Malkav

that was...touching. Its hard to understand the male mind sometimes, although, when we love, we love hard.

Preferably I'd like one more sign-up(a hindi female if you're game) and we'll be ready to go. An underground thread will be opening. Please look at it Participants so far: Malkav as Yuri Kojiro Innocent as Jin Jung Progressive as Jun Tek Lee Neuvoxraiha as Shang Guan Liang I need only one more sign up, but will take two.

well, at least I have a few sign-ups. Um, Innocent, you don't start off with powers, but I promise down the line eventually you'll get the mind reading ability. Later on in the story the characters are gonna learn things called shintai's which give them powers to go back to the world with.

About a year ago, a friend of mine created a Fanfic about vicious(of cowboy bebop fame)'s adopted son that went on to be a very wacky, yet fun adventure where he added in people from myO as side characters, including Malkav(me). This inspired me to write a story on the side about myself to fulfill my ego as well as provide some insight into the backstory of my character. This paid off and eventually I created a 13 Episode saga all for me and what little entricacies I have an impulse to fill. So if you've made it this far into the introduction, please enjoy the story. Side Phase 1 Harlem Nocturne Some call me Lord, others call me Deus, but you may call me Malkav. Or Deus Ex Maccus, it doesn?t matter much anymore. Soon after I left Bingo to his own devices, Patches and I found ourselves on the next shuttle to the space colony, Harlem. We had a mission, well I had one, he was along for the ride. We had decided to travel incognito, I dying my hair black and sporting some very fashionable sunglasses, and he dawning priestly robes and letting his hair fall down around his elfish ears. Somewhere along the flight, Patches turned to me. ?My lord,? he began, I never told him to call me that, but I?m not in any position to stop him, ?where are we going?? ?Close your eyes, and listen.? I told him, I waited for the reaction to come across his face, after he heard the song. ?Who is that siren? Who sings such a lovely song?? ?The one we are looking for.? I told him coldly. ?And what of Bingo? Would he not be of more help than I?? he asked. I found the question to be quite the insult, ?And why not you?? ?Well, my lord, he has a better chance of survival than I. And this siren, do you simply expect us to?? Before he could finish, he found that his voice had gone. He looked at me bewildered, mouthing out my lord. ?If anything,? I began, ?he knows how to keep his fucking mouth shut. Now, we have a 30 hour flight ahead of us. Each second you will spend preparing. Do you understand me?? He mouthed something out again, but suddenly went catatonic. Deep within the recesses of his own mind, he would find what he needs to survive the days, months, perhaps even years, to come. I closed my eyes to wait out the last hours of the flight, through the recesses of my mind, it rushed back to me as plain as day. That laughing, that maniacal laughing in which made me suffer. Which drove me to madness, how it hurt her? I awoke, dazed and crazed with the flight. I looked at Patches, his soft eyes and melancholic face played across my mind, he reminded me so much of myself when I was young. So much so, that my mind even went as far as to show his face as mine had been oh so many millennia ago. Perhaps he felt my presence upon him in his state of catatonia. We arrived in Harlem late into the night. There, fresh from his state of catatonia, Patches acted as a mute. We were there to see an old friend of mine, Varros Dominus. Though, some might know him by his pen name, Phantomas, the true phantom of the opera. he has been hidden away beneath Notre Dame in Paris for thousands of years, keeping as neutral and invisible as possible, and has adopted quite well to information technology and possesses extremely powerful computer systems in a number of mysterious warehouses in Paris, as well as in secret tunnels below the City of Lights. Dedicated to one great purpose: the creation of a complete Encyclopaedia Vampirica, replete with all knowledge of the race of Kindred. One of his most important accomplishments to date is his Geneologica Vampirica. This computer database model is the most accurate in existence and not only gives lineage, but is rife with intimate biographies and life details of nearly every kindred known (and some unknown) to exist now or ever. His genealogical chart linking kindred by clan and sire was the most complete family tree ever done of the kindred. An obsessive seeker of knowledge, Phantomas is the ultimate hacker. And, knowing him, he has some information that would be of use to me. After the gate explosion, Phantomas moved his operations to this small satellite, and thus this is where I am determined to find him. I knew there could only be one place that nossie could be hiding, and that would be in the sewers. Patches and I descended into the dank quarters. Where our arrival was immediately met by organ music. ?Patches, he knows we?re here.? I said, as somewhat of a warning. He hissed quickly, ?Sire, I have taken upon something new.? I looked at him quizzically, this was not the time. ?What?s that?? ?I am now the Eater. I?ve discovered the secret to eating names.? ?Eating names?? I asked him, he had found his madness. ?Yes, I hunger for names. Let me devour this Phantomas?s and prove my insanity to you.? he said, licking and smacking his lips. For the rest of the time we were in the sewer, Patches the Eater found himself spouting out many names: John, Chris, Kenny, Greg, mmm yes Greg is tasty. I did not bother to ask, because this was his derangement now. He was the Malkavian: Patches the Eater. ?Why have you trespassed on my domain, Interlopers.? we heard a booming voice say above all else in the sewers, ?You are not welcome here Mekhet.? I continued walking, ignoring his attempt at trying to sound powerful. ?Mekhet, you are not welcome here.? came the voice over the organ again. I began to loose my temper and fall into something my children called, Malk Content. A state of mind that perhaps would be best left alone. A frenzy if it were. ?Phantomas,? I said, nonchalantly, ?where is she? Where is my Arikel?? No answer. ?Phan?Vassor, answer me now or my buddy here is going to eat your fucking name, and there ain?t shit you can do about it. And stop calling me Mekhet! You have no right!? I said, Patches? eyes grew wild with hunger. ?Yeah, this guy is fucking hungry. Look at his eyes.? ?Dumb ass I can?t see his fucking eyes, we?re in the god damn dark.? We went back and forth like that for about two more hours before his skinny ass finally showed up. ?What do you want?? he asked, his voice sounding defeated. ?You know what I?m here for, tell me all you know of Arikel.? I began. ?Blue water, blue sky.? he said to me, the words stung me, ?You know where I?m going with this do you not?? I pulled out my .454 and pointed it straight at his head, ?I need more information.? ?Or what? You?re going to shoot me. Very well thought out, Malkav, but all in all?? Before he could finish his sentence, Patches yelled out in the most surprising of manners, ?Phantomas!? and suddenly, the old phantom became as a pillar of salt. ?My god?? I said, looking from patches to the salt flowing to the ground, ?You really can eat names, can?t you?? Patches turned to me in the darkness, and suddenly said, ?Ishtar is with one of four people, sire: The first being Nissiku, the clever prince; the second being Elimelech, the twice damned; the third being Lamdiel, the angel; and the last being the Sphinx, the creature who presented the riddle of god and man onto Oepidus.? A single blood tear fell from my eyes. ?My?my children.? I said, quickly gaining my composure I motioned to Patches, ?You stole his mind and soul along with his name, didn?t you?? Patches? silence said enough. ?Who were they Sire?? he asked. ?The original Midnight Carnival. We must go, I have to find her. My Ishtar, no?My Arikel? We immediately left, bound for the ruins of Earth. Side Phase 2 Speak Softly Love ?Sire, although Varros had information on the big four (he had come to call them that), I?d like to know. Who are they? He only knew names and locations.? Patches asked me, we looked on from the shuttle to earth. Not in three hours had we spoken to one another, at least until Patches broke the silence. ?They are what I once was. That is all you need to know. I have to become as they are once more.? I said. ?Well why are we going to earth?? he asked, ?They?re actually spread across the system.? I cut my eyes to him, ?You mean to tell me that we?re going in the wrong direction?? ?Ah-yes, Sire.? he said, ?the nearest would be Elimelech, who resides in the near by colony of Maki.? I quickly, without warning, brought the back of my hand clean across his face, connecting hard with his cheek bone and dazing him. At the time, our only other option would have been to hijack the ship. I was against loosing my guise, but Patches had fucked us over. After dispatching of the pilots and the passengers (in such a way that it would be too gruesome to even attempt to explain in this short entry), Patches and I made a U-turn for Maki. Maki was a sordid little rock which lived for its nightlife. I knew that it had to be Elimelech?s hideaway, for the twice damned was quite the freak. After searching the area for little more than an hour, I came across a nightclub that held a peculiar name. ?Voice of Madness?, I had a feeling the Elimelech would be there. Patches and I stepped in right past the bouncer, who was too busy trying to keep two other punks out to notice a fellow and his young ward. Inside the club, was another affair though. ?What makes you think the twice damned would be here?? Patches asked, he and I had settled in at the base of a pole dancer who was making eyes at us. ?Because, my friend,? I said, winking at the dancer and smiling bitter sweetly, ?this is her kind of place.? ?HER?!? Patches yelled, loud enough to startle the stripper and make her fall face first off of her pole. I noticed that the bouncers began paying us attention. ?Quiet down will you? She will make herself known.? I said, knowing Elimelech. ?Yes, Sire. But I simply thought that she was?? he began before being cut off. ?A he? I believe she was once, though I?m honestly not sure anymore.? I laughed slightly. The dancer picked herself up and walked off of the stage, then, a booming voice filled the room. ?Ladies and gentlemen,? it began, ?This is what we?ve all been waiting for. Making her fourth appearance this week! I would like to introduce you all to Candy Cane! And for the right price, she?ll let anyone have a taste!? That?s when she appeared. From behind a velvet set of curtains, wearing a bathrobe and stilettos, came who I?ve been waiting for. Elimelech, the twice damned. ?Well, if this isn?t a surprise.? I said to Patches as I stared at her. ?She?s found her calling.? She strutted with ease down the isle, her walk showing millennia of experience. And in no time, she spotted me, sitting at the base of the stage. She rolled her eyes slightly and continued walking, until she came to the pole, there, she let the robe fall. ?Patches, listen carefully.? I said, my eyes never wavering from her, ?Start a fracas. I need to speak to Elimelech alone. We have business to take care of.? ?But sire, what am I supposed to do?? he asked, his eyes showing his confusion. I told him to come closer, and under the veil of our huddled bodies, I made a symbol with my hand. ?Throw this up, and yell: fuck the Crips.? I told him. He nodded. Telling him to wait for my signal, I began my march towards the dressing room entrance. When I got close enough, I signaled to Patches, and he obeyed, throwing up the signal. ?Fuck the Crips!? he yelled at the top of his lungs, then suddenly, the whole of the club descended upon him. The bouncer left the door to try and help break up the fight, that?s when I made my slip back stage. Elimelech was not hard to find, I knew simply to follow the smells of peppermint to find ?Candy Cane?. By the time I found her though, she had already shed the peppermint coating. ?Mi Deus.? she said when I walked into her room, ?Malkav.? We stared at each other for many moments, before she came running into my arms. She kissed me passionately all over my face. ?I love you so much.? she said, it had been eons since I heard that. I returned most of her love, most. But I knew, I couldn?t hold the charade for long. ?I have business here, Elimelech. I can?t stay for long.? I said, forcing her off of me. I took a long look into her face, somehow, it had dawned clown make up. Her most beautiful of faces, I couldn?t remember the last time I had gazed upon it. ?Where?s Arikel?? her eyes turned a bloody red. ?Oh,? she said, ?Is that what you?re here for?? ?Yes, beloved, I?? ?You have no right to call me that anymore, and to believe I called you Mi Deus.? ?I can call you whatever you want, beloved, but I have to find her. Something is wrong with her.? ?I haven?t seen her.? We stared at each other once again, she knew not where to find her. ?Then I bid you a farewell.? I said, turning to leave. ?Wait,? she said, ?I have something for you. Though you might not accept it.? I turned once again and faced her. She now had a sword in her hand, a katana of sorts sheathed. ?How is it that you can pull stuff out of the blue like that?? I asked. ?I learned from the best. But before I give this to you, I want you to tell me something.? she said, she moved closer to me, to the points where our faces nearly touched. ?Why am I called the twice damned?? she asked. I looked from her to the sword, ?Is this really necessary?? ?Why am I called the twice damned?? she asked again. ?Because, Elimelech,? I said, ?I damned you with our curse of insanity, and when you look into the broken mirror, you see a second reflection.? ?Bingo?? No sooner then she had said that, she unsheathed the sword and slashed me bare across the chest and I fell to the ground, I had never saw it coming. She then looked at me with pity in her eyes. ?1000, no, 100 years ago, could I have done that to you?? she asked. I held the wound and immediately started healing it. ?You bitch.? ?What, I?m right aren?t I? You?ve lost it, you?re not worthy of even the name Malkavian now.? I looked up at her, and with anger, I began forcing my will upon her. Forcing into her dementia. ?Malkav, that doesn?t work on me anymore.? she said, bringing the sword down on my back and puncturing my left lung. ?You?re weak now, my present to you is your demise.? She brought the sword up once more, but before she could bring it down, she felt something from me. I knew, because I had foreseen it, she had tampered with the wrong ancient. ?What?s this? What is this power coursing through my body?? she asked no one. I rose up, blood gushing from my wounds and creating a pool upon the floor. I saw only red, I knew only one thing. I wanted to hurt her, every inch of that body, but how? My mind wondered. ?You, it?s the true Malkav.? Elimelech said, looking at my crazed face. ?My dear?? I said, ?Give me my sword.? She did as told, as if she had no other choice at that moment. I took the blade and licked its surface which was coated in my blood, still warm. She backed back and looked as if she were about to run, but she couldn?t. Red sparks seemed to be holding her feet in place. I walked up to her and kissed the back of her neck and shoulders. ?Is this what you want?? I whispered in her ear, ?Well, is it?? ?Yes?this is the Malkav I want.? she said, blood tears welling up in her eyes. ?Just as I thought, prepare to learn the true meaning of Deus Ex Maccus.? I then, blacked out. I awoke on my knees on the floor. The scent of blood was fresh in the air and the uproar outside of the room had settled (I wonder how many names did Patches eat?). I looked around my shoulder and saw Elimelech on the floor, blood running down her legs and around her stomach. A trail of it led back to my blade. It did not take much to figure out what had happened. Then the images flooded back to me. I remembered it all in vivid detail. After kissing her neck, I had turned her around and pushed her against the vanity mirror, pulling her skirt up and revealing it to me. I remember looking from it to my sword, back to it again. Then I looked up at her face, and beyond, I saw behind her head into the mirror. I saw the raving mad man I had become, no, that I had become again. I took the sword and ran it softly against her cheek. She moaned to the sharp pain of it, and I laughed. Oh I laughed. ?Do it?? she said, holding her skirt in place. ?I love you.? I said, cutting her off. ?I love you too.? she said. We kissed each other once more as I took the sword and slowly lowered the tip of the blade towards her arroyo? I can still remember her screams as the blade cut cleanly in and out of it? But before she had passed out, she told me something, that to this day, I have remembered. ?The blood?, she said, ?remains on the blade?? I left the room quickly and found Patches, who was sitting in a corner by himself smiling, the room was empty. ?Let?s go, where are the other 3?? I asked him, his eyes cut to me and my new sword (now sheathed). ?The next one is in Tunisia, Nissiku the Clever Prince.? he said, standing up and moving towards the door with me. ?Sometimes Patches,? I said to him as we walked, ?I wonder why I hold back.? ?Sometimes, Sire.? he said, ?I ask myself the same question of you.? We left the mess of a club as it was, and boarded our flight to Tunisia.

[center][IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v103/myndara/ThousandHellsGraphic.jpg[/IMG][/center] Plot Synopsis So you've died. You've become another blip in the long history of earth, but something's wrong, you're not in the Pure Lands. Instead, you've found yourself in a strange place with others like you. If you can't go to the pure lands, then you don't want to be dead, besides, you're not done in the living world. You have unfinished business to take care of, maybe you want revenge against your murderer, to see you loved ones once again, or maybe you simply want to go back because you want to live again. Death is not fair, but you're given an option. You can achieve the second breath and return to Earth, but at what price? You must venture down into the Yomi world, into the threshold of The Thousand Hells, if you can fight your way out of there, then maybe you can return home, and finish what was started. Sign-Up Information Name: Character's name (preferably of asian descent, this does not disclude indian or persian descent) Age: How old he was before he died Cause of death: How'd s/he die Personality: How s/he acts(good paragraph) Appearance: Description or picture Weapon Of Choice: Your character's weapon Bio: Your character's life(good paragraph-at least) Sample of Character: A sample of your rping skills using your character(relied on heavily in sign-ups) If you want, you can reinact your character's death. But do not take this section lightly, if you skip it completely, I'll skip your signup ^_~. My Sign up [b]Name:[/b] Yuri Kojiro [b]Age:[/b] 24 [b]Cause of death:[/b] Shot down in a police stakeout [b]Personality:[/b] A very straightforward individual, Yuri's logical approach to situations may sometimes border the insane. If he sees a problem, he works to remove it. Although he's not all cold and calculating, Yuri's demeanor would say different. He's usually quiet, retaining speech until he's spoken to and rarely speaking more than needs to be said. His demeanor changes however, depending on what's at hand. Yuri's an excellent poker player and loves to smoke and drink with his partners, but if he has to, he will not hesitate to cut any of them down if they **** with him. [b]Appearance:[/b] Picture... [b]Weapon Of Choice:[/b] Katana [b]Bio:[/b] Yuri is the son of a KGB operative and Japanese double agent, given his parents backgrounds, he was raised to follow the family profession. His mother was an excellent marksman, and his father a master of japanese swordplay, with the combined training of these two, Yuri eventually was eventually not only able to kill, but able to kill efficiently. He soon became a key figure in the Red Mafiya and smuggled Soviet contraband across the world. His growing career was eventually stopped however when the UN stepped in and trapped he and his partners in a warehouse in Shanghai, rather than give up peacefully, he chose to fight his way out... [b]Sample of Character:[/b] Yuri sat behind the box quietly, with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Two, no three of his comrades were laying in front of him dead, and behind him, fifteen cops fired at his comrades who were still standing. Yuri only had his pistol with a near empty clip left at his side. [i]****,[/i] he thought, out manned, out gunned, and cornered. He looked down at his side, his father's Katana sat there. He unsheathed it and looked at his reflection in its steel. He then looked past the blade and saw a rope. Tracing the rope up to the top of the warehouse, he realized that it held up a large concrete slab, that was his chance. Yuri raised his Katana and brought it down upon the rope, releasing the slab and letting it fall to the floor below. He heard the sound of it cracking bone before it hit the ground. Yuri then raised and like lightning straffed to the side of the box he was hiding behind, cigarette still in his mouth and shot two more cops, he couldn't count, but he figured about 7 were left. His clip now empty, Yuri ducked behind another box before the hail of gunfire could rain down on him, he luckily also found himself closer to the exit. He heard two agonizing screams and realized, his last two comrades were dead, he was alone. At that moment Yuri remembered the story of the cornered rat, and what it does after being pushed into a corner... Yuri rose like lightning, sword in hand, and rushed to the nearest enemy...cutting him down, Yuri moved on to the next, and then the next, and then the next, he felt a pain in his arm, someone must have shot him, Yuri turned in the direction of the bullet and cut the man's arm off and then his head. Yuri then sheathed his katana and looked around the warehouse, he was the last one standing. Feeling quite satisfied, Yuri turned to light another cigarette, as he did so he heard a loud sound and sharp pain go down his back, then he saw darkness...

As far as powers go in my rpg, I kinda want to have the characters learn new things along the way from the npc's, but I don't know how that will translate into the chapter system without people posting when the feel or what not. I have a strict storyline I want to follow, but I have a problem with finding a way to execute it within the rpg. Oh yea, I'm harlem nocturne.

Gehenna Episode 1: The Walkers Rated: M-VLS She came to me one night, through my bedroom window veiled in nothing but the moonlight. Her skin was porcelain white and her eyes glowed their pale blue, the color of the moon. As beautiful as she was, however, my eyes were affixiated on the two wings which protruded from her back. I was not scared, however, only more drawn to this creature which stood before me. She was not human, I knew, but I found myself attracted to this creature like non before her. As she moved closer to my bed, I felt the serpent within me slowly rising, and becoming stiff as she began to float atop me, suspended in the air by supernatural forces which I know nothing of. How I desired her, and how my serpent was ready to release its venom for her. I reached out and touched her, her skin was warm, and it vibrated slightly to my touch, as if a ripple within the waters. Was she real? She couldn't be, perhaps this angel, devil, or beast was mearly a figment of my imagination, but the thought made me want her no less. I removed the covers from myself, revealing the serpent which stood at attention waiting for this one. I then grabbed her and pulled her towards me, and as her face grew closer to mine, I kissed it, everywhere I kissed it. I pulled this creature down to my bed and commited every sinful and lecherous act I could think of to her. She did nothing to stop me, and that night I allowed my emotions to get the better of me and I ravaged the creature in the most ungodly of ways until she was covered all over with my serpent's venom. All night, she was mine and all night I sinned with her, and that morning I awoke, feeling different. The world I saw through new eyes, things moved that didn't, paintings and statues looked back at me when I looked at them, everything had a soul, everything had a face. I was something new, not a human, but something else. Though I've never grown wings like her, or anything of the sort, I knew that something was different. I stopped aging, I stopped eating, my only purpose was to find her again, to find her and once again take her for myself. But she never was to return to me, and eventually, I gave up my search. My halls are decorated with her, and corridors reek of her stench, she is always in the corner of my eyes. I had grown to find out what I was, and seeked out more like me, they were found, and I then knew, Varros the man was dead, but Varros the Walker lived on. One thought however remained with me, and shall always remain with me,"Die in my arms..." the only words to ever escape her mouth when she was with me... -Varros Dominus, Keeper of the Chapel Souls Makes little sense, huh? Well, I can't explain it. The walkers can't be explained, only dealt with. They are the supernatural, not restricted to classing by type, species, or name. They are everything, and at the same time they are nothing. Vampires, werewolves, succubae, incubi, angels, devils. They walk among us, doing as they please where ever they please. They remain relatively secluded only because they are few in numbers. Immortal and not bound by human laws or limitations, they are the balance and they shall decide the fate of this world... The Story: And I saw him return from the land of Nod, the first. His eyes were pitch black and his body was the sun, he had 536 wings upon him and his likeness fell over the Horizon. The Ankou. He blacked the sun out and all who stood against him met their swift ends, he left me alive to be the messenger of his return. I was commisioned along with others to spread word of his coming back, and to let all know he had come back to claim his blood. His orders were convert or kill, whichever was necessary... -Amadeo, Prophet of Gehenna The year is 2400, Earth is nothing more than a desolate graveyard, left ravaged after it was hit by an unsuspecting meteor. Luckily, humanity had moved on by the time it hit, and already began colonizing space, with many orbiting satellites and moon colonies, humanity and earth lives on stretched across the galaxy. Now, seeing as the first has returned, the walkers have been slowly disappearing or dying out. Many know what must be done to prevent the end of all worlds, but few do anything about it. Those few walkers who stand against the Ankou and his ever growing regime, find themselves as but dust scattered in the wind. The Ankou must be stopped, however, lest he risks throwing off the "balance" and destroying the human race as we know it. The story is pretty linear, this time around, but as we go into the other episodes, I promise it'll broaden out. Sign-up Name: character's name Age: character's age Appearence: character's appearence Weapon of Choice: Like above, self explanatory Powers: I'm going to let you get creative with this... don't go too over the top. You can be vampyrish, were-wolfish, anything you want to base your character off of or just be a powerhouse Personality: How your character acts Allegiance: Does he serve the Ankou or does he not. Sample of Character: A short story to allow me a taste of your rping and storytelling skills. That's it for now, sign-ups will be up until Saturday, March 5th. And please, show some character.

Um, I'm closing sign-ups for this rpg and will come back with another more "fan friendly" rpg, look for me in the future!! -Deus Ex Maccus

Um, I was thinking about reopening these signups for this, but I have a few things to say. Elvenn'and... please use a little more structure when signing up, and Sky, you suck. How the ***** are you gonna be a warrior from the future in this rpg, that's ******** stupid, you're ******** stupid. You've obviosly skipped to the signups and made some bullh*t up, get away, don't sign up for my stuff anymore, find an rpg with magical dragons knights and dwarves and frodo, you belong there, not here. I'm not being stuck up, but you're an idiot, and idiots don't belong here, thankyou for reading -Deus Ex Maccus

Look at my sig, that's my first Sig EVER that I made like 10 minutes ago, someone said it was that good but I want a broader opinion. Actually, it was my first project on my new Photoshop program.

Hope I can still join!! Name: Kojiro Sasaki Age: 17 Sex: Male Values: Faith and Justice Earth Appearence: [IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v103/myndara/ildon.png[/IMG] Angel Appearence: [IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v103/myndara/Ildon.jpg[/IMG] Weapon: A sword called the Asura, it holds on its blade the rune inscriptions of faith and justice and has a deep crimson glow to it, its hilt is simple and the sword itself resembles a rapier somewhat.

thanks for signing up, I want to wait a little while longer to see if there will be anymore takers. I've read some of your stuff already and I like what I'm seeing.

Project Mynd In the year 2199 AD, Karl Marx's worker's revolution has become a horrid reality and the very existence of man has been put in the hands of wealthy businessmen. With this in mind, the world has become a rigidly classed society ruled by these men's corporations and countries are now known as foundations. Around 2100, a new source of free flowing energy was found, it was dubbed Mako. One corporation which has domain over what once was Japan, called the Masamune Corporation had began work on a program it calls Project: Mynd. Project Mynd's intentions was to develop a new bioweapon using Mako to destroy all those opposed to the Masamune Corporation's grand scheme. My sorta vision of the world... I want this to be a pseudo-futuristic fantasy world complete with many bio-engineered monsters and such, it doesn't sound like much, but I'm horrible at interpreting my emotions. The Story You are one of the bioweapon's created by the Masamune Corporation. You were once human, but were captured by corporation scientists to be experimented upon and turned into one of these bioweapons. But you are not happy that your life was taken away from you, so you escaped from the battlefield in order to plot your revenge against the corporation. You meet up with several other freedom fighters who also share your vision of bringing the corporation down... and that's where this story begins. (I'm using James's chapter system, so I don't want to give away too much information.) Powers Because you're a bioweapon, although humanoid, you were given some kind of power from your creators. This can be anything your mind can think of, although I'll step in during sign-ups to tell you if its over the top. Sign-up Character Name: Your character's real name before he was abducted and turned int Code name: The name your character was given after he was experimented on Appearence: Picture or description Abilities: Abilities and powers your character has. Personality: How your character acts. Bio: Whats your character's story before getting captured (i'll be paying close attention to this) That's it, PLEASE SIGN-UP you won't regret it.

My favorite final fantasy characters happen to be Kefka, Kuja, and Vincent. Kefka was the insane clown who's temper was just delightful to watch. he put all of his ho's in place and wasn't a momma's boy (sephiroth). Then there was Vincent, without much effort his storyline actually overshadowed many others in its depth and sense of immortal pain and sin which would never heal, NEVER. He showed that he was to forever be tormented, no matter how hard he would repent and how much he would ask for death and release from his burden. Beat that. Then there was Kuja who was the spitting image of duality. Man and Woman, Angel and Devil, Good and Evil. He was perhaps the most complex character squaresoft ever took the time to make, if you got past his cross dressing, you'd see that he obsessed with individuality. He downright refused to be stereotyped and became not the villain of FF9, but in a way, the Anti-Hero by refusing to give in to anyone and except the bastard fate given to him. Sephiroth is overated.

Its set in the time of ancient Babylon and Mesopotamia. So that's some 8,000 to 10,000 years ago. Thats the first act, this game is gonna spand millennia, from then to now almost. So there will be few cities, and the land of Nod. Sorry for being vague again

The daughter is a sexy character. But I was wondering about this whole leader of the den of snakes thing. When I do rp with her, that means she wont be able to go anywhere on her own (what crime boss does that?). So when I do rp, will I have to implement multiple character ideas and feelings or am I supposed to make a bunch of one dimensional side items who just stand around while the daughter works?

I've just posted the first Act for my RPG, Devil Saga sign-up, and I really need fan input. (skip to the end if you wanna know my problem) For those select few who actually have read through the EXTREMELY long setup story, you'll see that it doesn't tell at all what any of those events have to do with the characters, maybe I should add more info on the character's roles in the story. For starters, there are going to be 3 main factions in this story, Molochites, Nergalites, and the Children of the Third, but I want to assign characters based on their character concepts rather than on their personal choices, so you see I am going to be very much in control of this particular rpg. Am I asking for too much but giving too little to work with? That's really my question.

Devil Saga: Act 1: Daimoinon By Malkav Past fields of poppies burning bright, into towers of blackened bone. Follow me, Bastard of Caine, come with me, I have no home~Book of Nod Devil Saga is the first and last RPG by Malkav, and I have every intention of bringing it to Epic proportions with the 3 Acts: Daimoinon, Chaos Factor, and The Midnight Carnival. But I hope to take another approach with this rpg. As we all know, the angel and demon storylines have been all but played out here on otaku boards, so I'm going to be implementing a few new things for character creations (as seen below in sign-up). The Story There was a time before it all, when heaven's hosts were still one and humanity was but a lump of unformed clay. It was then the Lord -- or Allah, or El, or Yahweh, or whatever else you wish to call "It" -- proclaimed "Let there be light," and there was. The darkness had spawned its own children, however, and they suffered terribly beneath the brand of the inquisitor God. In those ancient days, the sky was ablaze with his wrath. His luminance scoured the world like Greek fire and struck the foundations of existence like a battering ram. The Children, the offspring of the Night, ell from their heavenly moorings and plummeted to the ground like falling stars wreathed in flame. Most of the Children were blackened husks by the time they struck the earth, but some few survived long enough to seek refuge. As the Children's fall had split the earth, great chasms opened to lightless depths. The survivors of the Fall crawled into the fractured ground. There slumber overtook them, and they allowed time to seal them in their dirt wombs. Humanity, formed to satisfy the narcissist God, never knew of the hallowed ground they trod upon. Ignorantly, they built cities over the graves of the Children, all unknowing of the power that had attracted them to these places. Like flies drawn to the sweet aroma of decay, they raised their temples and altars to the heavens, even as they were moved by the dark dreams of what lay buried beneath their monuments. A band of mortals we call the first tribe were the first living creatures to come across one of the night's offspring. While digging a well just outside the fledgling city of Ahsur, the first tribe uncovered one of the Children. It writhed and screamed beneath God's eye, the sun, and cursed His name. Each of the beast's words carried power and the ground shook when the dying sleeper called out its true name. The beast could not save itself with words, however. Its flesh bubbled like wax and melted away, revealing bone, muscle and burning flesh. It called out to its brethren, crying for rescue and for succor, but its cries went unattended. The Child perished within a few minutes, its flesh climbing to the skies as poisoned smoke. This brief revelation, however, was enough to change the first tribe forever. The Child's words carried with them seeds of darkness that infected those responsible for uncovering the dread beast. The first tribe had heard the names of the other Children when the first one had cried out, and touched by the power in those names, could now hear their murmurs through the wind. The dark sleepers whispered to them through the moans of the dying as the first tribe learned to murder, and sang of untold power in the screams of those they raped and killed. In turn, the first tribe saw the power the dead Children possessed and coveted these gifts for themselves. They sought out the chthonic sleepers, whispered to them while they slumbered and prostituted their souls to them. In exchange for sponsorship from the Children, the first tribe became their acolytes. The mortals accepted the burden of remembering their master's existence when They vanquished them from mortal memory. The first tribe accepted the bargain in bad faith, however, believing that by knowing the true names of these malignant creatures they would have true power over them. Such is the ignorance of primitive people. Knowing something's true name gives it sway over you as well. Power is never free for the taking, or for the giving. You may have noticed that I am vague with the terms I use, that I neither name the first tribe nor its patrons. Such omission is deliberate. Certain names have the power to echo across worlds when intoned, and there are always things listening for those names to be spoken. Even knowing these names is akin to catching a disease, a kind of leprous affliction that atrophies the soul. Speaking those names spreads the contagion. The first tribe grew strong in flesh, but withered in spirit as they passed this ailment on to their children and grandchildren. Worse yet, by playing with these cursed names, the first tribe made the Children more aware of the world outside of their dreams. The only thing that tethered the Children to reality was their names, and each time a name was called, that tether pulled a Child closer to wakefulness. Eventually, the first tribe realized that their servitude was worthless. Because of their actions, soon the ancient masters would awaken and stride the world like colossi. Plagues would spread in the wake of each titanic step, and the tribe's service would not protect them from death and darkness. Belatedly, the acolytes of the Children did the only thing they could: They hid the accursed names within their thoughts, never daring to speak them, to breathe power into them, to tempt the Children closer to consciousness. This act served its purpose barely; deprived of a steady stream of sustenance, the Children remained teetering on border between dream and waking. Fortunately, the sleepers did not know they still slept; they lived in their dreams, ruling a shadow world that existed only in their fevered imaginations. But to keep the Children trapped in these fever dreams took power, as much power as had been wasted over the centuries in calling the Children closer to wakefulness. To keep the Children asleep, the first tribe tortured their brethren, raped their own children, mutilated themselves, devoured the weak in cannibalistic orgies and wallowed in filth and degradation. Sacrificing what shreds of morality remained in them, they filled the dreams of these monsters with the sounds of anguish and misery, keeping them asleep with a murderer's lullaby. As long as there was sufficient rapine in the monsters' dream-worlds, they would not stir to seek it elsewhere. The true names of these creatures still carries power, however, and the first tribe was not stupid enough to turn their backs on this magic completely. Human acolytes formed cults around various entities and learned to dilute the names of the Children. Taking the root of the name and changing it, or masking it behind foreign mortal languages enabled a sufficiently cunning priest to draw upon a fraction of the sleeping entity's might without rousing it. The power thus gained was also proportionally less than it might have been, but the risk was also proportionally lessened, and for these priests that was good enough. It is ironic that the creatures you know now as demons were once revered as Mesopotamian deities -- who were in turn distilled from muddled representations of the sleeping, demoniac Children. You may sleep well knowing that the names assigned the Children these days hold little power -- Centuries and generations of conquering languages have diluted their strength to almost nothing. Occasionally, however, some fool stumbles across a correct string of letters and intones it well enough to capture...unwanted attention. The Children slumber fitfully yet, and their dreams are less pleasing to them than once they were. Wells of Sacrifice The first tribe, under the guise of various mystery cults, served the faceless entities for many generations. They played a careful game of taking power without compromising their survival. As other tribes waxed powerful, members of the first tribe came to them as priests and holy women, bringing with them learning, rites and rituals. They also brought with them the worship and abuse of the power of the Children, but masked it well, so that the entire cities turned their strength to serving the Children without knowing that they were doing so. The strongest cult dwelt in the city of Ashur, tending to the now-hidden well and protecting the remains of the first Child uncovered generations earlier. The well was a marvel and a terror to the people of Ashur, but they never wavered in their reverence. Over centuries, the cult of Ashur made constant sacrifice into the great well. When Ashur made war on other cities, they scarified prisoners and slaves; when Ashur was at peace, they stole livestock and children with which to make offering. Victims were eviscerated and their blood collected in stone jars; organs were carefully removed, read for augury and tossed in the well to rest on top of previous victims' corpses. When no augury was needed, cultists tore sacrifices limb from limb with their hands and teeth, then threw the broken bodies into the well. Come nightfall, the collected blood would be poured over the still-warm corpses, brewing a draught of corruption and rotting flesh in which great swarms of flies buzzed and bred. This ritual of murder and dismemberment, however, could not go unnoticed forever. Other powers of death walked the world even in those days, and knew what reverence was done unto them. Is it any surprise, then, that a Cainite of great power and majesty found the well one night? The priests of the first tribe raised their voices against him, using even the forbidden incantations, but they were as wheat before the storm. The power of his voice struck the priests dumb and silenced their cries; his gaze struck down the weak-minded and feeble. Those who were strong in body but not in mind he ripped limb from limb, then tossed aside as long shreds of flesh. Those who were strong of mind but not of body, he commanded to rend their own bodies with long knives, and they did so. Those who were comely he forced to couple, then he melted the flesh of their bodies and their bones together. He drew forth their ribs so that each thrust was an impalement, and watched as they died. For the Cainite had witnessed their rites, and found them wanting. He had seen their rituals, and wished to show them that their depravities and atrocities were as nothing, that they were children playing at evil. And lest none remained to learn his lesson, he tossed the bodies of his playthings into their own pit, and let flow his own vitae into the well. Three mortals survived to lap up the blood that he gave unto them; only three, from the hundreds who had worshipped at the well. The following evening, these three victims clawed their way out of the organ pit. They were filthy with gore, caked in blood and howling with unquenched fury and madness. Their creator had abandoned them; their patrons had deserted them. They were mad and hateful and thirsty for death. The Baali had been born. How to Sign Up In this game, I want to approach sign-ups very uniquely, but let me first explain how the characters are to work out. For Starters, I want the most devious or righteous people you can think up. ALL of the participants are demon worshippers and infernalists, meaning they're all evil but remember, evil is always flexible. And they all belong to clan Baali Real Name: Does not need to have an actual name but if you want anything as an alias, do give it to your character. Name they go by now: A name they use in these modern times, although the first episode will really only use their real names. Appearance: Tell how your character looks or use a picture Abilities: You can choose to be either a demon sorceror(someone who uses magic to bind or summon demons to help them) or someone who has Demonic investments (bound a demon to yourself so in battle you can get some of its abilities). Be creative with this, like explaining what demons your guy can summon or what demonic investments you've chosen. Bio: Give a brief description of your character's past. Please don't be overly long and drawn out about it, but do be creative. Personality: Tell what your character is like Sample of Character: Tell a small story that explains your character so that I can get an idea of your storytelling abilities. The Chapter Sytem(Created by James, please read before the rping begins) >font face=verdana>Most RPGs unfold in what is essentially a "free" format. By this I mean that any participant can post at any time and the story unfolds dynamically. But there are a couple of problems with this existing system, in my opinion. Firstly (and depending on the number of participants involved), it can become confusing. As the number of pages increases, an RPG may sometimes branch out into multiple settings and situations, where a variety of different characters are involved. If there are lots of participants, it can be difficult to "ground yourself" and identify exactly what's going on at all times. Another problem is that this style of dynamic storytelling often ensures that RPGs do not feature a definable "beginning", "middle" and "end". So, generally speaking, an RPG will simply continue to unravel until people are tired of it, or it gets too confusing for people to continue posting. Another problem with the existing format is that quite often, people post quite frantically during the first week or so -- it's not uncommon to see each participant writing a post every day or two for the first week. But after this "honeymoon period", an RPG may become stagnant and difficult to push forward. In some cases, characters might also be "stuck" at one location/setting for a long time, which further contributes to boredom on the part of the participants. When considering these issues, I wanted to develop a kind of RPG structure that would be resistant to confusion, over-population (no matter how many participants are involved) and stagnation. I call this approach "The Chapter System". The Chapter System works very similarly to the progression that you might see in a movie. That is, while you may have thirty characters in one movie for example, not every character will be on screen at once. Some scenes will revolve around only a small group of characters (or even just an individual one). So, with this in mind, Devil Saga is broken down into chapters. Each chapter revolves around a certain number of specific characters. One benefit to this system is that all participants are not required to post all the time, which helps to prevent them from wearing out in the early stages. Another benefit is that chapters are finite; they have a beginning and an end. This means that the participants' interest is constantly maintained, because settings and situations are always changing. There are several other benefits to the Chapter System. Each chapter begins with a quick summary or synopsis. The intent is to create a very basic situation -- to give those involved in the chapter a very basic starting point. The summary/synopsis may also indicate the point at which the chapter should end. So, to give you a quick example, Chapter 1 might say "Character A must kill Character B" and it may provide a location/setting. Both participants know what must happen -- they know how the chapter needs to end. However, this does not limit their own creativity. They can decide exactly how to reach that goal. The twofold goal is simple; provide some level of context and grounding, so as to avoid confusion, and allow for the contents of the chapter to unfold in a dynamic way (as with a regular RPG), within those basic guidelines. This ensures that the chapter remains "in context" and correct, but that participants also have the opportunity to be very flexible in what they write. An added benefit is that participants are essentially given a writing challenge -- they're given some basic guidelines that they have to work within, while still writing something inventive and fun to read. I believe that the Chapter System is the single most important part of Devil Saga. I'm only picking 13 sign-ups to participate in this rpg this time around. (I'll add more with each additional episode hoepfully). I won't be impressed by the length of your sign ups, but simply by the ideas your characters give to me and if they fit into my idea for the Devil Saga. I honestly hope you guys have fun with it and it all works out for the best. Well, that's really about it, so I'll see how you guys choose to sign up. Later -Malkav

I won't be able to join after all (comp troubles). Sorry for the inconenience, maybe I'll be in the next one.

I'll just be playing with Rajiv, because I didn't want two characters, it was just an editing mistake.

Didn't try to add two characters, but I'll play both of them if you want me to, as long as I can keep them together half the time it'll be alright. It was actually an editing mistake, but thanks for letting me keep them, I guess. -Malkav

About Her "A man once called me a crazy *****, I thanked him by showing him just how right he was..." "Do you think I look like a *****?" "Doubt this sword of mine has ever seen the light of day for more than a second at a time." "I think I fell in love with her innocence, because before her, I didn't think it existed in this world."The DaughterSnow fell silently on the rooftop as they faced each other. Silently, they stared forward, watching, tormenting, waiting for the other to make a faulty step or movement. Through the haze of her chilled breath, Kyoko saw her enemy, a man who made a challenge for her power. He was already battle scarred as he had tried to slay her many times this night, only to be met with the cold taste of steel to the flesh. Snow fell in his open wounds and burned them, but he ignored them, because he knew that some way some how, this little ***** was going to use that to her advantage. Kyoko saw all of this in his eyes, all of this anger and fear she had filled him with, it made her smile to see that he was so bent on her destruction. Her smile would tear through his heart, she thought, her smile would hurt him. She then took her stance and waited; like a cornered rat, he launched forward towards her. Her sword was still sheathed as he ran... A strike of white lightning, and his head tumbled to the ground from his still moving body. The snow stained red as Kyoko sheathed her sword once more, she then turned and looked at her kill. His body still fidgeted and the eyes in his severed head still turned from side to side. What a horrible way to die, she thought as she left the rooftop, leaving him where he lay.Appearance: Kyoko is a well figured and slightly muscular young girl with long hair (she allowed it to grow out after her last appearance in the saga) and a beautiful face. 5'6, She is usually seen wearing a trenchcoat over a suit as she has dictated to the den of snakes a new dress code, the trenchcoat hiding her katana underneath. She sometimes dyes her hair, and can now be seen as a blonde with green eyes (contacts) that are said to hide her dormant insanity. Sometimes she lets go and wears some of the same stuff as other girls her age, but she's careful and this is a rare occurence. She is a very attractive young lady who rarely smiles.Weapon of Choice: Kyoko uses a katana which she named Hebi-Seppun or Serpent's Kiss, it was forged for her by an obscure weaponsmith that her father knew from way back and was given to her not too long ago, before her father died. Because of her first fighting style, Iai Jutsu, only a few people have actually seen her blade. Some say that it is red, stained with blood from the many lives it took, others say that it carries with it the poisons of the creature it's named after, and its "kiss" will kill a man even if the blow delivered is not fatal, and still more say that a blade is not within her sheath at all, but a bolt of lightning which will strike down all who come near it. These rumors please Kyoko, as they teach people to fear and respect her. Kyoko also carries two small knives that she keeps usually on a mechanism hidden within the sleeves of her trenchcoat. She only uses them as alternatives to the wakizashi that traditional samurai wear, because she feels the wakizashi's a clumbersome item that's not necessarily useful. She also knows a form of unarmed combat, Sosuishi-ryu Jujutsu, which she uses to fight while her sword is sheathed to not feel so helpless when waiting for her opponent's mistake .

Name : Kojiro Yagyu Age : 22 Gender : Male Group : Lord Todomaki's Rank in group : Doesn't care too much for group politics, just someone who searches for the sword under the orders of the greedy lord. Well liked by those around Todomaki's stronghold. Fighting style : Kojiro Sekka Iai Jutsu Weapons : Sheath- Yagyu uses his sheath as a weapon as well as the blade itself, a small staple of the Iai Jutsu; Sakura~kisu-Not many people have seen Kojiro's Katana, sakura~kisu, and lived to tell of it; Wakizashi- a small sword Kojiro keeps; Iron Clogs-Iron shoes that Kojiro wears, if all else fails, he'll kick them off at the opponent as a weapon; Abilities : Quick Draw- Kojiro can draw and sheath his sword faster than the human eye can see. Flash- Kojiro can draw his sword quickly and flash sunlight into his opponent's eyes, blinding them Mist- Kojiro can summon mist around his opponent and make it hard for them to see when he will draw his blade. Description : A 6'0 slender man with a beautiful face and eyes. Long hair is tied up in the back and usually wears lightweight clothes that supplement movement as well as a few padded armor plates on his arms legs and torso. Has a scar on his chest which came from a former duel which almost took his life. Personality: A Complicated man. Battle hardened, he usually devotes alot of his attentions to improving his Iai Jutsu style. He is also somewhat cocky, and he loves to make a fool of his opponent in battle before killing them simply out the fact that he can. He doesn't take losing too well, and has a short temper. Outside of battle, he is friendly and some people call him a chauvanist, as he loves to fool around with his lord's many concubines and such around. He won't battle if he doesn't have to and he has a code of honor that applies vaguely to everything he does. Bio : Yagyu was born to a well known samurai warrior in the service of the lord. His father, Kojiro Sekka was made famous by his use of the Iai Jutsu style of swordplay and Yagyu aspired to be like him, but Yagyu's temper, layed back attitude, cockyness kept him from furthering his training with his father. One night, his father called him a disgrace to the Kojiro name and refused to teach him anymore. Yagyu was crushed by his father's accusations and ran away from home for the next 4 years. When he returned, his father was on his deathbed and Yagyu rushed to his side. His father had told him to go back to their old home and look under the floor board. Yagyu obeyed and found a katana under there. His father's last gift to him. After receiving this, Yagyu commenced to training himself. He started small by cutting in flight birds out of the air, and then he began dueling others in the court to improve his technique. He now is a well respected member and is in service to the same lord as his father way. Kojiro hopes to be everything his father was and more, although his setbacks are still strong within him. He's now helping his lord search for the Izayuai.

I was hoping to add another kind of character into the mix, if not allowed, I'l make another later on. I wanted to add a sort of eastern guy to it, like those guys with the elephants from the lord of the rings. Name:Rajiv a Namtara Age: 19 Gender: Male Occupation: Thief, Scoundrel Weapons: A curved blade which he uses in most of his former jobs to seal a kill, two bone spikes, a bottle of eastern firewater Personality: A quiet man who speaks when spoken to or otherwise, depending on the situation. Has a twisted sense of personal justice and follows a stict code of honor which he made himself after becoming an assassin. Appearance: Long dark hair and eyes, with both ears and lip pierced with golden rings. Has ritualistic tatoos over his skin and has dark brown eyes and tanned skin. History:Rajiv was born a slave in a far off eastern land where he toiled until he was 13, then he ran away. He ran until he found himself in this land and at the age of 15 joined a band of thieves, he has now taken a small absence from these thieves to seek his own fortune in the world. I'll send the rp in about 16-21 hours, hope he can do it. I was somewhat in a hurry, I might make a few changes to this later. Alright, thanks.

I was hoping to add another kind of character into the mix, if not allowed, I'l make another later on. I wanted to add a sort of eastern guy to it, like those guys with the elephants from the lord of the rings. Name:Hassan al~Faqadi Age: 23 Gender: Male Occupation: Former assasin from the east(if you won't allow it, then tell me), then mercenary, now unemployed Weapons: A curved blade which he uses in most of his former jobs to seal a kill, two throwing stars, a bottle of eastern firewater Personality: A quiet man who speaks when spoken to or otherwise, depending on the situation. Has a twisted sense of personal justice and follows a stict code of honor which he made himself after becoming an assassin. Appearance: Dark hair and eyes, with both ears and lip pierced with golden rings. Has ritualistic tatoos over his skin and has dark brown eyes and tanned skin. History:Hassan was sold into slavery at the age of 9 and escaped to the west at the age of 12 where he was attacked by some bandits. He killed them, and was discovered by a man who helped him hone his skills and eventually he became an assassin for hire, he then left that life for personal reasons and became a mercenary, but he also left that life. He now wanders the western lands doing odd jobs for money. I'll send the rp in about 16-21 hours, hope he can do it. I was somewhat in a hurry, I might make a few changes to this later. Alright, thanks. -Malkav