned at breakneck speed. Tonight, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that he too was being watched. Jane definitely hadn't noticed him, not swathed in the shadows of a new moon. Thor raised his head, his vibrant blue eyes scanning the darkness for some sign of a tail. Nothing but night and the comforting sound of a city after sundown. Below, cars still filled the streets like a thousand boats in an asphalt river. Not one of them seemed suspicious. Ah, but he had many things on his mind lately. It was difficult not to be on edge when you were travelling between realms, fighting battles and dealing with untrustworthy characters. Untrustworthy... like his brother. A sudden flood of sadness filled his features. Even now, watching his beloved, the mere thought of Loki filled Thor with countless regrets. If I had done something differently. If I had just done this, if I had just said that. Then everything would be different. Everything would be all right and we could be brothers again. A deep sigh welled up in his lungs and burst forth into the night in the form of a pale cloud. "Brother," he mused quietly to the night, "if only I could have fixed this all." Fixed it, the way he had always fixed things for Loki when they were young. But this was a problem he simply didn't know how to fix, not with brawn nor with charm.
  12. Equo Above Us

    Name: Izel Age: 23 Gender: Female Elf Hair Color: Half Lilac | Half Violet Eye Color: Golden Height: 5'6"
  13. The boy shot up, sucking in a large amount of air, his mind being startled awake from a deep unconsciousness. The sudden movement jostled his head and upset his stomach. Quickly noting that a simple hand over his mouth wasn't going to cut it, he immediately retched over the side of the bed and vomited onto the steel floor. He glared at his mess through blurry eyes, as if demanding it told him why it even existed. His head hurt so bad, his limbs were tenderly sore, and his throat was on fire. Absently moving his jaw, tasting the sour and salty taste of his own bile, he laid back down onto the stiff, springless mattress of his cell. It was abundantly clear that trying to do much of anything in his current state was only going to spell bad news. But that brought up a pretty good question: where was he? First, start off with the basics. Who was he? Well that was simple. The star soccer player and all around awesome guy, Davis Motomiya. Leader of the Digidestined. Keeper of the DigiEggs of Courage and Kindness. When did he get here? He guessed he'd been here for less than a few hours. Carefully, he checked his pockets, his body still relaxed and his eyes still closed, searching for his two important devices--the Digivice and D-Terminal. Nothing. Not being the type to wear watches--especially ones that kept track of days--who knew how long he had been out. It could have been overnight or even a couple of days. What was he doing in the Digital World? That's where things started to get fuzzy. It had something to do with the Digimon Emperor--these days it always did. They were somewhere on File Island. It was cold? No, maybe it was hot? A little bit of both? The group of Digidestined consisting of himself, Yolei, Cody, Kari, and T.K. were continuing to demolish control spires, just like they had been doing for several weeks, and then they ran into the Emperor. He remembered falling and rolling, all along hitting things on his way down. Ah, well at least the pain started to make sense now. Where was he? He opened his eyes slowly, the pain behind his eyes flaring up, even when the dull light of his cell touched them. He was obviously in a prison of some sort. When it came to the Digital World, that could mean only one thing--he had been captured by the Emperor. Placing an arm over his eyes he groaned slightly. How did he let that one happen? He couldn't remember. The only answer he could think of was the he had been knocked out by the fall. It's the only way he would ever let Ken touch him, that bastard. What a coward, he thought. So... How could he get out? He could hear footsteps coming down the hallway. They were getting louder, though they were taking their time to make their way down. Tap tap tap. Pause. Tap tap tap. Longer pause. Each auditory disturbance made his head ring, but he needed to see who it was. If it was a digimon, he might be able to convince him to let him go or at least distract it in some way. If it was the Emperor... Well, he had some choice words he'd like to share with his new friend. Davis weakly but very carefully sat back up in bed, making sure every part of his body was relatively undisturbed as he did so. He stepped one boot into his sick and grumpily rolled his eyes. "Come on..." he muttered. From the corner of his eye, he could see somebody was at the cell door. He quickly disregarded his misfortune and stood up, swaying and stumbling forward a few steps until finally he got his bearings. Walking clumsily to the bars of the cell, he looked down at the Gotsumon on the other side, a dark ring emitting a pale red glow around its neck. "Food." It said, sliding a tray of slop through a horizontal slot in the center of the cell door. Davis didn't take his eyes off the digimon, and he made no movement to take the offer. "Where's Ken." "Food." The digimon said again, impatiently shaking the tray, causing bits of slop to spill onto the floor. Davis leaned on the bars, feeling another wave of nauseous overcoming him. "Where's Ken." He glared at the digimon, who had taken to glaring back. "The Master doesn't wish to speak to you. Enjoy your meal." The Gotsumon released the tray, the sharp sound of metal hitting metal ringing throughout the cell. Davis stumbled back away from the bars holding his head. He tripped onto the bed and cried out. The Gotsumon laughed and continued on with his rounds. Once the ringing subsided from his ears, he began to realize he wasn't going to get anything done until he was feeling better. He sighed, frustrated at his own weakness, and closed his eyes again to rest. He had to wait until his enemy showed up before the real fun began, anyway.
  14. PG-13 After Beta:

    Humans have reigned since the dawn of time and have evolved and prospered with the unrealistic idea of equality is obtainable by all. This of course is far from the truth. Power and rivalry between nations have cause conflicts. Instigating wars across the world. Somehow in this chaotic world of ours, some get to live luxurious lives, whilst others get to live the complete opposite. Kisa Lesse sighed as she glanced down towards the book section of the shopping mall. She was accompanying her friends as an extra. It was an average day, for Kisa Lesse. Kisa's hair was short and curled at the ends naturally. She had brown hair that was parted to both sides of her face and fell to her shoulders. She was about to graduate from college and was aimless in every way possible. She held her mobile phone beside her mouth. Kisa wasn't that up to date with technology as she liked, so her mobile phone held scars on the edges from the countless times she had dropped it. The purple backing remained there but the edges had been damaged. It was a miracle it was still in proper working order her orange haired friend standing next to her said. "Yes, I've been meaning to get a new one... but I've never gotten around to it." Another friend of Kisa's picked on this remark and with a chuckle said they needed to catch another bus. This friend of hers this time had dark brown hair that was tied up in a ponytail. "Yes, see you until the world ends!" Kisa said this jokingly. Kisa had always said this to her friends and companions in the slightest hope that it did. As they parted she let the warm grin on her fate fade into a heartening smile, then Kisa breathed in a heavy sigh shuffled to find something of interest in the electronics section. Kisa liked to play online games as the next person but she had found a fondness in MMORPG's. She had recently picked up a new release. It was a game that originated from the manga "Bleach". She enjoyed making her Shinigami strong and gave a detailed description of what the Shinigami character looked like on the forums. Deep in thought Kisa had started to day dream about the people she had met... but something woke her up from this day dream. The ground shook. "W-Wah!" Kisa feel to the floor on one knee she regained her stability, her eyes fluttered to clerks trying to return the electronic computers and mobile devices to normal. The screens were flickering from black to white and the sound... well the sound was unusual and was like... an opening to a broadcast? Kisa became alert as tremor had subsided, but nothing was damaged. An ominous and deep dark voice started to echo. You couldn't get away from it. Coming from every means of communications. Including her mobile phone. "Dear Humanity, We are an organisation built upon the collaborations of ideas and of hope. We can stop hunger. We can stop illness, but it is theoretically impossible to stop suffering. We understand that some of you might turn to insanity as your crutch. We understand that some of you might also turn on each other and on yourselves. We are currently living in a time called Beta, in which Humanity death is assured just as tax. In a matter of moment we will pause Humanity's ageing cycle completely. We use the term pause loosely, as The World will allow you to change your physical structure and abilities within literal seconds. We can't promise that you will be unable to die, but if you will it, you can live for eternity. Humanity will be unable to reproduce, those who are currently pregnant will continue to age using Beta for a one year. Their Children will then age to 21 when they will by default, stop ageing. Those of you under the age of 5 will also age to 21 by default. We Nexus, will bring about the new order, The World." The transmission ended shutting off every single communication device that was broadcasting. "W-What. What was that." Kisa straightened herself out as she turned on her mobile phone. It felt different. Kisa's mobile internal design and features were completely altered. A long list of all the online game she had played on ranging from the amount of playtime largest to smallest was the first thing she caught sight of, and a new inbox feature that combined all her messages from various places. The next thing she noticed was her profile. Of course her name was shortened to Kisa Lesse... but there were added names from all the online games she had played, along with selection options to "equip" them. Kisa's full name was "Kisa Aria Shortcake 44puppy BladeXXX Lesse". Kisa's faced drained. Wait it actually drained. She just used an emoticon and it effected her facial features in a most humorous way. "Wha-What the hell is happening!!" Kisa was excited but at the same time freaked out. A strand of her hair fell out of place as she had a burning feeling in her back. Kisa's eyes were sullen and she began to whimper. Kisa straightened herself with a sigh and turned on her heel to come face to face with a virus. Kisa tried to hide the hesitation in her voice, unfortunately this made her voice sound high an squeaky. "Well hello there!" The virus took the form of a horse. Kisa thought this was a connection to the internet Virus known as Trojan. The Virus was overflowing with raw and broken data from the eyes, hooves and tail. It heaved and made sounds that resembled horse sounds but... more digitalised. Kisa cleared her throat as she tried to make herself look more threatening, which was virtually impossible. "Could I take a phone call first before you kill me?" Kisa was afraid. Very afraid. More than any kind of afraid she had felt in her entire life. That freaky broadcast didn't help. Kisa wanted to run. To scream. To shout. She was starting to feel like prey staring at a wild tiger before getting slaughtered. She couldn't move.
  15. This is a private RP between Skie and myself. The story circles around two dancers kidnapped and brought to a new world and their struggle to adapt and escape. My character is as follows. I do have photos just to assist those you need more then just a description. Name: Rhinona Vestnyr Age: Appears early 20’s really like late 90’s though (years work differently) Race/Species: Originates from a planet known as Firsynt but the race is similar to elves Appearance:looks like this --like that with pointed ears House outfit Dance outfits – example1 and example2 all will be similar in style to these given her people’s dance History: Born and raised on Firsynt Rhinona doesn’t know much of the outside world. She has an older brother and her mother and father. Being extremely gifted as a dancer many times Rhinona is chosen to perform the festival dances and the ceremonial dances. She is taken from her home planet to be a dancer for an unknown master of the house. She has been taken because of the exoticness of her people’s dance which follows similar lines of belly dancing. Personality: Cautious at first but extremely trusting of those who have earned it, loyal, quite opinionated but slow to voice her opinions, soft spoken and extremely determined to the point of challenging at times
  16. The ground was shaking. Through the open door, the scent of carbonic combustion congested the air. The ground rumbled again, groaning restlessly like a sleepy giant. Next to me, the youngest of us tried to re-balance himself, his tail flinging wildly like a metronome--missing every beat as the floor bent and cracked until he finally fell to his knees. Extraordinary sounds amplified through the small room, mimicking the sound we often heard when an enhancement machine broke a fuse. I placed my hands over my ears and walked out into the frame of the doorway. I heard the youngest of us say something, but I could not understand him. It was different. It was strangely pleasant. Ribbons of red energy rippled across the blue sky. Like an electrical current, it struck anything with a positive charge, moving with much grace and unpredictability. Small pebbles from the door frame fell onto my head, onto my clothes, and jumped at my feet. The warmth of the fire clung to my skin. I felt the youngest of us grab the end of my tail for support. Red. Everything was red. I took a few more steps from the doorway and surveyed my surroundings. The others were also scouting for answers to the recent disturbance. We all seemed to catch the others gazes in hopes for some answers, or at least for some clues. Colony structures far off were screaming, crumbling, and then plummeting hundreds of feet to Terra's deserted plains. I began to realize the uneasy swaying of our own structure, as the ribbons continued to strike our cousins down. The small encampment of Bran Bal was ablaze in an auburn glow. It was pleasant. The youngest of us made it to my side and grasped the side of the doorway with both of his hands. He looked out at the sky with his mouth slightly ajar. It was nice. Had the time finally come? "Come on, everybody! We have to get out of here! Now!" The ground rumbled again, this time dislodging a piece of the doorway. It fell next to my feet and cracked like an egg. There was a pressure on my foot and a pain that shot through my leg. The light was pleasant. "Dammit! Dagger, we need to get them out of here. Can you help him?" Something pressed into me. I heard someone say something, but I couldn't understand. The ribbon in the sky moved without judgment--without a plotted course. It was truly impossible to calculate. It was fascinating. "Hey, move it! Let's go!" There he was again. That stranger. He looked like us, but he was not one of us. He was our superior. I knew because it was what was always known. It was known because he would save Terra. I followed his voice as if his words strung lines to my legs. He knew the way. Quickly, the ground rose up to my face. My head hit the solid stone. "You take him; I'll help her. Hurry!" Gentle hands levied under my arms and lifted my body up, and in the process dislodged my foot from the heavy stone that had fallen onto it. He held me up until he knew I could walk. I wanted to run. I wanted to run toward his voice. I wanted to do what he said. It would fulfill our one desire. "Can you walk?" He said. There was a strange manner to his voice. It was unsettling. "Yes." "Okay, good. Listen, we have to go as quickly as possible. We need to get everybody out of here, so try to keep up." He moved away from me, his hands leaving my side, his tail waving behind him as he ran to the next one of us that needed help. I saw the youngest being carried away by the female in orange. I had to follow. I ran. I ran although it hurt. I ran because it was what had to be done. We ran until we came to the platform. The Invincible was waiting above us, transporting us in groups. I felt something in my stomach, but renounced it. Terra was falling apart. Soon Bran Bal would fall. Was this the time? A wave of energy enclosed my body. The last I saw of Terra was a cloud of flames on a distant pillar, reaching up to the sky grasping for a strength it would never receive again. It was entrancing. When I arrived on the ship, strange people were managing wounds on some of us. I saw the youngest lying on the ground next to a young female in yellow. I walked away from the teleporter, finding it increasingly hard to maneuver my body as I had once been able to. My left foot dragged noisily across the steel floor. However, the sounds of the crisis in the room was near deafening. I took my place next to the two children, watching as the young girl took a soft cloth from out of her pocket and wrapped it around the youngest of us' leg. He was bleeding profusely. She gently placed her hand on his leg and a green glow sparkled across his thigh. "What are you doing?" I said. The girl jumped; she obviously had not noticed my presence. "What do you mean 'what am I doing?'!" She gently put the youngest of us' leg down and stood up. She was not much taller when she was erect. "I'm trying to help your friend, you idiot!" She jumped up once, swinging her arms in an over-exaggerated gesture. "Can you not see that he is going to die?" She looked up at me with her eyes narrowed. I noted that she had a horn--strange for a person to have on their forehead. "He is not! He just needs help! Which is a lot more than what you're doing right now." She knelled again and placed her hand on his thigh. The cool green aura formed over the injury. All I could smell was the blood pouring from his arteries. I looked at the youngest. He was conscious, and well aware of his predicament. But there was something in his eyes that failed to make sense to me. I had never seen him like that before. "It's going to be okay! You and your friends will be safe when we get back home." The girl said. She cast one more spell on his injury, her face delved in concentration on her task. I watched as his leg unintentionally twitched, and grimaced the unexpected sound that came from his mouth. He screeched--the sound deluging discomfort to the ship's interior. I held my ears again. The Invincible shook violently. The gravity was increasing. "We're almost home!" The girl shouted her key of knowledge. But what was home? Somewhere, possibly in the engine room, I heard the ship revving louder as it pressed on in its teleportation. I realized that "home" must have meant Gaia. The source of Terra's souls--our definition of existence. But Terra... My body felt heavier as the gravity continued to climb into the two-to-three times normal, applying more pressure to my injured foot. I lost the ability to control the pain and fell to the ground. I held my foot with one careful hand as I kept my eyes on the others. The ship vibrated at a stronger frequency. More of us were vocalizing our discomfort--our suffering. The youngest was wailing wildly, his eyes clear as the blue lights of Terra. They struck me. I could not breathe. All at once, the ship stopped. In the abruptness of normal gravity, we were flung vertically into the air. A flush of water breached the side of the ship, and the vibration stopped. The room had grown silent. We all listened to the rivulets of liquid run off the sides of the ship. Some of us mumbled words. Some of us groaned discomfort. Some of us, like I, were silent still. I carefully crawled toward the edge of the mezzanine and looked down into the glass below. It was blue, dark blue, like the blue that he was wearing when he came for us. It was flowing and surging. It was imperfect in its design--it never stayed the same from one second to the other. Was this what Gaia's water looked like? I turned my head back to the interior to see the girl in yellow tapping the youngest of us' body. He was sprawled on the floor, silent now, motionless. Red covered his leg, and encircled his body. It covered her hands and the rag. "Is he dead?" I said. She looked up at me and didn't say a word. So this was home.
  17. NC-17 Welcome to Fog City

    “Welcome back, night owls. That was Duran Duran’s ‘Save a Prayer’, released in 1982. Today is Tuesday the 15th of October, it is now 4 AM sharp and you’re listening to Steven Jay and the Night Owls on Fog City Radio. Next up is Bru-†That was his cue. The radio had served its purpose and Steven Jay’s infuriatingly monotone voice was starting to get on his nerves. He turned down the dial, muting the radio, and directed his gaze upon the empty streets. The city had been asleep alongside her inhabitants for a while, resting in preparation for another gruesome day of hard work. Even in the Southside Slums you would be hard pressed to find anything larger than a rat on the streets. He, however, was the exception to that. His work was done under the veil of night and for as long as he could remember he had considered rest as a sign of weakness. He reached out and opened the glove compartment, revealing a pair of black leather gloves, a Beretta handgun and a suppressor. After sliding the leather gloves over his hands he pulled the magazine out of the handgun, making sure that it was loaded. Satisfied with the contents he pushed the magazine back into the gun and attached the suppressor. “Finally,†he muttered. He closed his eyes and took a single deep breath. Fully prepared to fulfil the task he had set out to do he opened door of his car, grabbed the black briefcase that had been sitting on the passenger’s seat and stepped out. With the pistol still in one hand and the briefcase in the other he slammed the door to his grey car shut. For the past two weeks he had spent every night in his car parked in the Southside Slums, carefully waiting for this opportunity. While tucking the gun into the waistband of his dress pants he crossed the round towards a small apartment complex. The Southside Slums lived up to their name. The houses were old, run down and hardly suited for living, but the people here had either spent all of their money on gambling, crack or whores or did not have any money for decent living in the first place. It was a sad story, tragic even, but he did not care. In fact he was grateful. Grateful that he misfortune of these poor fuckers made it easier for him to do what had to be done. Even better was that there was not a single surveillance camera to be found in the Southside Slums. As he opened the door of the complex he was greeted by the sound of a dozen tiny feet scurrying towards the closest hole in fear of whatever creature had entered the building. ‘Rats.’ Silently he strode through the ground floor hallway towards the stairs. His destination was on the second floor. ‘201. 202. 203.’ His eyes were locked on the numbers plastered upon the apartment entrances. ‘204. 205. 206.’ This was it. He placed his briefcase on the floor and took a leather case out of his overcoat’s breast pocket. The leather case contained an elaborate 32-piece lock picking set. Patiently he toyed around with the door’s lock and before long he heard the clicking sound of the last pin falling into place. The door was gently opened in an attempt to avoid the creaking sound often associated with old wooden doors. The insides of the apartment were pitch black, only slightly illuminated by the dim lights of the hallway. Relieved that there was no one in the living room, he put the lock picking set back into its place and picked up his briefcase. After stepping into the flat he closed the door as silently as he had opened it. To the right of the door was an ancient CRT TV with a coffee table and couch in front of it. He placed his briefcase on the coffee tabled and opened it up. He reached around a bit inside of the briefcase, unable to find what he was looking for due to the darkness of the living room. It took him a few seconds, but eventually he pulled a roll of duct tape out and left it on top of the table. By now his eyes had started to get used to the darkness and a quick scan of the room showed that the kitchen was attached to the living room and other than that there were only two doors. It was likely that one of the doors led to the bathroom and the other to the bedroom. Confident that he stood in front of the door leading into the bedroom he grabbed his gun and slowly started inching the door open. As expected, the first thing he was a single size bed at the end of the room. His prey was in his sights and it was a matter of minutes before he was done. No longer concerned with delicacy he paced towards the bed and took a peek at who was sleeping in it. It was a woman, mid-thirties, short blond hair and so skinny that you couldn’t tell whether there was any meat between her skin and bones. He sat down on the bed and leaned over her, making sure to cover both of her arms, and placed his left arm firmly upon her lips. The shock of his body on her woke her up screaming, but the sound were muffled by his leathered hands. “Shush, shush, shush,†he whispered, “do you see this?†He waved the gun held in his right hand in front of her face. “Make any sound louder than I’d like and I’ll be forced to use it. Understand?†Terrified her eyes shot towards every corner of the room, whether that was a sign of disorientation or fear, he was not sure. “Understand!?†She quickly nodded yes, realizing that not answering wouldn’t end well. “I am going to let go of you. You are going to stay quiet. You are going to get up and go into the living room. Understand?†She nodded. He pressed the gun against her temple and raised his hand off of her mouth, as promised. Still terrified and probably not even sure what was going on she kept staring straight at the ceiling, not making any attempts of eye contact with her assailant. After he confirmed that she would indeed remain quiet, he got off the bed. Click clack. He cocked his gun right before she got up in an attempt to make her realize that a wrong move would end badly, betting on the fact that she did not realize that cocking a gun is an empty gesture. Luckily she understood and got up silently, as ordered. As she walked towards the living room he followed closely with the gun constantly pointed at her lower back. “Turn on the lights.†She nodded and flipped the switch right next to the door to her bedroom. The light revealed that she was wearing nothing but a white haltertop and panties. Normally he would feel aroused by now, but he felt nothing but disgust when he examined her. “Sit down on the coach.†As usual she did as ordered. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.†Before joining her he took a stainless steel kitchen knife out of one of the kitchen’s drawers. “It won’t take long.†As she sat petrified on the coach he used the knife to cut off a piece of the duct tape. “Put this on your mouth.†He handed it over to her, but she just looked at it as if she did not understand what he meant. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.†After she gagged herself he cut off a significantly larger piece of the duct tape. “Stick out your hands,†he said as he kneeled in front of her. She stuck out her hands and he had begun wrapping the tape around her wrists, but at this time she noticed that both the kitchen knife and gun were on the coffee table. As if the fight-or-flight switch in her brain had been switched on at the precise time, she kicked him in the face. He hit the back of his head on the table and ended up stunned for a second, but she did not waste any time. Desperate to survive she ran towards, however with her hands bound she had trouble opening it quickly. She knew it was too late when she felt something tug at her at her haltertop. Before she knew she was tossed halfway through the room, back onto the coach. “You bitch!†The expressionless cold gaze that covered his face had been replaced with fury. With every step he took in her direction she felt that her time was slowly coming to an end. With a huge swing he hit her in the face with the back of his hand. He forced her down on the couch, sat on her with her chest between his legs and wrapped his hands around her neck. She struggled and screamed as hard as she could, but she was unable to match his physical strength and her voice did not carry far enough for it to be audible to anyone outside of the room. His eyes stared into hers constantly, while she searched the entire room hoping to find something that might save her, but as the seconds passed by her voice become softer and the little strength her body possessed her left. She was dead. It hadn’t gone as smoothly as he had imagined, but from what he had heard first murders hardly ever did. With no more business in the Southside Slums he quickly put his gun and the duct tape back into his brief case. As he stood in the doorway he considered one last time to set up the room and create some sort of spectacle, but he quickly decided that that would be too much effort. Instead he decided to keep it simple. With the kitchen knife, that he had used to cut the duct tape, he carved ‘SAVE ME’ into the apartment’s door and then slammed the knife into the door, making sure that it was stuck in place. He’d have to come back tomorrow and take a peek at the policemen. He was curious to see who would be the one to handle this case and even more curious to know whether he, or she, would be a suitable playmate, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. For now the only thing he worried about was what he should masturbate to before going to bed.
  18. You have been tasked with bearing a very sensitive parcel across some very treacherous terrain. Long before the era of gunpowder, your arsenal consists of some rudimentary magical techniques and fine manpowered weaponry. The only thing you know about your parcel is that it is human, and very much alive. You know you are not the only one who will be traveling in this escort. What you don't know, is who this person is, or why they must be transported in so much secrecy. You have not been told the person's age, sex, class or otherwise affiliation. You have not yet met the other members of your party, but you do have a rendezvous point. You have never met the parcel, and you have no idea if they've actually consented to being transported. Why would you agree to a risky mission with so many variables? Because the money is very good. You are to be paid in full upon delivery of the parcel to a temple within the walls of the fortress city, Shau'ku Moto, and there is to be no payment upon failure. Shau'ku Moto is an ancient stronghold held by the low elves; referred to derogatorily as trolls. While their attunement with magic is deeply primal and elemental (worse, you might say) you would not put it past a troll to bend you over their knee and break your back. Relationships between the high elves and the trolls are "okay". Humans also exist, thought they are distinctly Asiatic in appearance, and are mostly local only as nomads. Their capital is on the other side of the globe, and have neutral relationships with both trolls and high elves. The high elves are the only race with a republic instead of a monarchy, however, it is well infiltrated by mafia-style political influence. Your journey will take you from the Forest of Enchanted Trees, your rendezvous point, 100 miles south to Shau'ku Moto. You have the option of a well-traveled trade route, or a more unconventional path. There is one point you must cross with the trade path though: a half-mile span of bridges across the Gorge of Needles, where sturdy rope suspension bridges cross a deep chasm, punctuated by pillars of stone. The chasm stretches for miles to either side, and the river that once ran through used to mark the territory limits of the high and low elves. It is about halfway through your journey. So who are you? A scruffy man in an almost comically ruined cloak is taking names at a local tavern. He is one of many recruiting in bars around the High Elf capital Quel'duvir and in neighboring hamlets. Name: (The wealthy tend to have last names that honor the talent that made their family wealthy, the poor go by their given names) Appearance: Strengths and Abilities: Weaknesses: Personality: Background: Motive: (Do you have any motivation beyond monetary gain?) I will play the parcel.
  19. "C'mere... lissin'." The old man leans over the impromptu desk of appropriated bar tables. He knocks the back of his fingers along the tabletop, signaling the importance of paying attention with the rhythmic clack of several old steel rings. He presses his other hand to his ledger, which you have just signed. "No. Money. Unless the deed is done. Six past the high moon, you'll find the parcel wrapped up and ready to go under the Highborne's Arbor. No money, even if one of your crew fucks you over. We don' need you like we need the delivery. Might'eve be in for a bonus if you come back a dirty hand short." He draws back, and strikes his thumb against his index finger to light a flame against his slim cigar. He's been chewing on the end of it this whole time. "If you finish, you'll find me here, n' if you don't, you'll never find me again." He stands, and gives you a drunken hiccup of a bow. One of his long silver hairs falls free, wafts over, and falls in your drink. He laughs, and leaves you there to cope with it. The sun was threatening the horizon, but it seemed they were steady at an uneasy truce. The night sky was nipped at the side by delicate pink, and a hum of light illuminated everything in the Forest of Enchanted Trees. the tree known as the Highborne's Arbor was not known because it was the largest of the trees in the forest, or the most distinctive. In fact, there were many like it, with the swirled, twisted-trunk coniferous trees being almost uniform until the pine forests of the east. The Highborne's Arbor was an old tree, and it had curled over to drape its branches in a shroud over a round patch of earth. The ground below the boughs was laid with cobblestones, and rumor had it that many a secret decision which drove the fate of all the high elves had been made there. Those who didn't subscribe to the conspiracies, of course, just expected the stones had been laid down to stop the young from copulating in the forest. Tonight a small cart was parked there, a light canvas tent held up over its contents in an arch. It had a harness for a horse packed in with the cargo, but looked like it could be dragged as easily by hand. The most notable thing inside was a small androgynous boy, clothed in feminine purple robes embroidered with silver lilies. His black hair was held back by the thick wrap of black fabric that gagged his mouth and tied behind his head. His limbs, it seemed, had a similar restraint applied, and his whole body was tied by the waist to the cart he was sitting in. Those delivering him would not have been the first to find him there. Tragically ill-willed teenagers who stumbled upon the boy and found it hilariously erotic that he was tied up. Not that Eyr couldn't struggle against his restraints, but a few older hands to hold him down meant that he now had a penis ejaculating on his cheek drawn in charcoal across his face, and a crudely written sign propped against his chest reading: "Free fucks! I want it bad!" On the bright side, it didn't look like anyone had come along since.
  20. wtb friend

    I got into the RPing mood again. I don't have any ideas for story or whatever yet, but I am looking for someone to think it through with. So if you're willing to deal with my shitty writing, shitty story, shitty personality and shitty demands... there might be something wrong with you, but you're exactly who I am looking for! As for what genres... I'm cool with pretty much anything, but I was thinking of some contemporary fantasy/sci-fi thingamajig. tl;dr i need a friend plz
  21. R The Pact

    A detonation absorbed the very essence sound itself, like the reality of a dream. It ate the passing of time and suspended mere milliseconds into minutes; minutes into hours. A white hot flash took out the great Iron Oak of Kherilen, the forest city's guardian and ancient relic. Its smoldering husk coiled reflexively as the white-gold energy nibbled its outer-most edges like fires drinks paper. These monsters pressed on foot after foot over so much lost life. Even Leeuwnye felt the horror touch her bones. They were completely unrelenting, driven as if by mad absolution alone, completely oblivious to the heavy taxation they burdened the very planet with. Could they not see the chaos in the elements? The way the energy of this planet swelled like inflammation of the skin? Or did they just not care? She nosed out of cover and shot the beast who was armed with the explosives with her Stingshot. Hard engineered chitin projectiles pounded their armour and shredded into their skin. With their active physiology, it took a fraction of the time for the infused poison to reach their hearts and drop them dead. Helpful when facing an enemy that could endure a body full of shrapnel. Quickly, Leeuwnye abandoned her position before the return fire and slid behind a hastily assembled trench on the main street. A young elf huddled there, unarmed and alone. He jumped when she scrambled by, his face all but the pure expression of fear. His mouth was open, but all that could be seen within was inky darkness; an Awakener. “Hey there,†she started once she caught her breath. “What're you doing here? You need to get out of here and head south, it's safe on the other side of the river.†The boy shuddered. “No,†the statement came within her mind. A hollow conviction with the deep resonant timbre of a Shade. “I cannot.†Leeuwnye stopped and softened, her voice friendly but demanding. “What's your name?†“None. Not anymore...†The boy rose to his feet and eluded her hand so that she could not draw him back. He held out a small engraved stone; a dog tag, issued by the united elven forces. He stepped out into the open air and moved to the human forces. Their bullets ripped through his thin and soft body. His blood dispersed into mist in the air. His form did not fall, and that had them scared. With an arm extended, a writhing black vapor trailed its way to their front line. In seconds, their horrible screams rose from the battlefield. Noises like wild hogs at full volume. It died away with the fading of the boy's unnatural energy, and soon both foe and assailant crumpled to the ground in putrid heaps of meat and skin. Leeuwnye knew the tables had to be turn and they had to be turned now. Her entire squad was gone. The military presence was scattered. Most of the resistance came now directly from the very civilians that were fighting on the streets outside their homes. Backup is on the way. That's all she could tell herself. Communications were down. She needed to find friends fast if they hoped to hold out a frontline for anyone to back up.
  22. R The Heist

    First to arrive, just excellent. Patrick Bell lit a cigarette and pulled up an empty oil drum to sit on. He looked around the garage and sighed, still not believing he was actually going through with this. At least it was quiet, unlike his own garage - in past that is. He recalled how his wife would nag at him for smoking even in the garage. HIS garage, in HIS house, that HE paid for, by slaving away at HIS shit job. He'd tell her to shut up and fuck off if she didn't like it. And then one day she did. And now he smoked in the garage all he wanted. At least it's something familiar. he pondered. Everything else about today would be alien to him. Interacting with hardened criminals, planning a crime, acting. Time passed. Patrick checked his phone. The others would be arriving any moment now. He lit another cigarette and steeled himself, or at least tried to. He knew how nervous he was, he just hoped he didn't show it. Here he was, a 32 year old HR manager whose only past dealing with the law was speeding fines, about to join a crew of seasoned criminals to make plans to rob a bank. It seemed so impossible, but that was the exact allure of it. He would live a mediocre life devoid of luxury or joy if he stayed in his honest job, but here he had the chance to take one risk and become a millionaire overnight. Or end up in jail. What the fuck am I doing?
  23. I feel like doing some RPing, there's not much open at the moment, and I have no particular ideas for one. So I thought I'd start this topic and see if others are looking to get into something, and we can brainstorm some ideas. I'm up for potentially any genre, except probably romance. I would definitely get bored with realistic romance, might be able to sustain a fantasy or such one though. Doesn't mean a plot can't have romance though, but just if its the sole focus of the story I can't promise interest. I'm not fussed how much or how little people post, or how they post, or whether it stays G-rated or full-on X-rated or anywhere in between, or how many participants we have, or whether you're Student or Graduate, or what speed you post at, or how likely you are to see the RP through to completion. Seriously I'll roll with anything here. I tend to conform to what everyone else is doing, so I'll meet whatever length and detail seems to be the standard. So yeah, if you're looking for some RP, come on in and lets cook something up.
  24. PG-13 [Private] White Sands

    This is a private RP Between myself (Raine Bell) and Gajeel Just for some reference my character Name: Belinda Ridgens Age: 20-23 Gender: Female Appearance: Hazel eyes and honey brown hair that is sleek and reaches just past her shoulders with side bangs and cut in layers.She has a slender build and extremely proud of her body as she's worked hard for it. Evenly tanned to a caramel skin tone from all her summer vacations out in the sun with her family. Personality: Bubbly and out going Belinda it you upbeat peppy female. Extremely optimistic she always finds the good in everything. _______________________________________________________________________________________ So Gajeel, if you'd like you may post a character bio but as we discussed about letting it form throughout the story it is not necessary.
  25. X Adventure : 03

    It hadn't been so long ago that he'd been sitting in this same spot, gnawing the end of a pencil as he contemplated an ambiguously worded question on his college entrance exams. It was just as he'd intended, just as his parents wanted, that he was now for the first night relaxing into his bed on the University of Tokyo campus. His blue eyes bore up into the blankness of the ceiling as it occurred to him that he hadn't had a moment to relax like this in quite some time. Ken fixed his brows and tried to remember it. When had he last caught a breath of fresh air? When had he had so little on his plate that he'd had the time to, well, think of when he'd last had time? Maybe it was a bad time-- his roommate was sleeping, after all, and it was one in the morning. But Ken rolled off his bed anyway, working to put the final touches on unpacking his desktop computer. It was a frustratingly small room, but he wanted to be sure he had the computing power that a laptop couldn't provide. It wasn't for schoolwork, or anything like that... Maybe it was even foolish, to everybody else. He hadn't spoken to Wormmon in... maybe a month, just catching up. While his roommate slumbered with a soft, blue blob of un-digivolved nubile digimon on his chest, Ken's own partner was looking out for digi ne'er-do-wells in the digital world. Most people had the advantage of digimon without their own jobs or agendas, they got to keep them as pets, as best friends who'd never need to leave their side. Most digimon lived with their humans in the human world because humans had lives. Ken's was especially busy. So was Wormmon's. Still, he flipped on his monitor and listened to his roommate groan at the luminous glow. He had a little piece of software he'd coded to act like a communicator with Wormmon, working through his wireless antenna to pick up on the digivice's unique broadcast. It worked both ways, but since Ken was usually the one turning his computer on and off, he was the one initiating calls. Not tonight, though. About as soon as his computer was operating, he saw a log of missed calls from Wormmon. As the attempts stretched back a few hours-- hours he normally should've had his computer up and running-- suddenly the populating log was interrupted by yet another attempt. "Ken!" "Wormmon? What's up, buddy?" Ken looked nervously at his roommate, and the Chibomon that was starting to stir. He looked back at Wormmon even more unnerved. "I really need you, Ken! Listen-- all around the digital world, we've been hearing that people can't find their digimon, and worse, they can't seem to get into the digital world to come look for them here!" "What?" Ken didn't know why he was so shocked, given his experiences in the digital world, but peace had been strong and solid between the two worlds ever since Oikawa's death. That man had been sacrifice for everything the world was today-- and now it was in flux again? "Please come, Ken! I know you're busy, but you're the only one I can ask!" Wormmon's fragile voice shivered, and the D-3 that had been gathering a thick coat of dust no matter where he put it, lit up its screen. "The gate's open, then..." Ken picked it up with the familiarity of a bicycle. It was hard to forget his trips to the digital world, his trips especially. Well, he'd be back in no time... wouldn't he? He brushed off the digivice and held it to the screen. "Alright... I'm coming to help!"