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Nav's Dump

Discussion in 'THE TEST CHAMBERS' started by Nav, Aug 11, 2016.

  1. Dun dun dun -- sometimes, I do stuff.
    #1 Nav, Aug 11, 2016
    Last edited: Feb 4, 2018
    • You Get a Cookie You Get a Cookie x 1


    Age: 27 | Place of Birth: Mulgrave | Inspiration: The Booted Cat | Eye Color: Blue | Hair Color: Dark Blonde| Height: 5'11" | Weight: 170 lbs


    Katze Stiefel could truly paint a handsome portrait if he bothered to cut his hair or shave once in a while, but to describe his appearance would be to totally miss the point. He was a thief and he doesn't really give a damn of what anyone thinks about the way he looks, painfully evident in the way he presents himself. He is taller than most though isn't lanky; there is bulk to him, too. His hair is perfectly unruly and a deep shade of blonde, not so much framing his face as falling in front of it and choking out his elvish-like features. His face is built of features that aren't unappealing, but are mostly forgettable. He's attractive, but not startlingly so. A scar dissects his cheek, broad, rough, and slightly more peach toned than his otherwise tanned skin, though the cicatrice is often hidden, or partially hidden, behind facial hair. It's his eyes though that are most lovely-- indigo darts, sharp yet so full of emotion. They're not heavy or blunt, just apparent. To say his eyes are a shade of blue was like saying the sun was yellow-- sufficient, but not entire.

    His choice of attire is effective and uninspired. As his job requires utmost stealth and light-footedness, Katze often avoids heavy armor and prefers to dress himself in light, dark dyed tunics and trousers. He travels lightly and often finds new clothes as he goes along on his travels. His choice of weapons are as transitory as his clothes, and he will often pick up and throw away weapons... swords, bows, daggers... as he goes along as he sees no point in spending time or money in maintaining them when he can just steal anew. Though he doesn't seem to adamant about keeping his identity a secret from anyone, he seems partial to hoods and cloaks and dons them both quite frequently.


    "In the name of the King, stop! Thief!"

    If shouts were visible, they’d be reaching over the air, strangling the life from the man in a ragged black cloak as he sprinted through the village streets and the guards in red followed. The thief, Katze, couldn’t help but wonder if the guards demands actually ever caused anyone to stop—as if a thief would think ‘oh bugger, they got me! I better stop!’

    His feet slip outward on the wet autumn leaves as he rounded a corner, the cold evening air shocking his throat and lungs as he inhaled deeper, faster. With each footfall, a jarring pain shoots ankle to knee, ankle to knee. In retrospect, perhaps jumping from the roof of the building on to the cobblestone street below wasn’t so smart at twenty-seven. His heart beat frantically, his fists closed around the small amulet, all or nothing. Fail, and his whole body would pay the price, run, and the damage was limited mostly to his shins and knees. He knew the village better than the guards did, those pigs were just pretty boys in uniform, shipped in from the nicer end of town. They were weighed down with heavy leather armor, swords, and equipment, all of them useless unless they could get him up close, which they wouldn’t.

    Already, Katze could hear them panting with the effort from three hundred yards behind, that’s how freaking noisy they were. Conditioning from a groomed military lawn would never beat real-life training on the streets.

    When Katze’s mind finally ceased it’s unproductive buzz of excitement over the rich jewel clutched in his sweaty palm, he was able to start thinking his way out of the mess he had caused. If the guards caught him, he was as good as dead, so he had only two more options: up or down. Down meant burial in leaf litter but he hadn’t the time to dig a depression to conceal his bulk; up was faster. Swinging down an alley that dropped him out on the edge of town, Katze’s catastrophic blue eyes searched for the best tree. It had to be tall, lots of branches to climb and enough leaves left from the encroaching autumn to give him some cover. His options were fairly limited but he picked a mature Beech. The rough bark scuffs at his skin but his crude pursuers didn’t have brains or dogs. All they had were blood red uniforms, swords, and clumsy feet to announce how little time he had left.

    They were closing in. His heart continued to thud more loudly that he wished it would, but he reminded himself the drum was only beating in his own ears. The guards spill around the corner and converge into the open spaces, stumbling to a halt when they see everything vacant. Above them, pressed deep against the tree’s hull and blended in to a riot of autumn colored leaves, Katze remained as still as a branch himself.

    “Where’d he go?” one of the guards, an owl-faced man with an oversized helmet dipping below his brow gnashed.

    “He nae just disappeared!”

    Ah, if only they thought to look up, but not a single neck twisted back to scan the tops of the branches.
    “Maybe he took a left atta fork, let’s go back n’ look.”

    The suspense had all but killed him, but as he watched their red coats disappear back into the heart of the village, he felt his entire body breath out a sigh of relief from deep within. At once, he slid down from the tree and landed into the grass below with a thump. His hand opened and he looked down at the jewel as it laid there as heavy as a common rock, yet in the evening sunlight it glittered like the sun-kissed ocean lapping sand. He rolled it once between his fingertips before slipping it in his burlap sack.

    When he was young, stealing meant money and money meant food, but after his trade exploded, in a good way, it just became a mode of entertainment… as slothful and indulgent as jokers or minstrels.


    Like many living outside the noble cities, Katze grew up to a poor family of lowly sheep farmers in the far south of Mulgrave. Though the three-room home was often seen as a symbol of lavishness and success among the peasants, it never appeased Katze… nor did hunger. As a boy, Katze looked more like a thin tarp stretched over a rail: skinny, frail, with his honeyed brown skin covered in more abrasions than a knocked about stray mutt. He grew up fast, strong, and mean, learning the art of sheep herding and management from a young age. As the oldest boy of nine, he was expected to take over caring for the family and running the family’s farming business.

    His family’s way of life gifted him with a great number of skills. From a young age, he knew how to ride and work with horses, how to handle a sword, a bow, an axe… His father, a harsh but not unfair man, pushed his children into labor. The Stiefel children were fed rations and expected to work the fields every day except Sunday; it was the same meagre fare every day. If one of the children didn’t work hard enough, the father would hit them. If a child made a mistake, they got hit, and heaven barely helped Katze the one time he got caught trying to take a nap in a tree during working hours. The punishments were harsh, but not necessarily unfair. Like all the Stiefel children, Katze was worked in the fields from the moment he could properly hold a hoe. Six days a week he worked—rain, shine, snow, heat—and during that time, he dreamed.

    Always the dreamer, the one who had to be scolded by his parents for his larger than life ideas, did end up taking care of the family, but not in the way his parents would have hoped. It started with an apple at the Sunday market. Next, it was a loaf of bread from the Church. Suddenly, it was the bronze pence that the guards often kept in their satchels. By the time he was sixteen, enamored with the mysterious allure of the ‘wanted’ posters loitered all across town of the infamous Thieves Guild members, Katze’s fingers grew stickier and stickier. There was always an excuse for where these items came from whenever anyone asked… delicate lies he rolled out with a quick tongue and a charming smile. By seventeen, he was engaged to be married to a lovely farmer’s daughter, Matilda. After their wedding, it was his father’s will that he took over the family farm with his new wife, but he never saw his wedding day.

    It didn’t take long for his father to discover what was truly going on and, disgusted that his own blood and bone could be so treacherous in front of the eyes of God, cast him from the family home. Desperate and scared, and having never left the village of his birth, Katze begged for another chance. When he was cast aside again, his engagement to Matilda was dissolved with Matilda’s father quickly learning of Katze’s loss of the farm. Katze quickly turned back to thievery to sustain himself and his efforts proved bountiful. Quickly going from a penniless disowned farmer’s son to a moderately wealthy and highly-sought after thief with a bounty on his head and a score to settle swept through multiple kingdoms. Getting his unlawful career start in valuable jewels, gems, and metals, Katze rapidly graduated to a more sinister trade: magical artifacts.

    The risks were greater, as were the rewards and Katze flourished. In possession of more wealth than he even knew what to do with, he spent, and plans to spend, his adult life collecting a fortune in order to build himself a palace in the noble cities he was barred from as a child.

    Generally a nondescript gentleman who is bland on the palette at first glance, Katze's most defining characteristic is putting his nose in other people's business. Despite this, he manages to go mostly unnoticed, a perk in his field of work, which just so happens to be thievery... or as he prefers 'pilfering' (it rolls off the tongue). Katze isn't stupid or lazy, but he does deliberately hide any sort of original thought or intellectual competency. As people go, he's laid-back but intense in a slow-burning kind of way. He realizes most people find him irritating in the same sense one would find a sliver in their thumb irritating. If people are able to look past his rather unsavory traits, they may find his knowledge of the world around him to be useful. He's street smart, but illiterate, and knows little about fancy wines and what fork to use at a nobleman's table.

    While his pilfering does put him on the wrong side of the law, he's not a genuinely bad human being. He's genuinely considerate to people's wellbeing though he's too self-centered to put someone's needs before his own. That doesn't mean he won't go out of his way to help someone else or do the right thing, so long as the situation doesn't negatively impact him in any way. His loyalty is easily earned and easily lost, which can make him both a great friend or a terrible nuisance depending on the moment. Chill, cool, and unshakeable in all possible ways, Katze is always a good time, especially when drinking and he frequently enjoys beverages. He's incredibly stubborn, obnoxiously jesting, impossibly set in his ways, but not at all compulsive.

    His choice of pilfering lies in magical artifacts; if you need a wolfman pelt or a Griffon talon, he's definitely your man, but if you think curiosity killed the cat, you're definitely mistaken.
    #3 Nav, Jan 4, 2017
    Last edited: Jan 5, 2017


    Three hundred years in the future, cultures and provinces have dissolved into a single nation, ruled by a sovereign governing body known as Tartarus. The ideal citizen is nondescript and doesn’t pay attention to anything except their own life and their duties in it. While not brainwashed in the typical sense, citizens of Earth are stripped of their most basic identities. Numbers are assigned in place of names and all major life choices in an individual’s life are made by Tartarus. History is outlawed. Memories, at least those not approved, are discouraged. Citizens are constantly reminded that Tartarus is good, kind, and necessary, and are reminded to the rules of the new regime… and the punishment for breaking them. A few people do break the rules, however. When someone commits a serious offense against Tartarus, they’re given a name.

    Their name and face are plastered everywhere so no one will forget it: every social media, every billboard, every TV advert. Everywhere, so no one will forget it. This makes them an immediate outcast amongst all law-abiding citizens and severs their connections to numbered people. Most of the named individuals are thrown into prison camps, but a few have made their escape and are living not-so-quietly under the radar. A rebellion begins to rise from these named outcasts and in the midst of politics and war, blooms love and hope and a thirst for autonomy. With a taste of blood in their mouths and a scent of freedom in the air, the named ones must make a decision to flee from Tartarus or strike for the independence they have longed for once and for all.


    • Level: Detailed (3-4+ paragraphs per post)
    • Genre: Sci-fi
    • Sub-Genres: Drama, Tragedy, possibilities for slight Horror
    • Scale: 4-8 players
    • Pace: Medium. One post expected per week
    • Expected Application Opening Date: February 5th
    • Expected Start Date: February 20th
  4. Hello!

    My name is Nav and this is my very basic interest check because I'm lazy and yatta-yatta. Everything you could ever want to know about me in terms of roleplaying is here. As a person, I enjoy long walks on the beach, candlelit dinner, and sexy roleplay partners. ;D

    I’m not going to call them rules or guidelines, because they’re more of preferences than anything else. I’m really pretty flexible, but I'm not a doormat.
    • Detail: In my roleplays, I definitely prefer a detailed roleplay partner. I usually average 500-700 words a post or more. Sorry, roleplays only really interest me if I have something more than a few sentences to read. I’m not going to put a required word count, but three decent-sized paragraphs at minimum would make me a happy woman.
    • Activity: Honestly? If you get me at least one post a week, I’ll be happy. More would be awesome, but not necessary. I usually can post every day or every other day. Sometimes every third day.
    • Plots: Please participate in plotting with me! I love both discussing ideas with my partners and/or being surprised at a turn of events in a post. I don’t believe in passive roleplaying and I will get bored if you aren’t willing to bounce ideas around with me. I'm very talkative and love making friends.
    • Pairings and Genders: I do enjoy romance. I don't want to just throw two characters together and mush them together for the sake of "romance." If it happens, great. If it doesn't, great. I love exploring the dynamics of a friendship(/family/enemies/etc.) just as much as I do the dynamics of a couple. Don't get me wrong, romance does tend to spring up in most of my 1v1s. I play both genders, but have been pigeonholed into playing males a lot lately. I wouldn't mind playing a girl every now and again. :P
    • Anime: Sorry. I don't watch it.
    • OOC: Talk to me! I love to talk! :D
    • Creepy Pasta: Please don't ask about this. I don't even know what it is, really. Is it a fandom? A style of roleplay? My Italian leftovers from over a month ago that have been pushed to the back of the fridge and is now smelling a little funky? IDEK.

    If you don’t see what you’re looking for, please feel free to suggest! I love trying all sorts of new things. I will tell you now that I love gritty, dark, emotional plots. No, I don't mean emo or tormented teen in Nebraska.
    • Golden Age of Piracy (16th century) anything {Pirate x Royal, Pirate x Pirate, etc. etc.}
    • Royalty x Royalty/Peasant/Servant/etc. {Can include fantasy. Any setting: past, present, or future.}
    • (Post)-Apocalypse {Disease, zombie, nuclear fallout, war, or whatever.}
    • 18th century American Revolution
    • Gangster x (Undercover) cop {I'd prefer more mafia-style gang to gangbangers of NY}
    • Science-Fiction
    • Fantasy {Past, present, or future setting.}
    • Gritty superhero, antihero, noir hero, etc.
    • Bounty Hunter x Bounty {Any setting: past, present, or future.}
    • Modern {with good planning and plotting}
    • Video Game Character x Video Game Player

    Also, a few fandoms I may be willing to try:
    • Lord of the Rings {OCs only.}
    • Borderlands
    • Criminal Minds
    • Witcher

    Plot Ideas
    Wanna read my endless bundle of plots?:

    Read them here: PLOTS - Nav's Plot Dump
    #4 Nav, Jan 17, 2017
    Last edited: Jan 18, 2017
  5. Kill your darlings.

    How many times have you read that before? Five? Ten? Fifty? More? The fact is, most writers have heard it or read it somewhere during their literary career. It’s a cute, fun saying that’s tossed around for centuries in various writing workshops and guides and in tutorials split seconds before a new topic is covered, but whoa, whoa whoa… slow down… what does it actually mean to ‘kill my darlings’? More importantly, what does killing your darlings do for your writing and how can it turn you from a good roleplayer into a great one?

    There are thousands of ways a writer can improve their writing and most improvement comes from practice: reading, writing, reading, writing, reading, writing over and over again. As you read more, and write more, you begin to develop skills that cannot be so easily taught. There is definitely something to be said about the intrinsic quality of writing, but as a writer progresses through their skill-set, they are often faced with new and exciting challenged and obstacles that can’t necessarily just be picked-up by routine practice. Like anything, writing is a skill that is honed and developed to the extent of the writer’s interest and desire.

    As writers, there are any number of things you can aspire to be when it comes to writing: a casual roleplayer on the weekends, a publisher, a novelist… the list is endless. That being said, one of the greatest assassins of good writing is not bad writing, but the word ‘aspiring.’ As a writer, you can only be doing one of two things: writing or not writing. Face it, if you call yourself an ‘aspiring writer’ it means you’re not writing. It means you’re not writing good material, it means you’re not writing bad material and truthfully, bad material is better than no material. Before we begin steeping deeper into our topic of the day, killing your darlings, I want you to scratch the word aspiring from your vocabulary temporarily.

    You are a writer, damnit. Aspiring writers wait for their writing to improve by means of magic, divine intervention, or luck. Writers take charge and take active steps towards honing their skills.

    So, writer, let us turn our focus back to the original purpose of this post: you must kill your darlings. The quote ‘you must kill your darlings’ is often misunderstood advice from the hand of William Faulkner, whose quote “In writing, you must kill all your darlings” has been contested over time, but whether Faulkner meant by his words what we are going to explore today, it doesn’t matter.

    Kiling your darlings is not necessarily about killing a character. Instead, killing your darlings is about removing passages, characters, or parts of a piece of writing that you most thoroughly enjoy or take pride in. Many people are often mistaken in thinking that their favorite chunk of writing is their best chunk of writing. They’re probably wrong, and here’s why. Often, the sections of prose that a writer most thoroughly enjoys was written for the writer’s pleasure, not the reader’s. Affection clouds judgement and objectivity on a piece, so a writer’s favorite passage is often proofread with less intensity than a writer deems a less favorable passage or may not even be proofread at all because in the eyes of the writer, it’s a masterpiece. The goal of this tutorial is to practice objectivity about our writing and improve our ability to edit ourselves, so let’s aim our turrets first at the most common darlings that crop up:

    • Extraneous Plot Limbs – I call them ‘plot limbs’ because they’re little branches out of a main plotline that don’t do anything for the main plot except hang off of it like a dead branch. These types of plot limbs often arise from world building. World building is incredibly satisfying, whether it’s the backstory of a character of an entirely new universe. Creating facts, a linear history, and landscape is good to ensure consistency throughout the character and/or world, but once a world is built, the urge to include ‘extra’ can be incredibly overwhelming. For example, when building a planet for a sci-fi world, it can be really tempting to dump pounds of historical information on your players or readers that they don’t need to know. Is it relevant to the story you want to tell? If not, remove it.
    • Wimpy Character – Wimpy characters are not characters that couldn’t hold their own in a fist fight. No, wimpy characters can mean one of two things: they can be unbalanced characters, or characters that don’t have a purpose. No one is all strengths or all flaws and that is true for characters as well. Infuse them with more than one personality trait and avoid shallow characters. This is not the tutorial for character development. If you don’t know what a shallow character is, follow up with another tutorial. Next, a character without a purpose. Whether a roleplay or a novel, if a character isn’t serving a purpose that feeds the plot, it’s time for them to die.
    • Description – For most writers who have a few years of experience, especially roleplayers, killing description is the hardest thing for them to do. Description is meant to expand and excite a reader, not drag down the pace of the plot. If description is not supplementing the ‘show don’t tell’ mentality (another writing quote I would like to cover in another tutorial) or is not adding to a character’s action or a scene development, it’s time to castrate that piece of purple prose. For example, writing “Joe avoided Sally like the plague” does not add any more impact to the action than writing “Joe avoided Sally”.

    Any section of prose a writer writes and loves probably isn’t half as good as he or she believes. While this might not always be the case, we are going to assess quickly several reasons why a writer might be hesitant to cut a piece of prose they feel is their best and later, we’ll review all the reasons why it should be removed.

    • Pride – It can be incredibly demoralizing and frustrating to realize a section of prose may not be as wonderful as you think it is. Often, killing your babies can lead to doubt or withering confidence, but that’s not what it’s meant to do. The goal isn’t to cut everything you like simply because you like it. The goal is to cut things because they add no value to the piece.
    • Insecurity – Writing is a huge means of putting one’s self out there. Every writer has been criticizes, some in nicer ways than others, and it does hurt to know someone doesn’t like something you wrote. This can cause writers to want to over-do plot limbs, wimpy characters, and description just so they can feel like they’re hitting every reader’s interest. I’m going to only say one thing about this: hell no. You’re never going to appeal to everyone, so stop trying.
    • Poor (or No) Editing – Though this doesn’t usually include novelists, I’ve found many roleplayers admit that they don’t edit posts at all. There is a vast difference to a post being acceptable and a post being ‘exciting, mind-bobbling, and worthy of all the ratings.’ Aim to kindly dismember any inessential piece of a post as possible, and that alone will cause a greater impact in one post than you probably would have otherwise achieved in five. Does anyone really want to read about every blade of grass for four paragraphs? Hell no!

    So, with all of that out of the way, we can get into the thick of solving our dilemma: how can we kill our babies? Our darlings? Our prides and joys? There is an endless number of ways to accomplish this and you’re going to have to experiment until you find what is best for you. Here are a few starter tricks to help avoid the over-indulgence:

    • Show, Don’t Yell – Description, metaphors, and similes should do one of two things: aid in your reader’s understanding of a scene or not be in your piece. No matter how many words you write, fifty or fifty-thousand, you will never describe a scene well enough so what you picture in your head is exactly what a reader pictures in their head. Face it, your reader will vision scenes differently than you do. Embrace it. Instead of trying to bog them down with as many details of your vision as possible, provide just the essentials and allow them to create their own version.
    • Value your Pace – A novel, or a roleplay, is more valued when a pace is set and maintained. Writers are often faced with the worry that their readers may not understand what is trying to be conveyed and will go on and add even more detail. Don’t hold your reader’s hand. They are your reader, not your toddler. The more you hold your reader’s hand, the more likely you are to lose your reader.
    • Less is More – If you ever feel even the small inkling of doubt, trust it. You have too much.

    At the end of the day, novice writers often try to compensate for a lack of confidence in either their reader or themselves by over-complicating something that shouldn’t be over-complicated. Slay your doubts with the same ferocity you slay your darlings. If you really want to challenge yourself and improve your self-editing skills, I leave you with a few true tests of courage:

    • Cut out 90% of your adverbs. Adverbs are annoying little words that are seldom necessary. They share unnecessary facts that do nothing to improve a reading experience. They are words like ‘quickly,’ ‘beautifully,’ and ‘randomly’—they modify verbs and you should get rid of them if the additional description is not necessary. For example, ‘she walked slowly ahead’ is not nearly as effective of a description as ‘she ambulated ahead.’
    • Murder anything without quantitative meaning. For example, ‘very fast’ or ‘quite slow.’ This is lazy description that adds nothing. To quote Tom Schulman, “Don’t use ‘very sad,’ use ‘morose.’”
    • Then – The word then is often used to string together actions that probably don’t need to be described. If your character is getting cereal for breakfast, it’s more appropriate to say ‘she made cereal for breakfast’ as it is ‘she got the milk then got the cereal and then made her bowl for breakfast.’

    You are a writer. You're not a future writer, not a 'someday maybe I'll publish a novel' writer, not an aspiring writer... you are a writer right now, in this moment, and it's your job to make the best of it for both you and your reader.
  6. We’ve all seen it time and time again: a group roleplay looks exciting and promising, but it dies out only a few weeks after it begins. There is a nearly endless list of reasons why a group roleplay can be unsuccessful: lack of GM presence, bickering between players, not enough plot to keep the story going, lack of pace, and so on and so forth. Today, we are going to look at one big nail in the grand roleplay coffin: commitment. More specifically, we are going to look at how to build and maintain commitment, and what commitment will mean for you, the GM.

    Commitment can be defined as the state or quality of being dedicated to a cause or activity.

    Why is commitment important in a group roleplay? Commitment will drive players to continue participating in a group setting, even when the roleplay has hit a rough patch. Rough patches in roleplays are going to happen, especially in groups: the GM may be away on vacation, an argument might erupt between players, or a boring scene may be dragging out the roleplay’s pace. A player’s commitment to the roleplay will help them decide whether or not it is worth them sticking it out through the rough patch or bailing the roleplay. As a GM, it’s vital you build a sense of commitment to the roleplay in the players so they keep wanting to come back, even when the roleplay isn’t on a high.
    That’s great, but how?

    Building commitment is harder than it sounds and it certainly doesn't happen instantaneously. There are many methods a GM can use to build commitment in their players to a roleplay. Here, I will discuss a few.

    • Give your players a sense of control. By giving your players a sense that their opinions and posts matter, you build the foundations for the players to feel committed to the story because it is, at least in some small part, their story. There are many ways you can go about doing this.
      • Ask and be up front. In your OOC, ask players what they want to see... scenes, character interactions, special moments, etc. Naturally, not everything players suggest will "make the cut," but by showing you're willing to let them have an impact on the story, you build their excitement and participation. Asking and not even thinking to consider their ideas is a douchebag move though, so if you don't plan on using player ideas, don't do this.
      • Offer subplot options. Feeling like the most important character in the story, even for a short amount of time, is a good feeling for players. While one character cannot be the most important character throughout the whole plot (because that breeds jealousy and annoyance by the other players), giving everyone a time to shine is extremely important. Think of small subplots for your player characters. Even if these small sub-plots don't impact the overarching plot as a whole, it will give players a moment to feel good about themselves.
      • Show support. Compliment your players in the OOC. Don't just mass compliment everyone all at once, but if one player makes a really awesome post, has a neat character idea, or proposes a unique subplot, compliment them! Call them out to your roleplay team and acknowledge when your players are being awesome. Making players feel good about themselves is great, but take care not to overdo it. Empty compliments will have the opposite effect. Note that 'likes' are great, but they should never take place of verbally praising your players.
    • Admit your mistakes. We all make mistakes, including GMs, and nothing is more frustrating to a player than the moment they realize their GM screwed up and keeps trying to make something work. If you get your players stuck in an odd spot, a rough spot, or a boring spot, admit it! Players are more willing to stick out those awkward patches if they know you're willing to admit your own shortcomings. Acknowledge your mistakes, but don't allow yourself to make the same mistake twice.
      • But don't turn it into a pity party. You screwed up. You made things more confusing. You weren't clear and your players got lost. Let go of it, apologize, and set the story straight again. Recognize the problem and make corrections, but don't turn it into a crying fest in the OOC that 'you're trying so hard' and 'you just wanna make it work.'
    • Directives and objectives Many players are hesitant to post or stay committed to a roleplay because they're afraid they'll mess up or post an action the GM doesn't like. Nothing kills a roleplay faster than a player not knowing what to post. So, what I've found works really well to prevent confusion and to give direction, is to post directives and objectives at the end of your GM story posts. For example, I'll write my GM post and in a little box at the end, I'll add something like: "Directives: Your character can either choose to go through the door or flee out the gates." That way, players know there is no question about if they're supposed to have their characters staying, going, or doing whatever.
      • Keep players informed An easy way to drive down commitment to a roleplay is letting roleplayers fall behind in the event they are away from a roleplay for a while. If a player gets lost and feels like they can't get caught up, they're probably not even going to try. Creating an events blog of the critical roleplay ongoings can help ease a behind player's workload and allow them to keep caught up with the roleplay in the event they are away for vacation, family emergency, illness, etc. without having to read dozens and dozens of posts.
    • Give door #1, #2, and #3. I like to call this 'giving players controlled control.' Essentially, you allow players to make choices they feel impact the storyline, even if all of the choices converge at the same ending. Having choices to make always makes the story more interesting for a player because instead of just following the GM from point A to point B to point C, a player may be able to take the option of going from point A to point D to point C. That's exciting! For example, as you can see from the previous bullet point, I gave the players two options: go through the door or flee out the gates. Even if the two options both end with all the players meeting a dragon in the garden, it still feels like they had a choice, and would you rather feel like you had a choice than hearing a GM tell you: "OKAY, take your characters through the door, over the bridge, through the city, and meet the dragon in the garden. Just like that. In that order."
      • Allow multiple solutions. Sometimes, your players are going to think of things you don't. Be open to their solutions they come up with to certain problems. Nothing is more frustrating to hear than "I'm sorry, your characters completed the trials of Marshmallows and Ice-cream, but you failed to collect the Goblet of Gummy Worms. You cannot collect the Artifact of Candy canes. No exceptions." Allow your players to collaborate. Allow them to find loopholes. Allow them to have "AH-HAH!" moments... Maybe they didn't collect the Goblet of Gummy Worms, but I bet at least one character in your group can find a work around. This goes back to the whole idea of "offering subplot options." Feeling like they out-thought a problem presented makes for an exciting game.
    • Encourage chatting. Building a community is a huge part of commitment and if players feel like they're a part of a community or a group of friends, they're much less likely to bail. Encourage out of character chatting by asking questions about players' characters, players' days, hobbies, or inspiration. A player in a roleplay of mine recently began posting "10 questions about your character (like: has your character ever been in love? Explain.)" posts where he'd post random questions and have people answer them about their characters. It was a lot of fun, players enjoyed it, and they interacted in a way they wouldn't have otherwise.
      • Ensure everyone is involved. Find the best chatting medium for your community. A lot of GMs like to use Discord because of live chat, but if not all of your players can join Discord, they may be left feeling left out. Allowing players to feel left out with drive down their commitment and will probably drive them away from your roleplay.
      • Do a challenge. Challenge your players to a friendly game! For example, the person who is able to incorporate the word 'banana' the most times into one of their posts gets a silly little acknowledgement or a prize (even something small, like the ability to gloat for a week or the opportunity to decide the next plot arch). These activities build player relationships, makes them laugh, and gets them posting. It works, trust me.
    • Relax. At the end of the day, roleplays fail. Sometimes the above suggestions will help, sometimes they won't. At the end of the day, every GM has failures. It's your job to learn from those failures and tweak your technique until you are GMing like a god damn boss.
    #6 Nav, Feb 3, 2017
    Last edited: Feb 7, 2017


    Three hundred years in the future, cultures and provinces have dissolved into a single nation, ruled by a sovereign governing body known as Tartarus. The ideal citizen is nondescript and doesn’t pay attention to anything except their own life and their duties in it. While not brainwashed in the typical sense, citizens of Earth are stripped of their most basic identities. Numbers are assigned in place of names and all major life choices in an individual’s life are made by Tartarus. History is outlawed. Memories, at least those not approved, are discouraged. Citizens are constantly reminded that Tartarus is good, kind, and necessary, and are reminded to the rules of the new regime… and the punishment for breaking them. A few people do break the rules, however. When someone commits a serious offense against Tartarus, they’re given a name.

    Their name and face are plastered everywhere so no one will forget it: every social media, every billboard, every TV advert. Everywhere, so no one will forget it. This makes them an immediate outcast amongst all law-abiding citizens and severs their connections to numbered people. Most of the named individuals are thrown into prison camps, but a few have made their escape and are living not-so-quietly under the radar. A rebellion begins to rise from these named outcasts and in the midst of politics and war, blooms love and hope and a thirst for autonomy. With a taste of blood in their mouths and a scent of freedom in the air, the named ones must make a decision to flee from Tartarus or strike for the independence they have longed for once and for all.


    The Living Wage

    It's currently estimated that only approximately 3% of the Tartarus world population is educated past secondary school. While all citizens of Tartarus are required to attend school through secondary school, giving them basic literacy, math, science, art, and music, only those that prove to be exceptional go on to become further educated in education districts, like Mistmill's Southern Wall.

    Those not educated are not permitted to work, as robots and technology take care of most uneducated labour jobs. Instead, uneducated people are given what is called a 'living wage.' A living wage is a monthly allowance given per family unit by Tartarus for their survival. The living wage is hardly enough to live luxuriously, but allows for uneducated people to live comfortably-- including buying electronics, meals, and entertainment. Though individuals are welcome to spend their living wage however they see fit, saving is incredibly difficult, so most live payment day to payment day.

    Hard money does not exist. All money is digital and transactions can be performed either using a card or the banking microchip that is available for installment in an individual's palm.


    The city of Mistmill

    Designated living sector #2231, or Mistmill, is a large city that is built both up and out. Though Earth's population has continued to shrink and age since the turn os 2200, Mistmill remains busy and bustling as ever. It is a hub for business, trade, commerce, and education for those considered good enough by Tartarus to receive it. Though the city itself is surrounded by barren, toxic wasteland that has been uninhabitable for years, Mistmill is bright and cheery. The city host endless entertainment options for those living with the 'living salary', whether it's a quiet drink with a special someone or dancing the night away with hundreds of other partygoers in one of the many night clubs. The vibrant life, thriving under millions of neon lights is moving twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

    There is an underlying hum of life going on in the downtown of the city, drenched in hundreds of people who want to be noticed and are looking for the next big thrill. From the small, elite clubs to huge dance halls, Mistmill has something for everyone. The only question is: where do you fit in?

    Meanwhile, the southern half of the city is closed off to most citizens as it is the educational district. Only those with special access are allowed to venture past the southern wall to be educated. The northern arch of the city is reserved for city-mandated housing. While no one is allowed to buy and sell houses, apartments are granted by Tartarus to each family on a case-by-case basis. Large families receive larger accommodations. Only those who are educated and not living on the living salary are given the best housing. Meanwhile, technology floods every corner of a citizen's life, from high-tech phones to light-speed monorails for travel to televisions that enthrall the senses with taste and touch, to bartending robots. Not a speck of a person's life goes untouched by electronics, gadgets, and gizmos. The Mistmill slogan has always been: "If you should do it, why not do it with technology of the future."

    Nature centers and zoos exist throughout the city that give people an opportunity to walk through groomed gardens to enjoy nature as it once was. Examples of nature out in the city streets are few as decorative nature has become a fad of the past. Some species of animals have adapted quite well to the city life, including rats, small birds, wild cats, and other small mammals. Pets are uncommon, but some people still keep them.

    Other cities like Mistmill exist around the Earth. They are isolated instances of large cities with miles of wasteland between. Monorails and hover-trains connect the cities for denizen travel, though it is extremely rare and difficult for an individual to leave their Tartarus designated living sector to visit another. A passport is required for all citizens wishing to travel to other living sectors, though Tartarus grants very few.



    Though history books and history classes are illegal now, the oldest of the previous generation were alive when the world’s political leaders, cultures, and sovereign natures slowly collapsed inward and fell into the hands of a single governing body known once as Partheon. Partheon, officially founded in 2292, was a socially mute organization comprised of the world’s most brilliant minds and wealthy individuals: mathematicians, physicists, musicians, artists, chemists, politicians… They were famous. They were heroes. They were highly revered, more than any other celebrity and one night, they all disappeared, but not until much later.

    Even those who lived through it couldn’t explain how or why the world collapsed in on itself the way it did. Perhaps it was just too heavy and crazy to carry on the way it always had. Perhaps it had all been planned by some greater powers and all the people were too dug into their smart phones and televisions to care. Either way, countries began to dissolve, one by one, and their ownership was tossed into the hands of Partheon. There was no violence. There were no riots. There were no backlash, no outcries, no protests. It was just like one night everyone went to bed a citizen of their country, and woke up the next morning a citizen of Partheon.

    Little changes came first and they were good: health care, a distribution of necessity wealth like water and adequate food, entertainment. Only the best, most intelligent and physically suited individuals were rewarded with a career and education, while the rest were supplied with an annual ‘living salary’: enough financial means to live comfortably (though not lavishly) without working. The leaders and minds behind Partheon fostered business, settled ancient disputes, and instilled security to nearly every corner of their far reaching power as they continued to rise in stardom. Religion collapsed in on itself and became archaic, sexism, racism, homophobia, and other social triggers eventually were bred out of the population.

    Then, Pantheon's leaders disappeared.

    In their stead, Partheon was rebranded Tartarus and it continued its operations without a spokesperson or human face to their actions. No one knew who ran Tartarus, people only knew that it ran… day in, day out, Tartarus’ great cogs continued to turn. They put soldiers on the street to maintain order. They made citizens get passports to travel outside of their designated living sector. They took away names and instead replaced them with numbers. Things changed in grand scheme, but Tartarus kept digital devices in the hands of their people and no one seemed to notice. Pacified with their things… their electronics… their devices… their foods, the numbered people lived on quite happily, ignorant to the complete lack of life they truly lived.


    Numbered Individuals

    By far the largest population group, the numbered individuals are those who are given numbers as identification. They are the rule-followers, they are those who do as they are told by Tartarus and bumble through life safely and securely. Though they may choose to give themselves a nickname by which their friends and family may call them, they are to only be addressed as their 9 digit number by city officials, soldiers, and strangers. Every individual's 9 digit code is unique to them, and may contain a combination of letters and numbers. No one has publicly shared how or why numbers are assigned as they are, as they are not done so alpha-numerically. Every individual, upon their day of birth, is given a generated number in the form of XXX-XXX-XXX. This number cannot be changed and there are no recorded examples of an individual's number changing throughout his or her lifetime.

    The laws of Tartarus are very public and newspapers, billboards, and television commercials will give brief reviews of these laws, why they are necessary, and the punishments for breaking them. Rumors have continued to circulate different communities about what happens to a person when they break a law and are caught... none of them are good.


    Named Individuals

    Though the world's populations have been mostly ground down into a uniform paste, there are pockets of rebels and lawbreakers who exist throughout the lands... they are called named ones because once they are deemed a threat or a law-breaker by Tartarus, their number is assigned a name. How names are chosen appears, again, to be random. Named individuals immediately have their picture, their name, and their number plastered all over the earth's cities. They are outcasted by the law-abiding society and are hunted mercilessly my Tartarus officials and soldiers.

    Resistance groups exist, though due to limited resources and members, they struggle to dig their heels into the ground against Tartarus, so their goals are usually less about fighting back and more about surviving.

    Recently, Coyotes have been making a large up-swinging in the underground named market as individuals who can help named people get to different living districts for safety, though these trips have proven incredibly dangerous and difficult as Tartarus pursued named individuals doggedly. Once captured, no one is sure what happens to named individuals. All everyone knows is that they don't ever come back.

    #7 Nav, Feb 7, 2017
    Last edited: Feb 12, 2017
    • Love Love x 1

  8. [​IMG]

    • [​IMG]
      {ages 12-13}
      Percy J. Hidalgo

      Perc (generic)

      April 29th


      Portuguese and Spanish

    • [​IMG]
      {ages 13-14}
      Black/dark brown

      Dark brown


      When out of uniform, Percy prefers casual, everyday street attire. He is interested in muggle culture and would much prefer to go through the muggle school system, and his choice of clothing reflects that. He can usually be found in jeans, t-shirts, and hooded sweatshirts. Nothing about his appearance really jumps out though, and he has a tendency to just fade into the background no matter where he is.

    • [​IMG]
      {age 15-16}
      Among medieval astrologers, Aires were thought to be assertive, pioneering, enthusiastic, adventurous, and humorous souls who enjoyed fast-paced and passionate lives. They were mentioned to be head-strong, focused, competitive, and impulsive with bold go-forward attitudes and rather abrupt, sharp tongues. If what has been said is truth, Percy would be a fine living example of Aires. Strong-willed and always fit for a challenge, Percy has a broad view of his future, though can be prone to bouts of childish playfulness. He fidgets, talks a lot, and likes to make even the smallest of problems seem like their enormous, and by anyone's standard, is a social butterfly. Percy has a magical sense of humor and charm about him that people find they either love or hate, though he rarely finds himself bothered with those who don't favor his company because he's reached a point of being comfortable with who he is and no amount of love or hate will ever change those qualities in him. He not prone to mood-swings and is rare to anger or rustle.

      All in all, he's the type of person who is pretty easy to get along with because he very rarely has a negative thing to say about anything or anyone, even if he can be a bit dramatic. While he loves to joke, he takes pride in his work, and puts very serious effort forth towards every job he is given. Percy is usually a follower and isn't usually willing to speak his mind unless pressed as, despite his boisterous personality, he can be vulnerable to self-deprecation. He has a tendency to invest deeply in whims, only to fall into a bleak state when they fall through.

      Detached is a word that comes to mind when trying to describe Percy. He looks at the world entirely through a wormhole and observes it more than he actually experiences it, even though he has had quite the incredible life for a twenty-five year old. He's mentally and physically strong, a pioneer, and is a very firm realist, yet reserves a small part of him to believe in miracles all the same. He's ambitious above all else, levelheaded, and good minded, and wishes to leave behind a positive impact on the world, but fails to see how cut off from the world, and from other people, he truly is. All of his energy is focused into success; he does not accept defeat and failure can never keep him down.

    • [​IMG]
      {ages 17+}
      Jorge D. Hidalgo || father || 61 || alive/estranged || Muggle Mailman
      Harriet F. Hidalgo || mother || 32 || alive || Apparition Examiner
      Cecil J. Hidalgo || twin-brother || 15 || deceased|| n/a

      Alder, Unicorn Hair, 10", Unyielding



      His brother committing suicide

      Cecilia, Saw-Whet Owl

    • Omg I'm so lazy




    Come with me, they said. We will fix all the problems. A new beginning will emerge. See, children, this is why we don’t accept invitations from strangers because they’ll probably take advantage of you. Now, by some unholy means, you’re there… in hell they call ‘Maxicom.’

    Of course, how could you not have been fooled? Maxicom had approached you only a few days after you were given your name from Tartarus for whatever crime you had committed. They sounded encouraging. They promised you to help you escape… they promised to help you get a new number, a new identity, a new start at life away from your shaming name. Maybe you tried other options, but people began to shun you, Tartarus guards began to hunt you, and you began to starve and freeze. Hunger will make you do crazy things; you accept Maxicom’s offer.

    They take you in to a beautiful facility. They feed you, they clothe you. They treat you will. Hungry, you greedily swallow down their bait and then, after you’ve eaten, they arrest you. They take you to a prison. You are surrounded by small cells, all crammed full with other named people. You’re scared, maybe. Or maybe you’re tired. Maybe you’re ready to give up.

    Down the halls, you can hear the pained screaming of inmates. Inmates are led from their cells to the big white door at the end of the hall. They don’t return from the door.

    You look at the other people around you in various cells… you can either escape together, or die together.

    Welcome to Maxicom, the loud speaker booms overhead periodically, every fifteen minutes, Tartarus' leading research lab for human health and development.


    You will be playing a newly named individual. Your crime may range from something simple, like stealing, to something major, like murder. Or, perhaps, you were falsely accused and did nothing wrong at all. After several days of scrambling to survive on the streets, avoiding Tartarus soldiers hunting you and numbered civilians shunning you (or reporting you to Tartarus), you are suddenly approached by a mysterious entity called Maxicom.

    Though they might not have approached you directly, they posted bulletins around known named hide-out spots: in sewers, in back alleys, in 'safe houses.' They sent out digital communications on the ISOnet (Infrared Spectrum Interchange - a wireless, universal broadcasting system). Other named individuals talked about them. Promising named individuals an opportunity to start over and rehabilitate into society, it's hard to resist. Perhaps you resisted for a while. Perhaps you ventured to the destined meeting location right away. Either way, you ended up at Maxicom.

    There, you were arrested. Now, you're in a cramped, disgusting holding cell surrounded by other afraid named individuals. Whatever sort of testing is going on at the facility you can only hear, but not see, you don't want to know. All you know is that you escape, or you die, but you know you can't do it alone.​


    • It should go without saying that all Iwaku site rules apply. This is not a Red or Blue star roleplay and should not have any such content, though it can definitely be mentioned. Utilize fade to black, if needed. That said, this roleplay is not for pansies. It will have dark themes. It will have blood, violence, and cuss words, mates.
    • Don't be rude. This sums up every single expectation from bunnying to picking fights in the OOC to not reading all posts in the roleplay. Don't do it. Also, remember someone's character is not their person. Just because a character is rude, doesn't mean the person playing them is rude.
    • Read everything, including all the roleplay content and all roleplay posts.
    • This roleplay expects one post every two weeks with 3-4 minimum paragraph length. Be creative, be detailed, and explore the world. Make it your own. Third person/past tense only, please. If you are going to be out of the roleplay for a while or need a break, please let me know. That's totally fine. We'll find a way to work around it. If you want to drop, please also let me know. We will write your character out of the story-line properly.
    • I welcome anyone to come up with unique ideas or plot twists, but they need to be run by me (Nav) first. I will almost always approve them or find a way to make them work with the overarching story-line. That said, the story-line is yours to change. Character actions will impact the outcome of the roleplay.
    • To reiterate the most important rule: don't be a dick.


    You may edit the code to your heart's content, but please make sure it contains all the same information. MORE information is fine, but not less. Thanks! :D

    [div=min-width: 575px; margin-right: 17%; margin-left: 17%; padding: 15px; border: 5px #8a916e solid; backgroundimage:url('http://www.color-hex.com/palettes/7707.png'); background-repeat: repeat;]
    [FONT=courier][SIZE=6]CHARACTER NAME (single name, no middle/surname)[/SIZE][/FONT][CENTER][SIZE=2][Identification number (XXX-XXX-XXX - may contain letters and numbers)][/SIZE][/CENTER][/div]
    [div=border-top: 5px solid #8a916e;] [/div]
    [div=font-family: calibri; font-size: 1em; text-align: justify;]
    [div=float:right; display: inline-block; margin-top: -25px; padding-left: 5px;][img]https://placeholdit.imgix.net/~text?txtsize=23&txt=250%C3%97250&w=250&h=250[/img][/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]age :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][age][/indent][/font][/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]eye colour :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][eye colour][/indent][/font][/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]hair colour :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][hair colour][/indent][/font][/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]height :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][height in feet'inches"][/indent][/font][/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]weight :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][weight in pounds][/indent][/font][/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]appearance :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][2 or so paragraphs giving an appearance description. In addition to physical characteristics, can include clothing, weapons, personal belongings, tone of voice, how they carry themselves, etc.][/indent][/font][/div]
    [FONT=courier][SIZE=5][COLOR=#c8ec21][/COLOR]   [B]⌜[/B] PERSONALITY & EXTRAS [B]⌟[/B] [/SIZE][/FONT][div=border-top: 5px solid #8a916e;] [/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]personality :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][3-4+ paragraphs on your character's personality.][/indent][/font][/div]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]extras :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][Optional. Remove if you do not wish to include. May be used for history or other information you wish to be known about your character.][/indent][/font][/div][/div]
    [FONT=courier][SIZE=5][COLOR=#c8ec21][/COLOR]   [B]⌜[/B] WRITING SAMPLE [B]⌟[/B] [/SIZE][/FONT][div=border-top: 5px solid #8a916e;] [/div]
    [div=padding: 5px; height: 300px; position: absolute; text-align: justify; overflow: auto;]
    [div=min-width: 250px; padding: 0px; font-size: 1em;]» [font=courier]prompt :[/font] [font=calibri][indent][Write a post of whatever length you believe is suitable (keep in mind the detailed nature of the roleplay) of your character going through a life-changing moment. It can be anything. For example, how your character got their name, loss of a loved one, or a break-up... whatever moment you feel deeply impacted your character.][/indent][/font][/div][/div]
    #9 Nav, Feb 22, 2017
    Last edited: Feb 28, 2017


    November 2nd, 1988




    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, nunc elit pharetra nulla, venenatis hendrerit, mauris nec odio eget sed at. Augue morbi vel tortor vel congue aliquam, sed lacus velit ut vel, nullam turpis ac luctus fusce justo, purus suscipit curabitur enim. Eget vel non, rutrum quis nibh dui posuere magnis, imperdiet dapibus cras, diam rem euismod, amet sollicitudin. Ac aut ligula sapien in sem, dolor wisi mattis commodo lacus nunc, pede nunc turpis odio. Mattis aliquam, enim impedit consequat pretium, sapien diam, felis molestie, magnis mauris. Scelerisque ut sit hac amet non congue, enim nibh posuere, ac donec enim, nulla malesuada magnis vitae. Hendrerit orci amet in dignissim ligula scelerisque, hendrerit neque suscipit. Orci ullamcorper quam adipiscing luctus porttitor maecenas, nulla ac a, turpis lacus. Ultricies ac lorem proin tristique, auctor donec pulvinar libero, tincidunt lobortis sollicitudin, urna tincidunt viverra, et leo.


    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, nunc elit pharetra nulla, venenatis hendrerit, mauris nec odio eget sed at. Augue morbi vel tortor vel congue aliquam, sed lacus velit ut vel, nullam turpis ac luctus fusce justo, purus suscipit curabitur enim. Eget vel non, rutrum quis nibh dui posuere magnis, imperdiet dapibus cras, diam rem euismod, amet sollicitudin. Ac aut ligula sapien in sem, dolor wisi mattis commodo lacus nunc, pede nunc turpis odio. Mattis aliquam, enim impedit consequat pretium, sapien diam, felis molestie, magnis mauris. Scelerisque ut sit hac amet non congue, enim nibh posuere, ac donec enim, nulla malesuada magnis vitae. Hendrerit orci amet in dignissim ligula scelerisque, hendrerit neque suscipit. Orci ullamcorper quam adipiscing luctus porttitor maecenas, nulla ac a, turpis lacus. Ultricies ac lorem proin tristique, auctor donec pulvinar libero, tincidunt lobortis sollicitudin, urna tincidunt viverra, et leo.


    Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, nunc elit pharetra nulla, venenatis hendrerit, mauris nec odio eget sed at. Augue morbi vel tortor vel congue aliquam, sed lacus velit ut vel, nullam turpis ac luctus fusce justo, purus suscipit curabitur enim. Eget vel non, rutrum quis nibh dui posuere magnis, imperdiet dapibus cras, diam rem euismod, amet sollicitudin. Ac aut ligula sapien in sem, dolor wisi mattis commodo lacus nunc, pede nunc turpis odio. Mattis aliquam, enim impedit consequat pretium.

    • Love Love x 1

  11. Willam "Chai" van der Holt
    Handsome || Dumb

    ⟫⟫ BASICS ⟪⟪

    ⟫⟫ APPEARANCE ⟪⟪

    Of average height and muscular build, Chai inherited his dust-coloured skin from the long line of almond-skinned people that came before him. There is something quite handsome in the tanned skin, Root Beer coloured eyes wrapped in thick black eyelashes, and strong jaw covered with a smear of five o’ clock shadow. He has a mess of shoulder-length, black hair that falls in a tangle of curls. It’s usually too unruly to make stylish or slick back, but he tends to keep it out of his face with a hair clip or ponytail of some form or another. People, primarily his mother, have tried to convince him to cut it all off in favour of a more sophisticated cut, but he thinks it gives him a rather “dashing” and “exotic” look and refuses to chop it off.

    He has a round face with strong bone structure, a roman nose, and unnaturally puffy lips for his gender (boy, did his brother tease him for his pouters growing up). Though his face looks quite serious when resting, mostly due to his thick eyebrows that naturally settle into a concerned scowl, anyone who knows him will tell you that he is usually quite bright in the face, smiling his slightly crooked, but charming, white smile.

    He finds himself to be quite handsome in the colour grey, and wears it frequently, though he occasionally dons blues, greens, and other Earth tones. He doesn’t wear logo'd shirts or bright colours, as he feels they detach attention from his face. Gloves and welders goggles are pretty common accessories for him. Chai has numerous small, fleshy scars along his hands and forearms from welding, as well as a tattoo of a black and white stylised leopard across his left ribcage he got during an eighteen-year-old drunken decision.

    His Converse are always black and his socks never match.


    Among Medieval astrologers, Aires were thought to be the assertive, pioneering, enthusiastic, adventurous, and humorous souls who enjoyed fast-paced and passionate lives. They were mentioned to be headstrong, air-headed, competitive, and impulsive with bold go-forward attitudes and abrupt, sharp senses of humour. If this were said to be truth, Chai is a fine example of an Aires. He’s a little on the melodramatic side, can be a diva when he wants to be, and can throw a tantrum worse than a toddler if things don’t go his way. He lives in a small studio apartment, works a dead-end job, and has little in the way of a future, but even from a young age, Chai always knew he was special—regardless of people frowned on his “delusions.”

    He’s mildly neurotic and will sometimes have trouble separating reality from his daydreams, which leads him to often believe that there are mysterious and evil forces constantly aligning against him. He’s a bit paranoid about the big picture of things, and will often mutter his crazy conspiracy theories below his breath, though he keeps his crazy pretty well hidden from others and comes off as charming and gregarious in the presence of others.

    As people go, he’s a bit unusual, but in a quirky and sweet sort of way: the type to religiously follow his horoscope and put two nickels in his left pocket to “even out his atmosphere.” His sense of humour is both eccentric and off-colour, but he has such a mellifluous smile that he can get away with just about anything with a few innocent bats of his eyelashes. Chai oozes a guiltless, refined charm that compensates for his low intellectual capacity. He’s not very smart, in book nor street sense, though he always knows how to make friends no matter the situation he’s dumped in. Just because he is only supposed to stay in a very small part of the Warehouse, doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy exploring the vast buildings. Chai is a strange man, and once work is done, he quickly retreats to the quiet seclusion of his studio. There, he’s a painter. A novelist, a poet, a sketch artist, a storyteller and, when the mood takes him, a minstrel and player of some passing skill. He has no interest in gambling, surfing the internet, or drinking, but frequently smokes.

    He's suave in the company of someone he admires, but is otherwise fidgety and will never sit down on chairs. Chairs are boring; radiators, tables, and piles of books aren't. It's no wonder his flat is so cluttered with things -- if it wasn't cluttered with piles of things, he'd never have a place to sit down.

    He loves easily, but not recklessly and Ernest Hemingway is the love of his life.

    + | Artsy Fartsy - Chai is just one of those gifted artists. He has tried them all... from oil paint to saxophone to stitching to origami.
    + | Persistence - Though some might claim Chai is persistent to a fault, his belief in himself and in his capabilities never falters. He will always finish what he starts, in spite of obstacles.
    + | Magnetic personality - Chai is quite witty and charming with an innocent sense of humour. He likes to laugh and tease, so long as people don't turn the jokes on him. People seem naturally drawn to him.
    + | Good looking - Hey, one cannot discount how far a pretty smile will get you.

    - | Unhinged - There is no pill for his situation, sweetypop. While he may not have wild hallucinations, Chai is moderately unhinged in that he has very delusional beliefs about himself and what is going on around him.
    - | Immature - Chai is a grown man that often acts like a child. He can be incredibly distracted at times and emotionally underdeveloped.
    - | Overly sensitive - Not the type to wear insults on the chin, Chai is very sensitive to the words of others and even the smallest jibe uttered about him can shake his psyche to its core.
    - | Gullible - What do you mean "gullible" is written on the ceiling? I don't see it.

    ⟫⟫ HISTORY ⟪⟪

    When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen.

    -- Ernest Hemingway
    The start of Chai's life was hardly controversial. There were lots of things he remembered, even from his teen years, but ask any van der Holt how Chai got the nickname Chai and no one seems to remember—not even Chai himself.

    Growing up where homes were modest and a bit run down, Willam van der Holt, better known as Chai, couldn’t have asked for a better youth. The van der Holts was composed of a funny breed of people and the entire family lived within a kilometer or each other to expose the next generation of van der Holts the value of being close to a large family. Aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and grandparents all lived closed and visited frequently (sometimes too frequently) and would frequently have large get-togethers and feasts when their grunt schedules allowed. He spent most of his time fishing with grandpa, wrestling with his older cousins, being given a makeover by their older nieces, or knitting with their aunt. Even from his mid-teens, he could remember all the skills he had learned from his family members (after all, every eligible bachelor should know a good cross-stitch).

    At seventeen, Chai was hired as a welder for the Warehouse, where he his job was to keep the building in functioning order. He was employed to do a little bit of everything: replacing burnt out light bulbs, tightening leaky sinks, and welding together metal boxes to be used for the storage wing. His delusions of greatness continued, though he kept them to himself and continued to paint himself in epic battle scenes against what he believed was true evil. Desiring to keep his family safe from this ‘true evil,’ Chai took it upon himself to move out of his family’s duplex and rent a small studio apartment closer to the Warehouse.

    Nearly ten years passed for Chai before the destiny he knew he had been born for all along occurred… not in the epic form he had hoped for, but in a more subtle way—he fell asleep. At first, he didn’t see it as the sign it was, but deemed it a faulty Nudge patch. Too blasé to care, figuring a few cups of coffee and a pack of smokes would solve the problem and he’d keep the moment of weakness as his own little secret. But the sleep continued. Nineteen hour shift after nineteen hour shift, Chai found himself going to home to his flat and crashing for hours at a time, plagued with nightmares.

    Scared what this might mean for him, Chai did his best to hide what had been happening to him. He severed most of the ties with his family and began keeping his head down at work, trying to avoid contact with others in fear they may discover his secret.

    Then… it came. A single letter addressed to one Willam van der Holt with no return address. Inside was the letter. The letter that confirmed everything Chai already knew about himself.

    He was a superhero.

    #11 Nav, Jul 11, 2017
    Last edited: Jul 11, 2017
  12. Lesser, Greater, Middling.

    Name: Wolfgang Reiter
    Age: 37
    Gender: Male
    Ethnicity: Austrian

    Personality: Though rising to fame in the 80s, after Goldie Hawn commissioned him to paint her portrait, notoriety never seemed to follow Wolfgang. Known for his modest and bohemian lifestyle, he spends more time in his garden growing herbs than he does anywhere else. Though Austrian, he has a love for Italy, and has spent most of his adult-life living there, as he believes it to be a "spiritually enlightened country."

    As people go, Wolfgang is in possession of an unusually kind heart, despite his ever-growing pessimism. Like all artists, there is a certain whiff of depression that follows him wherever he goes, and he very rarely smiles or laughs. He gives selflessly and does not expect favors in return. He does not interfere with other people's plans and is not known to be possessive or jealous, and lives life based on a 'live and let live' policy, thus making him very agreeable.

    He enjoys philosophy and often shares unusual views on the world, and people, around him. At times, he's frustrated by people who agree to agree because he's famous and well to-do, often believing most are too ignorant or down-right stupid to understand the depth of fundamental problems of life. He takes pleasure in teaching others, at least those he believes are smart enough to understand what he's trying to teach.

    #12 Nav, Jan 24, 2018
    Last edited: Feb 4, 2018
    • Love Love x 2
    • Bucket of Rainbows Bucket of Rainbows x 1
  13. Lesser, Greater, Middling.
    Name: Antoine Baker
    Age: 22
    Gender: Male
    Ethnicity: English

    Personality: Antoine is from a wealthy family, though he doesn't act it. He's modest and polite, if not a little shy. There is a goodness about him that attracts people to him, and he has a lot of friends from various circles. He has a good sense of humor and enjoys to make people laugh.

    Not a particularly gifted artist, as his family's money won him a coveted spot at Lorenzo de Medici Art School, he makes up for it in heart. All of his assignments are produced with the greatest effort and attention to detail. Thus, he earns high praises among students and professors alike. While not ignorant to his own shortcomings as an artist, and respectful of those more talented around him, he enjoys it all the same. Whenever he's taking a photograph or painting, it's clear that he loves what he's doing; no matter the outcome.

    With his future already secured, Antoine has little in life to worry about. He sort of just bumbles along.

    Lesser, Greater, Middling.
    Name: Hope Poppins
    Age: 49
    Gender: Female
    Ethnicity: American

    Personality: Frustrated by her lack of fame and wasting youth, Hope lacks everything her name implies. She's a hard woman, a notoriously difficult professor of photography, and a wallower in self-pity. Immensely talented, but never truly recognized in any way she believes suitable, Hope is disappointed her career has ended as a university professor. Unlike many of her colleagues, she is not highly decorated with recognition and awards. Hope Poppins quickly faded into obscurity at the rise of modern photography.

    Her classes are infamous for being easy to fail, or being subject to bumbling, angry rants about famous artists who ought not be famous. Hope has a particular enemy in her colleague Wolfgang Reiter, a man who is well documented as being the object of her jealous rages. As people go, she's unhappy-- made so by the happiness of people around her, and she'll do anything to achieve recognition, perhaps even steal the artwork of one of her students.

    When not being a catty bitch, there are rumors circulating that Hope has seduced and slept with students. But those are only rumors, right?

    • Love Love x 1
  14. @Bears - omg look up because I'm stupid and tagged myself.
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  15. Lesser, Greater, Middling.
    Name: Rafael Silva
    Age: 26
    Gender: Male
    Ethnicity: Brazilian

    Personality: Rafael, of Rafa as he's known, is campus famous. Witty, outgoing, and charming, Rafa charms most he comes into contact with. Having won a scholarship to the university, he's renowned for his talent, and has won a handful of awards as an up and coming artist, particularly his water colours. As athletically inclined as he is artistically, he spends a vast chunk of his time playing football with mates.

    Though he's dated near every girl on campus, no one seems to think bad of him for it. He drinks too much, parties too hard, so no one really thinks much of it when he doesn't show up for his Monday, 8 AM physics course.

    When he isn't seen crawling out for the city's nightlife by Thursday, people begin to grow suspicious of their missing hero. He's not in his dorm, he hasn't contacted his friends... his parents, his wallet and mobile are found on his desk.

    So, the one question people are asking: where did Rafa go?

    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1
  16. Lesser, Greater, Middling.
    Name: Dr Atticus Diedre
    Age: 48
    Gender: Male
    Ethnicity: American

    Personality: Dr Atticus Diedre hates life, and is slowly taking it out on his students. He got his degree in law from Yale, and went on to run a very successful law business in the Big Apple for nearly a decade. Eventually quitting law and business, Atticus and his wife moved their three children to Italy, where he studied and perfected his love of oil pastels. In the art community, he was received moderate success and was recognized to some extent for his work, though much less so than many of his peers. He was invited to a teaching position at the school ten years prior to present, and was known for being generous, warm, and playful.

    In recent times, with onset of exponentially worsening blindness, making his enjoyment of art more and more difficult and a small medical dictionary of other illnesses, Dr Diedre has grown to be a rather cold man. He is strict for the rules and follows them religiously, expecting the same from the entire student body. He's pursued expulsions of several students he's deemed "trouble makers." His classes are generally easy to pass, however, so he's always a favourite for students because he grades on a mean curve. His last true passion, audio-video, inspired him to start an AV club on campus, which hosts its own weekly radio show.

    • Nice execution! Nice execution! x 1
  17. Lesser, Greater, Middling.
    Name: Dandelion Medina
    Age: Who knows
    Gender: Male
    Ethnicity: Who knows

    Personality: Dandelion is just as his name describes him: wild, and a bit flourished. Though he got his start in Vaudevillian plays, Dandelion's fame came to a head when he was discovered in the classical art world throughout the sixties and seventies. He's sassy, defiant, and a womanizer. Known for being a bit of a diva, most art galleries detest... or outright refuse... to work with him, even though many of his pieces have sold for six-figures and above.

    No one knows what his real name is, how old he is, or where he came from... some thing he's Irish, judging from his accent, while others would argue he's Australian. Either way, it seems unimportant to Dandelion how much of his truth it out there in the world. He's known to lie, and be over-dramatic about events. Though he's long since put down his acting career, it seems the whole world has become his stage.

    As an artist, he only ever took on one apprentice, Wolfgang Reiter. Polar opposites in almost every way, their mentor-mentee relationship was a rocky and volatile one, but there is no denying the lasting impression Dandelion put on a young Wolfie.

    He has a love for printed scarves and no outfit is complete without.


    #17 Nav, Feb 4, 2018
    Last edited: Feb 4, 2018
    • Love Love x 1
  18. Name: Princess Ophelia MountBatten
    Formerly: Princess Annelise Alnwick
    Age: 21
    Gender: Female

    Personality: Ophelia is a polite, refined, and agreeable woman of her age and status. She carries a blasé indifference to almost everything and the most intense emotions like love, hate, joy, and sadness seem to hardly inhabit her person at all. She is a rational, long-range thinker, who would make a very suitable wife in the Kingdom of ___ given her position and manners, had it not been for her ill-omened blonde hair. She’s persuasive and anticipative, but this is often tainted by a mindset of being slightly disloyal, as well.

    Very Brief Background: Like all of her siblings, Princess Ophelia has led her life very much in the public eye as one of the King’s daughter. She is, and always was, a standout among her siblings with her stark golden hair and thus is the only daughter not to have received a great deal of proposals for marriage, as many deem the blondeness of her hair as an premonition of an ill-fate. This seems to affect her little and she has continued her life with a moderate education in singing, dancing, literature, and sewing.

    Raised from infancy as a daughter of the king, she (or anyone else) has no reason to suspect that she was actually born a child of the King of ___, who was slaughtered in a deviant scheme and his child kidnapped as a trophy of accomplishment.


  19. ✵MINA LaBEAU

    Date of Birth
    April 19th, 1991




    Short and round, Mina is a curvaceous, broad hipped woman with brown skin and black hair that is so frizzy, it's curled within an inch of its life. It's kept at a pretty long cut, though the curls just seem to get tighter and frizzier the longer it gets; it's wild, but well-suited to her personality. Her head is a bit too small for her busty build (though the puffiness of her hair disguises this fact), though don't mistake her thickness for being chubby, for Mina is an active, athletic young woman.


    Mina is endearing to her friends and perhaps a little bit slow on those who don't know her well. She's extremely enthusiastic and open-minded, believing that everyone deserves second chances and that everything in life is fascinating. It's unsurprising then that the she has a flair for the dramatic and everything about her is showy and flashy. Any small thing that goes wrong is usually instantly declared the 'worst possible thing' and huffed over. She is prone to throwing herself dramatically across the nearest piece of furniture until she is consoled. She makes many dramatic gestures and is definitely a hand talker, hardly able to keep still when she speaks.

    She is prone to using pet names like 'dear' and ‘darling.’ Being ladylike and polite has been described as utmost importance. She sometimes orders other individuals around, just because she loves being listened to; above all, she loves feeling important and like she's changing people's lives for the better. Ergo, Mina has exhibited self-absorbed tendencies. She feels things deeply and sometimes has trouble separating the things she sees from her own emotions, and tends to get emotional about things that she is completely unrelated to. She's of average intelligence, though has no desire to go to school or pursue some grand career as she truly wants to be a stay at home mother someday and would be quite good at it. She is a master organizer and you will never find a single thing out of place around her.

    To quote her, she “hopes to find a man exactly like she is-- perfect, generous, and fashionable. It wouldn't hurt if he was the prince of a small, but rich, country, either.”


    Mina was born in Southern France, where she lived for fifteen years with her family. She and her family, including her mother, father, and two sisters, moved from France to the United States to pursue further her father’s career as a self-employed businessman, who was at the time opening markets in the United States. Her childhood has been described as idyllic, ideal, and loving. Mina attended a local community high school outside of Cincinnati, though lived in a nearby suburb with family. Mina has described achieving good grades, making friends, and enjoying studying art and fashion. She expressed interest in pursuing a degree in fashion in New York, but after graduation, never followed that dream and instead attended a local community college for the culinary and classical pastry arts for a short while. After dropping out due to lack of interest, she got a job at a law firm as a receptionist and office clerk, as it gives her plenty of time and spending money for what she enjoys. Both sisters, her elders by four and five years respectively, moved back to France.