The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Alqwerik: Ah, commercialism. I love this corrupt world. (Someone muttering): You always were a bastard. Alqwerik (otherwise ignoring whoever it was that made the comment): True. [I]The hunched man inside the iron gates looked at them for a long moment, before grumbling to himself in a voice pitched to low to hear. Alqwerik, fully amused by yet another cesspool of humanity, continues his rambling diatribe.[/I] Alqwerik: Of all the gods cursed misbegotten luck, we have to reach yet another haven of bigots, fools and yokels. Why have I been so blessed as to wallow in this crass pit of bad taste, worse food and reprehensible people? I think I'll take a walk. Again, or something along those lines. Fare thee well, my somewhat bemused companions. [I]His somewhat ironically delivered opinion aired, Alqwerik disappears in short order.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]What would we do without them.... Name: Lacroix Age: 532 Race: Vampire Town: Valandra Weapon: Bladed quarterstaff, katal for secondary. (Basically a gauntlet, leather, with three claws coming out of it, worn on the left hand) Dark Gifts: Eldritch Darkness: The ability to manipulate shadow, whether as illusion, or as a weapon. Soul Lance: Sucks life from non-sentient beings (anything except humans and vampyres in other words), and directs it as a blast of energy towards the target. Not environmentally friendly. Or user friendly, for that matter. Soul Charge: Fires Lacroix's auras with a burst of energy, increasing physical and mental prowess. Deccription: About six foot tall, most of his body is scarred. Weighs about 100 pounds, though his slenderness belies his strength. (Attachment) Melancholy as a matter of choice, clinically insane, introverted to the nth degree and a confirmed loner. Bio: Currently a scholar, Lacroix is also a trained minstrel, holding significant rank on the lyranthe. His maker died quite a while ago, so Lacroix wanders the world unfettered, rarely seeking companionship, unless it is in the form of a kill, or a challenge. Lacroix's mortal life has faded in obscurity, though he keeps track of his mortal family, often choosing his victims from their ranks. A strange habit, but one he has acquired a taste for.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Henry Oldrey- Skilled with a pistol and extremely fast, Henry has lived a blessed, long life. He still exists today, in the year 1857, and fights Dracula by conducting masses in the old church in the shdadow of the recently risen Mount DracAlucard. Name: Henry Oldrey Age: Ask EFK.... Appearance: Attachment Bio: Again, ask EFK. Weapons: He's picked up another pistol somewhere, so two Muskets. (Be proud Mr. Woo!), a broadsword and gothic style German platemail, about 13th century. Abilities: Elemental mastery, preternatural speed and eyesight.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Lacroix and Ryana dropped back slightly, covering their back trail. As they raked pine needles over their tracks, Asandir and Kinrade galloped back to meet them.[/I] Asandir: There is another bunch to the north. A much larger, nastier looking bunch. Lacroix: Nothing is ever easy. Fight or flight? Kinrade: They'll run right into the forest. Lacroix: Then we'll burn it down around them should the situation warrant it. Ryana: That should do a good job of flushing all the ferals out... Lacroix: Which is just what we need, I know. Can everybody leave off my pyromania, and or my aggressiveness, just once. Asandir: What happened to your vaunted sense of humour? Lacroix: Wait till those raiders get here. You'll see some real fun then.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Try Australia, you can't get anyone to tour here. It's impossible. I've only got Interzone Mantras so far, and about eight other songs from random albums. But you're right, the Tea Party are one of the most diverse bands I know. The first song I ever heard was Heaven Coming Down, the next was Winter Solstice. Confused the hell out of me for quite a while.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Then why the hell did you bother posting.... Genres are screwed these days.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Name: Lacroix Kincade Hero / Villian: Villian, apparently. Not allied with the Wareot, more like a chaotic loner. Age: 21 Race: Drider Weapon: Twin axes, bladed quarterstaff. Specialty spells: 1. Eldritch Darkness 2. Soul Lance 3. Soul harge Discription: (attachment) Stands about 8ft tall. Bio: Lacroix's main pursuit in life is a scholarly one. Albeitly one with more than a hint of risk. Lacroix spends his life investigating the habits and anatomy of exotic beasts, preferably dangerous. The more legendary, the better. As such, he has a lot of nasty scars. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]The Cure, technically, comes under a little known genre referred to as "shoegazer", a nasty sub genre of "gothic". A favourite of mine, actually. For more examples of this genre, check out Fallen Tears. Anyway, back to shoegazer. Shoegazer is tricky, mainly because it tends to be given that label to a depressive content. Which, quite obviously, doesn't work on too large a scale. So really, the Cure's definition depends on who you ask. There's a lot of debate in the music industry about whether shoegazer is actually a sub genre of gothic or not, given they are quite often radically different, but the debate normally dies or spins off when people realise they can't actually define goth anyway. So, call the Cure what you like, right now it's pretty damn open. You know, Semjaza, to be the pinncale of "hardcore goth", would probably require being dead.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Cloricus, you asked for a spar. That, travesty that you pulled out wasn't a spar. And I'll put any goddamn firearm you like up against a decent knife.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]The distinction between metal and darkwave often blurs a bit. Try Nightwish for example. It could be either, and it mainly depends on what song you're listening to, and what mood you're in. Technically, it's gothic, but I've known several metal fands (who despise gothicism as a whole, not just the music), to enjoy it. Any particular songs you'd recommend?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]This is the god damn last time I help some Ath-forsaken newbie get a little rpg experience....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Appreciated. Time then, to indulge in my time honoured specialty. Annoying irate lynch mobs! Not just in rpgs either... IC: [I]As Lacroix entered the taproom, the silence was broken only by the coarse breathing of the yokels below. And of course, the sound of burning torches, pitchforks being sharpened, and rope for a hanging being coiled. Lacroix sighed, so predictable.[/I] Lacroix: I hardly think it wise, the amount of wood in here considered, to wave those torches at me. [I]There was a moment's muttering, before a brave soul yelled out "Devil worshipper! You sold your soul to the devil so you could gain the evil ability to charm us all, and use us for foul demonic acts!". Lacroix blinked in surprise, than continued in his scathing tone.[/I] Lacroix: I assure you, had I wished to sacrafice you, you would all be dead by now. [I]This however, provoked anger rather than fear. A different loudmouth raised concern about families and innocent children. Lacroix paid it no heed, but his quarterstaff arced off his back in a brillant circle. The blades, intricately carved with delicate runes, seemed a testament of tigerish grace. As was Lacroix. With an acrobat's skill, he leapt high, flipped and spun all at once. The whirling quarterstaff formed a circular saw who's momentum could not be impeded by mere flesh, as the man chosen as Lacroix's target found out. When the spray of blood cleared, Lacroix was down on one knee, head downwards slightly. He was holding his quarterstaff along the line of his right arm, his left was tucked to his side. The blade on the rise side was soaked in blood. The corpse was just a mess. Slashed tendons snapped back into still moist flesh with whiplike cracks. Veins leaked their last, and fell limp. Muscle spasmed, the fibres unentwining. The gaping eyes, transfixed for now, gave mute testament to the futility of attacking this man. Lacroix rose, and stripped the blood of the blade of his staff with his thumb and forefinger. Absently, he flicked it at the bystanders.[/I] Lacroix: I hope we have learned a valuable lesson here. Aggravate me, and I will happily kill you. [I]Lacroix dug in under his cloak, and tossed a small belt pouch tot he innkeeper. Whistling a tune with a painfully sharp dissonance, he left the inn with a flourished, mocking bow. Despite the perfection of the physical setting, people would always be annoying. Lacroix, resigned, and not really unhappy, continued his solitary existance, not knowing or caring whether someone else waited at the end of the latest sojourn.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]It's up to you. Calico pistol. Slightly larger than your average Magnum Cougar, and more powerful. Also the only truly automatic pistol in the world. Has two modes, three shot burst, or spray. As for appearance, I have a better idea than description.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Seems a common question in rpgs I particpate in, but shall be asked anyway. If you want to develop storyline know, do you want Lacroix to enter the main plot, or can I have some more fun first? IC: [I]Lacroix was cruely jarred out of sweet reverie(It's late, don't ask) by a loud banging. He sighed again, and slid the bolt open. The landlord walked in, an apologetic look on his face.[/I] Landlord: I'm sorry, but things have taken a turn for the worse. Our local priest has got the popoulace up in arms, claiming your music is a gift from the devil. [I]A shocked moment of silence - musical, low laughter- a mocking bow. Lacroix straightens, and calmly walked down the stairs. He'd seen worse. Not neccessariyl stranger, but a lot worse.[/I] OOC: Intolerably short post, I am aware, however I would prefer my question be answered before I immerse myself in getting Lacroix maimed or whatever I currently feel like.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Not likely. A few of the more well-known "gothic" bands (and the term is used to loosely to signify) might come up around here, but nothing like that. Still, it's nice to see another hardcore goth on the boards. Ah well. What, in particular, style of goth is it? Shoegazer, industrial, psychadelic (bizarra mix of genres that doesn't really work), metal?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Have you had your hearing checked recently, or are you just listening to a rather select range of Tool songs? Soothing.... bizarre.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Wasn't it Hades, and fruit? Anyway... The vision seemed to blur, and trascend reality. As if it were more intense than the firestorm that ravaged his body. Pain seemed a memory, overstressed nerves shutting down. Coldly, he took stock of his situation, and attributed it to near death. He mastered damaged faculties and forced his eyes open, to look one last time at the woman standing below him. As Jesus died, he did so wishing his vision of Mary on the cross was uncanny reality, not deranged illusion... Sorry, had to do it.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Ah, why not. It'll fill a little more time. First Name Lacroix Bio: Part of the Rubber Bullet squad due to dangerous competence. Was basically conscripted. Description (simple): Tall, gothic. Melancholy, introverted. NO further comment on the matter. Weapon: Bladed quarterstaff. Attack: 4 Defense: 4 Jumping power: 4 Speed: 8 Special skill: Highly effective at martial arts and assassination.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Talk to Jesus Chicken. [I]Anything[/I] to do with Tool should immediately be directed to Jesus Chicken. He's fanatical about them to the nth degree.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Depeche Mode? Goth? Not in any universe that I've ever visited on [I]any[/I] drug-infused escapism journey. The Cure are great, even though I like them more for Close To Me than any gothicism about them. Mainly for me, its Gossamer, Fallen Tears, Nightwish (The quote in my sig is one of their's), and I'm starting on midnight Syndicate. Certain elements of the greatest band to ever exist (Th Tea Party for those who don't know me), are also considered goth, so I gues that would count. But yes, goth music is the best around.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]It would be somewhat useful. I changed over to "The Eldritch Harlequin" for some ungodly reason a while back, so I could live with that.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Hey! It was a different pic! This one was Raven's! I can't be held accountable if she actually puts one in. At least, I can maintain I can't be. Spar hmmmm. Far, far less interesting than my idea, but you're on. The thread will be waiting for you.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Alright Cloricus. My choice of terrain, your choice of time and weapons. Give it half an hour. Shall we wager on who'll still be standing? I'm serious here, this idea of yours sounds quite interesting, and I've got a few free weekends coming up. We could even charge admission and make a tidy profit. Even more icentive to win! Just imagine how many people, just from Downlands, would turn up to see us try and kill each other? (And join in...) Raven's banner involves a bunch of gradients, a lens flare and a lighting effect. And you're right, the font deserves to be banished to Sithaer.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Go right ahead [I]my love[/I]...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Alqwerik smoothed his features, reassserting self control. He half turned, tossing Uthwine a semi-ironic salute as he did so. Facing the others, he continued in a similar vein.[/I] Alqwerik: Well, now that I have been ever so skillfully reminded of my place in this particular order, why do I not leave this interminably pressing dilemma in your [I]assuredly[/I] compentant hands? Why, all the world knows not a more able group exists, when crisis doth come for tea. [I]Alqwerik turns, gives a deep mocking bow to Uthwine, and stalks several paces off, proceeding to pay very close, determined attention to a small wisp of cloud.[/font][/color][/I]