When a player drops out, spots open! Your characters will be compensated in items and skills for lost time. They will appear at a building called a "resurrection office", which you can see in thesetwo visual aids.
I suggest reading this post, and the important info posts linked to in the second post. If you have any questions at all, do not hesitate to PM me! I should be able to respond within the day.
The overall goal of the RP is to serve as somewhat of an abridged SBurb game, while keeping with the original concept of a tournament. Activity is important, as players who suddenly vanish are eliminated from the tournament and replaced with new players.
All throughout the continuum of Paradox Space, there are thousands of millions of game sessions seeking to create new universes and new life. In the alpha timeline, many of them succeed and many of them fail. And while many failed players spend eternity with a certain Noble Circle, some lucky souls are salvaged by a group of entities known as the Court of Destriminers, permitted by the Elder Gods to pit these former players against each other for their own amusement, with the prize being nothing less than the Ultimate Reward.
Players from many different failed sessions will find themselves on the vacant cityscape of “The Small”, a small planet where contestants are held. Nearby is “The Giant”, a larger body whose mysterious contents are forbidden from the players. This is where the Court resides. Throughout the Small is a city of mysteries, some that are vital to the Court’s goals, and some that are the key to escape.
Their challenge consists of many rounds, with obstacles mimicking those that the players faced in their own games, and take place in some environment not entirely unlike the dreambubbles glubbed by the Horrorterrors. The challenges are difficult, and many will fail again. However, one will prove themselves to be worthy of a second chance.
This is an OCT, or an original character tournament. The original version (here!) worked like a “Grand Battle” RP, where players were asked to submit a post before a deadline, and the one we thought was less well-written was eliminated. However, lots of people (mostly everyone) forgot or ignored the deadline, despite being able to submit literally anything and pass. Additionally, the kind of sounds like homework, doesn’t it? So, we’re trying something new and running this contest like a regular RP.
Hold on, doesn’t that mean that most of us will have to let our characters fail voluntarily at some point?
Yes, yes it does. We’re trusting you guys to be good enough roleplayers to let the contest run like this, to let your character fail as you feel is narratively and realistically appropriate. Do not join this RP if you just can’t STAAAND to let your precious character fail at something, even though they won’t actually die or get eliminated from the RP! In fact, as far as the RP goes, there’s a lot to do inside the tournament AND outside of it!
To make it perfectly clear, losing a challenge doesn’t mean your character is evicted from the RP. It means they become participants in another, larger plot. Don’t leave the RP just because your character loses, please!
Plus, we’re not doing the colored commission that was a prize in the last tournament. Lucheek isn’t here, and the rest of us aren’t that great at drawing. So really it’s not like there’s any pressure to win anyway.
So, how is this going to work?
Good question, literary device! Your characters will have free reign over the world of The Small, but a clock will be ticking. Eventually the day will be over and they’ll have to go to bed! Once they fall asleep is when the fun begins and the contest commences! At that point I’ll post the challenge, which will usually require that players work together in a manner similar to an SBurb game.
Here’s your profile:
Name: Gender: Species: Human, Troll, or something you made up yourself! Species can be anything. Age: Mythological Role: Hero of X. At the beginning of the tournament, players will not have their game powers. Former planet: Land of X and Y Former moon: Prospit or Derse Inherent Abilities: Nothing too overpowered, obviously! Strife Specibi: Items they are carrying: 1 weapon and up to 4 non-weapons. Items should be what they had close to the beginning of their game. (There will be chances to get back their old stuff and make new stuff in the RP!) Personality : House Description: New. A google images pick you find is fine.
You may also wish to include their experiences from their failed game. Having different titles and aspects is encouraged, but not required since this isn’t an actual session.
If you have any questions, comments or suggestions, feel free to talk to any of the judges! Our IRC channel for SCond.ChanSe discussion, IC or otherwise, is #SCond. It is hosted on the server EsperNet.
Name: Opal Kirsty
Age: She has no idea how long they were in that game. It may have been hours; it may have been years. She doesn't even know how far forward or back this challenge has taken her. But for simplicity, let's go with her entry to the medium age, 16.
Mythological Role: She had been the Hero of Hope, a role which she had failed tremendously due to lack of contact with most of the players/
Former planet: The Land of Lakes and Windows had been an odd place, always one of confusion and illusion. The images the windows showed her weren't on the other side of the windows: they had been of other lands. This drove her a bit mad. She now dislikes and distrusts windows.
Former moon: Derse
Inherent Abilities: None
Strife Specibi: knifeKind
Items she is carrying: Upon her death, she HAD been carrying a more advanced form of her weapon, but that doesn’t matter anymore, considering she doesn’t have it. Now she carries the earliest form of her weapon: a butcher’s knife. All other things she carries are strictly superfluous and consist only of a lampshade, set of paint, and bag of M & Ms (for which she is immensely grateful)
Personality : Opal was always the outcast of her group in a way. Many avoided contact with her, which may be due in part to her avoiding contact with them. She was always sheltered and on her on by choice, not because she didn’t like contact with others, but because she felt they would judge her for her disinterest in things other than learning. The few that got close to her, however, found that she was happy and talkative, if not a smidge pedantic in speech.
Her group’s failure was an unpleasant one, and that is all she remembers. She suspects that her subconscious has blocked out the more gruesome details, and she is glad for that, if a bit wary. But she will not let it happen this time. Not again. She will redeem herself from her uninvolved roll in her previous group.
This time, she will succeed.
Last edited by misguidedParadox; 11-13-2011 at 03:45 PM.
Reason: Adding picture and preface
(hopefully korat will be better this time; i had no idea what i was doing last time this was around. it was fun, though!)
Your name is KORAT VANITA, and you are dead.
Once upon a time, you had been a force to be reckoned with. You were someone to look up to and admire. You had made a name for yourself, and you had proven your worth. Then a close friend of yours-- one of the few who remembered you from before-- made a suggestion. She had said you had become too stern and strict, and that maybe it hadn't been best to discard all of your old hobbies (most of which you can no longer remember). She had suggested a prototype game a friend of a friend had been entrusted with. You had been reluctant at first, but you couldn't deny her for long. After gaining permission from your commanding officer, you left your station aboard the starfleet and headed home. And you began to play. You had deemed yourself leader (a fact no one had been surprised by) and your friend connected to you, and then
You were crouched down over her broken body, staring up with fearful eyes at the white-skinned beast towering above you. A creature that, back home, you had been warned about. An anomaly, they had called it. A mutated specimen of an already dangerous species. Something that was immensely powerful, but dormant. It wasn't dormant anymore. Everything had been going so well. Your fellow players had all entered the Medium, and you had been about to reach your sixth gate. But with the entrance of the last player came a disaster. The beast had followed her in. And it was angry. You heard a few far-off notes, a sound that could only be produced by a crystal flute-- and then you died. Severed in half by the beast you could not stand up against. Weak.
You were always weak. You would never, ever admit it, but you were weak. Even your friends outclassed you. Your title was meaningless, as meaningless as you were. Your game title even moreso. The Ensign of Mind. A weakling like you, who couldn't even master your own inherent abilities of the mind, entrusted with such a title? Ridiculous.
The entire life of Korat-- a comedy, a tragedy, a joke. And a fitting end: as powerless as he was at the very start.
You do not deserve a second chance. But you will try anyways.
NAME: Korat Vanita GENDER: Male AGE: 17 [considered a mature adult] SPECIES: Geijii MYTHOLOGICAL ROLE: Ensign of Mind FORMER PLANET: Land of Obsidian and Copper FORMER MOON: Prospit INHERENT ABILITIES: Short-range teleportation (5-10 feet), partial telepathy, (very) minor control of elements, and telekinesis STRIFE SPECIBI: Boosterkind ITEMS: Badge, a set of casual clothes (shorts and shirt), and a portable holographic computer PERSONALITY: Korat was rather confident in several things. He had worked his way to the top from his place at the very bottom; he had the respect and fear of everyone around him; he was a capable leader. After he was accepted into the Empire's starfleet, Korat slowly began to shut away his emotions and opinions in favor of improving himself and becoming strong and respected. As such, he rose through the ranks quite quickly, and was considered a bit of a prodigy. When he was offered the opportunity to play his world's version of S*B, he accepted readily and declared himself leader, believing himself to be the most qualified for the task.
This view soon fell apart once their monstrous First Guardian was set loose in the Medium, killed half his friends, and cut him in half.
This failure has shaken him immensely. Korat is no longer confident in his own abilities-- especially with the knowledge that, without his specibus's higher levels, he'd be useless and powerless-- and tends to act erratically, sometimes acting hostile to scare others off from discovering his weakness, sometimes warming up to others in the hopes of them able to help him, even if he'd never admit that he needs help in the first place. Korat still has his deep-rooted pride, however, and he will not let anyone take it away from him. He is somewhat aloof, unable to understand how to act around or towards people, somewhat thick-headed and stubborn, and has a bit of a superiority complex. Getting closer to him may get him to drop the act a little and reveal some of his teenager awkwardness, but the chances of someone managing to break through his walls are very slim.
Korat is weak, but afraid to admit it. Korat clings to what little he has left-- his badge, his uniform, his pride-- in an attempt to prove that he hasn't lost. Korat is afraid of changes to his being, and of losing the foundation he's built himself upon. His pride may be his downfall eventually, but until then it's the only thing he has. The memory of his own death and of his friends' deaths weigh heavy on him, but he views such feelings as weaknesses and struggles constantly to toss them aside.
Geijii are REALLY overpowered when compared to most races. Korat, in fact, despite his numerous abilities, is rather stunted as far as his race's natural powers go (and extremely reluctant to admit it). But that will be covered a little bit more later.
Geijii are similar to cats in mannerisms and features. Their bodies are slender and tall in build, with most strength being in the tail and legs. They are also rather flexible, and -- like cats-- able to fit themselves into rather odd places for no real reason. Their claws are nonretractable, and generally blunted and quite useless (although a few Geijii keep theirs sharpened out of personal preference); if in a fight, the claws won't provide much defense. Their tail, however, will. While used mainly for balance, a Geijii's tail is prehensile and can be used for grabbing or hanging on to things, as well as a secondary defense.
They're rather technologically advanced, having developed faster-than-light travel and often using holographic or psychic interfaces. They also have a rather impressive starfleet, which Korat had been in training aboard. Their Empire consists of only a few planets in their solar system and some far-off colonies, but they're quite determined anyways.
A Geijii's primary defense happens to be their powerful psychic abilities. Ranging from telepathy to teleportation to elemental control to telekinesis, their psionic abilities-- referred to by them as PSI-- vary in strength from user to user. Korat is practically at the bottom of the barrell. He can't lift objects heavier than himself, he needs intense focus to teleport further than 5 feet, his fire generation is limited to where he's better off just using a lighter, and his telepathic abilities are restrained to sensing emotions, broken phrases, and vague images. While Korat's specibus is geared entirely towards using PSI-boosting devices, he has none of these but the initial booster, leaving him rather weak in comparison to how he would be with his higher-level boosters. Had Korat awakened his abilities as Hero of Mind and reached God Tier, he would've been able to "hack" into someone's mind, finding their deepest thoughts and with some control over the target-- but while putting himself at risk and leaving himself open to attack.
Last edited by spasticGamer; 11-16-2011 at 05:51 PM.
Reason: fully edited! :D
All he knew what to do was to fight, and he prided himself in that regard. Being born as a nobody and into the company of people who didn't at all support his ideas of lifting himself out of the hellhole he'd been born into didn't exactly mix too well. And now, all he wants to do is to make something out of himself.
Having been coerced into playing the game with his friends at an earlier date, the combat-based environment of Sburb itself was something Skylar relished in. He enjoyed feeding those little fiends their daily dosage of lead, and as such he rushed through his Gates, hoping to be done away with the game as quickly as possible - after all, the creation of an entire universe depended on him and his actions.
An anomaly within the session, however, proved to be his life's last stop. He would have been damned if he took a break - he was so close to his sixth Gate! The warnings of his friends weren't taken into consideration as well, and even though they urged him to be careful and take his time, Skylar would never listen. His dominion over the wills of his enemies did not help him at all. At his command, he could strike fear into the hearts of his foes, and instill himself with a dose of his own bravery. Even then, it wasn't enough. It was a mob of them, and when he thought he was making good progress, he met his demise. The only things he could remember about his grisly death was a large thud to the head, being picked up, and from him watching himself as to how he died, was literally picked up by a Giclops and ripped apart, then tossed whatever remained of his body at the mob of angry monsters.
Let's get this party started, shall we?
Name: Skylar Farron Gender: Male Species: Human Age: 15 Mythological Role: Soldier of Valor(or Valour if you want, doesn't matter). Former planet: Land of Thunder and Canyons. Former moon: Derse Inherent Abilities: Quite skilled with a gun, if that counts. Having grown up in a slummy part of the big city really helps, doesn't it? Strife Specibi: Pistolkind. Items they are carrying: A BB gun shaped in the form of a pistol (his Strife Specibus reluctantly agreed), a change of clothes, and his iPhone that comes with a set of earbuds. Personality: Skylar liked to act like a bigshot. Okay, he believed that every ounce of his fiber was indeed made out to be a bigshot, so he decided to be a rather arrogant prick. He was a boastful S.O.B. who deserved his death - that of a fool's one. And with his death came the untimely ones of his friends, and in turn their session fell into ruin. He loved to charge headlong into any sort of competition; and winning was something he wanted to make a habit out of. Having an innate lack of a sense of empathy; partly because he grew to not tune into others' emotions, Skylar's overly aggressive to anyone he doesn't know, competitive with those he considers "friends," and loathes the sorry saps he considers his enemies, and would gladly lay down his life for anyone deserving of such a treatment.
Here's more of his wardrobe, courtesy of spasticGamer!
Last edited by Schizo; 11-16-2011 at 09:24 PM.
Reason: Excuse the white shirt.
"Beside time exists fate - the bearer of cruelty."
Name: Abira Lolek Gender: Female Species: Troll Age: 7 sweeps Mythological Role: Hero of Hope Former planet: Land of Desert and Snow Former moon: Prospit Inherent Abilities: She doesn't have any extra abilities but man she sure is intimidating Strife Specibi: Staffkind Items they are carrying: Blue Diamond Staff of Strength, Computer Glasses, Black Belt Armor Personality : Abira is quite the....interesting troll. She is what you would call a troll that strives to be the very best. She holds up to the ideals that low colored bloods are worse and blue bloods like her are better. It's not because she hates them or anything, those are just her beliefs. She's also in the perfect troll in the fact that she loves violence. Killing is pf course wrong unless the person deserves it, but a little violence and fighting never hurt anyone. Yes. Abira loves to fight with the other trolls whenever she can. Another aspect of her personality is her extreme nature. She is either extremely bubbly and happy or extremely angry and well...you don't want to know. Her preferred method of fighting is with her fists and feet, karate style. She does however use a staff while she fights because it's just easier that way. She hates that she has glasses and can't do anything to fix that. She's pretty outgoing and considers herself to have many friends among the other blue bloods and sea dwellers. She has never met someone of another race. Previous Session: Abira's previous session was a disaster. Abira was the first one in followed by her three closest friends. That was until she got too busy fighting off all of the liches in the Land of Desert and Snow to get the last player through. Since they never got all of their players, they never really had a chance. Their session was pretty much doomed by that point. But it didn't matter. They played through the game. They leveled up. Abira almost lost her leg in a fight with an ice giclops. She went through to her friend's world, the Land of Lilies and Rivers and together they tried to defeat her denizen, Naiad. They failed miserably and both of them died.
Your name is IKALLA HARARE, your TrollTag is factualHorticulturist. You always use extra commas in your sentences and you use extra g's and p's in your words like this: ggardens and pplants are my favorite.
(Talksprite courtesy of spasticGamer. Thanks bro-ette.)
Name: Niklas Konig
Mythological Role: King of Umbrage
Former Planet: Land of Shadows and Machines
Former Moon: Derse
Inherent Abilities: None, unless being a freak counts
Strife Specibi: Bladekind, uses retardedly big swords as a joke (i.e. Buster Sword)
Items He's Carrying: Shitty Replica Buster Sword, Laptop, Rosetta Stone Translation Book, a bottle of beer
Personality: Thinks rationally most of the time, but is quick to anger. Shows bouts of kleptomania at times. Cracks jokes at the expense of others quite often. Quite the chatterbox, but his English sucks. Friendly to most that aren't out to cut his throat.
Appearance: Albinic thanks to a genetic anomaly during ectobiology. Wears a baggy, black, hooded leather coat with a red t-shirt depicting a Yin-Yang symbol, plus denim jeans with a belt depicting a logo of some company and black sneakers. Very tall, and still growing; he hasn't been measured in a while but he looks like he's approaching 6'8" or so.
Well, it all started when he'd been forced to commit suicide by the Soldier of Valor.
Niklas had managed to find his father, a collossal man at 7'8", amidst all the turmoil of his session; ever since then he had barely left his dad's sight, helping the man clean his various shotguns and tools and occasionally alchemizing a new weapon or two for either himself or his old man. He'd been absolutely delighted to introduce everyone (once they got through their gates) to his father, the man behind a somewhat large German company having to do with the manufacturing of machines, tools, computers, and other such electronic garbage. It had even started to bother him less that everyone unanimously decided to make him leader on account of his title of the King of Umbrage, and that he couldn't speak English worth shit due to having been raised in the heart of Germany his entire life.
He wasn't so delighted when his father got a blank look on his face and raised his shotgun to his head, then pulled the trigger, though.
Through the haze of tears and confusion he managed to notice someone charging at him; the Soldier of Valor, a boy who could bend others' wills to his own, make their courage his. Wearing a pair of baggy, purple clothes that looked an awful lot like pajamas with a long hood. Where'd he get those?
Of course, Niklas had been absolutely no match, even with his power over shadows and an absolutely immense amount of anger after figuring out that the Soldier had made his father commit suicide. After a few minutes he saw the Soldier raise his hand in the air, and Niklas felt his hands gripping his large blade tight and bringing it to his own neck, slicing an artery against his will. He did manage to give the hooded boy one last flip of the bird before his vision faded out and he could feel his organs shutting down; at least he was able to give his murderer a little parting gift.
Last edited by Ninten; 11-21-2011 at 03:54 PM.
Pesterchum handle is blackZero. Not always on, but pop by and say hi if I am.
Your name and Hirune Erskine and...oh dear...
It looks like you've met with a terrible fate...
Show us who you are.
You are the Witch of Truth! It's you!
Errr...that's not quite right...You look a little scratched up there dear.
You are Hirune Erskine.
Yes, that's better. Your name is Hirune Erskine. A while ago, you and seven...friends? Acquaintances? Associates...? Jerks, childhood friends, caretakers, dabblers, meddlers, narcissists and so many now broken, scattered bits and pieces played a game, and lost.
You would like to think you knew what happened to make you wind up here, but in truth you have no idea. You have always been a recluse, a social outcast, pariah - you have never seen a single person in your life thanks to never having left the woods in which you lived on Earth, or the planet to which you were transported in the Medium. With the exceptions of your big sister, and the Agent of Derse who had killed you. You would like to say it was a long, arduous battle for both sides raging up and down the forests of your planet. You WERE at the top of your echeladder, with fraymotifs and powers galore, after all...But he killed you in your sleep. And unbeknownst to you, your dreamself had died long ago.
In the end, you died without having ever seen or talked to any of your 'friends,' It wasn't their fault - it was yours. You pushed them away. You refused contact. And all because you hadn't been able to handle your server actually being able to see you. You had a nervous breakdown while she was scrambling to save you from a meteor. And what had you done to repay her? You blocked her and everybody else on pesterchum, which had been your only link to the outside world for your entire life.
But you still remember what killed you. You were too weak and terrified before to acknowledge that you had signed your own death warrant before. Things change. You are the Witch of Truth. And the Truth is, not everyone gets a second chance.
You will not waste it.
Well, you blew it.
You're half dead back in The Small, and there's an Effigy on the loose. Great job.
Name: Hirune Erskine Gender: Female Species: Human Age: 14 Mythological Role: Witch of Truth Planet: The Land of Forests and Quicksilver Moon: Derse Associated Element: Mercury Denizen: Hecate Powers: Not that you have access to them anymore, but - Assorted Fey abilities. Strife Specibi: MirrorKind Items: The Sanguine Mirror, shattered shards of four other mirrors, a scrap of paper with two captchalogue codes on it, the shovel from round 1, and an opal.
Personality: Very, very, very, VERY shy to an almost pathological degree, has extreme self-esteem issues and is very meek. Does not react well to requests or advice, being mistrustful of others. Is highly intelligent, but is equally superstitious and prone to rash, emotional logic. She makes for a very good listener, willing to sit and listen to a person talk for hours at a time about nearly anything. She has an excellent memory and has a habit of reminding the few people she associates with of things she thinks they may have forgotten.
We try things. Sometimes they even work.
-Parson Gotti, Erfworld
Ectricark: Inorite: A rare mineral, composed of the elements concurium and amusium.
The "You're Insane!" Counter: XXXIV
Do you mind? This looks like fun, and I have a species I've been itching to play with.
The session should have been a piece of cake.
While not the most warlike of species, you were capable fighters, with a natural gift for architecture and inquisitive, puzzle-loving minds. You were naturals at cooperation, and a tighter group of friends could not be found; your species was deeply social, and adept at working in concert for the good of the group.
That same trait would be your downfall.
When you entered the Medium, you were struck with sudden silence. You lived in close-knit communities, surrounded by voices and warmth and the presence of the multitude. In the Medium, it was deathly quiet; the oceanic pulse and the soft chiming of crystals were the only sounds in your Land.
You were lost and alone, a situation none of you were psychologically equipped to handle. There were six of you, where there had been thousands, working and living together, nearly on top of each other. Isolation was the single most terrifying concept your species could imagine; your very concept of Hell was an eternity of darkness and cold and silence, and you had been thrust into it unprepared.
You called out to the darkness, and the darkness echoed back to you, mocking distortions of your own voices. There were so few of you, and the darkness was so vast.
The Time player was first, surrendering to an Ogre, and no one could tell whether or not it had been deliberate. The Seer of Time, feeling every second pass like an age, another second of death-cold isolation--of course he went first, and it was not long before the rest followed. The Maid of Breath, who had been pleasantly surprised by his title; the Heir of Light, the Rogue of Space, and last the Bard of Heart, who apologized to you before leaving.
And then you were offered a second chance.
Name: Sita Kikise Gender: Not applicable. Sexes of Sita's species are completely indistinguishable. Masculine pronouns are used for convenience, but aren't really appropriate. Species: Chisikeh. Imagine a humanoid sociable weaver, and you've got the gist. Age: Twelve dry seasons, or approximately fourteen human years. Mythological Role: Sage of Life Former planet: Land of Waves and Crystal Former moon: Derse Inherent Abilities: An astounding memory for tunes and a gift for temperature regulation, neither of which are terribly useful. Strife Specibi: spearKind Items they are carrying: Steel spear, small portable computer, basic first-aid kit Personality: Sita is amiable and friendly, but mostly out of habit. Losing his species has turned him into an apathetic shell, and the only thing keeping him going is the hope of a second chance. His species did not evolve to be solitary, and he is bad at making independent decisions; he tends to go along with others.
He does his best to be helpful, again mostly out of habit. He was raised to be dedicated to group well-being, and cannot abide feeling useless. He has an extremely low tolerance for laziness in others, a result of being raised in a society where each individual has a part to play. He had aspired to be a doctor, and has basic medical knowledge
However, he is dedicated more than anything to his chance at salvation. The desire to be reunited with others of his kind is less a feeling than a physical need; isolation is quite literally Hell, and he is willing to do anything to escape it.
I hope that's good enough :>
Last edited by Archaeopteryx; 12-01-2011 at 05:22 PM.
Your name is Luphai Arkate and you are...THE WEIRD OUTCAST. When you were born, you got a genetic mutation that fucked up your brain. You are a really nice person and hate to fight. This is in heavy contrast to your blood colour, blue.
Name: Luphai Arkate
Age: 7 Solar Sweeps
Role: Seer of Souls
Former Planet: Land of Music and Mist
Former Moon: Derse
Strife Specibi: Glovekind
Items: Strong leather gloves that go up to my elbows, and a gemstone fragment.
Last edited by karkat_rules; 12-21-2011 at 06:15 PM.
1337 posts. That used to be a funny internet joke, once.
Your name is HAMISH CONWAY, and you remember too much.
Okay it sounds really dramatic when you put it that way (though when you think about it your life was pretty dramatic). What you mean is that you remember things from more than one lifetime. You remember certain events two different ways, and have trouble telling which one is the “true” memory.
And it all started with Sburb.
You remember joining your friends for this new game, it was meant to be cutting-edge and totally unique. You remember waking up in the Medium despite having no server player (you later found out he was erased from existence, but that’s another story). You remember being contacted by a girl who claimed to be from another universe. You remember following her advice and getting her the code for the item she needed. You remember her somehow murdering you across universes.
But here’s where it gets complicated. You remember waking up in your room on Derse with the vague sensation of having been kissed, and trying to fly back to your planet. But at the same time you remember noticing in your half-dead state that you were being carried, and placed on a flat stone surface. In this second memory you woke up on Derse with an explosion, ascending to godhood before trying to fly back. You remember being confused by the whispers of the horrorterrors, which were much louder in your god form. You remember succumbing to madness and going grimdark in one memory, but just developing a bit of a twitch in the other.
Time flows differently in the Outer Ring. When you finally reached the Land of Books and Silence, two years had passed for you, though it had barely been a few hours for everyone else. You remember your grimdark form flipping out and murdering your friends, with the exception of the Prince of Time who managed to stab you then travelled back in time to stop it all from happening. You remember your normal self confronting the girl who killed you, only to have her murder you again.
You remember dying in both memories.
Name: Hamish Conway. Gender: Male. Species: Human. Age: You were 14 when you began the game, and 16 when you failed. Mythological Role: Duke of Life. Former planet: Land of Books and Silence. Former moon: Derse. Inherent Abilities: None. Strife Specibi: Canekind Items they are carrying: Snakehead cane (weapon). Personality: Hamish is very interested in psychology, and is constantly psychoanalysing everything anyone does (though rarely out loud). He thinks that presentation is important and will always dress in a way he perceives as stylish. He will also refuse to remove his hat, except to swap it for a different one. He’s pretty awkward in social situations, and extremely forgetful, which is a defence mechanism for trying to cope with two sets of memories. He is also completely reliant on coffee, and will find it hard to concentrate without any. He has to be careful not to have too much though, because there’s a fine line between the amount needed to go from Sleepy -> Normal and from Normal -> Hyper.
The reason for Hamish’s dual memories is due to a combination of an anomaly in his session resulting in the Alpha timeline being erased and a formerly doomed timeline becoming the Alpha, and his role as the Duke of Life. As such his life-force is stronger than most, and instead of being erased from the original Alpha his life-force and memories were combined with those on the new timeline.
Your creator shooshes you harshly, as your introduction has begun.
Your name is ALIX ZAMORA and you are currently struggling to stay UNDER CONTROL. Again. In fact, it'll take this paragraph's very being to help you CALM YOUR TITS. It's simply a case of it being TOO DAMN QUIET that has got your panties in a knot. RELAX, sugar lumps, there is noise to come. You have a variety of THINGS that you enjoy doing that don't involve you being a complete and utter FUCKNUTT. For example, you dabble in the THEATRICAL ARTS. In fact, you're EXCEPTIONALLY talented at it. Your friends use to advise you about how it was a step towards your DESTINY. Your very LESBIAN destiny.
Well, now that your previous session is... well, GONE, you needn't worry about them anymore. UNFORTUNATELY this makes you a little upset. Not to imply that your previous game was even SUCCESSFUL. It ended with shit BLOWING THE FUCK UP. And it was sort of YOUR fault. MAYBE you won't FUCK SHIT UP again.
Name: Alix Zamora Tag: belittledPhilosopher Gender: Female Species: Human Age: 15 Mythological Role: Guardian of Knowledge Former planet: Land of Expansion and Possibility Former moon: Prospit Inherent Abilities: No special things for you! Strife Specibi: Bombkind Items: Explosives, Book of Philosophy, Script, Marker, and an empty bag of FRITOS. Likes: Noise. There must always be noise around her. She can't see to think without it. It makes her feel alittle uncomfortable. Even the slightest ticking noise would be fine. Just something she can focous on. Activity in chats are also important. She tends to, when excited, use only one line for a sentence or segement of a sentence. Alix has an eye for detail. She can go on for HOURS about something as simple as what she did five minutes ago. Some people tend to be a little confused or even annoyed when talking with her because of her constant chatter while others find it increasingly interesting and a redeeming quality. As for hobbies, Alix is into philosophy and once you get her started on an interesting topic, it's hard to stop. If you're not looking for a long page of conversation, DO NOT bring up human nature or universal theory. Those are her two strong points and she will NEVER shut up. Alix also enjoys musical theatre. She has often described it as 'It's like everything is always happening. There are never any boring moments, and there's a lot of movement and the musical theme avoids all awkard silences.' Dislikes: Alix doesn't enjoy talking to people she doesn't know well. It took two years for her to finally talk to Astri on a deeper level. Alix is, at first, very reserved and is very wavering in her desisions. This fault does not mix well with her inability to ask people for help. Part is due to stubborness, part is due to the fact that she hates conflict even when it's not conflict. Alix, at first, is quite the strange and misunderstood girl. It takes time and effort to finally get her to open up and when she does she's pretty all over the place, talking about everything that comes to mind. You just have to gain her trust.
Fixed the mibbit link the first post. It just led to Mibbit earlier, but now it leads to the actual chatroom. You can just jam in your nick and go! (nick means nickname)
More importantly, I'm thinking of starting this whole shindig on New Years. Any votes, yay or nay? I want to find a way to let people in after the RP starts, or at least let people reserve spots, so opinions would be great.
Your chumhandle is stuffedAnimal, and you speak しust like this ever since you took those もapanese lessons. You tend to speaklikethis(notimeforspaces) when you're really excited, and LIKE THIS when you're REALLY MAD. You have a variety of intrests, ranging from ARTS (which you suck at drawing humanoids faces), to READING (which you are ACTUALLY PRETTY GOOD AT), to VIDEO GAMES (but you suck at PvP). You wanted to be an ARCHEOLOGIST when you grew up, but then became nervous about big thing's holding up wires. (You can't think of a better name for those at the moment.) Then you decided you wanted to be a TECHNOBIOLOGIST and clone things. Then you read Homestuck.
Also, your full name is [error]
What color does a smurf turn when you choke it?
But how do you summon the batman on a clear night?
If bat symbol summons batman, does pizza symbol summon pizza?
its just like
and then john gets showed up
Of course you should fight fire with fire. You should fight everything with fire.
Fireballs? I use firesquares!
90% of everything is crud.
There's a sucker born every minute.
Easter island was a practical joke that got out of hand.
iim not bii2exual. iim biiwiiniing.
That's the problem with heroes, really. Their only purpose in life is to thwart others. They make no plans, develop no strategies. They react instead of act. Without villains, heroes would stagnate. Without heroes, villains would be running the world. Heroes have morals. Villains have work ethic.
I come in peace. I didn't bring artillery. But I'm pleading with you, with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all.
If no one has ever seen a ninja then how do we know they exist?
The below statement is false
The above statement is true
Upon deflowering a virgin is it appropriate to yell "FIRST!"?
If laughter is the best medicine are mutes terminally ill?
If it's a blackboard why is it green?
If seeing is believing are all blind people atheists?
How do smoke alarms work for deaf people?
If vegetarians eat vegetables what do humanitarians eat?
Why is it called the secret service if everyone knows about it?
Do they sterilize the needles for lethal injection?
Do vegetarians eat animal crackers?
If everyone is unique is everyone still unique?
What happened to the first 6 ups?
If area 51 is the most secret, why haven't we heard about areas 1-50?
Why is "abbreviation" such a long word?
If it's "a penny for your thoughts", and you are "giving your two cents worth", didn't they steal a cent from you?
If pro is the opposite of con. . .
isn't the opposite of progress congress?
isn't the opposite of constitution prostitution?
Shouldn't a completed building be called a built?
What was the best thing before sliced bread? (Note: Chuck Norris.)
What do you yell at a duck to tell it to lower its head?
If dying is mainstream will hipster kitty live forever?
To understand recursion you must understand recursion.
If a snowball is made of snow is a cannonball made of cannon?
Do other foods taste like chicken or does chicken taste like other foods?
If it's in a pool is it still dry humping?
If order 66 was to kill the Jedi what were the first 65 orders?
Are people vegetarian because they love animals or because they hate plants?
Why don't end zones have raid bosses?
Am I a nerd because I like star wars or do I like star wars because I am a nerd?
If a bulldog and a Shih Tzu have puppies are they called bullshits?
If I raise the stakes won't my tent fall over?
How do you send a picture of your cell phone battery?
I can't tell if the cat is a good influence on Belkar or if Belkar is a bad influence on the cat.
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Son, life ain't nothin but bitches and whales. Kill one, impress the other. Just don't get them mixed up.
I am what I am,
I don't want praise, I don't want pity.
Say what I mean, and I don't give a damn,
I do believe that I Am What I Am
And now the wheels of heaven stop
You feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
It is murder.
Are the HorrorTerrors really evil? I mean here they are minding their own glubbing business, when this uppity new universe goes and creates some uber being that gets loose and starts killing your tangle buddies. What, you expect they're not going to be upset? They've seen better universes than yours live and die. What makes yours so special that it can decide squiddles are evil. So what, your heads explode when they cry out in hunger. Just means you are low on the food chain.
Okay, it's official: The SCond RP will begin on New Years' Day. I and the other judges will begin work on the first post.
Until then, we will be accepting profiles and spot reservations. If you don't think you will have a finished profile before the RP begins, post in this topic and get in contact with a judge, and we'll work something out.
Re: SCond.ChanSe 2.0: STRIFE! (OCT + RP) [Open, spots can be reserved until New Years
Name: Ventus Shadus
Age: 7 Sweeps
Mythological Role: Hero of Light
Former planet: Land of Sorcery and Light
Former moon: Prospit
Inherent Abilities: Spells. Lots and Lots of spells.
Strife Specibi: Drillkind and Gauntletkind
Items they are carrying: The DRILLSTAFF and GAUNTLETS that were left for him by his ancestor. Both were originally considered weapons. However, Ventus has modified the gauntlets so that they now instead serve as his main tool for his work in Organic Technology. They still retain the ability to merge with the drill staff to become a fearsome weapon, however. He also has a piece of BIOSYNTHETIC NANOPOLYMER of his own creation. It was difficult to create even a patch of it that was only a few inches wide, but if combined with some other articles of clothing using the Alchemiter, massive amounts can be created if needed. He also has a HIGH-TECH SCOPE for ranged attacks, and a HOLO-EMITTER that has as of yet been unable to be applied practically, but has great potential.
Personality : Ventus is a pretty laid back guy. He usually tries to be kind to most any troll, almost to a fault, in fact. This plus his blatant disregard of the Hemospectrum has many times led him to make mistakes in how he presents himself in conversations with trolls of any Caste, and made him an outcast in troll society. Having been made part of what was supposed to be the Creation of an entire universe was actually quite liberating for him, and gave him a chance to reevaluate himself.
And since I am now clearly reminiscing as to what happened prior to now.
History: As mentioned above, Ventus was laid back, tried to be kind to everyone, but ultimately became an outcast. Also, he used to be a bit of a hypocrite, constantly saying to those he trusted enough to tell that he believed that trolls should be treated equally regardless of blood status, but when pushed far enough would start acting like a typical seadwelling highblood. Being thrown into a session was his only reprieve from such a torrid existence, and gave him his greatest chance to not only start over, but to screw the rules and live his life on his own terms. Ironically, there are three different versions of Ventus, but only one that had managed to make it into a session without it being reset.
Session V1: Ventus was able to enter into the medium, along with all of the other nine trolls that were supposed to enter along with him In this Session he played the role of the Hero of Hope. However, the Two Trolls that played the part of the Hero of Rage and the Hero of Doom flipped their wicked shit in the worst possible way and killed almost all of the other trolls. I say almost because the Heroes of Time and Space managed to get away, find the right scroll, spill the right type of ink on it, and in so doing, reset the session in such a way that their universe would become sessionless. They would be reborn as completely different trolls, and in most if not all cases, would be landed in completely different Castes from before.
Session V2: In this Session, Ventus was to play the Hero of Light. He doesn't know what happened here. All he knows is that he did all he could to fulfill his role. However, once he had finally gone off planet to try and find the others, he found nothing except pools of blood where they each made a futile stand against Dersite forces. He managed to track them down to somewhere on Derse, but all that was left of them there were their bloody and brutally mangled corpses. Ventus was the only survivor. He fled, not knowing where he would go or what he would do now, until he was ultimately taken to where the players of all failed sessions go.
Session V3: Ventus was to be the Hero of Light in this session as well. However, the troll who was supposed to be responsible for getting the game started so that everyone could enter in the medium became unreachable, probably unable to tear himself away from his research. As a result, everyone experienced an inevitable death by meteor impact. The Session was never even able to start.