- Posting Speed
- One post per week
- Online Availability
- 5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
- Writing Levels
- Give-No-Fucks
- Adept
- Advanced
- Douche
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
[ riseagain: a fantasy roleplay of quirky characters, bizarre magics, exploration, and the occasional tearjerker ]
I am often asked questions of a simple yet foundational nature; "how did we come to know of magicks?", and "how come we live beneath the ground and the colorless sun?". Let me begin, then, by instructing:
Eons ago, there was this absolute wanker of a deity name of Kotodama, who liked to profess himself as 'Grand Lord of Chaos and the Swirling Force'. As the stories tell it, Kotodama was a spindly-armed braggart that had never himself worked a honest day, but who derived his power from a magical grimoire the size of a giant that held all manner of spells and incantations. One fateful day, the prick boasted about with his grimoire, until his stick-arms could carry it no longer, and he dropped the grimoire from beyond the sky.
The grimoire shattered, and rained down its magical contents upon our world, in the form of thunder and lightning and fire and cliches-of-that-nature. By the time the storm was over, the world was barren and toxic, a poison waste. Those that remained were changed forever. Our ancestors found that choice words from Kotodama's grimoire were inscribed into their skin, a single word or phrase for each person; those that were able to tap into these unreadable words found that they blessed them with some esoteric power.
Yet for all their newfound power, they could no longer remain above-ground. Many years, and hundreds of thousands of lives were thusly sacrificed to create the underground kingdom of Inferia, where we live (happily, I am rather forcibly told) to this day.
We carry Kotodama's mark, the words of his grimoire etched unto our skin, passed on from generation to generation.
You are a citizen of Inferia, the underground kingdom your predecessors before you carved into the mud, all for the express purpose of protecting you from the poisons above. It is a kind enough existence, if only because it's the only existence you've known to be viable. You are of a lowly-race, be you an elf, or a human, a fae or a slime, and to enter the surface through the Elevator would mean a slow, asphyxiating death. You are told that only Balliol the Mercantile Dragon subsists above the surface, who gathers hoards of food and resources from aboveground, trading them to Inferia in exchange for…
… something unsavory, as the rumors have it.
The kingdom is forever riddled with aspiring revolutionaries and activists, who protest the 'tiered-system' of Inferia; the peasants and the commoners fester at the bottom, the last to receive whatever scraps are left from Balliol's offerings. Some time ago, you came across some noodle-armed, snot-nosed wannabe, passing out papyrus business cards and written manifesto of his revolution-to-be. His works contain the image of a girl, who he says is blessed with a single special word from Kotodama's grimoire that he claims to understand: Restart. He claims that she can un-fuck the world, if only they could just get her to the surface.
What a crock of shit.
Days later, the Kingdom is in bedlam, the Inferian Guard barging through door after door, and Wanted! posters litter the bounty boards of Inferia.
You recognize the girl's face upon the poster.
Hi! Thanks for reading. Riseagain is intended to be a fantasy roleplay that doesn't take itself too seriously (as evidenced by some of the non-sequiturs I threw into the above blurbs), but also engages in certain darker or more emotional themes. Cause, really, I need my pathos.
Our characters are citizens of the underground kingdom Inferia, centuries after some alleged magical apocalypse happened and 1) gave everybody the dormant potential for magic and 2) made the surface-world a toxic wasteland. Characters have some 'magical word' etched upon their skin like a birthmark, which represents a dormant potential for magics unique to them/their bloodline.
The story begins with the kingdom up in arms, the Inferian Guard in search for some girl who some crazy schmuck has allegedly claimed can cure the surface-world. While this allows for a wide variety of opening character motivations, I am going to railroad a bit; the intent of the story is to eventually band up to protect this girl, and go on some fantastical journey.
Roleplay will have some certain YA/shounen anime/manga sensibilities, namely when it comes to our band of protagonists and furthering their abilities, not being full serious 24/7 etc.
Feel free to hit me with any questions and/or express interest!
