Forums » General Roleplay » Modern Fantasy [Open] Please read intro first.

Howdy!

This thread is open to whoever wants to join it. For simplicity's sake, the setting is Gotham City, but worry not, you don't have to know anything about it. I use Gotham because most people can picture it in their head and the city is already acquainted with 'weird', so fantasy characters aren't a stretch!

Tips for playing:

• Original Characters are totally fine! We don't expect to see much if any canon characters in this session. Like I said above, Gotham just makes a good modern fantasy setting.
  
• If your character has cat ears and a tail, or something of that nature, hide them! This is the kind of setting where non-humans blatantly walking around in public would attract attention. Just add a splash of cartoon logic to make them seem human at a glance. Put a hoody on your wolf anthro, for example.
  
• Please don't enter the scene full of arrows or faint in the middle of the floor for attention. It's okay if you asked first, but if you didn't ask and expect everyone to drop what they're doing and attend to your OC, that's not really fair to the other players.
  
• I'm looking for folks who can match my level of skill, who are interested in firing posts back and forth today. Para Rp preferred, about six to eight sentences or more per post.
  
• This will be a non-committal, low pressure Rp. It's a good way to meet new players and see if you click with someone!
  
• Turns will be casual. If you take too long to post or it makes sense to skip you, you will be skipped! It's nothing personal, we're just trying to keep the blood flowing for a healthier Rp.
  
• No fourth wall breaking.
  
• Third person preferred.
  
• If you didn't read this intro, I can't help you.
  

Alf was trash digging. He wasn't proud of it. He had tried people watching. That hadn't worked out. He learned things- but they turned out to be all the wrong things, if he could understand at all.
So he was taking his business elsewhere, so to speak.

It had started that way. That was an hour ago. It took sixty minutes for him to de-evolve from a master detective to a hypothetical red haired mermaid with a hoarding problem. His pocket was full of drawer clutter he was never gonna use.

He emerged from a near empty dumpster with a back pack in tow. It jingled.
His feet were a wreck; so was the rest of him. He was still done up head to toe in bandages and lashes that did not need to be thumbing around in the trash. He had stayed cleaner than would be expected of someone rifling through garbage, but his sense of smell was many times better than the average joe, and from his perspective he was getting a little ripe. It wasn't about whether or not anyone else had to smell him, it was about whether HE had to smell HIMSELF.

Alf crawled over the dumper rim and plopped his bare feet on the ground. It had snowed in Gotham, and nothing about that seemed to be bothering him. He had no jacket, no shoes, and looked like he'd walked out of a ward somewhere.
A wild hobo!

(Below is a picture. I edited out his cuts and bruises to make it forum safe.)

Colin sighed, holding his pistol, hidden within his coat, and a few knives around his belt. In this town, it's easy to get killed. The would be mugger behind him could attest to that, his throat slit before he could even think. There were rumors of bat people, animal people in general, he recalled.

Mollies, the lot of them, he thought, looking around. He noticed an injured man digging through a dumpster and approached slowly, keeping an eye out. Colin noted it was his favorite camouflage dumpster, the dumpster he often took from to keep the Mollies out. Colin was slightly shorter, but far thinner than him, but he killed bigger men before.

"Step away from the garbage, 'less you're like me and trying to hide from them," he said quietly, "that's my favorite dumpster, pal, best AntiMol camo I've ever seen. And I'm not keen on someone digging through it."

https://sta.sh/01pe3tebauii

Though the streets were hardly a safe place to be, Gene still enjoyed the short walks she would take on her way to the parks or abandoned lots to clear her head. The fallen snow also seemed to help her mind wander, her eyes trailing over footprints and patterns that indented the white powder on the busy pathway.

She could let her mind wander like this, totally alone, no worries, least not normally. But considering how quickly she let her awareness fade, it got her into more trouble than out.
Gene was not one to pay much attention to the world outside of her bubble, with her headphones plugged in and her hat pulled over her eyes, she could possibly walk into traffic if she made a wrong turn. Luckily, she hadn't....yet. Either way it made it rather difficult not to run into everything else on the way when she went on her usual walk. A lamppost, a bench....a person.

Gene was used to running into sturdier objects, so when she came into full contact with a rather aromatic person, her usual preparations were lackluster at best.
"Oooph!" she stumbled a bit, holding one side of her headphones so they wouldn't slip off, her other hand still buried deep in the pockets of her hoodie. Looking up to see who would be "dumb" enough to just be standing in the way, she was one to talk considering it was her fault, to begin with, her bushy brows furrowed, then lifted. She blinked a moment, looking him over. A hobo, she had not expected a hobo.

Alf was just pleased that his present company wasn't trying to cart him off to the emergency room. He looked down his shirt and dusted off the front. Dumpster diving was a ploy to get some peace and quiet, because he couldn't get any at home. The only place it seemed to be feasible was where nobody knew him.
Bare in mind, Alf's definition of peace and quiet was different from everyone else's.

He stepped away, but did it with a suspicious scowl. Colin was still carrying blood stink.

"Don't be weird." Alf grunted, putting his better arm through his backpack strap. He didn't ask what AntiMol meant. It wasn't the first time he'd bumped into a babbling less fortunate human in Gotham. Their numbers were strong. "I'm moving on and I got no business with you."

Gene almost knocked him over. Almost. He jerked his feet apart to steady himself and save face, but turned a scowl on her that would have backed a honey badger into a corner.
"Watch it."

"Like it or not, you have business with me now, Protomol. Hands up over your head, slow, I don't want this to get violent." He said, before something approached him from behind. Whirling, his new foe collided with a girl with the most outrageous hair he'd seen in a while.

"Tell me that bauble around your neck's for show. This is the last place I'd expect Mollies. It's my dumpster, after all. It's the best dumpster in town for my needs," he said, rotating so he was facing the two people his back to a wall, his scarred face slowly twisting with hatred.

Gene blinked again, then returned a scowl of her own, lowering her headphones to rest around her neck. Her nose wrinkled a bit, once more having to enjoy small wafts of the ever fragrant hobo.

"Ey, I'm just walkin' here no need to go rabid bozo." her brows went back to a furrowed state like two caterpillars were trying to nest over her eyes. She shoved her hands back into her pockets. She didn't quite take kindly to people getting huffy at her, especially smelly shoeless hobos.

After having what seemed to be some ridiculous contest of who could scowl more, Gene finally picked her eyes up to dart over at Colin. Another hobo perhaps? They seemed to breed quickly down here. She tapped her foot a moment, thinking whether it was a good idea to even try and keep up this little game of grump and grumpier.

"'m sorry geez..." she trailed off, giving a half attempt at some flat apology, her eyes straying over back to Alf.

That was until the other hobo seemed to be getting agitated, pointing around and calling her "Molly" or something.
"Ey ey ey what the hell? I said I was sorry what's your problem eh?" She took a step back, bouncing more on her toes now. Jaw set a bit, this was proving to be more of a bad walk then a good one.

She was starting to get defensive, see this is why it was a bad idea not to pay attention to your surroundings in a place like this.

Colin snarled.
"Tell. Me. What. That. Trinket. Does." he snarled, "otherwise someone here is going to die. I've come too far to die now. Actually, a test. Stick your head in that dumpster," he said, motioning to the aforementioned haven of old food, maggots and wrappers, "if you can't, and don't tell me everything I want to know, you're a Mollie," he spat, "and I've seen what happens. It's all waves, you see," he said, "tell me what I want to know and I explain. Don't and I spill your likely sparkly blood all over this dumpster. A shame. I'd need a new dumpster, and I like this one. Perfect camo. Only other good one's on the other end of town, and I hate hauling my finds back home from there."

Gene's brows furrow further, now she was getting ticked off. Was he threatening her? Over her hair? What the heck was this guys problem? Hobos or not she was in no mood to be told to go anywhere near a nasty old dumpster. And in even less of a mood to be having her blood being spilled in one way or another.
"Ey you come anywhere near me and you're losing a whole lot more than a 'perfect dumpster' or whatever. Back off."
Her muscles were tensed, swaying a bit on her toes. Ready to fight or flight depending on what she was faced with.

Colin noticed her tense and smile, drawing a knife slowly.
"Wrong answer. What's that bauble do on your neck, Mollie?" he asked quietly, "gonna have to break it, knowing your kind. Now, you have a damn choice. Stick your hand in this dumpster," he said, motioning to the maggot infested steel container, "or I see if you bleed pink. Understand?"

If it came down to keeping his eyes on one or the other, Alf picked Colin. He was definitely the wild card, and he wasn't making a whole lot of sense, either.

"Back off." Alf growled in a warning tone and stepped backward with Gene. Pride wasn't going to be a factor in this, if it made sense to turn tail, he'd do just that, but not yet. All he wanted out of his evening was to take his various garage sale knick knacks home and pick them apart until his curiosity was satisfied.
He nudged Gene with his eyes.

Time to back away slowly and put a few streets between themselves and whatever was wrong with this fella.

Colin turned.
"Shut up and listen, big guy. You wanna fight? I've killed far bigger and uglier than you," he said, "look, see, if I can explain myself, and you guys remain calm, nothing bad needs to happen. You think I want this? To swim in trash? To live in an abandoned shack in the bad side of town? To see them every time I close my eyes? How I failed?!" he roared, his hands raised, but his body oddly loose.

"I don't! Now listen! You are in grave danger! You don't know this yet, but your life, and the world, is at stake here! Listen to me, damn it all! You can't run forever! They're almost here!" he screamed, "Look what they did to me! Look at my face! Look at it! I was the lucky one, wanna know what happened to the others!? They ATE them! They'll eat you, too! They're going to try and eat us! Let me explain! Please!" he begged, his eyes red, "please, listen to me! I've tried everything!"

Gene saw the mental nudge, her brows rose a bit in agreement.
There were wackos in this town, sadly seemed they had bumped into one tonight. She took a step back with Alf, hands still in her hoodie pockets. He wanted her hands for some reason, so she didn't wanna show any of them.

She frowned a bit when he kept trying to talk about her necklace. It was definitely time to just high tail it outta there with the more sane hobo. Knives were not a balanced part of her diet.

((Ah, my mistake, I misread! He meant her necklace. Still not really interested in a throw down, so I think I'm going to exit Alf here until later.))


Alf left, at first as casually as if he were walking away from an unpenned bull, but toward the end of the alley he booked it. The only thing he stopped to do was make sure Gene was still just an arm's length away. That fella needed help, but there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't even read the street signs, let alone point someone to a homeless shelter he wasn't aware existed.
Gotham was still a strange place to him, but it had streets and allies just like the cities back home, and it was easy to lose a tail in them.

Gene was more than next to Alf, she was in front of him, running backward at first and then turning and only looking over her shoulder every now and then. She wasn't gonna die today, not over some wackos dumpster delusions. Her eyes followed the signs that littered the streets, she took a turn here and then, hoping the more sane hobo would follow at the moment. She didn't feel like doing the whole "lets split up" thing at the moment. Numbers were nice at least until you knew you weren't gonna get gutted in an alleyway.

Colin followed, his deranged frenzy, physical training, and sheer panic granting him speed that allowed him to easily keep pace. He screamed at them, loudly.
"Stop! Listen, we can sort this out! I just need to do a little test, okay! People are going to die from this, I need help! Not a shrink, reinforcements! There's no way I can do this alone!"

Colin turned, walking back home, hands empty. This irritated him to no end.

A random Hank Hill goes running through the area. Screaming "BWAAA!" as he went. Then he disappeared around a corner never to be seen again.

(the smaller images are what he's looking like at the moment.)

Zephyrus had been trailing around the streets of Gotham with his normal outfit- a dark blue shirt, black jeans, and blue sneakers to compliment his outfit. On top of that, he wore a causal black jacket, in a way to hide most of the tattoos/symbols/hieroglyphics along his arms. Though there were still many visible, like on his neck, hands, and face, he didn't mind it that all. People in this place were weird, after all. A bit of weird and unrecognizable tatts never bothered anyone.
He was currently blasting music through his ears with his earbuds, his hands stuffed in his pocket, and a small frown displayed along his face. In all honesty, he wanted nothing to do with anyone right now. But then again, he was always like that.
He turned a small corner once realizing that he was out in public, which is something he hated doing, since people could see him. It left him slightly vulnerable, so he decided to stay hidden. He kept walking, before walking past a man that looked rather furious and defeated, making eye contact with him for a split second, before glancing back down at the ground and walking right past him.

Colin reacted to the tattooed man's presence nearly instantly, whirling and grabbing his shirt, leaning in close.
"Listen," he said quietly, "there's a massive danger to this town. No, the world," he said, keeping his options open, "I'm going to need to run a few tests on you, got it? Follow me. Now. Otherwise, I'll have to assume you're... one of them." He shuddered, leading his new charge back towards his favorite dumpster.