wiggychiggy
The Purulent One
Ancient Legion
We bones, lying here, for yours we wait
Posts: 136
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The Purulent One
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Jun 20, 2019 20:49:11 GMT -6
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wiggychiggy
We bones, lying here, for yours we wait
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Jun 12, 2015 21:23:09 GMT -6
June 2015
wiggychiggy
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Post by wiggychiggy on Sept 6, 2015 20:43:59 GMT -6
A castle has erupted from the ground somewhere in the ancient forests of Eastern Europe and has begun spewing forth legions of what can only be described as the Undead. Ill tidings are everywhere as something unnatural claws it’s way to the surface of this world. Strange eldritch portals are emerging from thin air as more monsters pour out...but with these monsters from other worlds come heroes as well...
Welcome to Collide, my forum roleplay thread! Rather than have a detailed plot and storyline in mind I’ve decided to introduce something more open-ended to everyone. The down and dirty gist of the plot is as follows: someone or something has raised a giant, Gothic castle and it’s surrounding buildings seemingly out of the ground itself. The area around the castle is an ancient span of old growth forest which straddles the border between two third-world countries. Shortly after the castle appeared rifts in the fabric of space and time began to open up for miles around it. More monsters spilled through-- villains cast adrift through space and time--but something came with them. Heroes of the realms--the Belmonts, the Morrises, and other heroes lost to myth and legend. It is the siren call of this castle which draws would-be heroes and their dark counterparts to an uncertain fate...
This unique setup will allow for an interesting mechanic: there very well may be two Alucards in the same room at the same time, two very different Simons, and the like.With this in mind let’s review the rules for this Roleplaying thread:
1.) Respect your fellow players at all times. While I understand that your PC (Player Character) may be mortal foes with someone else’s, there is no reason to take the tension of the RP thread to the larger forum abroad. We’re all part of this forum to enjoy Bloodstained with our fellow fans. 2.) With regards to multiple people playing the same character I am going to cap the limit of repeated characters to 2. Any more than this will become confusing and I sincerely do not want to see players fighting over their favorite characters. With this in mind OC (Original Characters) are completely welcome. They will be bound by the same rules as all other characters however, as detailed below. 3.) Fair play is fun play. There will be no tolerance of god-modding, auto-hitting or other violations of basic forum role-play etiquette. There is to be no permanent killing of any PC unless it is agreed on by both parties. With this in mind not even the immortal Dracula and his perennial minion, the physical manifestation of Death, can ignore every attack. A defeat does not signify character death.
For convenience sake I have included a small character skeleton to help new, up-and-coming roleplayers flesh out their OC while still leaving enough wiggle room for characters to develop in an organic way: Name: Race: Signature Weapon: A brief physical description: Reason for entering the castle:
On this note I will personally make the first post tomorrow in order to get the ball rolling on what I hope will be an excellent thread that carries us all the way to the debut of Bloodstained itself!
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wiggychiggy
The Purulent One
Ancient Legion
We bones, lying here, for yours we wait
Posts: 136
inherit
The Purulent One
85
0
Jun 20, 2019 20:49:11 GMT -6
117
wiggychiggy
We bones, lying here, for yours we wait
136
Jun 12, 2015 21:23:09 GMT -6
June 2015
wiggychiggy
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Post by wiggychiggy on Sept 7, 2015 8:39:19 GMT -6
Name: Constanz Waites
Race: Human (?)
Signature Weapon: Constanz always carries a nondescript sheath from which the hilt of a sharkskin-wrapped katana hilt can be seen. When drawn the katana glints in the light with a distinctive blue hue. It's properties beyond the unique coloration of it's blade are unknown at this time.
Appearance: With piercing blue eyes and silver-grey hair Constanz appears much older than he claims to be. However, his body carries the scars of an entire other lifetime lived in certain violence. His body is highly athletic, but the muscles beneath his skin stand out like the tormented roots of old trees. His face carries a distinctive set of scars which cascade down the left side of his features from hairline to jaw. They appear red and vivid as if freshly healed...or never healed correctly in the first place.
When the castle appeared Constanz immediately felt drawn to it. He had heard the rumors--they were the current talk of all the various bars and taverns that he frequented while looking for freelance work. The wound on his face throbbed with a dull ache, warning him that there was more to this mysterious ruin than what lay on the surface, much like himself. Yet curiosity compelled him to plumb it's strange depths, investigate the creatures that lay within it's walls, and catalog the strange encounters with both friend and foe, knowing that the castle would draw many people who live the same transient lifestyle as he. Flying in the face of the dangers he knew must lurk inside the castle he sought to explore it's every nook and cranny to his own personal sense of satisfaction.
With this in mind the wanderer once more slipped on the harness of his massive, over-sized pack around his shoulders. It was time to depart from this droll, grey world of safety and security for the brilliant danger of the unknown. For the first time in years Constanz felt alive again! Gazing down the lonely road that lead into the ancient forest and the castle itself he tossed his head back and cackled with delight. Setting out in early the morning with nothing more than the sun cutting through the morning mist to guide his way. He was soon in the midst of this ancient forest itself. "It's...unusually noisy for an early morning forest." He muttered darkly, brow furrowing in minor annoyance. "And here I am not having enjoying my morning cup of coffee yet!" The sound of something trampling through the brush caught his attention. It appeared to be a corpse given life, judging by the awful pallor of it's skin. Ragged strips of meat hung slack from it's jaws...the viscera of it's latest victim. The wanderer was nonplussed. With a soft groan he shed the pack as if it was weightless and reached for the katana on his right hip. The satisfying click as the blade unstuck from the scabbard for the first time in months.
There was a blue flash as his katana caught the rays of sunlight shining through the treetops and the zombie slid cleanly in two, it's spine severed. "Oh! And no one was around to see it! Of course not! I kill an undead beast in one blow and no one will ever believe it! Hah hah hah haa!" Whisking the old blood from his blade with a few quick gestures it slid once more back home. "And here I was worried that I would never be able to make it to the castle before sundown. There is nothing more terrifying in this forest than me...for now!" Chuckling to himself Constanz took up his backpack and made good time towards his destination. Soon the towering edifice of stone and it's surrounding outbuildings loomed before him. Standing before the entrance with arms akimbo and hands resting on his hips the wanderer's weary blue eyes took in the situation. "Mmmmh....the bridge is up." Setting his backpack down Constanz found a comfortable spot to sit as he began to rummage through it. "I know I should have invested in a grappling hook! That would solve all of life's problems right now!"
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LuckPercentSRL
Critical Striker
Loyal Familiar
On the forums here and there. Possibly streaming once a blue moon
Posts: 206
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Critical Striker
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Jan 27, 2024 10:34:43 GMT -6
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LuckPercentSRL
On the forums here and there. Possibly streaming once a blue moon
206
Jul 13, 2015 8:20:31 GMT -6
July 2015
luckpercentsrl
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Post by LuckPercentSRL on Sept 7, 2015 22:49:37 GMT -6
Hoorayyyy for rp. I'll just put this in and get started maybe tomorrow or Wednesday... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: Travis Simeon Cosma (Nickname/goes by: Trav)
Race: Human (Cursed and controlled)
Signature weapon: Trav carries a miniature claymore (where the blade stops at the middle). This weapon has been stolen from another warrior that Trav has come in contact with. But after acquiring said weapon, he held onto it for the longest time out of the other weapons he's held on to. The blade itself isn't a regular claymore. Down the middle of the blade lies a red stripe where it draws in the blood of the killed. Once Trav has slain something that bleeds only blood (so other beings that don't have blood for some reason aren't effected), whatever blood is on that sword is taken in and increase the power and speed of the weapon. Each different blood it receives, the stronger and faster it gets. The only problem with it is that the blade can eventually lead to a blood lust rage where it can control the user to lose control of their mind and body and go on a endless killing spree. Because of the consequences of the blade he holds and the controlling power, Trav cannot muster his own willpower to remove the blade from his life until his quest is completed.
Description: Travis Simeon Cosma is a young-middle aged man (38 years) with short black-brown hair and brown eyes. He has a scar under his right eye and isn't afraid to show any battle scars. Trav wears a rather tattered shirt protected by his leather coat and black long pants with a hole on the knee. Finally, he wears grey combat boots.
Backstory (kinda important so need to): Trav is a mute and a controlled being. He's also been called a thief, an outcast, demon, murderer, psycho, unclean, and some others. These are because of his recent actions with his blood drinking blade. Back when before all this began, Trav wasn't like this at all. He never murdered anyone that was a human and if he had too, it was the last thing he would try to do. Times then have changed. It all started with a unexpected visitor to his small village. He, being the village's only self trained warrior, rode out to meet the visitor The village itself doesn't welcome merchants, vendors, nor magicians since given past track records of other villages not having success with those. Trav politely told the stranger, whether or not if he or she is traveling through the village, to either turn around or find another route. A voice emerged from the cloak that the figure had. It was hard to figure out what had been said. The visitor immediately struck Trav with a shock spell, rendering him unconscious. When he had awoke, he found no sight of the stranger. One other thing was that his voice was gone. He tried for a long time, regaining his vocal speech and even had the town try to help. He knew that one possible way he could regain his voice is go after that mage that passed by and convince them. Trav had a lead from a nearby warrior in training and went off. Along the way, he came in contact with a rogue warrior who held a mysterious looking claymore. Trav never wanted to fight but the enemy insisted by his barbaric tone. Eventually, Trav did kill him as it was the only thing he could do to get out of the situation. At the end of the battle he received a scar on the bottom of his right eye and some tears in his undershirt. Trav then noticed the blade the man was carrying. It called to him. So Trav took the blade, since his old one was starting to get dull and there wasn't a blacksmith around.. This blade was a sword that would consume blood upon contact and grow in strength and soon make the user thirst for more. Trav killed one monster, then another that stood in his way of his quest. Then he didn't realize he killed one human being, then another, and another, until he completely murdered an entire village (take in mind that the blade doesn't control him completely. It doesn't do so unless he actually murders a village). He stole clothing from others, banished from his own village, even tried killing himself, but failed. Trav knew the danger he has with this sword, but his mission wasn't completed. He wanted to continue.
Why he chose to enter the castle: Short and simple, to find a cure to his mute and release from the sword he possesses. It isn't for heroism or for bravery, it is because he wants to be free from his imprisonment. Even if he somehow gets cured, he'll still walk the world a lone warrior until he finds someone who accepts him. But first he has to regain his speech once more.
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wiggychiggy
The Purulent One
Ancient Legion
We bones, lying here, for yours we wait
Posts: 136
inherit
The Purulent One
85
0
Jun 20, 2019 20:49:11 GMT -6
117
wiggychiggy
We bones, lying here, for yours we wait
136
Jun 12, 2015 21:23:09 GMT -6
June 2015
wiggychiggy
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Post by wiggychiggy on Sept 25, 2015 1:26:00 GMT -6
After a concentrated effort in the span of fifteen or twenty minutes Constanz came up empty-handed. “Damn damn damn.” He muttered beneath his breath. Rolling his head back on his shoulders to sigh into the morning air. “I didn’t want to have to do this…” The wanderer had discovered he was still holding onto a grapnel, but for the life of him had no idea why he had not packed rope inside his pack on this particular outing. Constanz did however, always carry with him one other weapon, a dagger with a handle crafted from a length of human femur. Pulling it out of the sheath on his thigh Constanz produced a dingy-looking piece of cloth to lay on the ground before him. “A good traveler always carries his towel!” With a laugh he shed both his jacket and shirt, folding them neatly before stowing them into his backpack once more.
Kneeling on the towel with the grapnel close at hand Constanz took the dagger in both hands and turned it towards himself. Plunging the blade deep into his abdomen. “Ah…” He gasped softly as the pain drove the air from his lungs. “This…never gets easier…” The blade worked its way across his midsection and he made a repeated sawing motion to work the blade further, pushing past the pain. A gout of blood spurting from his lips and effectively choking off any other smart comments he could have made. Once this was complete the wanderer took the grapnel off the ground with one hand and pushed his free hand deep into his still-pulsing innards. Spooling out his intestines in a truly revolting display. In a horrific perversion of nature however, there was very little blood involved in this process. His lips drew up into a tight line as he tied one end of his own guts around the grappling hook.
Limping over to the gate of the castle he sized up the top of the upright bridge with a nod. A whistling sound soon filled the air as he swung the hook which was now tied securely to one end of his own organs. With a grunt of effort the unsightly rope-and-hook creation sailed forth, unspooling several feet of his own viscera, before finding purchase at the top of the upright bridge. It jerked him along before the spines dug themselves into the aged wood.
“It might not look like much, but it’s my golden shiny wire of hope!” Gritting his teeth hard Constanz began his laborious climb. Soon he was atop the bridge and able to survey what he could from the top while he haphazardly tucked his bits back into place. “I sure as hell hope this place was worth everything I just did to myself—that wound will take at least another day and a half to heal and I’ll be starving the entire time!”
With a shrug he flung himself down the far side of the gate in a controlled skid all the way down to the bottom. Walking through the imposing castle gate the bizarre traveler gave the bridge mechanism a swift roundhouse kick to dislodge the bridge from its upright position. Shuffling onwards Constanz stood before a dry fountain and admired it. “Saint Michael whose name means ‘Who is like God?’ Shown here slaying Satan in the form of a dragon…quite the ancient depiction of him, isn’t it? This castle must be timeless as well.” He spoke aloud and to no one in particular. Shedding his pack next to the fountain and turning his back to it so he might rest for the time being. From his oversized backpack came a sharp, thin bone needle and thread as he began to sew himself closed once more.
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