Okay, I have an idea. If you have a character concept you would like to test out, post it here. Any setting, game or non game. Seriously, whatever you want I can swing with due to the nature of my idea. Character sheets are optional and not required. What is really needed is a character, a person, so get attached to the soul of the character, not the mechanics associated around them. So if you want you can play anything, no matter how broken it might be in a particularly setting. I will promise you I will break back harder though. Dice rolling will be light to non-existant, hence little concerns about stats. Remember, the character is more important than the stats associated with them.
Characters can start off from any genre you desire, but be prepared for a rapid shift towards psychological horror with some cosmic horror elements thrown in. Be prepared for long posts and for providing your own details on things you didn't expect to have to detail out.
Finally, this is a bit experimental and I have no idea how long it might last, but it will hopefully be a touch interesting for the players. Serious roleplayers need only apply.
Any interest?
I have an idea...
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rhoenix
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#2
Name: Yuri Hyuga
Description: Tall man with unruly brown hair, constantly wears a brown trenchcoat. Wears hand claws as weapons.
Abilities: Yuri is one of the few Harmonixers left alive. The power is evidently hereditary, as his father had this same ability.
The abilities of the Harmonixer are nearly always tied together with emotion, and always involves changing form into another being. To gain new abilities, he must visit a certain spot in the depths of his own mind, called The Graveyard. When he visits this place, his body appears to fall into a coma, completely unresponsive to outside influences. Within this place, he is able to see and speak with the "souls" of the monsters that are a part of him somehow, as well as challenge others that might be waiting.
The first beings available are always elemental in nature, and each element reflects a certain aspect of his personality, which comes out in full force if he bonds with that being outside of the Graveyard. He begins with the weakest version of each element, and may "unlock" growth within that element either by destroying enemies of that element, or by some reconciliation on his own with those emotions.
As for his basic elemental changes, each of the six elements has four stages: weak, medium, strong, and full. The weak forms look mostly like Yuri does normally, with some significant clothing, coloration, or even build changes. The medium change looks less human still, and this progression culminates with the full change, which is the strongest version of that sort of emotion (Light is Happiness/Compassion, Fire is Aggression/Anger, Water is Sadness/Despair, Earth is Patience/Calm, Air is Desperation/Nervousness, Dark is Schadenfreude/Depression).
There are other beings that he can bond with in this fashion, but they must be found in the waking world, and their physical forms destroyed.
What troubled Yuri for quite a long time is whether or not those beings' souls or essences are actually imprisoned within him after their forms were destroyed. After two adventures where he (mostly) intentionally saved the world as he knew it, he still doesn't know for sure.
One thing he does know is that the process of "becoming" the other being in the waking world is very painful - unless he simply accepts the other being as a part of him, and not as something taking over his body. Even with his previous experiences, he finds it easy to forget that.
Bio: Born in a small village in Germany in 1905, Yuri's father was an officer in the Japanese army, and his mother was Russian. His father was away quite often for work, but made sure Yuri learned how to fight.
Shortly after Yuri turned 11, he and his mother received a telegram stating that his father was missing on a mission, presumed dead. Two months after that, robbers came to his family's humble house, and robbed the house after murdering his mother while he hid and watched in horror.
After that, he simply left, not knowing what else to do. It was then that he discovered that his father's abilities of the Harmonixer were his as well, but he was only able to manifest a Dark creature, reflecting the darkness within him. This led him to fall for a traveling girl, and he became swept up in events that took him almost all around the world, culminating with him defeating and absorbing the God of Destruction, Amon. By this point, he had grown comfortable enough with himself and his abilities that he had been able to accept the Amon within him afterward, and used that form, with his companions' help, to destroy a summoned being that was intended to wipe the world clean of life. This event earned him his nickname among some, though he never uses it: Godslayer.
Two years after those adventures, he retired to a quiet villa in France, hoping the world would pass him by for a few years. With the aftermath of the Great War (WWI) still settling, he was drawn into what ultimately became another set of adventures with the single stab in the chest with a form of enchanted holly, sealing away his abilities as a Harmonixer. Though he did regain those abilities, that chain of events culminated in his death - which he accepted, that the world might go on without untimely interruption.
Now, he finds himself alive once more, and full of questions.
Description: Tall man with unruly brown hair, constantly wears a brown trenchcoat. Wears hand claws as weapons.
Abilities: Yuri is one of the few Harmonixers left alive. The power is evidently hereditary, as his father had this same ability.
The abilities of the Harmonixer are nearly always tied together with emotion, and always involves changing form into another being. To gain new abilities, he must visit a certain spot in the depths of his own mind, called The Graveyard. When he visits this place, his body appears to fall into a coma, completely unresponsive to outside influences. Within this place, he is able to see and speak with the "souls" of the monsters that are a part of him somehow, as well as challenge others that might be waiting.
The first beings available are always elemental in nature, and each element reflects a certain aspect of his personality, which comes out in full force if he bonds with that being outside of the Graveyard. He begins with the weakest version of each element, and may "unlock" growth within that element either by destroying enemies of that element, or by some reconciliation on his own with those emotions.
As for his basic elemental changes, each of the six elements has four stages: weak, medium, strong, and full. The weak forms look mostly like Yuri does normally, with some significant clothing, coloration, or even build changes. The medium change looks less human still, and this progression culminates with the full change, which is the strongest version of that sort of emotion (Light is Happiness/Compassion, Fire is Aggression/Anger, Water is Sadness/Despair, Earth is Patience/Calm, Air is Desperation/Nervousness, Dark is Schadenfreude/Depression).
There are other beings that he can bond with in this fashion, but they must be found in the waking world, and their physical forms destroyed.
What troubled Yuri for quite a long time is whether or not those beings' souls or essences are actually imprisoned within him after their forms were destroyed. After two adventures where he (mostly) intentionally saved the world as he knew it, he still doesn't know for sure.
One thing he does know is that the process of "becoming" the other being in the waking world is very painful - unless he simply accepts the other being as a part of him, and not as something taking over his body. Even with his previous experiences, he finds it easy to forget that.
Bio: Born in a small village in Germany in 1905, Yuri's father was an officer in the Japanese army, and his mother was Russian. His father was away quite often for work, but made sure Yuri learned how to fight.
Shortly after Yuri turned 11, he and his mother received a telegram stating that his father was missing on a mission, presumed dead. Two months after that, robbers came to his family's humble house, and robbed the house after murdering his mother while he hid and watched in horror.
After that, he simply left, not knowing what else to do. It was then that he discovered that his father's abilities of the Harmonixer were his as well, but he was only able to manifest a Dark creature, reflecting the darkness within him. This led him to fall for a traveling girl, and he became swept up in events that took him almost all around the world, culminating with him defeating and absorbing the God of Destruction, Amon. By this point, he had grown comfortable enough with himself and his abilities that he had been able to accept the Amon within him afterward, and used that form, with his companions' help, to destroy a summoned being that was intended to wipe the world clean of life. This event earned him his nickname among some, though he never uses it: Godslayer.
Two years after those adventures, he retired to a quiet villa in France, hoping the world would pass him by for a few years. With the aftermath of the Great War (WWI) still settling, he was drawn into what ultimately became another set of adventures with the single stab in the chest with a form of enchanted holly, sealing away his abilities as a Harmonixer. Though he did regain those abilities, that chain of events culminated in his death - which he accepted, that the world might go on without untimely interruption.
Now, he finds himself alive once more, and full of questions.
Last edited by rhoenix on Tue Jan 13, 2009 10:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."
- William Gibson
- William Gibson
Josh wrote:What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.
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rhoenix
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#4
Just the first two - not the third. The character fits nicely for the concept, regardless.LadyTevar wrote:Gee, rhoenix, I didn't know you'd played the ShadowHeart games
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."
- William Gibson
- William Gibson
Josh wrote:What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.
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#5
The idea could use a little tweaking, seeing as its a bit of a direct character lift from the game, but I can work with this character. I can work with characters created from settings as diverse as D&D, Vampire, Exalted, Cthulhutech, Unknown Armies, Bunnies and Burrows, movies, video games, literature, you name it I can incorporate it.
And with any luck I'll be able to drive them all screaming mad, causing the players to gape open mouthed at what a horrific, yet magnificent, bastard I am.
And with any luck I'll be able to drive them all screaming mad, causing the players to gape open mouthed at what a horrific, yet magnificent, bastard I am.
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#6
Name: Scott Taylor
Appearance: A young caucasian man in his late teens, standing about 5'10" and weighing approximately 180lbs. His hair is a dark brownish-red and hangs down to his mid-back tied in a neat braid. His brown eyes are obscured through a pair of glasses. Around his mouth is a soul patch and a moustache, the same brown as his hair though more reddish tints are seen within it. Has a tendency towards dark color clothing.
History: Born to a military family in 1983 he spent a good deal of his childhood moving from place to place, country to country throughout Europe and Asia. After many years of painful lessons in why he shouldn't try to make friends when he'd just have to leave them all over again, his father finally retired and settled down. He was already in high school by this point and up until then had been a fairly straight-laced good kid, fairly intelligent and gifted with computers and electronics.
Then he met her... A girl that led him down dark paths and into seduction, who spoke to that place in his soul that yearned for acceptance, for friends, for love. And he found it with her and the chemicals she gave to him. His best friend, his lover, his fondest desire and worst nightmare all rolled into one. She killed him and made him reborn into something else, someone else. And he loved every second of it, even when years later he would come to fear those times, and hate her for it...
Fragile strangleholds on the concrete unshakable dynamic reality of life were broken loose. Chemical substances abused one to many times, that one hit to many, take to gratefully, to late to change ones mind and then he was gone. The driving force behind that once so bright mind had faded, jaded, a spent memory of a life that was never his and was never wanted, a bright nightmare dream of a happier life that he had escaped into a welcome nightmare of drugs, alcohol and partying.
His mind held on by that oh so slight fingertip grasp on that vast chasm-edge between the safe, the sane, the normal, the boring and everyday and the world he had come to know, come to love, hate, fear, loathe and accept, that endless mesmerizing chasm of madness, of terror, of pain, suffering and self-destruction.
Until
He
Slipped...
A mind broken into pieces, a fragile glass sculpture of grey matter and blood, splattered into a million fragments against the inside of his head. The experiances were amazing, terrifying, expanding, depressing. They were everything he wanted them to be, and less. Every drop, every hit, every toke brought him one step closer to that next reality, that next new place where the rules of this world no longer applied, no longer cared. Where he knew, with that one more step over that line that this world that he didn't like would be replaced with another one. And it terrified him.
Reality dissolved around him, became muddled, difficult to determine. What was real and not real? What was phantasm of the mind gone mad and what was solid flesh and bone and sinew? The difference became increasingly hard to tell until he couldn't. By that time he had long since forgotten what he was so worried about in the first place. All these people who talked to him now were his friends, great friends, his best friends. The ones he knew liked him for him and not because he could do something for them. The wrong element, the wrong crowd, to be sure, but they accepted him and that was all that mattered. How many of them were real and how many he simply thought were real is something he'll probably never know. But he's learned that life secret, that what makes something real or not real is inconsequential when he believes it to be real.
Just like he believed she was real...
He had dated her for months, that sweet girl he met. A beautiful thing, far to good for him, so he counted himself lucky that she liked him at all. But it was far more than simple liking for him. He had fallen for her, hard. A desperate yearning to love someone and for someone to love him. A real honest love. And he got it. They loved each other more in those few short months than any had a right to. They enjoyed each other and relished in those times just to be with one another. She was getting him off drugs, getting him back to where he needed to be, away from the people who were screwing him up. And as she brought him higher out of that self-made pit of destruction and hell, she secretly just dug him deeper still.
What few real friends he had began to worry more about him as they noticed him slipping further and further every day into his own world. At first it was the one-sided conversations with people they couldn't see, couldn't hear, those people that existed only to him. But when he started talking of marriage, of a future with someone, they had real cause to intervene. Even with lax marriage laws in some states, it is still rather hard to marry a figment of one's imagination.
It all came crashing down, that bumbling, stumbling, fumbling down. That crashing, dashing, burning, churning, hell-inducing down that leaves you barely clinging to life afraid that you'll die, only to look around a short time later and wish that you would... His life and his heart was shattered, a swift kick to the ass from a cold harsh bitch reality that reinstated itself with blunt force trauma to the soul and mind gone dark from disrepair. The life he had created for himself, the woman of his dreams, the love of his life, had existed only to him. And for those brief months he was the happiest he had ever been. He withdrew into himself, unable to cope with these revelations, unable to any longer truely discern what was real to him and what was real to everyone else. He had met her parents, played with her dog. He had made love to her dozens of times. And none of it real. He reached for the only salvation he could find, a subconcious urge that he knew at the forefront of his brain and yet tried to repress as bad for him.
She had disappeared, was gone for good. A figment of a divided psyche trying to help him and love him as he needed. He went out to find her again...
Abilities: The man is mad. Looney. Insane. Fucked up on a permanent basis. One look in his clouded eyes will tell you that he's not seeing the same reality that everyone else does, that what he sees would probably disturb you. But he seems at peace with it. He's broken, to be sure, unable to differentiate anymore between cold reality and whatever it is that his mind thinks it sees. He no longer knows which of his friends are real or simply exist in his head. He hasn't been sure for a long time that those creatures crawling across his walls and ceiling haven't always been there. At some point he has gone so far off the deep end that he's not even aware he is crazy anymore. Of course if you were to get him to believe you, he may not even care. The horrors that have been played out in his mind for years have left him permanently scarred and crippled mentally.
But for the price of but a moment of your time and a bit of your soul in barter, he will gladly share with you his visions and bring you to his nightmare. He will take you to those twisted places in the labryinth of his mind where graveyard corpses clamor in your thoughts to be let free. There are places in his mind, twisted and dark, that will leave you mad. A city of horrors and terrors beyond the pale. The places he would take you were places where gods and monsters walked the rain-slicked streets openly, where somewhere music plays, harsh and tempting, and somewhere else someone was screaming and begging for the pain to never stop.
All this he gives you willingly. He gives it away cheaply for fear of bottling it up inside. He fears himself, and that which he has become. But most of all he's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't share it and he loses control...
Appearance: A young caucasian man in his late teens, standing about 5'10" and weighing approximately 180lbs. His hair is a dark brownish-red and hangs down to his mid-back tied in a neat braid. His brown eyes are obscured through a pair of glasses. Around his mouth is a soul patch and a moustache, the same brown as his hair though more reddish tints are seen within it. Has a tendency towards dark color clothing.
History: Born to a military family in 1983 he spent a good deal of his childhood moving from place to place, country to country throughout Europe and Asia. After many years of painful lessons in why he shouldn't try to make friends when he'd just have to leave them all over again, his father finally retired and settled down. He was already in high school by this point and up until then had been a fairly straight-laced good kid, fairly intelligent and gifted with computers and electronics.
Then he met her... A girl that led him down dark paths and into seduction, who spoke to that place in his soul that yearned for acceptance, for friends, for love. And he found it with her and the chemicals she gave to him. His best friend, his lover, his fondest desire and worst nightmare all rolled into one. She killed him and made him reborn into something else, someone else. And he loved every second of it, even when years later he would come to fear those times, and hate her for it...
Fragile strangleholds on the concrete unshakable dynamic reality of life were broken loose. Chemical substances abused one to many times, that one hit to many, take to gratefully, to late to change ones mind and then he was gone. The driving force behind that once so bright mind had faded, jaded, a spent memory of a life that was never his and was never wanted, a bright nightmare dream of a happier life that he had escaped into a welcome nightmare of drugs, alcohol and partying.
His mind held on by that oh so slight fingertip grasp on that vast chasm-edge between the safe, the sane, the normal, the boring and everyday and the world he had come to know, come to love, hate, fear, loathe and accept, that endless mesmerizing chasm of madness, of terror, of pain, suffering and self-destruction.
Until
He
Slipped...
A mind broken into pieces, a fragile glass sculpture of grey matter and blood, splattered into a million fragments against the inside of his head. The experiances were amazing, terrifying, expanding, depressing. They were everything he wanted them to be, and less. Every drop, every hit, every toke brought him one step closer to that next reality, that next new place where the rules of this world no longer applied, no longer cared. Where he knew, with that one more step over that line that this world that he didn't like would be replaced with another one. And it terrified him.
Reality dissolved around him, became muddled, difficult to determine. What was real and not real? What was phantasm of the mind gone mad and what was solid flesh and bone and sinew? The difference became increasingly hard to tell until he couldn't. By that time he had long since forgotten what he was so worried about in the first place. All these people who talked to him now were his friends, great friends, his best friends. The ones he knew liked him for him and not because he could do something for them. The wrong element, the wrong crowd, to be sure, but they accepted him and that was all that mattered. How many of them were real and how many he simply thought were real is something he'll probably never know. But he's learned that life secret, that what makes something real or not real is inconsequential when he believes it to be real.
Just like he believed she was real...
He had dated her for months, that sweet girl he met. A beautiful thing, far to good for him, so he counted himself lucky that she liked him at all. But it was far more than simple liking for him. He had fallen for her, hard. A desperate yearning to love someone and for someone to love him. A real honest love. And he got it. They loved each other more in those few short months than any had a right to. They enjoyed each other and relished in those times just to be with one another. She was getting him off drugs, getting him back to where he needed to be, away from the people who were screwing him up. And as she brought him higher out of that self-made pit of destruction and hell, she secretly just dug him deeper still.
What few real friends he had began to worry more about him as they noticed him slipping further and further every day into his own world. At first it was the one-sided conversations with people they couldn't see, couldn't hear, those people that existed only to him. But when he started talking of marriage, of a future with someone, they had real cause to intervene. Even with lax marriage laws in some states, it is still rather hard to marry a figment of one's imagination.
It all came crashing down, that bumbling, stumbling, fumbling down. That crashing, dashing, burning, churning, hell-inducing down that leaves you barely clinging to life afraid that you'll die, only to look around a short time later and wish that you would... His life and his heart was shattered, a swift kick to the ass from a cold harsh bitch reality that reinstated itself with blunt force trauma to the soul and mind gone dark from disrepair. The life he had created for himself, the woman of his dreams, the love of his life, had existed only to him. And for those brief months he was the happiest he had ever been. He withdrew into himself, unable to cope with these revelations, unable to any longer truely discern what was real to him and what was real to everyone else. He had met her parents, played with her dog. He had made love to her dozens of times. And none of it real. He reached for the only salvation he could find, a subconcious urge that he knew at the forefront of his brain and yet tried to repress as bad for him.
She had disappeared, was gone for good. A figment of a divided psyche trying to help him and love him as he needed. He went out to find her again...
Abilities: The man is mad. Looney. Insane. Fucked up on a permanent basis. One look in his clouded eyes will tell you that he's not seeing the same reality that everyone else does, that what he sees would probably disturb you. But he seems at peace with it. He's broken, to be sure, unable to differentiate anymore between cold reality and whatever it is that his mind thinks it sees. He no longer knows which of his friends are real or simply exist in his head. He hasn't been sure for a long time that those creatures crawling across his walls and ceiling haven't always been there. At some point he has gone so far off the deep end that he's not even aware he is crazy anymore. Of course if you were to get him to believe you, he may not even care. The horrors that have been played out in his mind for years have left him permanently scarred and crippled mentally.
But for the price of but a moment of your time and a bit of your soul in barter, he will gladly share with you his visions and bring you to his nightmare. He will take you to those twisted places in the labryinth of his mind where graveyard corpses clamor in your thoughts to be let free. There are places in his mind, twisted and dark, that will leave you mad. A city of horrors and terrors beyond the pale. The places he would take you were places where gods and monsters walked the rain-slicked streets openly, where somewhere music plays, harsh and tempting, and somewhere else someone was screaming and begging for the pain to never stop.
All this he gives you willingly. He gives it away cheaply for fear of bottling it up inside. He fears himself, and that which he has become. But most of all he's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't share it and he loses control...
Saint Annihilus - Patron Saint of Dealing with Stupid Customers
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Academia Nut
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#7
Oh yeah, now there's the stuff I'm looking for.
Hmm... since the two of you and Comrade Tortoise are the only two who have expressed interest so far, perhaps I will start the actual story tonight, but I haven't quite decided yet. Soon though.
In any case, for those of you who have signed up. The first post you will make in the active game will be to introduce your character and then kill them somehow. Start thinking on it, for death is only the beginning...
Hmm... since the two of you and Comrade Tortoise are the only two who have expressed interest so far, perhaps I will start the actual story tonight, but I haven't quite decided yet. Soon though.
In any case, for those of you who have signed up. The first post you will make in the active game will be to introduce your character and then kill them somehow. Start thinking on it, for death is only the beginning...
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Academia Nut
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#8
Game thread is now up
For those of you who have definitively joined, please make a post at your leisure introducing your character. Then I want you to kill them off. For those of you who are somewhat interested but want more information, stay tuned. It's very easy to start after the game has begun, but I am intentionally keep things enigmatic and details close to my chest. This should be... interesting.
For those of you who have definitively joined, please make a post at your leisure introducing your character. Then I want you to kill them off. For those of you who are somewhat interested but want more information, stay tuned. It's very easy to start after the game has begun, but I am intentionally keep things enigmatic and details close to my chest. This should be... interesting.
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Academia Nut
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#10
Now we wait for rhoenix to post, then I start with the attempted psychic assault and a battery.
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frigidmagi
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#11
If I may be so bold as to offer an opinion, this whole thing is a bit to vague I think.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
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Academia Nut
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#12
Okay my lovely players, it is reaction time. I want you to each describe the rooms you find yourself in with greater detail, in particular the 'statues' around you. rhoenix, those masks from the Graveyard in Shadow Hearts might be a good inspiration point.
Of course, your reactions during the whole awakening process are also desired.
Of course, your reactions during the whole awakening process are also desired.
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rhoenix
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#13
Oh, then this will be pure fun. Can I have them talk?Academia Nut wrote:Okay my lovely players, it is reaction time. I want you to each describe the rooms you find yourself in with greater detail, in particular the 'statues' around you. rhoenix, those masks from the Graveyard in Shadow Hearts might be a good inspiration point.
Of course, your reactions during the whole awakening process are also desired.
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."
- William Gibson
- William Gibson
Josh wrote:What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.
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B4UTRUST
- Dance Puppets Dance
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#14
Talking? Please. I'll be lucky if mine aren't rutting like some dark horny hell-beast while devouring each other from the head down just for shits and giggles. Then I'm sure the torture would start...
Saint Annihilus - Patron Saint of Dealing with Stupid Customers
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rhoenix
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#15
I hope one of them has a camera. You'd make a mint.B4UTRUST wrote:Talking? Please. I'll be lucky if mine aren't rutting like some dark horny hell-beast while devouring each other from the head down just for shits and giggles. Then I'm sure the torture would start...
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."
- William Gibson
- William Gibson
Josh wrote:What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.
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Academia Nut
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#17
Ahem, despite what the voices in your head might say, do NOT stare overly long at the symbols rhoenix's character uncovered for hidden meanings. Instead, read between the symbols.
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Academia Nut
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#18
For my players and those still interested, here's a little mood music:
Dream of Mirrors
And thanks to B4UTRUST
Invisible Wounds (Dark Bodies)
Dream of Mirrors
And thanks to B4UTRUST
Invisible Wounds (Dark Bodies)
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rhoenix
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#19
Ok, they've been bugging me long enough. I'm just going to ignore them for now, otherwise I'll never post.Academia Nut wrote:Ahem, despite what the voices in your head might say, do NOT stare overly long at the symbols rhoenix's character uncovered for hidden meanings. Instead, read between the symbols.
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem, make sure that you are not, in fact, just surrounded by assholes."
- William Gibson
- William Gibson
Josh wrote:What? There's nothing weird about having a pet housefly. He smuggles cigarettes for me.
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Academia Nut
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#20
Sigh... that worked far better than I thought. I'm making use of tiny text to hide possible messages. The mishmash of symbols was just camouflage for the fact that I put in tiny text at all.