Wondrous West

sun.

What good is just one wing?
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
  4. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Anime-esque, sci-fantasy, adventure, cyberpunk, high-fantasy, Victorian fantasy. comedic slice of life

Overview

Genre(s):
● Western
● Supernatural
● JRPG
● Fantasy
● Steampunk



Group Size:[/hr]
● 4-7


Setting:[/hr]
● American Frontier
● Louisiana Swampland
● Wild West urban areas
● Outback



Influences:[/hr]
● Red Dead Redemption
● Pulp
● Japanese folklore
● Borderlands
● Monster Hunter





tz9k5S6.png

Welcome to the Wondrous West registration thread.

Before making your sheet, please take a look at the rules of the roleplay, and make sure you're okay with them.

● All Iwaku rules apply.
● I reserve the right to deny any player if I see fit. GM(s) has/have the last word.
● Discord is mandatory, as the OOC chatting area will be there. You can access the invitation link to the server by clicking on the OOC picture to the left.
● There is no set posting-order or word minimum enforcement. I would classify this as a high-casual to advanced roleplay, however, not because I want you to "write four paragraphs per post at least". Basically, make sure your post are not just filler. I’m a fairly lax roleplayer and GM, and I know everyone has their slumps. I don’t expect daily posts or novels for each little scene. What I do expect is personal dedication and involvement. Please be active in the OOC, please chat, plot, and have fun with your fellow players, and please do feel free to add your own ideas. With some exceptions, I’ve purposely created the world so that different themes and ideas can be slotted into it in some shape or form. If you have any ideas for story arcs or a concept you’ve been itching to play, plot it with us or even just me, and we can probably make it happen! I want people who are genuinely excited to make this adventure fun, and that means I want people are happy to chat with each other, too.
● Please let us know when you can’t post for a while or wish to drop from the roleplay. It sucks, but I don’t even require an explanation. I do, however, need to know when someone drops or is unavailable for a long time, because it can mess up stories. Just be honest and polite, and I won’t hold it against you. Pinky promise.
● Please do not use real pictures of people for faceclaims. Fantasy or anime/manga artwork is fine.

Character registration:

The character registration will work as follows: First, you summarize your character as they are at the start of the roleplay. Include anything that you feel is important and try to keep it to two paragraphs or less. I might as question about the concept or things that aren't necessarily obvious. This is to ensure that the right "kind" of players are applying, and to save wasted efforts for everyone who I feel I'd decline. Given that I prefer small, tight-knit groups, variety is key, too. Once I'll give you the go-ahead, you're good to go to fill out the sheet properly. The character sheet information is as follows:

Basic Information:
Name:
Species: Human/Other/Yōkai
Sex:
Age:
Nationality:
Occupation:

Appearance:
Elaborate on any details that aren't obvious from your faceclaim. Suggestions to include are: Heigh, weight, clothing style, tattoos or other distinguishing features, noteworthy gaits or postures, generally traits that differ from the provided image.

Personality:
What is your character like? Given that characters should develop their personality through the events of the roleplay (unless they're really old, probably) this doesn't have to be excessive. Outline and summarize what your baby is like. If you want to be specific and elaborate, you are allowed to do so.

Background:
Detail your character's path through life. This should include everything of importance.

Abilities & Skills:
This is fairly vague by design. Paranormal creatures likely possess some sort of magical ability. Gunslingers will be masterful sharpshooters. Maybe you're an expert swordsman. Maybe an alchemist or another type of magically-skilled human. This also includes mundane talents like sewing, singing, and the like.

Misc. Information:
Anything you feel didn't fit elsewhere. Trivia, theme song etc.

You are allowed to design your sheet however you like. Go wild with fancy coding, or keep it plain.

 
Last edited:
This is an example of a character pitch:

Sierra is a lowly temporary help in the smokey saloon Bicho Malo, where she primarily deals with janitorial duties. Terribly lazy and fond of siesta, Sierra is often a bit slow to react, and regularly gets chewed out by her boss for sleeping on his dime. Nevertheless, Sierra is a capable young lady, competent in hand-to-hand combat and surprisingly well-versed in mythology as a result of her time spent in Other-heavy districts. Though her usual demeanor is oscitant, she shows unusual and even extreme energy when amused, having a remarkable comedic streak. Sierra's go-to weapons in emergency situations are Spellslingers; self-engineered revolvers fueled by an occult ritual-bound magic she doesn't quite understand. Due to the dubious association, she avoids utilizing them if possible, often sticking with her bō (or makeshift alternatives such as her trusty old broom) Sierra's past is that of a lonesome and ambitionless drifter, stumbling from one quick buck to the next (and the occasional loss of said buck)
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: marcy
Otaktay Kesegowaase gets the job done with a cheerful smile and faultless manners. So why does everyone who does business with him get the creeps from the young man in the bowler hat and pinstripe suit?

Maybe it's the fact that he has yet to return a bounty alive, or return more of a corpse than the head. Maybe it's the huge amounts of food and alcohol he packs away following a successful hunt and a paycheck. Maybe it's the strangely cold, alien eyes that are almost but not quite human. He gets the job done, and so most folk are happier not knowing that the cheerful bounty hunter known as 'Ill Omen' is in fact an uwabami. It's not a crime to be an uwabami, but most people are understandably creeped out to find out that their neighbour is a giant man-eating snake in disguise. Otaktay does his best to be friendly with people, hoping that if they ever find out his winning personality will convince them not to murder him on the spot.

After all, being a bounty hunter is the dream! People are delicious, and they pay him to make specific people disappear! Who could turn down an offer that enticing? Obviously, he's had to be circumspect in his deals and in his meals, but thus far he's never eaten anyone who wasn't wanted dead or alive. Otaktay's specialty is surprise, with a small crossbow strapped onto his humanised wrist that shoots a short range bolt coated with paralytic venom. He does still carry a selection of firearms should things get a little more...overtly hostile. He's a proficient shot, though hardly the best.


Basic Information:
Name: Otaktay Kesegowaase
Species: Yokai (Uwabami)
Sex: Male
Age: 45 (Human form appears to be around mid-twenties)
Nationality: American
Occupation: Bounty Hunter

Appearance:
Otaktay's true appearance is that of a giant blue coral snake - a red head and tail separated by two metres of black and blue striped scales, with a width of nearly 40 centimetres. However it is rare for Otaktay to adopt this form due to his assimilation into human society, and he only normally changes back if he needs to collect more venom or if he has the corpse of a bounty to...dispose of. In human form he moves with languid fluidity - the apparent lack of urgency is contrasted by the efficiency of his movement. As a result, he can often catch people off guard by the relative speed of his movement compared to what they perceive. He tends to lean against walls, slouch into chairs or hunch over tables more than many others. His usual attire is a sharp suit that seems significantly more hardwearing than most, thanks to it having been woven from bigfoot hair.

Personality:
Otaktay endeavours to be warm and polite to all. He's a firm believer in good manners and courtesy, and rarely resorts to insults unless provoked. While this can sometimes make him a little straight-laced, he tries to avoid being too much of a party pooper. He has a tremendous appetite for both food and drink - capable of packing away vast feasts with gusto while outdrinking the majority of humans with ease. Though not immune to the effects of alcohol, it does take significantly more for it to have an effect on him.

When working, Otaktay is very focused on the goal at hand. He prefers to use his cunning to set out a plan and contingencies, and only move when ready. He has been known to shadow his target for several days before he's been suitably satisfied to move in for the strike. He professes to a need to show respect to the remains of his target in a private ceremony...which is of course his opportunity to turn into his true form and swallow the headless corpse.

Background:
Otaktay was born into a small family group of Uwabami living near the banks of the Colorado River. The small family unit preyed upon the occasional human traveller that they could fool, waiting patiently between meals. The amount of waiting bored Otaktay, and he began to roam ever further from home.

During these travels, he took it upon himself to observe humans and their interactions with one another. The more he learned, the more his curiosity grew. He began to insert himself into human civilisation, first as a 'wandering traveller' and then as a semi-permanent resident. Whilst living amongst people, he had to regularly move or change his appearance because the occasional person would go missing when he became hungry enough. Sooner or later a connection was made, and he would have to move on in the dead of night.

Following one of these 'departures', he came across a man tracking the wanted killer 'Billy Masterson' - a former identity of his - and from him learned of the profession of bounty hunting. He convinced the man to take him on as an apprentice and sent several years learning from 'Wily Will Hendricks' before his mentor 'tragically vanished' one night while camping out with Otaktay on the hunt for an outlaw.

Since then Otaktay has worked the trail alone, using his springbow and firearms to lethal effectiveness. He usually hunts humans, but has been known to take on Yokai and Others if the pay is right. His most prominent bounty was that of 'Tiny Tim Boots', a bigfoot outlaw who was the head of a gang of Others. The hair of Tiny Tim went into making a suit durable enough to survive the hours in the saddle, and earned Otaktay his moniker of 'Ill Omen.'

Abilities & Skills:
Magic - Uwabami have been known to cause rockslides and tsunamis, but Otaktay has given little thought to the magic of his kind. He is more attuned to the earth than most, capable of sensing tremors such as those caused by approaching horses from a greater distance.

Venomous - Otaktay's fangs in his true form are capable of injecting a paralytic venom that causes all the muscles of the victim's body to lock up. He extracts this venom for use in his crossbow bolts when in human form.

Proficient shot - He's by no means a precision sharpshooter, but Otaktay is reliable with revolvers and rifles, able to hit his targets in most situations.

Reputation - Having built up a name for himself, Otaktay carries a certain presence as a successful bounty hunter. His flawless success record thus far has lead to him being referred to by some as "Ill Omen", since him showing up in town is bad news for outstanding bounties. This reputation follows him, for both good and bad.

Misc. Information:
Weaponry
Springbow - A miniaturised short range crossbow concealed in his left sleeve, capable of delivering a bolt accurately within 100 ft. The bolts are coated with the paralytic venom that Otaktay produces in his true form.

Pair of revolvers.

Lever action Rifle.
 
Last edited:
  • Ah Seen It
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: sun. and marcy
For those hunters who place paramount value on style and panache, the Colinas of Spain have long since provided a crucial service: they’re damn good at styling hair. Granted, coming to the Americas, admittedly, has largely been a mixed bag; a swell of young, braggadocious hunters counterweighted by the advent of sombreros and Stetsons with which to conceal one’s bad hair life day. Still, three generations of Colinas have plied their art in the Americas, and Felipe Verdedaro Colina - the eldest son of the latest generation - has talents that will take their enterprise to the zenith.

The Colinas before him could style the hell out of a human, but Felipe could style heaven into some hellish supernatural thing. How to file the horns, produce dyes with which to complement unnatural skin colors - you name it, Felipe’s experimented, and nailed it. He’s got the fiery flair and passionate energy of his predecessors, but also something extra to carry him in this rugged world; if he can cut the hair off a Yokai, he can snip their ear off too. A preternaturally dexterous hand with more scissors than the eyes can count, Felipe Verdedaro Colina’s got style, and grit.

And the sheet is donezo:

2Ar8CY9.jpg

Name: Felipe Verdedaro Colina
Species: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 39
Nationality: Spanish
Occupation: Barber, Hunter, Man of Impeccable Hair

Appearance:
Stands at about 5’11” and is possessed of a slight build, his slender frame adorned with limbs lanky and long, but not particularly substantial. His gait and comportment are almost immaterial, and his movements appear to consist of him gliding from one step to the next. He has the olive skin of a Spaniard, and green eyes that seem to have dulled to a near-grey in his age. His hair is a dark, shiny black, and it oftens smells of an alchemical oil that seems to alternate between pleasantly fragrant and unfortunately medicinal.

Dresses in form-fitting shirt, vest and pants, with an over-the-shoulder cape of striped patterning to complete the outfit. Shuns hats.

Personality:
Felipe, despite his relatively older age, appears to be somewhat stunted in terms of emotional development. He speaks loudly, flaunts about with a showy elegance, and does battle with a certain passionate thirst, but these appear to be his only outlying characteristics. He is obtuse at best when it comes to interactions, with conversations that inevitably veer towards hunting or one’s style, while appearing to be wholly inadequate when probed regarding anything else. He appears to struggle with attachment, and repeated human interaction, and when not assuming his flashy caricature, is prone to being sullen and moody.

Background:
The first Colina that ever came to the Americas was Luis Pacheco Colina, who had been a musketeer first; adept with rapier and bayonet, less so with the finer things in the world. As he came to retirement age (no small achievement, it must be said), he realized that he must assume a craft that was other than simply fighting, and pass it along to his children, so that they might be spared the visceral battles and terrors of the West. He remembered the pompous wigs and hairs and fashioning of the nobles, that his forefathers had been masterful practitioners of such vain concerns in his homeland and - having realized that vanity was abundant in the Americas - became a barber. That, is the story of the first Colina in America.

Felipe Verdedaro Colina was born a day after the passing of Luis Pacheco, who had been his great-grandfather, and the timing was thusly considered to be an omen - a new day. The Colinas in America had won their fair share of successes, lending a helping hand to the personal image of many a fine Hunter, but the rise of fashionable headwear had rendered their services to be something of a chore, and thus doomed their business to be one of middling profits. Donning a hat, after all, is easy enough, but sitting in the barber’s chair is an exercise in monkly patience.

Felipe was to be the foremost scion of their family, someone who could bring real fortune and glory to the family. This had been the decree of Valeria Sanchez Colina, mother and then matriarch of the clan, who had taken over when Felipe’s father had become infirm. Valeria, you see, had done research on the long line of Colinas, tracing their history back through Imperial Spain, the Reconquest, and the earliest of the Iberians. She had arrived upon a singular conclusion: The Colinas had made their name in blood. Thus did she work to undo the efforts of Luis Pacheco; where he had sought for the family to be citizens of peace, Valeria wished to create a Hunter.

She began by recapturing the teachings of La Verdedera Destreza - ‘the true skill’, a universal method of fighting that the Colinas had exemplified for generations. Hiring a skilled Hunter - Jonah Fleck, the Swallow’s Razor - with a large portion of the family savings, she tasked him to instill Felipe with the teachings of the Destreza, of dealing in combat while taking into consideration the most minute of calculations; of angles, of openings and of movement decisive.

Jonah Fleck, it must be said, was a brutal man, who was no less brutal to the son of his employer. Perhaps by sheer process of elimination, he nonetheless became Felipe’s father figure, who won the boy’s admiration despite his crude chastisements, who won his idolization despite the fact that he beat him down in excess of what was appropriate, and who Felipe loved despite the fact that, in truth, he was a bit of a fucking monster.

Valeria, however, had done her due diligence, and known precisely what sort of man Jonah Fleck was: A brutal Hunter, surrounded by heinous rumors, most of them true. During the years after he had been hired, he had continuously embezzled the Colina family funds, using them to fuel many an unsavory purchase and habit of his. Valeria had known this all the while, and allowed it.

When Felipe came of age, Valeria would conspire for her son to know the truth.

When Felipe learnt of it, he had flown into a rage, and descended upon Jonah with such furor that the Swallow’s Razor had thought him a man possessed. Jonah, it must be said, had lived up to his contract; he had taught Felipe too well by far. When their duel had completed, Jonah had been skewered in what must have been every inch of his body, while Felipe had shed not a single drop of his own blood. It had been a final test of sorts, devised according to Valeria’s design. He had passed with the flying colors of blood.

Over the next two decades, Felipe faithfully tended to the affairs of the Colina estate, cutting hair and hunting when called upon. There are those who wonder which of the two crafts holds firmer dominion over his soul, and even Felipe himself is unsure. Despite that, one Valeria Sanchez Colina, matriarch of the family, believes she knows the truth; he is everything she had desired out of her son, he is blood and glory.

Abilities & Skills:
The progeny of the Colina line have always had preternatural capability with a pair of scissors in their hand, and an almost otherworldly knack for deriving beauty out of follicular-situations as dire as receding hairlines, bald-spots, heinous cowlicks… any of the various faux-pas that rests upon one’s scalp.

But Felipe is not just a barber; he is a dexterous, agile hand more than suited to handling himself in a dangerous world. He moves with a pantherine fluidity, a ballerina’s grace and all the explosive burst of some iaido practitioner from Japan. His scissors, of which he possesses 108 to stab, slice, cut and throw, are tempered, treated and blessed with alchemical oils wrung from the hairs of the era’s most beautiful Hunters. And while that may be nonsense, what is known is that in Felipe’s hands, these scissors are possessed of some magic touch capable of wounding even the sturdiest of Yokai.
 
Last edited:
Jin is a man on a quest of vengeance; travelling across the America's killing Yokai to earn a pretty penny, hoping that one day his hunt will take him to the Tengu that slew the Mu-Onna who cared for him as a lost child in the Wild West. This journey has taken him far and taught him much. The most notable of which is understanding the art of the Occult and Kotodama. It is with this knowledge (and his trusty Jitte) that he fights against the malicious Other that inhabit the land.

However, despite his understanding of these alien practices, Jin often finds himself at a loss when it comes to understanding the civilization that he fights for. A kind heart and a penchant for magic does little in helping one understanding the culture of a people he has hardly lived amongst. There are no ancient scrolls telling him of how to hold cutlery, no forgotten spirit to tell him of what he's doing wrong when talking to people and no sacrifice he can make to reclaim the childhood that should've taught him all of this.

Carrying the bloody status of Hunter makes learning all the much harder. It is because of this that he often asks him self: will killing the beast that slew his guardian be easier than teaching himself how any of this works?
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: marcy
If you ask him, Johnny Franklin will tell you he is livin' the dream. And he would be. If the dream was living in a ramshackle saloon and making a living off hunting monsters and bandits.

Johnny is the epitome of selfishness. He's not some proud gunslinger, he doesn't have a vendetta against someone, he was just too lazy to get any other job and decided that killing things every once in a while was a lucrative enough business for the life he planned on living. It's just that his job has a bit of an...unsavory reputation, one could say. People see him as a semi-legal murderer, a vagabond. And he is. But that doesn't mean they can just call him that.

Johnny, therefore, tries his best to have a good time and ignore any prejudice or mistrust directed toward him by his countrymen. He drinks, he smokes, he whores, he does his thing. And, believe it or not, he's really damn good with his trusty revolver. He just doesn't like to show it off. Unless you pay him, of course, and pay him well. Be it in coin, in sex, or in drink, Johnny will do anything for anyone.




LEGIT SHEET BRO

images


Basic Information
Name: Johnny Franklin
Species: Human
Sex: Male
Age: Never ask a gunslinger his age. Let's say late twenties, early thirties.
Nationality: American
Occupation: Hunter, vagabond, town drunk, village idiot. Just don't call him late for dinner.

Appearance:

Johnny's always got a cigarette in his mouth. He walks with a sort of strut, especially when drunk. He has some scars on his back and on his forehead that he doesn't much talk about. He has dark, intense green eyes, and has Native American arrowhead tattoos on his wrists that stretch all the way to his elbow.


Personality:

Johnny isn't a good person. Do not try to make friends with him. He'll try to bed you if you're a woman or rob you blind if you're a man. He sticks with people who are stupid enough to stick with him, and he tends to ruin things with his self-destructive and selfish tendencies. He's sarcastic and tries to be funny. He's not particularly mean, just selfish and comes off as a massive dick. He's not necessarily a savage killer and prefers to disarm his targets and bring them back alive. That's why he has so many enemies. He leaves them alive and they keep coming back for more. It's a great little racket, and he keeps getting paid each time they come back, so he's a fan.

Background:

Johnny was born under a different name in Texas to a farmer and his wife, the first born of seven. It was always up to Johnny to bring home the bacon, and he was honestly pretty pissed off about that. His whole family was hardworking and respectable, which is something he despised. And so, when he turned sixteen, he ran off. He changed his name to Johnny Franklin, after his two favorite gunslingers, Johnny Reynolds and Franklin Gordon. Having stolen a rifle from his father, he declared himself a most notorious highwayman and tried his hand at robbing people. This worked once. He robbed an old man riding to visit his son, who happened to be the sheriff of Jackson, Texas. Johnny got five bucks out of the whole ordeal and a sickly horse. A few days later, he was tracked down by the sheriff and tossed in jail, but not before shooting the revolver out of the deputy's hands and the hat off the sheriff. Seeing the kid had spunk, the sheriff decided to train him, hoping to turn him into a respectable lawman some day. Johnny put up with this for a few years for the sake of the free training.

At the age of eighteen twenty or so, Johnny isn't sure, natives raided the town. Deciding discretion the better part of valor, Johnny fled, leaving the townsfolk to their fate. He was subsequently caught by the Indians, who were amazed by his sharpshooting skills and his mercy, as he refused to kill any of the natives who were pursuing him. They adopted him into their tribe and taught him to ride, hunt, fish, track, and use a bow and arrow. Johnny stayed with them for a couple years, before deciding living in a tent was stupid, and so he ran back to civilization. He thanked the natives for their time, and they declared him an honorary member of their tribe.

Johnny then accidentally joined the Confederate army by reasons he'd rather not discuss. He served for a few years, and that was when he first killed a man. He shot a poor Union lad during a bayonet charge. Pure reflex, but it changed Johnny. After the charge, he tried to desert along with a friend he'd made along the way. Johnny made it out in a bloody gunfight during which he killed the Confederate general and a couple other officers. His friend didn't make it out, and Johnny was on his own again.

He began to wander...for about two weeks. He settled down in a town known as a hub for hunters, or people who fought off bandits and monsters. This seemed right up his alley, and that is where he's stayed ever since, doing what he wants, when he wants, for whoever pays him.

Abilities & Skills:

Johnny is an expert shot with any gun, be it gatling, revolver, or rifle. He's handy with a bow and arrow, he can hunt, fish, track, and ride with the best of them. He knows the inner workings of a sheriff's office, a Native tribe, and the army. Having been a monster hunter for a few years, he also knows the inner workings of the little beasts and knows how to handle most things that come his way.

Misc. Information:

Johnny has only ever killed a couple dozen people. Which is a lot, but rather low by hunter standards. He's also shot his fair share of monsters, but he doesn't count most of those.

He rolls his own cigarettes in the pages of Bibles.

He has two STDs.
 
Last edited:
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: marcy
There are few things in life that can tear a hole the size of a fist in a man's chest. These things also tend to be scarce and invaluable and would blur the line between an argent aficionado and a Machiavellian agitator. They usually require sturdy and intricate mechanisms to alleviate the recoil, which makes them a logistic nightmare. Not for Sue. Having turned over a new leaf, the statuesque Oni found an old time ago that the sun shines brighter when you're friends with the humans. Having developed an interest for high-caliber life and high-caliber bullets, he became a Hunter and attained, over the years, a custom-made arsenal of hard-hitting hand-cannons.

Ever since he found himself in the land of opportunity, Sue quickly fell in love with the cultures surrounding him. They were as fascinating as they were foreign, but he had mountains of time to get accustomed. Throughout the length of his career, Sue became the proprietor of several bynames, all given to him by the communities he rid of fiendish beasts and troublemakers: "Red Mountain", "Wild Hog", "Crimson Giant" are all examples.

Basic Information:
Name: Akikatsu Sue
Species: Yōkai (Oni)
Sex: Yes, please (Male)
Age: 97
Nationality: All-American American
Occupation: Bounty Hunter, Antique Collector and all around great guy

Appearance: Saying that Sue is tall is an understatement. An imposing figure of altitudinous height, Sue stands at a prodigious 7 feet and 7 inches, overseeing everything below the sea line with meticulous care. His reddish skin complexion contrasts the earthy tones of his attire, often choosing practicality over style. A dark brown hat adorns his head, the brim on the laterals spiraling into the crown. It stands supported by the two horns protruding from Sue's forehead. His lengthy, yet simple trench coat drags behind his massive frame and lacks the flair of its more bodacious cousins. A heavy-looking backpack made from the leather of a slain beast hangs from Sue's shoulders. His heavy weapons stand to fill in the blanks of Sue's lacking fashion sense.

Personality:
Sue's reformed persona started off as a mimicry of the old lawmen of the West. He took to observing the behavior of Sheriffs and their deputies and analyzing their ideas of justice. Having traveled from town to town for over 70 years, he managed to develop his own sense of human justice and personality. Somewhere along his journey, he stopped his facade and understood the human culture on a profound level. Today, he is an ally of mankind, fighting to keep cities safe from rascals and eldritch horrors alike.

Background:
Sue's first appearance in this new and exciting world was almost a century ago, and he quickly took to his kind's ill practice of terrorizing the common folk. He lived in a cave near a small mining town and preyed on cattle and humans alike. The end of his predator days was marked by a large caravan whose inebriant contents were irresistible for old Cave Devil Sue. He attacked it, dispatched the humans guarding it and took to enjoying what a very generous higher being had brought to him. He was too busy drinking to even think about dragging the caravan back to the cave. He had a rude awakening when he found himself in a cage, in front of an angry crowd. The exact details of what happened next is a mystery even to Sue himself, as he is often caught telling a different story each time around.

Ever since then, Sue has been journeying across the untamed lands of America, kicking names and taking ass... or was it perhaps the other way around?

Abilities & Skills:
Sue's not a very skilled magical user, but what he lacks for in the arcane arts, he makes up with his precise aim and his overpowered arsenal. All of his weapons are modified to fit his giant hands and thick fingers. Over the years, his aim has only gotten better, his hands quicker and his arms stronger. Along the way, Sue picked up trick shooting and has found that his eye-hand coordination is unusually accurate and that his hands are quite dextrous for someone with fingers as thick as the barrel of a shotgun. He also dared to get into brewing, having evolved from foul-tasting moonshine to drinks that would surprise a connoisseur. One of his later interests was the piano, which he learned to play recently.
Basic Information:
Name: Akikatsu Sue
Species: Yōkai (Oni)
Sex: Yes, please (Male)
Age: 97
Nationality: All-American American
Occupation: Bounty Hunter, Antique Collector and all around great guy

Appearance: Saying that Sue is tall is an understatement. An imposing figure of altitudinous height, Sue stands at a prodigious 7 feet and 7 inches, overseeing everything below the sea line with meticulous care. His reddish skin complexion contrasts the earthy tones of his attire, often choosing practicality over style. A dark brown hat adorns his head, the brim on the laterals spiraling into the crown. It stands supported by the two horns protruding from Sue's forehead. His lengthy, yet simple trench coat drags behind his massive frame and lacks the flair of its more bodacious cousins. A heavy-looking backpack made from the leather of a slain beast hangs from Sue's shoulders. His heavy weapons stand to fill in the blanks of Sue's lacking fashion sense.

Personality:
Sue's reformed persona started off as a mimicry of the old lawmen of the West. He took to observing the behavior of Sheriffs and their deputies and analyzing their ideas of justice. Having traveled from town to town for over 70 years, he managed to develop his own sense of human justice and personality. Somewhere along his journey, he stopped his facade and understood the human culture on a profound level. Today, he is an ally of mankind, fighting to keep cities safe from rascals and eldritch horrors alike.

Background:
Sue's first appearance in this new and exciting world was almost a century ago, and he quickly took to his kind's ill practice of terrorizing the common folk. He lived in a cave near a small mining town and preyed on cattle and humans alike. The end of his predator days was marked by a large caravan whose inebriant contents were irresistible for old Cave Devil Sue. He attacked it, dispatched the humans guarding it and took to enjoying what a very generous higher being had brought to him. He was too busy drinking to even think about dragging the caravan back to the cave. He had a rude awakening when he found himself in a cage, in front of an angry crowd. The exact details of what happened next is a mystery even to Sue himself, as he is often caught telling a different story each time around.

Ever since then, Sue has been journeying across the untamed lands of America, kicking names and taking ass... or was it perhaps the other way around?

Abilities & Skills:
Sue's not a very skilled magical user, but what he lacks for in the arcane arts, he makes up with his precise aim and his overpowered arsenal. All of his weapons are modified to fit his giant hands and thick fingers. Over the years, his aim has only gotten better, his hands quicker and his arms stronger. Along the way, Sue picked up trick shooting and has found that his eye-hand coordination is unusually accurate and that his hands are quite dextrous for someone with fingers as thick as the barrel of a shotgun. He also dared to get into brewing, having evolved from foul-tasting moonshine to drinks that would surprise a connoisseur. One of his later interests was the piano, which he learned to play recently.

Basic Information:
Name: Akikatsu Sue
Species: Yōkai (Oni)
Sex: Yes, please (Male)
Age: 97
Nationality: All-American American
Occupation: Bounty Hunter, Antique Collector and all around great guy

Appearance: Saying that Sue is tall is an understatement. An imposing figure of altitudinous height, Sue stands at a prodigious 7 feet and 7 inches, overseeing everything below the sea line with meticulous care. His reddish skin complexion contrasts the earthy tones of his attire, often choosing practicality over style. A dark brown hat adorns his head, the brim on the laterals spiraling into the crown. It stands supported by the two horns protruding from Sue's forehead. His lengthy, yet simple trench coat drags behind his massive frame and lacks the flair of its more bodacious cousins. A heavy-looking backpack made from the leather of a slain beast hangs from Sue's shoulders. His heavy weapons stand to fill in the blanks of Sue's lacking fashion sense.

Personality:
Sue's reformed persona started off as a mimicry of the old lawmen of the West. He took to observing the behavior of Sheriffs and their deputies and analyzing their ideas of justice. Having traveled from town to town for over 70 years, he managed to develop his own sense of human justice and personality. Somewhere along his journey, he stopped his facade and understood the human culture on a profound level. Today, he is an ally of mankind, fighting to keep cities safe from rascals and eldritch horrors alike.

Background:
Sue's first appearance in this new and exciting world was almost a century ago, and he quickly took to his kind's ill practice of terrorizing the common folk. He lived in a cave near a small mining town and preyed on cattle and humans alike. The end of his predator days was marked by a large caravan whose inebriant contents were irresistible for old Cave Devil Sue. He attacked it, dispatched the humans guarding it and took to enjoying what a very generous higher being had brought to him. He was too busy drinking to even think about dragging the caravan back to the cave. He had a rude awakening when he found himself in a cage, in front of an angry crowd. The exact details of what happened next is a mystery even to Sue himself, as he is often caught telling a different story each time around.

Ever since then, Sue has been journeying across the untamed lands of America, kicking names and taking ass... or was it perhaps the other way around?

Abilities & Skills:
Sue's not a very skilled magical user, but what he lacks for in the arcane arts, he makes up with his precise aim and his overpowered arsenal. All of his weapons are modified to fit his giant hands and thick fingers. Over the years, his aim has only gotten better, his hands quicker and his arms stronger. Along the way, Sue picked up trick shooting and has found that his eye-hand coordination is unusually accurate and that his hands are quite dextrous for someone with fingers as thick as the barrel of a shotgun. He also dared to get into brewing, having evolved from foul-tasting moonshine to drinks that would surprise a connoisseur. One of his later interests was the piano, which he learned to play recently.[/spoiler]
 
Last edited:
  • Like
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: sun. and marcy
The Wild West might be one of the last waning vestiges of freedom. A boisterous, dusty, & malice ridden world oozing opportunity and anguish from every crack and crevice, looking to snatch the breath of any bold enough to stick their neck out too far. Many a man & monster have seen a horizon that stretches for what seems like infinity, and felt the call of adventure and hard won coin.
But what good is coin when there is not somewhere to spend it? A place where the whiskey runs freely, the supplies are cheap, the bullets are complimentary and the danger is well, occasionally less than directly outside.

While grimy saloons are a dime-a-dozen, perhaps none is more famed or revered than Dry Man's Drought, a rusted carcass of an old steam boat, stranded on the cusp of a dormant river bed.

Inside, you will find but one proprietor, Capricious Ilo. A gnarled, frog-legged, boulder of a Kappa, said to be born from the rolling mud of the last great flood. It would be a gross understatement to say that very few hard truths are to be found inside Dry Man's Drought; the rumors surrounding Capricious Ilo and his mysterious ship often seem to be floated out by the Kappa himself. The covetous turtle seeming to delight in gossip and misinformation which spreads like wildfire across the unsettled plains.

But if your throat is parched, your revolver empty, and your purse full, then the Dry Man shall be calling your name soon enough.


Basic Information:
Name: Capricious Ilo
Species: Kappa (Yōkai)
Sex: Male

Age: Merely speculative.

Nationality: American

Occupation: Entrepreneur - Proprietor of Dry Man's Drought, collector of curios, peddler of tall tales and half-truths & merchant of death, drink and dilapidated dorms for a modest fee.



Appearance:
Relatively large for a Kappa, the 5'0 Ilo much resembles a living, lumbering rock dragged freshly from a nightmarish swamp. Hunchbacked, Ilo’s fibrous, ape-like limbs are capped by broad, bone-crushing talons. His thick, sinewy legs propelling his stocky body with an awkward, lurching gait that thinly veils a natural ability to lunge and accelerate quickly, especially in water.
Insects scuttle and buzz across craggy scales the hue of petrified wood, his hunched form alive with cascades of lichen and moss from the tips of his padded toes to the cusp of the shallow pool atop his head. The pool perpetually oozes clumpy dizzles of muddy fetid water, and from it’s brim spring a handful of carnivorous plants. These plants seem to regard other life, insect or otherwise, with a mind of their own.

A hulking, spiked carapace grows across his wide back, painted in strange symbols and adorned with leather strands of questionable origin that shift and sway with beads, dried flowers, feathers and bits of desiccated carcass of equally dubious origin. The chitinous material extends in a cavernous semi-circle over his sturdy shoulders, casting his features in permanent half shadow; all the better for hiding his oft insidious intentions. Those that catch a fleeting glimpse into his glittering onyx orbs often wish they hadn’t, citing a keen intelligence which lurks behind the beady eyes and a ragged razor-sharp beak which snaps open and closed absentmindedly.

Ilo wears little, his most sensitive organs hidden behind the rippled plastron which makes up the inner half of his protective shell. Aside from his natural armor, the Yōkai wears a belt woven of heavy corded rope, decorated with trinkets and pouches of mysterious powder.



Personality:
A famous playwright once wondered, “What’s in a name?”

Capricious Ilo is exactly that. Fickle, cunning and greedy, Ilo is a duplicitous friend to those with something to part with and a hellacious foe to anyone that doesn’t deem to dance on his strings.

The turtle is notoriously shrewd in his business practices, constantly schmoozing, negotiating and reneging on details in his many and varied dealings. However, a history of massive bounty payouts, a store that always seems to have what a weary hunter or gullible traveller needs and an uncanny ‘luck’ with flash flooding always seem to keep the Dry Man’s Drought in the thick of the action. To be sure, Ilo’s reputation proceeds him, but not everyone can agree exactly what that reputation actually is.



Background:
Ilo is a creature born of an unholy union, the embodiment of the monstrous magics contained within the pot and the feral energy of the remotest reaches of the Louisiana swamps. That much seems almost certain, though the true history of the Kappa is tough to pin down.

If one were to look, one could find any number of newspapers that had woven tales of Kappa and their habits, and were one to ask Ilo which of these exploits were his own, he would claim to them all. Even if they happened to take place on the same day, thousands of miles away.

The history of The Kingsman, a proud gambling vessel, is a little more concrete and perhaps more interesting. A long chain of unbroken years shuttling elite members of a burgeoning country up and down the Mississippi to enjoy some of the finer things in life: fine dining, top shelf brandy, cigars, whores and all the worst byproducts such activities produce.
It wouldn’t be until an unruly bunch of savages known as the Bricktooth Bandits got the bright idea to commandeer the boat for a chunk of easy loot that things would change. The robbery was a success, the authorities unprepared for the ballsy maneuver, caught flat footed and ineffectual. After collecting the money & valuables and executing the occupants and jettisoning their corpses into the river, the Bricktooth Boys found themselves caught between slow moving stockades from either side. On a whim they drove the steamboat deep into the swamps, narrowly escaping in what seemed virtually impassable terrain. It would be the last that human civilization thought of the The Kingsman.

The Bricktooth Bandits would of course barely make it out of the other side of those dense, foreboding swamps, their numbers cut to three of the original nine members when they appeared again, continuing their path of destruction on down to Mexico, where they would stumble upon a strange pot buried in a shallow pit in the middle of the desert.

It is said that Ilo followed the wake of death and suffering they had left back to those swamps, and back to The Kingsman.

While no longer the gleaming beacon of aristocracy, the dessicated carcass of the boat has just as many sightings across the US as the sinister turtle himself. The now named Dry Man’s Drought timely riding in to areas on swollen streams and flooding lagoons, always offering respite and whiskey to those caught in various states of disarray and destruction, buying and selling the latest pelt, skull or horn of whatever nasty beasty rears its ugly mug, and always quieting searching for the fragments of a certain pot.


Abilities & Skills:
A Stockpile Of the Occult, Absurd and Genuinely Magical - The Dry Man’s Drought is quite possibly the largest concentration of mythical, magical and mundane imposter objects in the world. Every where one looks : the bar, the ornately decorated rooms, every surface and object is either a genuine article or Ilo will pawn it off as one. Yeti Down Comforter, A Tooth from Nessie, A Sword Smelt from a Fallen Star. You name it, Ilo has two.

The Kingsman - The boat’s dark history has imbued it with some kind of power. It seems to have uncanny luck, navigating streams and rivers that seem to grow to accommodate its bulk, & never sinking despite looking like something that spent much of its existence being reclaimed by the swamps.

Strength - Ilo, like most Kappa, is a fearsome hand to hand combatant, particularly adept at bullying opponents because of his low center of gravity.

Shell & Scales - Thick, built-in protection from elements, magic and conventional arms alike.


Misc. Information:
Ilo’s willing to part with virtually anything one lays eyes on within the Dry Man’s Drought save for the boat itself and his prized possession : the partially completed fragments of the pot which once housed he and his Yōkai brethren. He has been carefully collecting shards and chunks from ignorant hunters for decades, as Ilo can sense the magic signature they hold within.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: sun.
I'm going to accept pitches until the end of the week. If you express interest until Sunday, I might extend this, but after that point, I feel we will have sufficient quality concepts to get this running!
 
  • Like
Reactions: marcy
Everyone with a Rainbow rating is accepted. Quiet and Athrwyths can finish their sheets over the weekend. Opening post is now linked in OP or alternatively you can click here: Wondrous West

IC is open to everyone who is accepted to kick things off. :)