Third Age: Das Re-Boot (Das OOC)

Witty, right? I know, I know, I'm a comedic genius. Anyway, down to business! We're giving it the good old college try again, folks.

This right here is the OOC. This is used for any out of character chatter (Learn how to acronym, guys) general discussion, and a great place to give the GM Hell for being such a scrub.

Now, onto everyone's favorite part: THE RULES!

1. Proper RP Etiquette. No God-Modding, No Mary-Sues, No Breaking the Fourth Wall, Blah blah blah... Anyone found breaking this rule will have to write a 1000 word paper on the topic of Drying Paint. This paper must be written in the author's own blood. (Or red pen... I can't tell the difference. Dammit Jim, I'm a GM not a Doctor!)

2. Don't be a dick, Shinji.

3. Yield to oncoming traffic.

4. Take off your shoes before entering the thread.

5. Never gonna give you up!

6. Never gonna let you down!

7. Don't feel ashamed that I just Rick Rolled you. It happens to the best of us.



Now: Character Submissions!


All Submissions must be carried out in this manner:

Name:


Age:


Gender:


Race:


Class:


Physical Description and Weapons:


Personality:


Biography:


Misc.:

Do note: No characters should be complete bad-asses right off the bat. Sometimes it is fun to be a little inexperienced!

Along with this, a submission of your writing is required. These must be four good sized paragraphs at a minimum. Anyone wishing to impress/entertain me may write more, but do remember that these submissions are meant to gauge quality, not quantity.

These submissions must be an original work pertaining to the character you are submitting and cannot be your opening post for the RP.

It is encouraged that writing submissions be sent to me via PM to cut down on clutter, though if you are feeling especially proud of your writing you may post it along with your Character Submission

Also, as the races of The Fey and Demons are meant to be rare in this world, any Submissions for these races will be judged in a much more critical light.

If you have any questions, it is highly recommended that you consult the Encyclopedia Thread in the Library.

The Encyclopedia can be found here:

Spoiler:

However, don't feel at all shy to come take a seat in Papa Jax's lap and ask any questions you may have! I'll be happy to answer them.


Now: READY? SET? GO!



(Or don't. I'm a GM, not a Cop.)

Okay, here's my Bio. Pretty much the same as last time. Pretty much...



Name: Miah Kuroha


Age: 42 (Remember, all races besides the poor Humans have very long life spans. Miah still appears young and will likely appear so for a very long time. Lucky bitch.)


Gender: Female


Race: The Fey


Class: Rouge -The Combatant


Physical Description and Weapons: With a pair of large, fuzzy wolf ears peeking out from her platinum blonde hair and a long, bushy tail sprouting from just above her behind, Miah proudly puts on display her heritage as a member of the Fey. She usually has her hair tied back in a ponytail, tied in place with her bandanna. Her wolf ears have a few noticeable gold piercings for decoration. Her tail has no such ordainment. From beneath her black bandanna, two sharp, blue eyes peer out at you. The bandanna, with it's red crosshatching pattern, is a bit torn and faded. Standing at roughly 6'0" she is fit, her muscles well accustomed to work. As she sneers at you, her fangs are readily apparent, gleaming white, and razor sharp.

She is sporting a long sleeved, white cotton shirt, stained with dirt, sweat, and what could be blood. The shirt is  unbuttoned towards the top, though whether this is simply in concert with the rest of the mess or is an unspoken dare to sneak a peak at the woman's ample tracts of land is a mystery. As you chance a peek, your eye is drawn to a worn, beaten leather jacket. It is decorated with big silver buttons that grab the eye as they seem to pop out against the dark, black leather. The metal has begun to show faint signs of rust and tarnish, evidence of years on the open sea where the light mist and troublesome swells have taken their toll. The sleeves have been removed at the elbow, likely on one hot summer's day where this sort of brash action was required.

At some places, you spy ink. Black, tribal tattoos seem to creep out from beneath the fabric, accentuating her almond tanned skin. They slide up the woman's neck and would seem to carry on down her arms. They seem to even move from her shoulder and touch on her breasts. Whether these tattoos appear anywhere else on her body, you dare not ask.

You slide your eyes further down the vixen's form, and you notice a beaten brown belt fastening a pair of dark blue cotton pants with a sturdy gold buckle. These pants have obviously been through the ringer, being torn, given a quick patch up, only to tear again. She is wearing a pair of old, high boots. The leather has been scuffed significantly, a consequence of too much time spent above deck on wet, hard planks of wood.

Around her hips, fastened to the belt, hangs a deadly looking cutlass. The blade is dinged at the hilt and has certainly seen it's share of fighting. Still, it has been well cared for and the blade still shimmers in the sun, as sharp as it was the day it was made.

Realizing you have been staring, Miah knocks you on the chin, forcing you to look at her face. A smirk on her lips, accompanied by that tell-tale glimmer in her eyes tells you that you had best get ready to scrub the decks as punishment for lazing around.


Personality: Miah is an individualist at heart. While she may retain some ferocious loyalty to her few friends and whatever crew she currently is a part of, provided they have proven themselves to her, her first priority is always Good ol' Number One. She has a direct, curt attitude, highlighted by an odd, dry, often playful, and sometimes downright irreverent sense of humor.

She is tricky and unpredictable. The fact that she is still alive is testament to the fact. An opportunist, she is just as likely to save your life as she is to steal the shirt off your back and strand you on a deserted island. She views life as one giant adventure. If you're not getting any excitement out of it, then what's the point? She hides her true emotions well, and it's often hard to tell just what angle she is playing at. Though, if one thing is certain with Miah, it's that she's always got an angle


Biography: For years, the Fey have lived life as if on the run. They move from place to place, doing whatever is necessary to get by. When they do settle, it is often in well out of the way places, where they can live out their lives without much trouble. So is the life Miah Kuroha was born into, and so is the life she would grow to loath.

It seems from the get go the girl was not suited to a quiet existence. Filled with energy as a child, if she wasn't running about the family homestead, she was most likely tampering with some oddity she had picked up or stolen. By the end of the day, said oddity would either be broken or cast aside, without fail.

Growing up on the borders of the Woods of Vendrali, her family had gathered together a good assortment of enhancements that helped them to survive. They were all modest, well-meaning, and in Miah's opinion, boring as the day was long. While the family worked at odd jobs and helped put food on the table, Miah roamed the woods, looking for anything interesting and exciting. Though this behavior was frowned upon by her family, they were under obligation to keep her fed, give her a home, and raise the girl as best they could.

The first signs the family had they were fighting an uphill battle was the day Miah returned home, long after curfew of course, with what appeared to be the first signs of wolf ears. She had apparently taken a shine to following the local packs all day, watching them go about their daily routines. As a consequence, the magic ingrained deep in the Fey had begun to do its work.

Her parents were outraged. Not only was the hobby of stalking wolves incredibly dangerous, these enhancements were completely useless to the type of farming and gathering the family did to stay alive. Throughout the years, every effort was taken to curb Miah's wild side. All attempts failed. The harder they pushed, the more the girl rebelled.

On the eve of her twenty-sixth year, when Fey children are considered to reach maturity and their form becomes permanent, Miah left the homestead. Really, it would be more appropriate to say she was kicked out, but she seems to remember differently. Taking to the road, Miah would wander Urasis for ten years, alone. During this time, she did what was necessary to survive. Anything from taking a part time job at a horse ranch to stealing what she needed.

After this time of wandering, Miah would find her way to a small port on the Icronian Sea named Ravenhelm. It was here she would take her first job on a merchant ship carrying spice across the trade currents. It seems that once the sea got her hooks into the nomad, there was no turning back.

For eight years now, Miah has worked her way across "Old Man Icron" working her way up from deck hand to only recently qualifying for a position as a first mate. Hopping from ship to ship over the years, she has done her share of honest work, balanced by some less than scrupulous jobs. Still her motto has never changed over the years, "Endure, Survive, Get out Alive."


Misc.: She fancies pipe smoking and has a certain talent with the violin and piano. She smells of berries. Has a pet wolf named Koga.

Mind if I jump in?
Name: Själ Aska(Feal ask-a?), meaning Soul of Ash.


Age: Rather young for current times at the age of 25


Gender: Male


Race: The High Elves


Class: Mage - Elemental - Apprentice(rank)


Physical Description and Weapons:
Weapons- Having nothing to defend himself, Sjal relies on his magic. He has no skill with any swords, axes, bows and arrows, or anything of the sort. He can barely handle his magic, only being able to focus the power as an attack on something, but what something is unpredictable. He tends to try and set things on fire with his magic, resulting in failed attempts and nearly setting his cape on fire several times leaving it with charred ends from where he managed to stomp the flames out in time. Sjal is weak, and can be brought down with ease if someone manages to sneak up on him or get near him(those or get lucky as his magic goes nuts and attacks everything BUT the intended target...) He has no tactics, just call upon the magic and hope for good results. This reckless tactic makes him slightly unpredictable as even he does not know of what he is going to do next, and surprises could be pulled from him by accident.

Appearance- His red hair is messy and shaggy as he never takes care of it, he never has the products to do so and still would refuse even if he had. His eyes are usually described by others as a deep ocean blue on his rather rounded human face. Sjal wears a charred cloak, to add to his "mage" appearance that he is oh so much proud of, that bears the marks of his failed attempts of lighting certain objects on fire. Beneath his charred brown cloak, his a peasant's shirt, buttons and string that hold the shirt's top onto his shoulders and his torn pants and shirt expresses his tendency to try and reach seeming impossible places. The mage stands at a normal size of an average human, and his shoes are that, too, of a peasant's.


Personality:


Biography:


Misc.:

WIP

Give me a few days. This is my first year of school that actually involves effort. (Freshman year of high school.)
WIP

Name:

Age:

Gender:

Race:

Class:

Physical Description and Weapons:

Personality:

Biography:

Misc.:

Name: Elise Terra


Age: 30 (But appears as a late teenager/early adult because Elves O3O)


Gender: Female


Race: Wood Elf


Class: Elemental Mage


Physical Description and Weapons:
As a Wood Elf, Elise is perfectly adapted for camouflage in the forest. However, due to the burning of her ancester's hometown, the almost wood-like features of her face and at the time her greenish brown hair, miming vines were something to be proud of, became useless as a protective agent against enemies, and hasn't yet been outgrown. In a grove of trees, assuming her crystal blue eyes were tightly shut, she would nearly be invisible against it.

Even though their small group haven't been living in Vendrali for hundreds of years, they still wear objects to blend in with their surroundings over in the trees and are taught things about their beloved forest, including what to eat and how to use certain plants and animals for certain things, despite the fact that there might not be the same forest that their ancester's fond memories, or maybe they were twisted from the passing down through the centuries. Either way, she is outfited in a durable green jacket, smeared with mud and ingrained with sand and some other stuff that seems organic, yet suprisingly has no holes other than many scuff and scratch marks. Her jeans however aren't as well made, as they are faded and muddied, and one of the kneecaps have a hole in it, while the other seems like they could soon match the other side. She carries a worn brown backpack with several items needed for survival (a tinder box, water canteen, rope, etc) which is slightly covered by her hair. A knife, nicked and well used, rests in a leather shealth, that is like the rest of her attire is worn and the knife(used more as a survival tool than a weapon...actually has never seen battle before. The most blood it actually aquired is from whenever she actually gets desperate enough to eat meat. However, as a last ditch resort, it could work....as well as a knife can work.) is getting on the dull side. In fact the only thing that she wears that isn't for survival, nor camouflage is a bright pink scarf/ribbon that is wrapped around her neck, a momento of her mother.


Personality:
Elise is somewhat shy, and obidient, never playing a leader role. However, the Wood Elf is a natural survivalist from her mother's side, thus keeping and rationaling supplies, and understanding and respecting the importance of a knife, thus keeping it at all times. While having the ability to simply survive with not many variables thrown in, she has weak actual fighting/magic capabilities.

Going back to her people skills...which aren't the best, when she trusts people, they would find her talking either straight to the point or vague as a seethrough cloud. Understanding sarcasm isn't her strong point, and she can be clueless at many points of time. She will absolutely be conflicted about saving herself or her teammate, the choice of survival or guilt weighs heavily and is conisdered dearly.


Biography:


Misc.:


(WIP)

Name: Ninquië Itham (Known by friends as "Nin". But you're not my friend so don't worry about it.)

Age: 47

Gender: Female

Race: High Elves (Team Nazi Assholes w00t)

Class: Mage - Arcane

Physical Description and Weapons:

Have a drawing:

Spoiler:

Plagued with a number of small genetic mutations resulting from a rather "careless" mother and an identical twin- who died in the womb, I might add (probably because of some little stuck-up hothead's constant shit-spewing...) -Nin has a rather unique appearance. Nin's bangs are a light brown color, where the rest of her hair is a light and pale blonde; her natural hair color. Her eyes are blue and green; and by that I mean there are green patches in her blue eyes where pigment is lacking. If her twin had survived to see life outside the womb, it is speculated that his/her appearance would have been the opposite of Nin's.

She always dresses rather elegantly because of her status as a High Elf; her everyday clothes looking much like that of a certain Princess of Hyrule. Her dress is mainly white, accented with the colors purple and light blue. It is very ornately decorated, and she is also outfitted with a small amount of  light, decorative, yet useful armor such as shoulder plates and a few pieces of armor on her thighs protecting her femoral arteries; hidden by the skirt of her dress. Her dress itself has long sleeves, a high collar (although part of her upper chest and shoulders are exposed), and a cut-out back.

She doesn't exactly have a "Mira" level physique, but at the same time she's rather developed. She also has no specific weapons to speak of, nor does she exactly have a need for them.

Personality: Nin is very spoiled brat-like and at the same time is also a Nazi prick; all rolled up a little tortilla skin of adorableness. She has no trouble running her little mouth when she has something on her mind, whatever that "thing" may be. Her only redeeming factor is that, despite her brilliant mind, she's very innocent; which both defuses and promotes her bitchy behavior; depending on the occasion.
Nin can have her nice moments... Y'know, like every other time that mars is visible from earth and she stops yapping so much.

Biography: Nin was born into a filthy stinking rich family of High Elf snobs. Her mother was a well-known socialite among the community (and somehow pulled off being inebriated often), and her father a tax collector with a rather wealthy inheritance.

With one twin dead in the womb and the other born prematurely, Nin immediatly was launched into the life of a spoiled little only child since her parents were too busy and too good to be raising a child. They basically have her whatever she wanted and then shipped her off to the Academy of Arcane Magic to get her out of the house, not even bothering to notice that she had the brain equivalent to that of  a High Elf Tesla (only not as stir cray-cray. Or awesome. Or as pigeon-crazed.)

Despite her bratty personality, Nin excelled at school. She found she loved learning and poored herself into experiencing all she could; developing a fondness for Magic and an acute skill that carried her to even higher heights. Her personality and attitude even began to improve somewhat during her stay at the academy, and she almost seemed to... mature.

Alas, good things can't last forever.

Nin completed her five years of independent studies and graduated from the academy a well-learned young elf... And found herself lacking the outlet her vigorous learning once gave her. She reverted almost completely back to her old behavior, personality, and habits practically immediately, finding herself with a small empty void she just didn't know how to fix. She hasn't done anything of peculiar importance since then, namely because it just recently happened.

Theme song: http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=E0_nv74h6KM&feature=related
"Nin's Castle"
[N's Castle]