The Admiral
the star of the masquerade
Attention all RPers: I am creating this RP as a joint project with Cenodoxus. Thus, we both function as dual GMs. We can both accept or deny sign-ups.
Also, be warned ahead of time that this RP will involve some violence (think in terms of Final Fantasy type of stuff) and there will be occasional swearing. There may be the occasional scene involving alcohol or tobacco, but that will mostly be average townsfolk doing so. Keep it within that sort of limit, fellas. No sexual content or anything stronger than what we've listed unless you get this run by both of us. If we agree, you will have to post our approval message. If not, you may not post it. If you do, we will ask you to remove the post. If you keep up, we may have to see you removed. Sorry, but I don't want it spiralling too far into oblivion.
By "sexual content" I do not mean any characters having sex or rape or, you know, to THAT extent. Keep it in your pants, ladies and gentlemen.
Also, violence does not include graphic dismemberment, torture, graphic descriptions of blood, guts, gore, and organ spewing, that kind of thing. Most of you know better, anyway.
The once-great Empire of Man from the year 2012 C.E. has collapsed almost entirely. The year corresponds to 2062 C.E., known as 50 G.E. (Genocide Era) to most humans. Once, Man was a powerful race – now he squirms in the alleys like the Rat – unless he is a soldier. Man has waged war with man often, but now Man is in a wretched state. Mankind has lost its gift.
A fairytale, thrown aside as nonsense, was spread during the late 20th century C.E. unto the 21st Century A.D., telling of Man falling from grace a second time, the Gift, which allowed their species to succeed, being stolen from them.
“It once so happened, or so they say, that Man used to be immortal, and he would roam the land with sure and mighty footsteps, for He was the most beautiful and gracious of all creatures on this great wide world.
And as He passed, all the beasts bowed their heads in admiration and respect, and nobody dared touch the race of Man. The most mortal of monsters, the most striking of flowers, would bend in the presence of Him, for He was incomparable and obviously destined to be the great leader of the Universe.
Man was so powerful because He had the gift granted by the Creator Himself, and He was made in His image. They both shared something so sacred and so beautiful, something that every other living thing desired but never obtained, that it set the entire race far above all other creation. This mythical thing was something that nobody today would understand, because we have never experienced it.
After all, one dreadful day a Demon appeared from the sky. He was horrid and breathed a putrid stink that killed everything in its path. He would set fire to forests and turn them to ashes in a matter of days, or cast deep freezes on even the warmest places, soon driving all life away.
Feeling threatened and wanting to protect His world, Man sought to fight this Demon and drive him away forever. A great battle ensued, where all of Man’s children joined in a giant army and charged against the Demon, attacking it with the force of their special Gift.
But the Demon was very strong. Even the greatest charges and strongest blows of Man’s race did not affect him at all, and soon he plowed through the opposing army as if stomping across a forest littered with twigs. Man’s numbers waned every day, and the Demon showed no signs of slowing down. The creatures of the world were worried, for they didn’t know if Man could defeat His enemy anymore, and if He couldn’t, then they all were doomed.
The fighting continued for hundreds of years. Men were born and grew to fight the Demon, then died by his hand. He continued in his path of destruction, immortal and unstoppable, until there was only one Man left.
The lonesome one, having watched all of His friends die, shivered and fell to his knees, and prayed to the Creator that He had once thought to never need again. He asked humbly for assistance, for salvation, and raised his clamor to the turning skies.
But the skies remained silent. The Creator never seemed to listen or reply.
And as the Demon’s giant shadow loomed over the last Man alive, he raised his great claw, stained with the blood of so many warriors, and reached into the very core of Him, and took his sacred Gift. Then, he swallowed it whole, and Man was left defenseless, graceless and fallen, like every other living thing on our world.
But that was all that the Demon needed. After devouring the Gift, he rose to his own realm separate from ours, sleeping with satisfaction and vengeance, with the Gift safely clutched by his jaws.
In his place, an egg was left.
From this egg, the first Woman was born, fallen like Man, and together they became the father and mother of Humanity. Their Gift was never returned, and their Creator never listened again.”
While there is no proof that such an unbelievable thing ever happened, Humanity is indeed in shambles today. The story was passed down through the ages through an unbreakable tradition – unbreakable, even in the face of war, poverty, and impossible living conditions. The air grows toxic with the constant explosions of black powder from rifles and from cannons.
The ancient fairytale is still passed on in manual disc players and wax cylinders, both primitive by our standards. Laser disc players, oxide tape cassette players, digital players—they exist no longer as humanity has lost the technology for their creation. Wire recordings are never used to transmit it. And all these items are moved under the table, from hand to hand in cracked cases or inconspicuous wraps of clothing, for the Government despises the tale. Nonsense, pointless rubbish, they say—society has no need for such an idiotic distraction. Fantastic writings such as these serve no purpose to a highly developed human workforce as ours, they say.
The time of Man grows short, however. This Gift—whatever it is—starves the soul, and rumors have it that many a good man outside the city has become a depraved monster, driven crazy by the hunger.
And yet the Gift whispers its secrets and blessings in the greatest silences, to only a few. Eight individuals will be given the Gift in the form of a weapon - the weapons that will be used to overthrow the oppression, to reach the Ladder, to find the Demon and to recover the gift for the progression of Humanity. The Gift calls to you; you are one of those eight.
And you have not answered this call.
A few days ago, a bomb went off in the East wing of the Government’s Palace. It caused massive damage to the structure; the first-ever rebel attempt against the Government. Something is turning in the world.
The Gift still calls.
Name: Your names can come from anywhere you feel like.
Gender:
Age: 13-17
Physical Appearance: They don't necessarily have to be ragged-looking. The government tries to give student-age characters, like yours, good lives.
Personality:
Selected Element: Your Beat Arm, the weapon trusted to you by the Gift, will have a specific element tied to it. Pick the element from the list further down.
Beat Arm: Your Beat Arm must be a weapon, but there are no limitations as to what kind. Describe it here, and also name it.
Refrain: The Refrain is a special form that your character accesses when in extreme emotion stress, which causes a stronger link to the Gift’s harmony to form. The effects of your Refrain can be anything, from increased power to a transformation. Describe them here.
Because this RPG is musically-themed and carries many such references, we feel that each character should also be a reference to a specific band/artist in subjects such as Name, Beat Arm and Refrain. We would appreciate it if you did such a thing with your character, and mentioned which band/artist they are a reference to outside the sign-up.
Elements List
Each weapon is bound to a specific element, which grants the wielder power over it.
FIRE
-The wielder is resistant to extremely high temperatures
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of flames, but not produce them
ICE
-The wielder is resistant to extremely low temperatures
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of ice, as well as freeze water
THUNDER
-The wielder is resistant to electrocution
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of electricity, but not produce it
WATER
-The wielder can breathe while underwater
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of water, but not produce it
WIND
-The wielder can survive without oxygen
-The wielder can control the direction and strength of wind force
LIGHT
-The wielder can shift to thermal vision at will
-The wielder can create physically damaging “light energy” and shape it, but power is proportional to emotional state (the better, the stronger)
EARTH
-The wielder has a much better sense of balance than the average person
-The wielder can cause seismic activity of varying intensity in his/her immediate area, as well as control the movement of sand and dirt
DARKNESS
-The wielder can drain life force from other living things through prolonged touch
-The wielder can create physically damaging “dark energy” and shape it, but power is inversely proportional to physical state (the worse, the stronger)
Name: Turnus "Renaissance Man" Garrett
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Physical appearance: Turnus wears black-lens sunglasses and dark clothes, wearing a plain black shirt and a black leather jacket over it. His black hair is often seen in disarray and probably hasn’t been cut in about five years. He doesn’t really express himself facially, either. He wears polished black shoes and long pants of a variety of dark colors. If his sunglasses are removed, his heterochromic eyes, both a shade of brown – the right is a lighter shade than the left – will stare right into yours – this is reflexive for some reason.
It should be noted that he never takes off the coat or the shirt, and these are the only items of his clothing which never change. Sometimes he’ll wear other items over them, though, if it gets cold or if conditions call for them otherwise. He also smokes from time to time.
Personality: Turnus is scarily cheery a person for as bad the conditions are. He has an optimistic outlook on most things and always feels things have a chance to get better. Sound stereotypical? Good, because that’s really not who he is. Tullus is not especially optimistic, nor pessimistic. He thinks things are not likely to change, but if they do they will probably change for the better. He’s a lot angrier than he needs to be, really, but it doesn’t seem to hinder him very often. He’d be the one to lead a charge, but he’s smart enough, and has been told enough by his father, a soldier, about war enough, that he knows tactics are needed first. Simultaneously, if the party has to run, he’d function as the rear guard, holding the enemy back long enough for the team to escape. He’s more than a little suicidal at times, but he also has an “always prepared” side. He’s not the lead tactician of the group, obviously.
Element: WIND
Beat Arm: Gravelrash: Gravelrash is a pair of handheld cannon-weapons. They shoot balls of rock in an arch pattern. When they strike an opponent, they explode into a rather large blast of shrapnel. The shrapnel remains on the ground for quite some time and will affect any land targets who step in it. These weapons shoot rather slowly.
Refrain: When Turnus activates his Refrain, as part of a transformation, his weapon changes. Instead of wielding Gravelrash, he now wields a pair of chained flail-like weapons. These new weapons are very light and, actually, not all that unwieldly. They are basically overgrown metallic bullroarers called, well, Bullroarers. In the transformed form – called Maralinga – he is also accompanied by four little robots which look like large military mosquitos whose mouth parts are replaced by chainsaw noses (picture). They are controlled entirely by Turnus' thoughts. The Maralinga form permits some limited-speed, limited-elevation flight – basically meaning that he can hover off the ground. When a target is struck by one of the Bullroarers, they can be swung around as if chained up, and then they can be launched off into the distance. For some reason, when Turnus switched off from Maralinga form, the Bullroarers do not convert immediately.
Other: The referenced band is Midnight Oil. "Gravelrash," "Bullroarer," "Maralinga," and "Renaissance Man" are all names of songs. The mosquitos are taken from a single cover. Garrett is the lead singer's surname.
Oh, yeah, and for those of you who are wondering, you don’t have a history for a reason. To this point, none of you are special at all. You’re just a bunch of teens, sons and daughters of soldiers or of workers, being conditioned slowly to conform to the needs of Society. You are, until the beginning of this storyline, really nothing more than a nameless, faceless drone; you are still at the age of a student, and so you’re really not even that. However, Society is preparing you to become this, and you have not been called upon by the Gift. Also, you do not possess your Beat Arms at the beginning of the RPG. They will be given to you in your first post.
FIRE: Taken by Saffire Persian
ICE: Taken by Kyuubii
THUNDER: Taken by Ze Cookie Fairy
WATER: Taken by ME2
WIND: Taken by Tempus Fugit
LIGHT: Taken by Sonozaki Maya
EARTH: Taken by Kenta007
DARKNESS: Taken by Cenodoxus
Also, be warned ahead of time that this RP will involve some violence (think in terms of Final Fantasy type of stuff) and there will be occasional swearing. There may be the occasional scene involving alcohol or tobacco, but that will mostly be average townsfolk doing so. Keep it within that sort of limit, fellas. No sexual content or anything stronger than what we've listed unless you get this run by both of us. If we agree, you will have to post our approval message. If not, you may not post it. If you do, we will ask you to remove the post. If you keep up, we may have to see you removed. Sorry, but I don't want it spiralling too far into oblivion.
By "sexual content" I do not mean any characters having sex or rape or, you know, to THAT extent. Keep it in your pants, ladies and gentlemen.
Also, violence does not include graphic dismemberment, torture, graphic descriptions of blood, guts, gore, and organ spewing, that kind of thing. Most of you know better, anyway.
One thing's for sure
That it's still the same
That young folk die
For some noble aim
And they live so fast
And they die so young
And we just keep wondering
What the hell went wrong?
‘Cause they live so fast
But they die so young
And we just keep wondering
What goes on?
That it's still the same
That young folk die
For some noble aim
And they live so fast
And they die so young
And we just keep wondering
What the hell went wrong?
‘Cause they live so fast
But they die so young
And we just keep wondering
What goes on?
The once-great Empire of Man from the year 2012 C.E. has collapsed almost entirely. The year corresponds to 2062 C.E., known as 50 G.E. (Genocide Era) to most humans. Once, Man was a powerful race – now he squirms in the alleys like the Rat – unless he is a soldier. Man has waged war with man often, but now Man is in a wretched state. Mankind has lost its gift.
A fairytale, thrown aside as nonsense, was spread during the late 20th century C.E. unto the 21st Century A.D., telling of Man falling from grace a second time, the Gift, which allowed their species to succeed, being stolen from them.
“It once so happened, or so they say, that Man used to be immortal, and he would roam the land with sure and mighty footsteps, for He was the most beautiful and gracious of all creatures on this great wide world.
And as He passed, all the beasts bowed their heads in admiration and respect, and nobody dared touch the race of Man. The most mortal of monsters, the most striking of flowers, would bend in the presence of Him, for He was incomparable and obviously destined to be the great leader of the Universe.
Man was so powerful because He had the gift granted by the Creator Himself, and He was made in His image. They both shared something so sacred and so beautiful, something that every other living thing desired but never obtained, that it set the entire race far above all other creation. This mythical thing was something that nobody today would understand, because we have never experienced it.
After all, one dreadful day a Demon appeared from the sky. He was horrid and breathed a putrid stink that killed everything in its path. He would set fire to forests and turn them to ashes in a matter of days, or cast deep freezes on even the warmest places, soon driving all life away.
Feeling threatened and wanting to protect His world, Man sought to fight this Demon and drive him away forever. A great battle ensued, where all of Man’s children joined in a giant army and charged against the Demon, attacking it with the force of their special Gift.
But the Demon was very strong. Even the greatest charges and strongest blows of Man’s race did not affect him at all, and soon he plowed through the opposing army as if stomping across a forest littered with twigs. Man’s numbers waned every day, and the Demon showed no signs of slowing down. The creatures of the world were worried, for they didn’t know if Man could defeat His enemy anymore, and if He couldn’t, then they all were doomed.
The fighting continued for hundreds of years. Men were born and grew to fight the Demon, then died by his hand. He continued in his path of destruction, immortal and unstoppable, until there was only one Man left.
The lonesome one, having watched all of His friends die, shivered and fell to his knees, and prayed to the Creator that He had once thought to never need again. He asked humbly for assistance, for salvation, and raised his clamor to the turning skies.
But the skies remained silent. The Creator never seemed to listen or reply.
And as the Demon’s giant shadow loomed over the last Man alive, he raised his great claw, stained with the blood of so many warriors, and reached into the very core of Him, and took his sacred Gift. Then, he swallowed it whole, and Man was left defenseless, graceless and fallen, like every other living thing on our world.
But that was all that the Demon needed. After devouring the Gift, he rose to his own realm separate from ours, sleeping with satisfaction and vengeance, with the Gift safely clutched by his jaws.
In his place, an egg was left.
From this egg, the first Woman was born, fallen like Man, and together they became the father and mother of Humanity. Their Gift was never returned, and their Creator never listened again.”
While there is no proof that such an unbelievable thing ever happened, Humanity is indeed in shambles today. The story was passed down through the ages through an unbreakable tradition – unbreakable, even in the face of war, poverty, and impossible living conditions. The air grows toxic with the constant explosions of black powder from rifles and from cannons.
The ancient fairytale is still passed on in manual disc players and wax cylinders, both primitive by our standards. Laser disc players, oxide tape cassette players, digital players—they exist no longer as humanity has lost the technology for their creation. Wire recordings are never used to transmit it. And all these items are moved under the table, from hand to hand in cracked cases or inconspicuous wraps of clothing, for the Government despises the tale. Nonsense, pointless rubbish, they say—society has no need for such an idiotic distraction. Fantastic writings such as these serve no purpose to a highly developed human workforce as ours, they say.
The time of Man grows short, however. This Gift—whatever it is—starves the soul, and rumors have it that many a good man outside the city has become a depraved monster, driven crazy by the hunger.
And yet the Gift whispers its secrets and blessings in the greatest silences, to only a few. Eight individuals will be given the Gift in the form of a weapon - the weapons that will be used to overthrow the oppression, to reach the Ladder, to find the Demon and to recover the gift for the progression of Humanity. The Gift calls to you; you are one of those eight.
And you have not answered this call.
A few days ago, a bomb went off in the East wing of the Government’s Palace. It caused massive damage to the structure; the first-ever rebel attempt against the Government. Something is turning in the world.
The Gift still calls.
It's such a shame
Such a useless shame
That they have to play
Such a hopeless game
And it makes me shake
Makes me shake with rage
For a wasted life
For nothing gained
‘Cause they die so fast
And they die so young
And we just keep wondering
What goes on?
The GATES of DAWN
Such a useless shame
That they have to play
Such a hopeless game
And it makes me shake
Makes me shake with rage
For a wasted life
For nothing gained
‘Cause they die so fast
And they die so young
And we just keep wondering
What goes on?
The GATES of DAWN
Name: Your names can come from anywhere you feel like.
Gender:
Age: 13-17
Physical Appearance: They don't necessarily have to be ragged-looking. The government tries to give student-age characters, like yours, good lives.
Personality:
Selected Element: Your Beat Arm, the weapon trusted to you by the Gift, will have a specific element tied to it. Pick the element from the list further down.
Beat Arm: Your Beat Arm must be a weapon, but there are no limitations as to what kind. Describe it here, and also name it.
Refrain: The Refrain is a special form that your character accesses when in extreme emotion stress, which causes a stronger link to the Gift’s harmony to form. The effects of your Refrain can be anything, from increased power to a transformation. Describe them here.
Because this RPG is musically-themed and carries many such references, we feel that each character should also be a reference to a specific band/artist in subjects such as Name, Beat Arm and Refrain. We would appreciate it if you did such a thing with your character, and mentioned which band/artist they are a reference to outside the sign-up.
Elements List
Each weapon is bound to a specific element, which grants the wielder power over it.
FIRE
-The wielder is resistant to extremely high temperatures
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of flames, but not produce them
ICE
-The wielder is resistant to extremely low temperatures
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of ice, as well as freeze water
THUNDER
-The wielder is resistant to electrocution
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of electricity, but not produce it
WATER
-The wielder can breathe while underwater
-The wielder can control the shape and direction of water, but not produce it
WIND
-The wielder can survive without oxygen
-The wielder can control the direction and strength of wind force
LIGHT
-The wielder can shift to thermal vision at will
-The wielder can create physically damaging “light energy” and shape it, but power is proportional to emotional state (the better, the stronger)
EARTH
-The wielder has a much better sense of balance than the average person
-The wielder can cause seismic activity of varying intensity in his/her immediate area, as well as control the movement of sand and dirt
DARKNESS
-The wielder can drain life force from other living things through prolonged touch
-The wielder can create physically damaging “dark energy” and shape it, but power is inversely proportional to physical state (the worse, the stronger)
Name: Turnus "Renaissance Man" Garrett
Gender: Male
Age: 16
Physical appearance: Turnus wears black-lens sunglasses and dark clothes, wearing a plain black shirt and a black leather jacket over it. His black hair is often seen in disarray and probably hasn’t been cut in about five years. He doesn’t really express himself facially, either. He wears polished black shoes and long pants of a variety of dark colors. If his sunglasses are removed, his heterochromic eyes, both a shade of brown – the right is a lighter shade than the left – will stare right into yours – this is reflexive for some reason.
It should be noted that he never takes off the coat or the shirt, and these are the only items of his clothing which never change. Sometimes he’ll wear other items over them, though, if it gets cold or if conditions call for them otherwise. He also smokes from time to time.
Personality: Turnus is scarily cheery a person for as bad the conditions are. He has an optimistic outlook on most things and always feels things have a chance to get better. Sound stereotypical? Good, because that’s really not who he is. Tullus is not especially optimistic, nor pessimistic. He thinks things are not likely to change, but if they do they will probably change for the better. He’s a lot angrier than he needs to be, really, but it doesn’t seem to hinder him very often. He’d be the one to lead a charge, but he’s smart enough, and has been told enough by his father, a soldier, about war enough, that he knows tactics are needed first. Simultaneously, if the party has to run, he’d function as the rear guard, holding the enemy back long enough for the team to escape. He’s more than a little suicidal at times, but he also has an “always prepared” side. He’s not the lead tactician of the group, obviously.
Element: WIND
Beat Arm: Gravelrash: Gravelrash is a pair of handheld cannon-weapons. They shoot balls of rock in an arch pattern. When they strike an opponent, they explode into a rather large blast of shrapnel. The shrapnel remains on the ground for quite some time and will affect any land targets who step in it. These weapons shoot rather slowly.
Refrain: When Turnus activates his Refrain, as part of a transformation, his weapon changes. Instead of wielding Gravelrash, he now wields a pair of chained flail-like weapons. These new weapons are very light and, actually, not all that unwieldly. They are basically overgrown metallic bullroarers called, well, Bullroarers. In the transformed form – called Maralinga – he is also accompanied by four little robots which look like large military mosquitos whose mouth parts are replaced by chainsaw noses (picture). They are controlled entirely by Turnus' thoughts. The Maralinga form permits some limited-speed, limited-elevation flight – basically meaning that he can hover off the ground. When a target is struck by one of the Bullroarers, they can be swung around as if chained up, and then they can be launched off into the distance. For some reason, when Turnus switched off from Maralinga form, the Bullroarers do not convert immediately.
Other: The referenced band is Midnight Oil. "Gravelrash," "Bullroarer," "Maralinga," and "Renaissance Man" are all names of songs. The mosquitos are taken from a single cover. Garrett is the lead singer's surname.
Oh, yeah, and for those of you who are wondering, you don’t have a history for a reason. To this point, none of you are special at all. You’re just a bunch of teens, sons and daughters of soldiers or of workers, being conditioned slowly to conform to the needs of Society. You are, until the beginning of this storyline, really nothing more than a nameless, faceless drone; you are still at the age of a student, and so you’re really not even that. However, Society is preparing you to become this, and you have not been called upon by the Gift. Also, you do not possess your Beat Arms at the beginning of the RPG. They will be given to you in your first post.
FIRE: Taken by Saffire Persian
ICE: Taken by Kyuubii
THUNDER: Taken by Ze Cookie Fairy
WATER: Taken by ME2
WIND: Taken by Tempus Fugit
LIGHT: Taken by Sonozaki Maya
EARTH: Taken by Kenta007
DARKNESS: Taken by Cenodoxus
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