This Looking For RP topic is marked as closed, meaning it is no longer seeking new players.
I'm still hoping to add another couple of characters to the party before we start, especially of the more technological/mundane sort; so if folks are interested in creating second characters, or if there's anyone else interested in joining, feel free to throw a pitch!
At the end of time, it is the dead who speak on behalf of the living.
You die under a starry night, whether peacefully or violently, and meet a man who calls himself Death. He soothes your final breaths with a tale of a wondrous future, full of extraordinary technologies and supernatural enlightenment, an ever-evolving society extant among uncountable places and times. But he warns that one day all things may end, and that with your help he might protect the cosmos from that doom.
With your final breath, you consent, and as you pass, you feel the touch of annihilation brush your soul before waking in an unlit hall populated by others like you, very much alive and well.
—
This roleplay is a sample platter of high science fiction, a variety of fantasies, and a touch of the cosmological divine. The story is very much oriented towards the future, with a strong focus on mortal humanoids and their threatened success throughout the universes. Humans, aliens, androids, arthroids, and all manner of magical folk are welcome from every walk of life or time or place. A mixture of things is what gives each individual their unique place in the story. What we all have in common is that we die, and that we have been given the opportunity to protect all things from nonexistence.
To be specific, this setting at least includes advanced technology, traditional arcanic magic, spiritual rituals, meditative psionic powers, intuitive supernatural abilities, balancing energy manipulation, and transcendental eldritch divinity. Some societies emphasize one or several, some embrace all things. The characters are free to explore or reject these concepts, but will certainly be exposed to them all throughout their travels as they work against the march of time. Expect dimensional warping and occasional time travel shenanigans. Your characters have a collective guardian angel of sorts.
If you are interested, please write a pitch for your character(s), including a summary of their nature, the circumstances leading to their death, and the driving motivation behind their previous life.
At the end of time, it is the dead who speak on behalf of the living.
You die under a starry night, whether peacefully or violently, and meet a man who calls himself Death. He soothes your final breaths with a tale of a wondrous future, full of extraordinary technologies and supernatural enlightenment, an ever-evolving society extant among uncountable places and times. But he warns that one day all things may end, and that with your help he might protect the cosmos from that doom.
With your final breath, you consent, and as you pass, you feel the touch of annihilation brush your soul before waking in an unlit hall populated by others like you, very much alive and well.
—
This roleplay is a sample platter of high science fiction, a variety of fantasies, and a touch of the cosmological divine. The story is very much oriented towards the future, with a strong focus on mortal humanoids and their threatened success throughout the universes. Humans, aliens, androids, arthroids, and all manner of magical folk are welcome from every walk of life or time or place. A mixture of things is what gives each individual their unique place in the story. What we all have in common is that we die, and that we have been given the opportunity to protect all things from nonexistence.
To be specific, this setting at least includes advanced technology, traditional arcanic magic, spiritual rituals, meditative psionic powers, intuitive supernatural abilities, balancing energy manipulation, and transcendental eldritch divinity. Some societies emphasize one or several, some embrace all things. The characters are free to explore or reject these concepts, but will certainly be exposed to them all throughout their travels as they work against the march of time. Expect dimensional warping and occasional time travel shenanigans. Your characters have a collective guardian angel of sorts.
If you are interested, please write a pitch for your character(s), including a summary of their nature, the circumstances leading to their death, and the driving motivation behind their previous life.
Magic is very common. Magic-tech, grand floating islands, forests that sing, magical creatures may be an every-day occurrence.
Far future, perhaps galactic teleporters and fast terraforming
Combat is woven into the storyline and could come to the forefront if the characters seek it out.
Details: Occasional dice use, adjustable length posts, long-term RP partner preferred.
Hello! I am indeed interested and my pitch is as follows:
Jasmine is what most humans would refer to as an elemental. A fire elemental to be more specific. Born out of the dancing flames, where most is consumed she was created. She is either extremely passionate or disinterested about things with little in the way for middle ground. She is generally warm of nature and caring like a fire on a cold winter's night but when her temper flares people are reminded that fire burns.
She can appear and pass as human for the most part but her irises are windows to the fire that burns within her. Her skin is tan and has hair as red as amber's. She is slender and fit as well.
Her drive is exploration and adventure all the while having fun. She cares for those who need protection and punish those who would abuse or hurt those weaker than them. She was a guardian for those in need.
Her demise was one of mostly bad luck. She was out exploring the coast of the island she resided when she decided to take a rest. The sun was warm and the sound of the ocean relaxed her to a slumber. She meant only for a quick nap but when her eyes opened the weather had drastically changed. Clouds blocked out the sun and the wind grew violent. Then she noticed the tingling pain which woke her. It had started to rain. She got up and ran trying to get back to the safety of her home but before she could get off the beach the waters drew back and came crashing forth. She screamed in pain and the water swet her away. Unable to move from pain she quickly went under and the flames that flickered behind her eyes dimmed until the last spark went out. This was when death greeted her. It was not time for her fire to completely go out.
Jasmine is what most humans would refer to as an elemental. A fire elemental to be more specific. Born out of the dancing flames, where most is consumed she was created. She is either extremely passionate or disinterested about things with little in the way for middle ground. She is generally warm of nature and caring like a fire on a cold winter's night but when her temper flares people are reminded that fire burns.
She can appear and pass as human for the most part but her irises are windows to the fire that burns within her. Her skin is tan and has hair as red as amber's. She is slender and fit as well.
Her drive is exploration and adventure all the while having fun. She cares for those who need protection and punish those who would abuse or hurt those weaker than them. She was a guardian for those in need.
Her demise was one of mostly bad luck. She was out exploring the coast of the island she resided when she decided to take a rest. The sun was warm and the sound of the ocean relaxed her to a slumber. She meant only for a quick nap but when her eyes opened the weather had drastically changed. Clouds blocked out the sun and the wind grew violent. Then she noticed the tingling pain which woke her. It had started to rain. She got up and ran trying to get back to the safety of her home but before she could get off the beach the waters drew back and came crashing forth. She screamed in pain and the water swet her away. Unable to move from pain she quickly went under and the flames that flickered behind her eyes dimmed until the last spark went out. This was when death greeted her. It was not time for her fire to completely go out.
Can I join
This sounds very interesting and I here is my pitch.
Grey was the only known child of Nighe, goddess of lies, shadows and secrets. She was born into a world ruled over by all powerful beings who were worshiped throughout the lands as gods and goddesses. She was not born a demigod, instead she was born the the high priests of the god Slate. When she was only a few days old, her parents were deceived into getting rid of her and the goddess Nighe found the child and raised her. Nighe used her child to complete dangerous tasks and Grey was always eager to help her mother no matter what the risks.
She grew up as an outsider. She looked different and had abilities that most people did not understand. While most demigods were worshiped and revered, she was considered evil and manipulative because of her mother. Not that they were wrong, Grey is undeniably manipulative. She is cunning and only cares about herself and her mother Nighe. She is suspicious of everyone and is a compulsive liar that would do anything to get her way. She is sarcastic and distant, but is protective of those she trusts.
Grey looks different then most. Her skin is stark white as is her hair and one of her eyes is black while the other is a bright blue. She has a slender frame and eyes that seem to big for her head.
Her death was not a huge surprise. She had been sent by her mother to steal an ancient stone that would supposedly unlock the gates to the shadow realm where her mother was trapped, but the thief was unprepared for the danger that came with this task. She managed to sneak past all of the guards undetected but once she found the stone she saw that it was kept in a room filled with light and with no places to hide. She dashed forward, taking the stone from its pedestal and placed it inside of her satchel, but as soon as she did the room started to rumble and the doors flew open, revealing a small army of angry guards. Grey did her best to fight back, but she was armed with only her two twin daggers and stood no chance against the highly trained guards. She somehow managed to push her way past the guards but she was very injured and covered in gaping wounds. She hobbled towards the opening of the cave where the stone had been kept but before she could reach the exit an arrow flew through the air, hitting the young women in her back and stabbing through her heart. All she could manage to do was throw her satchel out of the cave before she collapsed and died before she could even hit the ground
Grey was the only known child of Nighe, goddess of lies, shadows and secrets. She was born into a world ruled over by all powerful beings who were worshiped throughout the lands as gods and goddesses. She was not born a demigod, instead she was born the the high priests of the god Slate. When she was only a few days old, her parents were deceived into getting rid of her and the goddess Nighe found the child and raised her. Nighe used her child to complete dangerous tasks and Grey was always eager to help her mother no matter what the risks.
She grew up as an outsider. She looked different and had abilities that most people did not understand. While most demigods were worshiped and revered, she was considered evil and manipulative because of her mother. Not that they were wrong, Grey is undeniably manipulative. She is cunning and only cares about herself and her mother Nighe. She is suspicious of everyone and is a compulsive liar that would do anything to get her way. She is sarcastic and distant, but is protective of those she trusts.
Grey looks different then most. Her skin is stark white as is her hair and one of her eyes is black while the other is a bright blue. She has a slender frame and eyes that seem to big for her head.
Her death was not a huge surprise. She had been sent by her mother to steal an ancient stone that would supposedly unlock the gates to the shadow realm where her mother was trapped, but the thief was unprepared for the danger that came with this task. She managed to sneak past all of the guards undetected but once she found the stone she saw that it was kept in a room filled with light and with no places to hide. She dashed forward, taking the stone from its pedestal and placed it inside of her satchel, but as soon as she did the room started to rumble and the doors flew open, revealing a small army of angry guards. Grey did her best to fight back, but she was armed with only her two twin daggers and stood no chance against the highly trained guards. She somehow managed to push her way past the guards but she was very injured and covered in gaping wounds. She hobbled towards the opening of the cave where the stone had been kept but before she could reach the exit an arrow flew through the air, hitting the young women in her back and stabbing through her heart. All she could manage to do was throw her satchel out of the cave before she collapsed and died before she could even hit the ground
I wonder how an average, mundane human would fare here?
Rowdy, plucky tomboy Riley was born on the planet M'Draan which, due to the grand-scale manipulations of high politicians looking to profit off the conflict, had been engaged in a centuries-long ear with the neighboring planet of Mortuga. She was raised in this military environment where ones' highest aspiration in life was to die gloriously in battle - as opposed to pathetically in a ditch. It was a lifestyle both dreadful and simplistic - nobody had to worry about their future, for the outcome was destined to be the same. The planets had virtually no contact with other star systems, save for the politicians who contracted supply runs to keep the conflict going. It was a relatively low-tech lifestyle, though moreso for M'Draan than the slightly more advanced Mortuga.
Riley had grown up, more or less, like all the other kids on M'Draan. No mother ever gave birth and expected to have to raise her own child - that would be ludicrous. Rather, birth served as a means of providing new future soldiers and, as compensation for her time and effort outside of combat, the mother would be awarded a higher or more preferable rank or station. So Riley, like everyone else, was taken to one of the heavily-guarded underground facilities designated to raising children.
By some small accident of fate, Riley never quite took to the mindless drone mentality that most of the other kids developed early on. This freed her from the constraints of the virtual lack of free will, but came at the cost of isolating her terribly from the others. Early on, she showed a penchant for the mechanical, and was transferred to the Future Engineers Division at an early age. There, she received only minimal combat, survival and medical training, focusing on the skills necessary to keep war machines warring. Still utterly unable to make a connection with her peers, she delved headlong into her work and, consequently, became one of the most skilled engineers in the batch by the time she graduated to 'Citizen' at seventeen.
Before she could be deployed into action however, something miraculous and terrible happened - the war ended - though with Mortuga coming out on top, after a Mortugan social revolution and a devastating nuclear strike on the M'Draani operational centers. Nobody knew what to do.
So, during the Mortugan occupation of M'Draan, the M'Draan Military became instead the M'Draan Militia - and a guerilla resistance campaign ensued for some years yet, amidst the countless, unspeakable cruelties of the occupying victors.
Riley, however, never got to see the end of the resistance - nor had she ever so much as gotten into the field. Shortly after the resistance started, her Facility - which had become a hub for rebel refugees and Militants alike - was raided by several bands of Mortugan occupants - both official and otherwise. It was a traumatizing and violent day, the tragic outcome of which Riley would not live to see. The attack came so suddenly as to give the Militia no chance to mobilize or organize a defense. As mortars barraged the concrete walls and the chattering of machine gun fire speckled the jungle, Riley was among those merely trying to survive.
She was, much to her misfortune, located by one of the unofficial groups of attackers - little more than glorified looters and raiders using the Mortugan flag as an excuse to pillage and rape - and she found herself, after some hazy time, being loaded with a couple others into a crate.
After some immeasurable time, she found herself on a space station - one of the military command posts that had been overtaken by Mortugan rioters and anarchists, and turned into a hive of debauchery and crime - where a myriad of heinous things were done to her which should not be recounted on a non-adult forum. This was not to imply that all Mortugans were evil barbarians - merely that those who were such had at last their opportunity to go hog-wild.
It ended in a place which would give her phobias of small spaces and extreme cold that would carry over even to her after-life. An airlock garbage chute, which was coffin-sized and just large enough for one claustrophobic person to be locked inside. Whatever sadist was getting off on this was meticulous. Both the inner and outer airlock doors had been opened the tiniest fraction. There was an overwhelming whistle of air as it escaped into space. There was the indescribable cold which burned and penetrated her flesh to the organs and bones, the unstable pressurization which [something something eyeballs] and the perfect balance of vacuum which gave her just enough air to survive, while feeling all the while as though she were unable to breathe at all. To her further torment, M'Dranni genetic engineering had made her very hearty - and hours, upon hours of smothering vacuum, organ-freezing cold and [something something eyeballs] before, after a million eternities had passed, a man called Death appeared in her mind.
Rowdy, plucky tomboy Riley was born on the planet M'Draan which, due to the grand-scale manipulations of high politicians looking to profit off the conflict, had been engaged in a centuries-long ear with the neighboring planet of Mortuga. She was raised in this military environment where ones' highest aspiration in life was to die gloriously in battle - as opposed to pathetically in a ditch. It was a lifestyle both dreadful and simplistic - nobody had to worry about their future, for the outcome was destined to be the same. The planets had virtually no contact with other star systems, save for the politicians who contracted supply runs to keep the conflict going. It was a relatively low-tech lifestyle, though moreso for M'Draan than the slightly more advanced Mortuga.
Riley had grown up, more or less, like all the other kids on M'Draan. No mother ever gave birth and expected to have to raise her own child - that would be ludicrous. Rather, birth served as a means of providing new future soldiers and, as compensation for her time and effort outside of combat, the mother would be awarded a higher or more preferable rank or station. So Riley, like everyone else, was taken to one of the heavily-guarded underground facilities designated to raising children.
By some small accident of fate, Riley never quite took to the mindless drone mentality that most of the other kids developed early on. This freed her from the constraints of the virtual lack of free will, but came at the cost of isolating her terribly from the others. Early on, she showed a penchant for the mechanical, and was transferred to the Future Engineers Division at an early age. There, she received only minimal combat, survival and medical training, focusing on the skills necessary to keep war machines warring. Still utterly unable to make a connection with her peers, she delved headlong into her work and, consequently, became one of the most skilled engineers in the batch by the time she graduated to 'Citizen' at seventeen.
Before she could be deployed into action however, something miraculous and terrible happened - the war ended - though with Mortuga coming out on top, after a Mortugan social revolution and a devastating nuclear strike on the M'Draani operational centers. Nobody knew what to do.
So, during the Mortugan occupation of M'Draan, the M'Draan Military became instead the M'Draan Militia - and a guerilla resistance campaign ensued for some years yet, amidst the countless, unspeakable cruelties of the occupying victors.
Riley, however, never got to see the end of the resistance - nor had she ever so much as gotten into the field. Shortly after the resistance started, her Facility - which had become a hub for rebel refugees and Militants alike - was raided by several bands of Mortugan occupants - both official and otherwise. It was a traumatizing and violent day, the tragic outcome of which Riley would not live to see. The attack came so suddenly as to give the Militia no chance to mobilize or organize a defense. As mortars barraged the concrete walls and the chattering of machine gun fire speckled the jungle, Riley was among those merely trying to survive.
She was, much to her misfortune, located by one of the unofficial groups of attackers - little more than glorified looters and raiders using the Mortugan flag as an excuse to pillage and rape - and she found herself, after some hazy time, being loaded with a couple others into a crate.
After some immeasurable time, she found herself on a space station - one of the military command posts that had been overtaken by Mortugan rioters and anarchists, and turned into a hive of debauchery and crime - where a myriad of heinous things were done to her which should not be recounted on a non-adult forum. This was not to imply that all Mortugans were evil barbarians - merely that those who were such had at last their opportunity to go hog-wild.
It ended in a place which would give her phobias of small spaces and extreme cold that would carry over even to her after-life. An airlock garbage chute, which was coffin-sized and just large enough for one claustrophobic person to be locked inside. Whatever sadist was getting off on this was meticulous. Both the inner and outer airlock doors had been opened the tiniest fraction. There was an overwhelming whistle of air as it escaped into space. There was the indescribable cold which burned and penetrated her flesh to the organs and bones, the unstable pressurization which [something something eyeballs] and the perfect balance of vacuum which gave her just enough air to survive, while feeling all the while as though she were unable to breathe at all. To her further torment, M'Dranni genetic engineering had made her very hearty - and hours, upon hours of smothering vacuum, organ-freezing cold and [something something eyeballs] before, after a million eternities had passed, a man called Death appeared in her mind.
Christopherlt1 wrote:
Can I join
No need to ask; that's what we're all here for! Of course!
All these wonderful characters at once! And from all sorts of differing contexts, too, ooo. This could be great!
Death? For her it had no sway, she was the very goddess of the concept. Her wise nature and kind ways may seem opposite of what one of her kind should act, but she found is helpful in her job. A goddess of beauty and grace, with dark powers used only to help, or give justice to those who seek it.
I'm still hoping to add another couple of characters to the party before we start, especially of the more technological/mundane sort; so if folks are interested in creating second characters, or if there's anyone else interested in joining, feel free to throw a pitch!
I'll have to whip up a profile, but here's something! Hope you like her~!
Lancaster was nearing fifty when she passed, following about the same aging scale as a human, but she's alien. She spent her life until about thirty doing some dark work, part of some sort of gang or crew, though the guilt of their actions constantly chewed away at her. She finally got the courage to split from them and opened up a pawn shop on a smaller planet, building it from scraps of her old ship.
During her living days, she never tried to right her wrongs, not looking to be a hero - just wanting a peaceful life. However, her old crew tracked her down and began exploiting her for a very stressful year until, once their goal was achieved, shooting her in her own shop.
She has highly religious roots. She's a pretty quiet and casual person, though she's a tough nut to crack, rarely showing affection. Though she often complains about any kind of excitement, she's obviously accustomed to it. She's mature and very knowledgable in some zones (piloting, mechanics, bombs, esp.). After her death, she becomes extremely interested in the idea of justice and redemption.
Lancaster was nearing fifty when she passed, following about the same aging scale as a human, but she's alien. She spent her life until about thirty doing some dark work, part of some sort of gang or crew, though the guilt of their actions constantly chewed away at her. She finally got the courage to split from them and opened up a pawn shop on a smaller planet, building it from scraps of her old ship.
During her living days, she never tried to right her wrongs, not looking to be a hero - just wanting a peaceful life. However, her old crew tracked her down and began exploiting her for a very stressful year until, once their goal was achieved, shooting her in her own shop.
She has highly religious roots. She's a pretty quiet and casual person, though she's a tough nut to crack, rarely showing affection. Though she often complains about any kind of excitement, she's obviously accustomed to it. She's mature and very knowledgable in some zones (piloting, mechanics, bombs, esp.). After her death, she becomes extremely interested in the idea of justice and redemption.
I'm going to be pretty busy this weekend, and though I plan to be available again on the 23rd, I may continue to be slow as molasses until I wrap up this paperwork season. Stressy brain makes for noncommittal Sammy, so I'm going to leave the IC for when I've settled down again.
Everybody's characters are so great, and I'm eager to explore a lot of the opportunities we've each chatted about in PMs; I'll let you folks know when I'm feeling good enough to run the IC thread.
To those who may join in the meantime, I may not get to you as quickly as I did the rest, but rest assured I will make sure to do as much before I start!
♥ Thank you all for bearing with me.
Everybody's characters are so great, and I'm eager to explore a lot of the opportunities we've each chatted about in PMs; I'll let you folks know when I'm feeling good enough to run the IC thread.
To those who may join in the meantime, I may not get to you as quickly as I did the rest, but rest assured I will make sure to do as much before I start!
♥ Thank you all for bearing with me.
SUDDENLY REALIZING I HAD THIS TAB OPEN FOR DAYS BUT NEVER ASKED TO JOIN
So uhh gonna flesh out a bit more of my profiles
So uhh gonna flesh out a bit more of my profiles
*Bouncing impatiently anyway*
Hey, Notebook! Am I to presume that you're posting as the character you mean to join with?
**Finally stops bouncing**
Easy there soldier; I may have to ease up on those caffeine rations.
"B-but..."
*Bounces slightly*
*Bounces slightly*
Pfff, better
"More people need to join this thread right now."
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