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 Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 11:06 am
▸ You are to write a roleplay response to the theme given. In this response, you should give a good idea of how you would play this character, and what kind of personality you would give him. This entry does not DETERMINE anything of your character should you win him. :3
▸▸ Roleplay Theme ▸▸ Your character has accidentally tampered with forbidden necromancy magic, and has revived ______ (Something terrible you must invent.) and now has to either destroy it, control it, or send it back to where it came from.
▸ The 12th of November is the last day to get your entry in. You may also write for any other characters that are up, but you cannot win both, so please keep that in mind.
▸ On the 13th of November, the staff will choose the entries they like the most, and put them in a pile, to draw from randomly. Good luck!
[b]Character Name:[/b]
[b]Player Name:[/b]
Race: Exorcisma
Birthmark/Pupil Marking: Saturn. (Do not change this, this is for your use only.)
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2011 5:52 pm
Character Name: Cronus Serik (Cronus - Greek god of time/heavens a.k.a. Saturn, Serik fake "elvish" for time, might)
Player Name: Evelastina
Race: Exorcisma
Birthmark/Pupil Marking: Saturn. (Do not change this, this is for your use only.)
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"This will not do.." muttered the Exorcisma. Cronus shook his head at the abomination that stood, frozen in time, just inches from his face. It was being held in place by the witch's powers governing time, but only for a short while. He had to devise a plan. For a moment, he studied the creature. It looked, at a glance, like a stuffed beast, mounted in someone's study like a trophy prize. But he knew better, that the arcane sigil at its feet would wear off in minutes. It was all bone. Its poise reminiscent of a great cat-beast mid-pounce. And yet it had other long-deceased creatures connected to it. Fragments of their skeletons fused by the magic Cronus foolishly let loose.
In retrospect, he should have prepared for this better. He pushed up his glasses, and brushed his hair out of his face in one fell swoop before resting his chin on his hand. It had begun with the various remains strewn across his desk and the floor of his library-study. Brought to him from far away. They were ancient creatures, just unearthed, and naturally the archaeologists asked him to decipher what they were. But in his blind lust for knowledge, he opened a dusty tome whose previous owner asked specifically that he not read unless necessary. In a brief lapse of common sense, he thought that resurrecting the remains and bringing them to a druid who could perhaps commune with them would be the easiest way to determine what they were. However, he did not foresee that the magic would be slightly more powerful than he could control. And that in the burst of life energy, the skeletons would fuse. And naturally become highly aggressive. Cronus was a time wizard, not an oracle.
And it seems time was running out for him. The construct's bony paws twitched first, then its jaw cringed. The sigil beneath it began to flicker as it faded away. Sighing, he resorted to another forbidden spell. He simply hadn't the patience to deal with this -thing-. He began an incantation, finishing just as the undead creatures broke free of its temporal chains. Time began to rewind for him, only for a few minutes, though, until the creature was once again an array of bones, dead as can be. A cold sweat formed on his brow, as it always did when he reversed time. It was a handy trick he'd learned, but for every minute he traveled, his own life expectancy was reduced equally. Naturally, he never resorted to it unless his immediate life was on the line.
This time, he put the necromancy tome back on the shelf, his fingers lingering on its binding. As a master of both life and death, with time as their catalyst, the Exorcisma pondered if he could have simply controlled the beast. It would have made him even more powerful than he already was...
Cronus forced his hand away from the tome, shaking his head once more. Death cannot be controlled in such a way. He could heal a persons wounds and save their life by speeding the time around it until it renewed itself. He could slow it just as well so the person would not bleed to death or the poison would not spread. And if so provoked, he could unleash more of his power to speed up a persons life, until they withered away and died. But such killings were senseless, and would cause much chaos in this delicate world. Time was such a fragile thing to tamper with. And yet it would take time to figure out what these strange bones were when they were alive. Sadly, he had to do it the right way this time around. So the wizard took a different tome from the shelves and continued studying the bones.
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Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2011 8:13 pm
Character Name: Cassiel Pierce
Player Name: Purely Anonymoose
Race: Exorcisma
Birthmark/Pupil Marking: Saturn. (Do not change this, this is for your use only.)
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“Well this certainly is both unexpected and unpleasant.” The exorcisma muttered as he stared at the creature before him. It wasn’t alive anymore, though it was moving. What it was, he still couldn’t tell. The skeletal structure was just dripping with flesh and what he thought was fur. The smell was beyond this world, though he somehow managed to keep the contents of his stomach down.
“This was a fine example of beginner’s luck, if I do so say myself.” He muttered to the creature, earning a dull growl in response. Surely there had to be more to this necromancy spell besides ... whatever you wanted to call that thing.
Sighing, Cassiel pushed his glasses up his nose. "Hmm... the way I see it, I got two options. Get rid of it, or keep it." He spoke to himself, mulling over the two options in his mind. "On one hand it has no soul, so technically no life. The other, it would make one really cool pet." An eyebrow rose as he eyed the beast with his golden eyes, small strokes made to his chin.
Ten minutes ago if you had told Cassiel he was about to reanimate the body of some canine creature, he would have laughed. How was he to know the ancient scroll he found in the altar would in fact be a necromancy spell. Maybe he should have listened more closely to the words he was saying. Then he could have stopped in time... Oh well. What's done is done.
Though, he could tell his magic still had room to grow. He had seen other exorcisma reanimate creatures with necromancy and none looked as ghoulish as his own. It really was ugly... and studying it closely he could see that it had once been a fox. It must have died near the shrine and now, the creepy skeleton was standing there before him, in a bit of a daze. "Poor thing... the light's on but nobody's home, huh?"
Deciding on what he wanted to do, the male cast a smug look at the creature. "I can't let such a chance opportunity to test my skills go to waste, now can I?" He asked, approaching the mindless thing. What was made from his magic should be easily controllable. Right? As he bent down to it's level, he brushed his fingertips over the birthmark upon his neck. It was a gentle reminder of his own strength; he could do this.
With the whisper of a few words, a sliver of his life force parted from him and entered the creature, giving it life once more. It only took a few minutes for the small fox to come around and show signs of a conciousness.
Cassiel couldn't help but smile as he watched the little beast with great curiosity. "Well... once you get past the smell you're not all that bad. We'll have to clean you up some how, but... this could be the start of something amazing; or the start of something completely terrible. Either way, Its bound to be amusing."
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Posted: Wed Nov 09, 2011 8:51 pm
Character Name: Ethan Giles
Player Name: Oreo Dreamer
Race: Exorcisma
Birthmark/Pupil Marking: Saturn.
Many people thought of Ethan as the adventurous type - the kind that had a knack for getting into all sorts of trouble. Most of the time it wasn't life-threatening or life changing. Except right now. Ethan led an exploration to a pyramid, wanting to find all kinds of secrets to the mysterious monument, wanted an adventure of a lifetime! Everything was going according to plan, a few secrets revealed, chambers discovered... until Ethan activated a trap.
This wasn't just some ordinary trap to keep people out. It was a trigger to bring back to life a great and powerful Egyptian King named Nar'mer.
Ethan and his crew fled the pyramid with their lives easily. The hard part was what to do about the angry and powerful warlock bringing back to life his once dead minions, and rebuilding his empire. They may have escaped with their lives, but Ethan knew if he didn't do anything about the mess he had made, then many innocent lives would be taken.
His crew left, leaving Ethan to do this on his own. He needed to deal with it. It was his mess after all. Ethan studied many books and scrolls he had taken from the pyramid, hoping to find some way to deal with this raging undead king. During one of his studies, he found something quite interesting. He discovered that, inside Nar'mer's lair, was a crystal. This crystal was the power source of the warlock and if broken, would destroy the powers of the king. Unfortunately for Ethan, the lair was where Nar'mer sat on his throne, guarding it. Ethan didn't know how he could get to the crystal and destroy it.
After thinking and devising a plan over and over, Ethan finally had an idea in his mind that would work! And to start this plan, he had to put himself in the heart of the pyramid. So, following his plan, Ethan stole a small monumental treasure of the king's that was being placed in the rebuilding empire. Next--
"I surrender!" Ethan exclaimed, waving his arms back and forth to get the guards' attention. They would have killed him on site, but since he had stolen a king's treasure, the kind wanted to personally slay him. So the guards dragged him to the king, making the plan going ever so perfect.
Once inside, the guards threw Ethan at the king's feet. He had only a moment's glance around the room, searching for the stone before the king took up his attention. There, in the wall behind the throne, was the crystal. Perfect. The king saw them bring in Ethan, a thief to him, and grabbed a spear from one of his guards. Making his way to Ethan, he lifted his arm as he got ready to strike. Just before striking, the marking on Ethan's neck burst into a bright, white light.
The light was so blinding, the king and his fellow minions shielded their eyes. When the light finally faded, Ethan stood with a staff in his hand. He was holding it in his arms, fingers barely touching the strings on the staff. Before the king was able to attack, Ethan began to play music so beautiful it stunned the king. The melody summoned a white whisp that cut the spear the king held right in half. As the melody continued, the whisp began to dance, twirling around the room and destorying any other weapons it touched. Ethan played and moved, guiding the whisp towards the wall to destroy the crystal.
Ethan was successful, and he watched as the king faded into ash along with his minions. With the little energy he had left, Ethan began making his way out of the crumbling pyramid. He was so tired after using so much magic, he tripped over a piece of debris at the entrance and got caught under some falling stones. He tried to get out, but he was so weak by then he couldn't do anything but pray and hope someone would come along to get him. After a day, Ethan's crew had come back to get him, after hearing the news about the destruction of the pyramid. They took him to the hospital, where everyone found out the bad news. One of his legs was dead and needed to be amputated.
To this very day, Ethan goes on adventures just like he did when he was younger. The one fake leg didn't stop him from doing anything he wanted to do, only reminded him o the great adventures he had lived through, and would continue to in the future!
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Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2011 2:45 am
Character Name: Gintaras Lark
Player Name: Orpheus Solon
Race: Exorcisma
Birthmark/Pupil Marking: Saturn. (Do not change this, this is for your use only.)
*****
Lifting a hand up Gintares, called simply Gin but those closest to him, adjusted his dark rimmed glasses and once more lowered his gaze to the one that was standing there before him and he couldn't help but to stare, "Well now that... what wasn't quite what I was going for." He mused to himself, going over the ritual he'd used in his head, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong then sighed, unable to figure it out. It happened from time to time with him, even when he was trying his hardest, he just seemed to have what he referred to as 'magical hiccups'. These hiccups happened most often when he was working with a spell that he knew he shouldn't be fiddling with, forbidden magics, and no matter if they were for a good cause. It was as though his guilty conscience was getting the best of him by making his magic fumble.
What should he be doing with this one now then... he'd only meant to call up the spirit, to talk to him, and with luck get from him the information that he'd been asked to get by a couple. No such luck... why couldn't this have gone smoothly? Because you know that you aren't supposed to be fiddling with such magic of course Gintares a voice in the back of his mind said. Well now... what should he do now? He could still attempt to get answers, right? Then allow the spirit to go back to it's... well he wouldn't say rest, this soul wasn't someone that had died peacefully in their sleep or anything like that. No, it was unlikely that were this soul came from that he was getting peace or rest... instead it more likely that it was a fiery place.
"Alright... I am still going to try to do this." He said, squatting down to stare at the small form that was giving him a cat's equivalent of a death glare, "Don't look at me like that, a sacrifice was needed for the spell. How was I supposed to know that the magical fail was going to land you in the body." He said, necromancy was far from his strong point... he would make note of that, tuck this ritual away somewhere, and not bother with it again until he was feeling stronger, braver, and less guilty... he'd be careful not allow the soul he was summoning up to attach itself to the sacrifice either he thought idly before he started his discussion with the criminal turned cat. It didn't really take long for him to understand why the soul attached to the cat so quickly, they were rather similar weren't they? The guy was ignoring him completely, not bothering to answer a single question, and wouldn't even look at him as he spoke.
"That body really matches your soul." Gin muttered, adjusting his glasses again as he tried to decide what he wanted to do next. He could try to banish the soul, but that meant that he would have done this all for nothing, wouldn't it? To risk a spell he wasn't supposed to use, to have that spell botch and end up closer to something like raising the dead, and then to not even get any of the answers that he'd wanted from the guy. He wouldn't allow it, "Fine then, you can be like that if you want." He said, reaching up to remove the ribbon he sometimes used to tie back his hair, shook it off, then tied it around the cat's neck like a makeshift leash, "You are going to stay with me until you decide to talk and if you misbehave I will have you fixed and declawed." He said, leading the hissing cat off.
It wasn't really the best solution but it would have to work until he figured out a better way to deal with this... situation.
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Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2011 7:25 am
Character Name: Blythe Adley
Player Name: Akira-Kisho
Race: Exorcisma
Birthmark/Pupil Marking: Saturn. (Do not change this, this is for your use only.)
_____
Necromancy. Blythe couldn't deny the magic was absolutely enthralling. He had spent many nights only reading about it. Yet the books could only lend so much and he was simply left wanting. He stared at the freshly dead corpse that lay on his table, wondering what it would be like. He had read over this spell over and over...and over and over. Nothing would go wrong tonight. He was anything but mistake-prone. A bit of a charmer, yes, and maybe more of a thief than an honorable man, but he was certainly not dumb.
He had documented up to this night for months now. He had to wait to find the perfect specimen, and since he'd rather not dirty his hands with killing, patience had to be the game. He had looked at the sick, the old, and the criminal, but his specimen seemed lost to him...
Till he found him.
The boy who lay on the table now was barely above fifteen years. He had been killed simply for stealing an apple off a cart. Blythe didn't know whether to fear for his own life now, as the occasional free meal was very appealing to him as well, or to simply stake a claim on his ego. He was impervious to most. His wit and charm were like toxic lullabies and he knew how to use those weapons well.
He turned his yellow eyes back to the boy on the table. If he waited too much longer, the time would pass and he'd have to start again. This corpse would only be fresh for so long...
He pushed up his glasses, bringing the book of spells closer to his face as he read the words; his tongue forming the words with exact precision.
Blythe would peak up every now and then to see if anything was happening, but the boy continued to lie there...dead.
He set the book down after he was finished, angry that nothing was happening. Why didn't it work? He had been so careful! Months of preparation and sleepless nights and this! This! He felt his shoulders begin to quake and his throat close. There was no way he had done this wrong.
He turned away, preparing to find any clues or answers as to why this didn't work when he heard rustling from the table, and gurgled muffles. With a large smile, he turned to the boy, only to force back a scream and suppress running away. "Im-impossible..."
There before him, the boy was slowly falling to pieces. His eyes hung from his skull, his tongue sloshed about in an empty, decayed mouth. This boy, barely a day dead, and yet he looked like this...
The boy continued to gurgle, his eyeballs swaying about as he jerkily moved. Blythe winced as he listened to bones crack, skin slop to the floor and those eyes hit each other, bouncing lightly from that slowly exposing skull. He wanted to scream.
"This wasn't what I wanted..." he said softly, moving closer to the...creature. Could it still be considered a boy? "What have I done to you..." He held his hands up to the boy's slowly decaying face, but could not find the courage to touch. He turned to his desk, finding a pair of gloves and slid them over his hands. With the courage he had mustered from those gloves, he went to the boy's eyes, pushing them back into the skull.
The creature moaned, sloshing and gurgling its tongue as it forced its dying vocal chords to emit sound.
"I am so sorry..." He locked his gaze with the boy's. That look was forever engrained in his own skull, plastered upon his brain. That look...that dry look of utter sorrow and pain. "I will never forgive myself for this..."
He looked to a knife on the table, his mind screaming at him to end this boy's pain. Part of him though, knew this was just as much his punishment as it was anyone's. This "life" he had created, it was his fault. He had to take it upon himself to treat it as such until that final day came for the creature, or his own clock ran out...
"My name is Blythe Adley, and from now on, I will be your protector, until your days or mine run out."
The boy could not form words, as the skin and muscle of his chin had given away, dropping his tongue down, allowing it to hang there, dangling like a rope. But he nodded. Blythe would have found this fascinating, that there was still language and reason inside this shell of what was once human, but now, at this very moment, all he wanted to do was cry, and plead forgiveness from this poor, unfortunate...boy.
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Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 2:25 am
Character Name: Aphesus Sunder
Player Name: Auric Halcyon
Race: Exorcisma
Birthmark/Pupil Marking: Saturn.
There was a story about a young apprentice who was instructed to clean his master’s workshop while his master was away, the young apprentice, lazy and fool-hardy, instead tried to use his master’s wand to summon magic that would perform the task for him. At first, everything was fine, but the apprentice was lazy and eventually the spells spiralled out of control, the poor apprentice was unable to stop them and when the master returned, the witch’s workshop had been destroyed. The apprentice was punished by spending fifteen years as a dirty mop in the master’s closet.
Aphesus wiped blue juices off his glasses, calmly dodging a flying vial that exploded behind him as it connected with an antique globe of the world. Flame rose in a purple plume, burning hot enough to reduce the globe to a melted plastic mould in seconds. Another vial flew his direction and the Exorcisma leapt over the glass projectile, acid splashed against the hem of his robes, eating away at the fabric in seconds.
The next vial he snatched mid-air and returned to its many-armed sender. The creature howled in pain, hissing as gruesome putrid puss ruptured over its left four eyes. It had no teeth, but a hollow maw yawning into abyss, fetid mould sewing the edges together in several places. Nine eyes in total, a black hole at the temple that glistened with putrid sickly ooze, four eyes on the left, a pair of distorted blues and two different shades of brown; now all gone beneath a foaming mass of potion. The right side had another four mismatching orbs, shifting furiously. It had no lids, so never did its gaze waver. Three arms; two jutted from just above the hips, the third like a tail behind the creature, snatching at vials off the desk out of the circle it stood in. The third arm was the one he had not anticipated.
Did that make him lazy or simply unfortunate? Aphesus shrugged off his slowly disintegrating uniform and swiped a charm off the nearest desk. A ward against noisy ghosts? Useless. His mouth pressed into a thin line of displeasure and he rolled out of the way of a text-book aimed at his head. Dodging was getting him nowhere. If he didn’t find something useful soon, the workshop would be beyond salvage. His master would return tomorrow morning and then... Aphesus rolled behind a desk, using the drawers as cover while he searched his pockets for his list. The crumpled piece of paper had been neatly lined. Salt, silver shavings and dead-man’s candle wave. For a banshee. This was not a banshee.
Now, the question was, WHY was it not a banshee? He recalled the notes of the spell perfectly in his head; memorised in minutes, remembered forever. The circle was standard, the ingredients exactly as- had it been dragon’s left molar or right? Aphesus scratched his chin, peering out of blue-smeared glasses to the direction of the far table. The only unharmed piece of furniture in the room- for now. His notes lay on the table, his master’s summoning orb glowing faintly as a page-marker. Did the side of a molar really matter so much? Indubitably, it mattered enough to distinguish between a banshee and… whatever he had ended up with. Aphesus turned the note over and pulled out his pencil, marking down this perilous detail for the future. Above him, another test-tube exploded as a book impacted the delicate glass constructs.
His notes done, Aphesus considered his options. He had to go on the offensive. Reactions would cause more damage, he needed to find a diversion and strike.
“I surrender!”
The creature paused, making a quizzical noise. Aphesus poked his head above the table and held up his notes, the page conspicuously blank. “I surrender, the contest is yours, I shall serve you and release you from the circle.”
The five remaining eyes narrowed, three hands juggling a rock paperweight, a feather of implosion and a bat skull. It gave him a suspicious look but as Aphesus suspected, the undead homoculi was not in possession of a great intelligence.
He stood slowly and cautiously, picking his way, shirtless through the rubble to the creature. It had no legs, merely a scaly tail that wavered against the edges of the summoning circle it was trapped in. At the last moment, Aphesus lunged forward, his hand entering the circle- the creature reacted, reaching for him, but he was faster; the paper slammed into its forehead before it could grab his arm and Aphesus spat out the word of banishment.
Black smoke vomited around the circle, a horrid wailing sound echoing on the very upper pitch of the tolerable range of sound. Aphesus recoiled, wincing as his ears burned with the noise, but a moment later it was gone leaving him shirtless and coughing in a warzone. He stumbled to his notebook, sliding into the chair behind the desk and grabbing his pen. An underline under the words right molar. Leaning his elbows against the desk he surveyed the room with entwined fingers. Which was more viable, a cleaning spell or replacing the broken debris?
Aphesus flipped his notes to the early cleaning spells in the index of his book. Confidences in lesser Exorsicma might have been shaken, but Aphesus had identified the problem and would not make the mistake again. He touched the orb by his book and removed his glasses to read the incantation on the page.
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Posted: Sun Nov 13, 2011 12:53 am
✰★✰ Hᴏʀʀᴏʀ ♥ Mᴇɪᴅᴏ ✰★✰ 
Drawing from the following: (updating until the 13th)
Auric Halcyon
Akira-Kisho
Purely Anonymoose
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Vanilla Cryptid generated a random number between
1 and 15 ...
11!
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Posted: Sun Nov 13, 2011 8:06 pm
✰★✰ Hᴏʀʀᴏʀ ♥ Mᴇɪᴅᴏ ✰★✰
Drawing from:
Auric - 1-5
Akira - 6-10
Anonn - 11-15
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