The Jungle (Mature)

[Plantae]

We have certain views on escapism. For the larger part of our history, we have been dreamers. In olden times, we were music-makers. The ancient human race was one obsessed with mysticism in all its forms: monsters, magic, gods. They were enraptured by everything which we have come to call "myths."

There is no explanation as to why it happened. Suddenly, the imaginative fables our ancestors considered truth became "just stories." Some say this was due to the advent of science, but there is little actual proof of this. Belief in such things fell out of favor before the golden age of civilization. In medieval times, in poverty and with little knowledge of technology, such beliefs had already disappeared. People became persuaded of the fact that, all and all, those superstitions, those legends, that folklore, was nothing more than lies.

And if they were lies, we can see what must have occurred. Some compare many lies to a tangled web, forgetting the strength of the spider's silk. A number of lies together are nothing more than a precarious tower, hastily built, which at the right time, in the right wind, has a tendency to collapse. But bricks and mortar do not just disappear. Ruins remain; our own science tells us matter cannot be destroyed. And if matter, why not ideas? Why not deceit?

On a plane of vast mist and in an ocean of water black, through and through, there lies an island. There is a wall here, broken at the edge of the sea. Beyond here, past a small stretch of sandy, listless beach, there is only an endless wood. Like any true rainforest, it holds unmeasured biodiversity. Creatures lurk here, some of which have never been seen by human eyes, and at least a few of which are malevolently intelligent. Its existence has never been marked. You will uncover it charted on no map. But be aware, for there are many places here to trespass, that it is not, by any means, undiscovered.

No living human, or at least in the Terran sense of the word, has ever seen it. That is, perhaps, until now. At one time, the island had a lower half, a bleak wilderness, dotted with pine trees and covered in snow. It had mountains, which, despite the physical impossibility, have been completely devoured by the sea. The land was ruled by an iron-fisted mistress, Zhila of the River, who had molded the land to her purpose with her power over all things aqueous. The wall now broken once towered here, an impassable barrier, the exact function of which remains unknown.

And then they arrived. An intrepid band of humans, maybe the only ones to ever come to the island, found their way through. Instantly thrust into survival, they were visited by a nightmare and gifted powers they did not understand and whose origin was surely sinister. Using them wantonly, their fear soon gave way to curiosity. For unexplained reasons, Zhila opposed them. In attempting to murder them, she was killed by them, by the trespassers on her own lands. With her death, the fabric of the lower island weakened, and the humans were forced to flee past the crumbling wall. Zhila's domain was swallowed by the sea which she had thought she controlled, and her killers found themselves again forlorn on the sandy beach, at the edge of the jungle.

Unbeknownst to them, they have drawn the attention of many. Few who walk the island are unaware of the death of the mistress of the River world, Zhila. The arrival of man is an omen, linked to countless things. There are more cultures here than one could count. There are inklings of beings, stalking the dark. There are secrets, always, many kept from the humans themselves.

For what would they do if they knew, perhaps, that a city lay just past the jungle? That a harbor, consumed by the white man's greed, existed. It is a vast labyrinth, and within, perhaps, is a way home... however, even within civilization, things prowl the night.

The objective of the humans is simple: discover the way back to their own world. It is always these incomplex plans which go most wrong in the end. Even now, some within the group seek to deviate from that path. Home is not always where the heart is.

The motives of the island denizens vary, but there is one certainty. They cannot escape. All have become part of it. They have been swept into the irreversible change that has come, and as the plot thickens, the consequences may be dire.

Summary
I will clarify the setting for the large number of you which are confused at this point. The events of the Jungle center around an island, the exact location of which is unknown, save that it is not on Earth. The island itself is a vast rainforest, filled with life. The denizens of the island can be nearly anything. Many are creatures of myth: banshees, satyrs, or even long-forgotten gods. There is no inkling that anyone gets along. People carry out their own business, living lives and dying deaths. There are underlying cultures, many trading with one another, and hidden machinations between all the denizens here, many of which oppose each other in some way. Magic is prevalent and accepted, the exact form varying from practitioner to practitioner. No one has ever mapped the place, and none understand everything about it. There is history here, but there are no history books. Within the bounds of the island, there are many ruins, which suggest things about the past. Most beings here have the magical gift of tongues, but some speak languages that other denizens do not understand.

The exact plot revolves around the disturbance. Though the island is diverse, and there are many pseudo-humans, there is no known record of the Terran (from Earth) humans setting foot here. The River (also see here), the prequel to this role-playing game, revolved around a group of humans who ended this, being the first of their kind to ever do so. The exact nature of what the humans are, and in seeing their newly found magical powers, what they can do, and what this means, is highly debated among the island denizens. Many see the humans as creatures which they can use to further their own ends, as complex as the island itself. Others see them as a threat which must be destroyed. Those which regard them as benign are rare, especially after the incident.

The reason such a large amount of rumor surrounds the humans is because of what they did. The creature Zhila, a water-manipulating mage, once ruled a lower half of the island which no longer exists. She sought to kill the humans, though her motives were unclear, and in attempting to do so was killed by them. Many of the island denizens are shocked. Part of this is to do with the fact that Zhila was quite powerful, and secondly, what their victory actually caused. For a very long time, a vast wall stood between the Southern and Northern half of the island. When Zhila was destroyed, this broke. The exact purpose of the wall is unknown and is largely viewed as something Zhila built herself to ward away invaders. However, no attempt to destroy the wall was ever successful, and the fact that the humans were (allegedly) able to has aroused an unmeasured amount of interest.

Other Information
A word of caution: this is not a role-playing game meant for those who need to be led by the hand. I will, from time to time, drop plot hints, but I will never overtly push you in any direction. It is up to the player to come up with their own stories. You may, in a sense, do nearly anything you like. Due to this, it is recommended you discuss plot details with the other players. I will hear no complaints which are related to someone interfering in the course of a subplot you had planned.

A few rules: to maintain the atmosphere of the setting I have created, nothing above medieval technology is permitted. Furthermore, I ask that you are very careful not to act god-like in-character. If I feel that one character seems to be having an indeterminable amount of luck and that tragedy never seems to befall them, I will personally see to it that it does. This is one of the few times I will act as a host, and at any other time, I would have it that you be under the assumption that "all members are equal." The mature tag stretches no further than intensely depicted violence, moderate language, and implied sex. There are several established cultures and settings, created by other players and myself. I will do my best to list and describe them here.

Kinnari or Kinnon - These Birdpeople are a race of half-human, half-bird hybrids with feathers of purest gold. They are human-sized, and are really quite stupid, having only the most rudimentary of human thinking functions. They are generally very vain. Naturally, they can fly. Females are kinnari, and males are kinnon. They do have an alpha male who is the leader of the flock. The Savages have a complex mythology built up around the Birdpeople in which the alpha male becomes a King of the Birdpeople, and the race as a whole are the equivalent of angels and gods. It is taboo to trap or hurt the birdpeople in any way. However, some exiles of the tribe make a living by trapping them, and bring them to the great city where the Birdpeople are sold as pets.

The Savages - A race of primitive humans devoted to worship of the birdpeople. They have strange, incongruous features, and are very war-like. Their mindset is alien and somewhat disturbing to those that come in contact with them. Most are somewhat ooze-like in nature, with misarranged features, and in some cases (such as with Kaesaht and Seezeit in the prequel) have active power over this. The exiles of these tribes often go into the business of capturing the Kinnari and Kinnon and selling them in the City. These trappers are locked in a perpetual war with the birdpeople and their servant Savages.

The City - This great harbor is a home to many denizens, most of which have taken to impersonating humans. There is a clear rich and poor class, the former living the high life and spending wealth that never seems to dry up; these posh people are the most frequent purchasers of the captured Kinnari or Kinnon. The city was founded as a simplistic society, but quickly grew into a haven of crime and greed. Its culture is almost exactly the same as Victorian England, with people making reference to a non-existent Queen. It is ruled by a governor and his battalion of fierce guards; largely, he is believed to be insane, and he has no noticeable influence on the way the city is run.

The Demons - A race of shape-shifting beings of which little is known. They make their home very close to the wall in ruins of limestone. They are believed to be malevolent by most of the Jungle denizens, but may simply be misunderstood. There are rumors that the exile Savages are somehow tied to them, and that they may have had a hand in assisting the humans destroy Zhila. These are largely dismissed as pure fabrication.

The Form
For the purpose of plot consistency, no new human character forms will be allowed. All those who enlist in this thread must choose an island denizen, which should hardly be difficult. The exact nature of your character is limited only by your imagination and the rules mentioned above. It is recommended, if you are having a difficult time, that you use a mythological creature and alter it to your desires. Those who participated in "The River" may use any of their former characters if they wish, and may alter them to their desires to show any changes that may have occurred during the course of the prequel's plot.

The basic format for a character form is below. You may add any additional fields as you see necessary. If you feel your character concept is somewhat strange, you may wish to private message me to have it approved. I ask that you reveal only as much in the form below as your character would willingly reveal to others. That is, if your character would not tell his name to a person he meets, do not list it. Make note of these hidden details and send them to me by private message for approval. If you feel that your character would reveal very little at all than do one of two things: write the form as a lie, listing the false identity your character tries to create. Or, secondly: private message me with the entire form, which I will subsequently approve.

Name - I believe this is self-explanatory.
Gender - Male or female, though other genders may occasionally be acceptable.
Appearance - I suggest you keep in mind that we are not all extremely attractive.
Personality - I believe this is self-explanatory.
Abilities - Please detail any martial, supernatural, or skill-related talents your character possesses.
Background - A summary of your character's past; this can be brief.
Other - Any interesting quirks or little-known-facts may go here. If this does not apply, do not use "Other."
Roleplaying Sample - Place a link to one recent post of yours here that you think displays your talent as a roleplayer.

Name - Joseph (Mathias) Haeuser
Gender - Male
Appearance - He stands at about six feet in height and is quite slim, to the point of appearing almost malnourished. Whilst away from home, he has developed lean muscle, though it is not easily noticeable. Thrust into the wilderness, he has begun to tan; his complexion has changed from ghostly white to a slight bronze. His features are angular, almost feral, especially given his green-gray eyes, steeped in malice and rimmed by perpetual dark circles; his bushy, jet brown eyebrows have faded into a subtler sienna shade. Joseph's once-short hair has grown to the length of his chin and underneath the dirt blonde, his roots are slowly turning ginger. His fingernails, notably, seem to have gone unbitten since the whole ordeal began. Once new, his black tee is splattered slightly with blood and tattered similarly to dirt-covered navy blue jeans. He continues to wear sandals with velcro straps, and his feet bear tiny pockmarks from the underbrush he has stepped through. Given his uncleanliness, it is impossible to determine his exact age; he must be somewhere in his late teens or early twenties. He carries what appears to be a razor-edged metal fan with a leather grip in his pocket.

Personality - Joseph appears insociable, even sinister or soft-spoken, but this is the wrong impression. He merely prefers to listen and to interject occasionally with a pointed remark that one should usually respect. He can be talkative and witty amongst those who appreciate it, but remains cynical to a fault. He is not pessimistic, but is always doubting. Though one would believe, given his caustic nature, that he is egotistical, this may not be entirely true. He is modest, generally. To put it simply, he is a man of contradictions. He shows politeness to strangers and acquaintances, but reserves some level contempt for friends. He hides parts of his life. People think that he is protecting himself from getting to close, but then they find that there are no secrets of value behind these walls. Given the combination of these factors, Joseph proves somewhat capricious. This may be due also, however, to his wholly dispassionate nature. As a person, he never really seems to care about anything at all. That is, until he does.

Abilities - He has manifested enhanced senses and inhuman celerity, though he may have other abilities which he has kept hidden. Though his only other appreciable skill is wilderness survival, he also has some modicum of martial talent, especially in use of his war fan, an item granted to him by an unknown patron.

Background - During his stay in this new world, Joseph has proven himself a disloyal companion. Initially, he introduced himself by an allegedly fake name, "Mathias." Furthermore, he has proven on multiple occasions that he is slightly manipulative, even of those who are kind to him in turn. Following the defeat of Zhila, he disappeared into the Jungle, deserting the original group of humans. His exact motives are unclear, but of the humans on the island, he is perhaps the least concerned with returning home.

Current Participants
Plantae - Joseph (Mathias) Haeuser
Weasel Overlord - Arioch, Sirin Ito-ku, and Tryfan
Vulpix.ck87 - Pan and Seryeh
Cxjenious - Samael
Emotional Faun Chiko-sai - Puacca and Ms. Brown
River - Rajnish
Bulbasaur4 - The Watcher
Arnen - Litae
darktyranitar - Ka
Asilynne - "Young" Lily O'Keefe
Drusilla - Sara Raize
Dr. McNinja - Erwyne

[Weasel Overlord]

numero uno;

Name: Arioch
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Appearance: Arioch has a mane of red hair which flows over his shoulders, curling softly behind his ears and at the nape of his neck. His hair reaches to just below his shoulder-blades and he usually ties it back with the help of a dark ribbon in the typical style of a Victorian gentleman. His eyes are of the deepest brown, soulful in their intensity and ability to look sorrowful with a seconds notice, and topped by a pair of finely defined eyebrows which looked shaped, but really aren't.
Usually, Arioch can be seen wearing a flat, wide-brimmed hat in a faded black, with a wide, dusky grey ribbon tied about the top, ends dangling behind to about halfway down his back.
Hat! (see picture for hattage, only it's minus the skull and stuff)
Most often, Arioch's clothing takes place in a somewhat eccentric style, in which he prefers to wear a heavily embroidered tunic in black, with intricate gold stitching trailing angelic patterns across his chest. Tied about his slender waist, the tunic is gathered with a velvet cord of deepest red, which is knotted at the left hip, the excess cord dangling to the knee.
For his pants, however, he dresses like a normal teenager, clad in a pair of black cords faded as everything else is and baggy at the bottom, around his feet. The cords have a widening rip horizontally across his right knee, the ragged threads left around the edges, ready to catch on anything and everything that touches it, further widening the tear until, one day, it will engulf the whole of his right knee.
Personality: For all intents and purposes, Arioch is what could be classified as a vampire, in that he drinks blood in order to survive, but he takes no pleasure in the act, most often being repulsed at himself to such an extent that the very act of feeding almost makes him physically sick. Only the thought of his slow and painful death without lifeblood is enough to keep him feeding. That and God's promise of salvation once his work on earth is done.
Arioch is a Demonologist, and he takes his work seriously to the point of obsession, carrying his ancient book clutched to his chest wherever he goes. His knowledge of demons is unsurpassed and he can identify almost any species on sight, selecting the correct incantation within seconds from the dusty tome.
Abilities: Since Arioch is, in fact, a vampire, all the abilities of this race apply to him. He has preternatural vision, speed and has absolutely no need of food or drink as a human would. However, he is completely reliant on his intake of blood for his own survival, and as with all vampires, the touch of sunlight is deadly to him. Unlike in the old tales, his reflection can be glimpsed in a mirror, and garlic is of only minor inconvenience; although the cross and the stake are not to be taken as lightly. Each vampire’s gift manifests itself differently, and in Arioch, this manifests as perfect alacrity of movement. Indeed, they are so swift when he wishes, that they cannot be discerned by mortal eye; a useful talent indeed in hunting demons and mortal prey alike.
Background: Arioch keeps much of his background a secret. All he is willing to relay to strangers is that he does the work of God, and that his past is of no account in light of this present.
The only detail which he would reveal is the name of his sire; Lèandre, upon whom he feels revenge must be served before he can enter the legions of heaven and, finally, die as he feels he must.
Other: As his weapon Arioch carries a very large, very old book with dusty dust covers, peeling leather bindings, and an imposing-looking velvet bookmark. How does one fight with a book, you ask? Well, Arioch simply clouts non-demons over the head with it. It's a very large, very heavy book after all. And for the non-humans, ie: the demons, he has a large variety of damning script, incantations and various other general banishing spells, all of which are very effective at killing, maiming and otherwise banishing demons and otherworldly spirits back to the planes from whence they came.
In case of the ineffectuality of the book, he also carries a tiny dagger, with a rubied hilt and a blood-channel down the very centre of the blade which catches any stray blood, ready for the drinking.

EDIT: Oops, I forgot my post sample. I'll stick one in when I post my third (and final) sign-up, ok!?

[Plantae]

I hardly need to say that your form is accepted, Ms. Overlord; and yes, add that sample in on your last sign-up.

Cxjenious, your private message request for reservation is accepted. Furthermore, Asilynne and Drusilla, consider yourselves reserved if you intend to participate; as of the moment, I have yet to hear any word from either of you.

[Cxjenious]

Name - Samael
Gender- Male
Appearance - Samael, a brunette, is not of an intimidating height, nor a deficient one; he is more or less average, and of a considerably fit build. His hair, if left to its own devices, hangs just below his ear, but he more often than not has it slicked back against his scalp. He has a strong, almost severe face; high cheekbones, a thin, straight nose, nearly thick, straight brows, a bold, refined jawline, and a faint cleft chin. His eyes change in color almost periodically, from a very dark brown to a dazzling forest green, and nearly any and every color inbetween, though this is largely due to the fact that his eyes are truly 'nuetral' in color, and reflect the colors around him. He has a very faint five o'clock shadow, though sometimes he grows it out into a full beard. He is noble, and thus everything else about his appearance is severly immaculate, from his embroidered black doublet with worked buttons to the matching breeches. His high collar is worn usually open at the top in the French fashion. This is not his only set of clothes, however; he can be seen in a simple white tunic and fine-leather riding breeches, and sometimes, just sometimes, he can be seen in an old, but exquisetly designed leather jerkin-pants set. He always wears some type of riding boots, however.
Personality - Sometimes haughty, but often times not, Samael is a charming man, not above self degredation, but not at all forgiving of slights against his character by others. Deeply honorable, he always keeps his word, though will not hesitate to manipulate his way out of undesirable situations. He has a way with words, and ability to twist truths and sugar-coat lies, and has almost scary intuition, as if he could literally see a person's soul. He sometimes will contradict others just for the sake of contradicion, and will sometimes be arbitray in his actions. He is sometimes egocentric, but hates egocentrism in others.
Abilities - Described as a 'magician', he is unusually dexterous in every sense of the word. There have been mutterings that he is unnaturally strong and durable, also, but no real edvidence to these rumours. He is proficient with a high number of different sword types and styles: fencing with rapiers, the hack and slash style of falchions, scimitars, and even nodachi's when upon horseback
Background - Samael is a notable denizen of the city, and quite well-liked amongst the wealthy. Not much else, if anything, is known about his past, though many say he is but a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Other - He has a 'retainer' named Lilith, who is an alarmingly precocious child. She has three sisters, but they are either dead or never existed at all.


Name - Lilith
Gender - Female
Appearance - On the cusp of womanhood, Lilith is a seemingly frail young child, with delicate, soft features and long honey blonde hair, often done up in soft curls and ringlets, but on most occasions just left down. Her eyes, neutral like Samael's, are wide and round, giving her a sort of 'dreamy' expression, enhancing her innate innocence. She most often wears Italian gowns, varying in color from peach to brown, but since she is in truth a servant, her gowns are not quite the quality of the other nobility, but the intricate archaic patterns woven across the gowns more than make up for it. She, also like Samael, is always immaculately groomed, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Despite her apparent status in the society, she still an oddly 'wild' girl, so she doesn't often wear shoes, but oddly enough, her feet are not calloused at all.
Personality - She can be precoious, at times, but in other instances can be as batty as a bird, as demure as a doe, or as energetic as a shrew. She can also be vindictive, and like some children, is prone to through the occasional temper tantrum, and can at times be inexplicably jealous. Still, she is kind-hearted and benevolent.
Abilities - She is extremely agile and graceful, and can, on some level, 'speak' with her surroundings.
Background - Her past is just as mysterious as Samael's, perhaps even moreso, since she only confides in Samael.

[Vulpix.ck87]

[A distant fanfare..]

Name - Pantére & Seryeh [pant-terr, sir-yey]. These are the names the gods gave them, so pronounce them with the ancient lilt of some long forgotten tongue and you will receive beautiful bouquets of cookies..
Gender - Both of them be very muchly of the male variety, not quite eons old but atleast of a millenia. They show their age in a particular way, but to the uneducated their forms appear youthful, each seemingly no older than their early twenties.

Pan
Appearance - Of all things, this boy-no-longer-a-boy is most notably scarred upon every inch of his body, and more recently in some places in others. This includes even his scalp, so much so that he keeps his hair short, for if the centimetre fuzz of silver-grey were to grow any longer it would be divided into disjointed tufts by the deep, lingering scratches running through it. Above this muddle of everlasting marks there rise distinct features though, which overshadow even his blemishes, even if they are not particularly (remotely) handsome.

Distinguished, taupe eyebrows peak over keen yellow eyes to coincide with the contours of his expressions, which are deeply etched upon his noble appearance like the shadows of clouds over the earth, and with definition - for instance, by the enunciation the singed black rims of his irises provide. He has long sweeping lashes, which flit over his eyes like a brief mist over the waxing moon, and full blood-red lips, the colour standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin, and to the tiny white scars which run along and into his lips, comparable to small disordered stitches.

His teeth are small, honed and pointed, his tongue narrow and acid, sinuous in its composure and just as red as his lips and gums, which wash over his features like blood. His canines appear enhanced, and he is missing a premolar behind all four canines. These bicuspids may have been loosed to fit in the larger canine perhaps (he vaguely remembers brutal dental surgery of a primitive form, one of the very few early memories he possesses). His ears are small with the lobes adjoined to his head, yet acute; his nose is straight and narrow, similarly petite, similarly sharp.

He bears the gangling frame of a teen boy, a slightly underfed and skeletal one at that, all angles and juts and bumps. His hands are strong and durable though, his long slender fingers calloused from work and skilful in their dexterity. Though his skin is pale to the point of it being comparable to the ethereal white of the moon, its glow is tarnished and lulled to a human standard by the camouflaging layer of dirt that coats it. His high cheekbones, strong-wired jaw and brief brow speak worlds of a nobility he was not born into but, for the most part, he just looks savage.

Personality - He does not hold much room for sentiment within him, for his own immortality is likewise bestowed upon the world in his mind - perhaps a flawed defence mechanism he has adopted in response to the amount of death he has witnessed (and caused). In respect to this, he often 'forgets' to consider the dangers that the world holds for mortal beings, and so plunges recklessly on, equally as often placing others in risk of death. He has had enough years for all the compassion and sensibility in the world, happiness likewise, and yet it never seized him in particular. His mind is so often drawn by the little things that when a thought of a larger scale grips him he is prone to somewhat unhinging. The world falsely seems so boundless, and all wild ambition perfectly achievable, whilst in truth it is so stunted and restricted for him due to his imprisonment. He bears this truth when he is of a sane mind, and foolishly casts it aside when he sets his sights on something.

His brother treats him with a mild resigned sort of amusement as well as a kind of fatherly authority - he’s the older brother (by minutes, yes, but older) and took it upon himself to supervise his little brother over the years, as they had no real guardians to speak of from a very early age. Nevertheless they had an easy relationship, and lost in the tides of the ever-growing world they clung to each other as children, drawing ever closer as they found themselves more and more alone, and realising the only things they could trust were each other. This trust and loyalty and love had a huge part to play in their deal with the gods later on, who appeared to be giving them a choice. If the two boys had considered it, it was obvious the gods were playing them - they had no other answer to the god’s proposal..
Other - [Pan: from Pantere - for leopard; from Pandur -guard/constable/bailiff; and from Pan - the Greek god of nature. ]

Seryeh
Appearance -
As The Cursed Human.. Thick eyebrows, stubby fingers, dirty nails and pitch, tangled hair; and a pithy, scrabbled skin, which deteriorates fast when exposed to any real environment. From a distant he looks magnificent, so much so that his force would draw respect and the likewise powerful. Sinew on bone, and taller than his brother, for they are not identical. There's a resinous quality to the whole of him that whispers of his eternity; a layer of dust and momentary sparks which settle upon him as he sleeps, Ever-still.

As the Cursed Lion.. The lion is beautifully magnificent, yet willowy dark, and scarred with black upon black upon its underside. The resin lingers within his claws and bones, and the lion's soul feels the pitch tangle, holding its heart always in check. For a creature that demands so much respect and admiration, he carries so much hate and bitterness, with a short temper and voracious bloodlust, yet all that is visible on the outside is the lion's form and its aura of natural order. Its one tawny eye is wide open and it presents a glimmering visage of a feral creature upon its surface, as if unbeknowing of the human it hides underneath. The tips of its tail, ears and paws are as black as the scars upon its stomach, or of the lid of its closed eye; as black as the hollows of space, of absolute nothing, of perpetual death; for this is where its God-given form is the weakest, and fading.

Personality - Ser used to be noble but now the lion, in hatred, knows he is bound to the human soul. Sometimes this affects the man, but mostly he just sleeps whilst human, and when he wakes he is scarcely anything except for an automated form of instinctual prose and his brother's eternal companion. Emotion is often churlish, dulled, or simply haunted. For he is Captured.

The lion on the other hand is Ser in his vividest form, yet at the same time not reminiscent of Seryeh at all - honest, emotive, passionate, ferocious, and a creature whom feeds his desires when they prompt him to. He feels no greed nor need for excess, or wants of unnecessary objects. The lion is not false and does not betray, for he cannot, although sometimes he will play and skirt around the edges of the truth. He persists at the belief that humans talk too much and that they are marred and hindered by all the emotions they keep inside.

And he himself does not reflect on his own emotions but lets them out, and as an affect Ser does not waste time being thoughtful - the only prolonged emotion he has had and still retains is the perpetually recurring hate he feels for his brother and the creatures who did this to him, born respectively from envy and spite. Although, for all his ambivalence, he loves him also, as only a brother can.
Other - [So angry was Hera at Hercules' success that she raised the soul of the lion high into the sky, where today he can be seen as the constellation Leo, the Lion. The Persians knew Leo as Ser, to the Turk, Artan, to the Syrians, Aryo, to the Jews, Arye, and to the Babylonians, Aru, all meaning ‘Lion’.]

Background - They came from Earth, but their father - a mortal man - crossed the gods, and as a result his first born son was sworn to them in payment. His wife became with child around that time to his alarm, and for months he fought with himself for the right thing to do. Eventually, knowing the doomed existence his son would experience, he entered the bedroom chamber where his heavily pregnant wife slept and murdered her in her sleep. It killed her, yes, yet her children still lived and grew, two of them, against all mortal reason. They were 'born' soon after, with a scant few minutes 'twixt their naked forms meeting the outside world, but inevitably, true to the God's promise, one had to be the older. Guilt racked but unable to spill more blood, the father took them and raised them. Ser, or Samuel as he was once known, was born cursed, though knew nothing of it.

When the boy reached puberty the gods came to him, and took him as their payment, and so he was lion-formed and bound to do their deeds when he reached manhood. Pan followed him, similarly young and willing to follow his brother anywhere, and he begged the gods to grant them some recourse and allow them some comfort in life - their father had died long ago and they had nothing but each other. The gods gave Pan a choice, live apart from his brother, or aid him as brothers do. Pan naturally chose the latter, and so the two became bound by the gods in return, and made immortal, and taken to the intermediate plane of their new home. The binding was formed somewhere deep and internal, and was made for eternity. Whenever Ser is hurt, Pan feels his pain and takes his scars.

However this only bred some resentment, as Ser, born only moments ahead of Pan, is jealous of his humanity and bitter about his own condition, and Pan is bound to a brother who is no longer the boy he once knew and yet he must bear his pain.
Abilities - As part of the deal neither could wound for any prolonged period of time, and nor could they die (not properly anyway) for they are only the gods' to kill. Seryeh can only be truly hurt by his own brother and other gods, and that is what leaves the black scars upon him.. Both heal terribly fast - small cuts disappearing in a matter of minutes and major wounds generally going overnight. Limbs and major body parts take a couple of days to regrow.

Whilst the lion bleeds and heals likewise as his brother does, Pan’s blood evaporates upon contact with air, and steams away from his wounds. In respect to being bound to his brother, Pan is also bound to Ser’s lion curse, and when Pan is wounded the damaged area is replaced with lion skin/fur, and if he were to lose a limb, say an arm, it would be replaced with a lion’s until his human form can heal in the spiritual sense and regenerate. Pan sacrificed his mortal world to serve in faith his brother, and to a certain degree he regrets this deeply.

Hope this is ok. They're not allpowerful, I swear to you, in fact they have a multitude of flaws and weaknesses. Besides, you know that's not my style. ^_~ But oops, they're not native to the River world either, don't kill me.. I made them up before you put that rule in there. They're semi gods, but employed to do the god's bidding. They live within their own God created plane, which will be described within the first post, and they travel to different realms to carry out certain deeds. In their own world they are divine creatures, unscarred and beautiful, whilst in the mortal worlds they carry their burdens..

p.s. Sorry Jibs, but I relly can’t be arsed with the post sample. You’ve seen it all before, anyway, more or less. Vengefully exercise your wrath upon my sign up, if you so wish.

[Plantae]

I am glad to accept your form, Cxjenious. Yes, Vulpix.ck, I will let you around the role-playing sample, seeing as I have read a countless number of your posts. On that note, Ms. Overlord, you might as well just ignore it as well. Also, as long as your character is not human, it is acceptable for them to not be native as well.

[Emotional Faun Chiko-sai]

Reposting for purposes of visibility. Not that there's much more addition to be visibilated.

Name: Ellen Brown

Gender: Female

Appearance: Small and slight of stature, approximately 4'11" in height, Ellen is neat in habits and demeanour. On her days off she wears severe, high-collared dresses of drab cotton stuff (very occasionally gingham), with a small peaked hat for going about town, and cheap boots that are nonetheless immaculately polished; on other days the hat is replaced by a discreet mobcap, and she dons a white apron; she may be encountered with dusters, ladles or even brooms, should the lower staff chance to be less cooperative. Her skin is as brown as the proverbial nut, her hair thick and coarse, oiled and knotted tightly in a bun; her eyes are an unsympathetic shade of ecru, with almost imperceptible lines beneath them, and placed quite regularly, in an oval face devoid of remarkable feature. Deft and infinitely flexible, her hands are work-stained and rough.

Personality: Ellen is placid and infinitely patient, never having lost her temper for as long as anyone can remember. Calm and mild-mannered, and rarely, if ever surprised, she takes things in her stride. When faced with matters that she knows nothing of, her mind can be said to plod, but she is a steadfast plodder for all that, with definite goals, even if said goals are merely to get home in time to ensure that the salvaged tailfeathers are stuck into the roasted carcass of the peacock at table. Does not think any more that required, finding that things work out much simpler that way. She does have a kind of authority about her person, but utilizes it only in extreme circumstances; people who have experienced this mention that it is very much like pulling the tail of a good-natured dog once too often only to find the teeth of said good-natured dog embedded in your hand to the tune of a worrying, reverberating growl.

Abilities: Adept in all aspects of the household, including bookkeeping, cookery, subtle badgering of lower-ranked servants and dusting; she is particularly proud of her ability to fold a dinner napkin into the shape of a swan in the space of five seconds. She blends into backgrounds with ease, this being a talent of accomplished servants everywhere (save footmen, whose task it is to stand out). Also has the uncanny ability to tell when anyone is lying.

Background: There is a significant offshoot tribe of the Savages whose people are completely human in appearance and considerably more rational in nature as compared to their compatriots; these are labeled by those brilliant wags in the City as 'Noble' Savages. It should be noted, however, that these Noble Savages do not bleed when cut; rather, they ooze some sort of slime or pus, similar to that which constitutes the physical makeup of the other Savages. They are in great demand as fashionable servants in the City, and it was to fulfil the demand of one such family that Ellen was bought and brought.
She was sold at a young age, perhaps five, and worked her way up through the ranks from drudge to housekeeper. At present she is in her late twenties, and also acts as governess to her owner's children. (this last to be revised, but for now it'll do.)

Other: Has been lapsing into odd spells of late. After one such interlude, her mind 'woke up' in her body to find grass, partially digested, regurgitated into her mouth.


Name: Unknown, called the Puacca

Gender: Male

Appearance: Having no set form of his own, the Puacca's appearance changes constantly. He may take the shape of any sentient being save that of humans, or humanoid creatures; this includes such animal-human hybrids such as the Birdpeople, likewise, he cannot or will not mimic the features of a Savage. His eyes are the only constant thing about his fluctuating physique; in line with the old rule that though the face may change, the eyes may not, they are always the same steady amber, ringed with red, with slit pupils that dilate noticeably in the presence of light.
(Yes... so very descriptive, my description is, I know. ><)

Personality: For the most part the Puacca is benign, having no desire to hurt or injure others, although lust does come into play at times, the results being less than satisfactory. His mind is a jumble and a-flutter, jumping from one issue to another, running to one side and then to another, but he is not mad. Oh no. I would say (and this is a fair bit of conjecture for I have never spoken to Messr. Puacca and have no way of confirming this) that he is a simple creature at heart, only made difficult and fickle through repeated and uncontrollable shapeshifting. He has no mastery over his shapeshifting; he changes whether he wants to or not. He is looking for something, and he misses it, much as Hela looked for and missed her father, but he cannot say what it is for there is no one to understand. He tries to tell people, because he thinks it is a person he is looking for, a humanlike person, and this is why he roams the island in search of people. But people inevitably fail to understand for people do not understand the language of Puaccaese, and most people cannot understand Emotion cried out in its rawest form, not dressed up in words.

Abilities: Shapeshifting, with certain limits as detailed above. His senses of sight, smell, and hearing all correspond to whatever shape he is currently inhabiting, and his shape controls a good amount of his instincts, say if he were a tiger and he were hungry, he would hunt deer, but if he were a cow and he were hungry, he would graze. In the company of demons he exhibits an odd tendency to leech energy from them, whether unwittingly or otherwise.
His presence is signified by a dull buzz at the back of a spectator's mind, growing stronger and more insistent the nearer he is to said spectators and culminating in a total blanking out of the mind if he is in close proximity. Individuals with stronger mental facilities may have some degree of resistance.

Background: The Puacca is, in the view of the Noble Savages, their version of a bogeyman. He is drawn to people, and these Savages who have seen him say that he wails distressingly, in whatever form he happens to be in at the moment. A rather recent addition to the Savage pantheon, he is said by scholars in the City who have come into contact with these tribesmen to be a primitive, pared-down sort of demon; other, more cynical individuals postulate that the Puacca is nothing but the product of the active native imagination. Special offerings are often made to the Birdpeople by the more devout Savages, requesting that their golden-feathered gods get rid of the alleged threat as soon as possible. They gather that the Puacca is male because every now and again, when their animals give birth, one or more young are deformed in some way, having the head of one animal and the body of another perhaps, and these runts are good for nothing at all, for they screech, never ending, never stopping, till they die due to lack of sustenance (though some have been exhibited as curiosities in the City, usually under the name of demonspawn).
The Puacca runs (or slithers, or crawls, or swims) howling (or screeching, or shrieking, or hissing) through the jungle every half-moon night without fail. Despite his generally vacillating nature, he seems to be most punctual and methodical about these twice-monthly runs. Both intrigued and intimidated by the City, and perhaps repelled by the appalling morals of its citizens, he lurks frequently on its fringes, but comes not nearer.

Other: Does not speak any recognizable human or humanoid language (though for convenience's sake his posts shall be rendered in plain English.)

[Bulbasaur4]

Name – Wanderer Who Does Not Face Sky, but those who are not of the Savage lineage mostly simply call him, “The Watcher”

Gender -Male

Appearance – Watcher’s most comfortable and “at home” in his more or less wolven form. His size is built much like an oversized fox, and indeed he isn’t as thick as say, a Timber Wolf but rather his muzzle is a tad more sleek and his frame built more in favor of grace than strength. With this in mind, his coat often brings to mind the idea of winter because his coat is simply thicker than one would perhaps want in a Jungle-like climate. Yet, Watcher doesn’t seem bothered by this, or rather he doesn’t show that he’s bothered by the thickness of his silk-like fur. His fur itself is a reddish fox-like auburn, but deeper than one would deem for a fox. Within the auburn mixture are little flecks or patches of gold-colored fur as well. However, on his underside belly and legs the fur fades away to be pure white, but usually its vibrant color is muddied or soiled in some way.
More notable features are his paws, which are particularily large and padded to help him with his nimble movements and to gain his footing. His tail is also particularily fox-like, being rather bushy and the object of jealousy for most wolves. His ears and the tip of his tail are covered in the same auburn fur as the rest of his body, however it darkens considerably to give a rustic copper look, and this same color stretches from his ears to the top half of his face to give him a ‘mask’ appearance, but it dramatically goes back to his regular golden auburn color upon the sides of his muzzle and face.. etc. Lastly, his eyes are not gold but olive-hued green but contain the same penetrating wolven gaze as most canine creatures do. He also has an old, worn rustic ring upon his right ear that looks to be an earring of some sort- but most likely not something he adores.

Watcher’s “uncomfortable” form would be, predictably enough, a humanoid form. While in this form he looks mostly humanoid, but brings with him from his comfortable form his tail and ears and his hungry wolfish eyes.
Otherwise, he stands at a youthfully tall 6’4 and while he is not quite abnormally skinny, he is trim and noticeably thin. His hair is rather wild and unkept, reaching down halfway between his shoulder blades and hips, and he rarely does much to it because of how unfamiliar it feels and smells. His hair does have some bangs however that brush in front of his eyes, mirroring the long strands of golden-auburn hair that drapes along the side of his face as well (the color, of course, mirrors his coat.) His skin is tan, blending in nicely with his hair color and accenting the color of his slightly feminine, darkly rimmed green eyes. His lips are darker than his skin, having a faint mixture of bloodied auburn hue, and when brought back reveal his rather eerily glimmering white teeth. Given his wolfish nature, it comes to no surprise that his canines are longer than the rest of his teeth but not quite as obnoxiously as they probably should be, perhaps from his more fox-like side. He has the rather ‘swimmer’ build to him, having wide broad shoulders and a slender thin waist in comparison to the entirety of his body. All in all, when one glances at him he appears to be perhaps taller than he actually is… for the build of his body accents the length of both his torso and legs, which seem longer but when placed together only achieve his given height.
It is important to note, that if Watcher goes into his human form… he does not have clothes, and thus either has some prepared or he just walks around stark naked. He often forgets (showing how often he is found in this form) that clothing is the normal thing every humanoid should have and that being naked is not the appropriate outfit of choice.


Personality – Watcher is, in one word, oblivious and lazy. He has no reservations about where he goes or what he does, and generally roams without much fear either out of stupidity or out of confidence in his own abilities. Because of this, the locals who reside around the more Victorian-esque parts do not act surprise or cry out in shock if they find his lazy body rolled out upon one of their doorways or perhaps slumped against the side of their home. On a few occasions he is found upon rooftops or against windowsills, but not quite as often as he is found laying simply in the middle of a dirt road in the middle of the day.
Watcher does not seem openly hostile towards anyone and frankly seems to care little about what others do around him. As long as he is not brought into a fray or is not openly harmed, he usually doesn’t raise a paw or hand to move unless a real need arises. He occasionally steals from the locals out of sheer laziness rather than hunt, although he has killed deer and other such animals but rarely. He also idly walks about in random parts of inhabited parts, and while he is lazy he does always seem to relax with his eyes open. Like a hawk he always seems to have his eyes resting upon everyone, giving many creatures the feeling as if he were only watching them. While he is oblivious- highly oblivious- to personality flaws, relationship rules, and other more emotionally-bound things, he is all too keenly in tune with the more physical and practical world. Well, practical in his standards.

Abilities – He carries the ability to shift between his human and wolven forms at will, however he can be ‘forced’ into his human form if he is hit harshly upon the head by blunt, solid objects (so spells do not count). Other abilities are unknown, due to the fact he’s kept pretty much out of any dispute or any ordeal that would require using any ability.

Background – Watcher’s past is pretty vague… and he usually is too lazy to recall it anyways. As far as any local would know, or anyone who has been around a while, Watcher has always been wandering upon the island close to the City but has been seen almost everywhere at one point or another.

Other - - - - - -
Roleplaying Sample – Edit this lata.

[Plantae]

Your changes are duly noted, Emotional Faun Chiko-sai, and as with some others, it goes almost without saying that both forms are accepted.

Also, welcome Bulbasaur4; it is pleasant to see another fresh face in this sequel, especially one of your role-playing caliber. This is also my way of saying that since everyone is dropping it as it is, feel free to skip editing in that sample. Your character is sanctioned, endorsed, authorized, and other such synonyms, including approved. Also note the private message which should arrive shortly.

[Weasel Overlord]

Numero dos...

Name: Sirin Ito-ku
Gender: Female
Age: Indeterminable
Appearance: Sirin, in her human form, appears as a tall, slender woman with wild, pitch black hair. Her eyes are creamy pale, and almost colourless with a reflective hue and near indistinguishable pupils. Strapped to her wrists with torn strips of navy canvas are perfect waxen feathers moulded from the creamy tallow of undyed wax. The veins of each feather are painted a different colour, varying from hues of deepest purple to palest, insubstantial blue and darkest, impenetrable black. These feathers are also strewn in Sirin’s wild hair, caught in a dangling web of slender black hairs.

About her body, she is swathed in a plain, cream linen tunic which is slung carelessly and knotted at the shoulder like a toga. Her features are soothing and the picture of calm, but with a touch of darkness in her eyes that can be terrifying to look upon when it sparks through.

The night-time, however, is when her true form shows through. Her ears elongate, as does her nose until it resembles a trunk. Her body shortens and gains heavy muscle and her senses increase to the point where she can see the very essence of dreams. Her fingernails become hard black claws, and she loses all sense of language, communicating in a whispery voice not dissimilar to that of dolphins, only it’s less high-pitched, and more soft and wavery. About her face, her hair gathers like that of a lion’s mane, but it is a soft coal black mingled with a pale green and blue. Just above her lips, a pair of tusk-like horns protrude. They are midnight black in colour, just like her hair at day.

She still walks on two legs, but her stature is heavily diminished; almost as if she has shrunk in height to make up for the appearance of new muscle and sinew. Although she looks, well, freaky at night, Sirin Ito-ku is a benevolent spirit, albeit driven slightly mad by her devouring of the terrible nightmares of the Jungle denizens.

Personality: Sirin Ito-ku is as unpredictable as the ocean and as insubstantial as a dream; there one minute, gone the next. She lives her life in the jungle as a nomad, surviving on the fitful dreams of its inhabitants who invoke her name to keep them safe from the nightmares that can become so real in that terrible place.

She has a fondness for talking in riddles during the day, and depending on what mood she’s in, she might not even say anything at all, or she might be as talkative as… a talkative person. Only thing is, she doesn’t tend to make sense, so even if she is in a talkative mood, she might as well not be saying anything, or be talking in riddles.

She takes her task very seriously, but she also hates it with every fibre of her being. Her purpose is to keep the Jungle inhabitants safe from their dreams, but in taking them into herself, she puts herself at danger. She is highly aware of the good she does, and the love some have for her; yet it is constantly at odds with her equal awareness of her declining sanity.

As soon as darkness falls, she is dragged into transformation, bones shortening, muscle density increasing, skin splitting to allow for her tusks, and then as soon as the first rays of morning light hit her, she lengthens back into her human form. Each transformation is agony, and certainly highly unpleasant to see for anyone who might be nearby. Because of this, she prefers to be alone at dusk and dawn.

Other: As the boundaries between reality and the world of dreaming are increasingly blurred, the powers of Sirin Ito-ku are also blurred. She takes in the nightmares of the jungles inhabitants as she would any normal unwanted dream, but the magical nature of the place makes these dreams all the more dangerous. As such, the dreams change Ito-ku during the night as she is overcome by conflicting realties. As a result of the constant warring of dreams and reality within her, Sirin Ito-ku is almost completely mad. Anything she says must be taken with not just a pinch of salt, but an entire barrel as she lives half in the waking world and half in the dreaming world.
EDIT: I took my version of the Baku spirit from Amano's rendering of them.

[Plantae]

I like Sirin Ito-ku's character concept exponentially; persuaded by your link, I also researched the original Baku inspiration. In any case, your form is expressly approved.

I am going to give another several days for the thread, and then this will start.

[Plantae]

Expect the thread up by tomorrow, perhaps around, say, six o'clock, Central Standard Time. Please excuse me for any perceived delay.

[darktyranitar]

Ah. Alright. Points taken; I guess I missed out the town part.

[Weasel Overlord]

Heeeere's TRYFAN!! *ahem* Expect postage to follow shortlement, as soon as it be finished. ^_^

Name: Tryfan Wen
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tryfan has pure white hair, shot through with strands of varying shades of grey to a deeper, forest green hue. This hair, while noted to be strange to most people, is much beloved by Tryfan; although he leaves it untamed to the point that his head rather resembles some sort of wild bush which drapes over his eyes in a roguish fashion. From under this bush-like structure, a pair of wickedly sharp green eyes peer, surprisingly able to see quite well despite the large obstruction. Since his arrival in the River world, his hair has taken on a more greenish tinge, as if it is trying to blend in better with it’s surroundings. As he obviously has no hair dye to hand, some people might find this strange.
His eyebrows, while mostly hidden, resemble his hair in the fact that they are mostly green.
Tryfan stands at nearly six foot tall, his hair gives him an extra few inches! He prefers to walk barefooted, even on stony ground, and because of this, he has developed extremely tough feet...calluses and all! This means he can walk through even the thorniest of areas and not bleed, always an advantage in thorny forests!
Underneath his hair, Tryfan has a long, thin scar that runs from his forehead to the tip of his nosie...he has no memory of where this scar came from.
He wears a rough shirt of dark green canvas, which has a multitude of rips and tears about it giving him a very ragamuffin appearance, which is only enhanced by the fact that it is left open except for the bottom two buttons, which are the only two left. His trousers are made of the same rough material, and were probably black at some point, but they have faded and been encrusted in mud so often that they are now a lovely muddy brown. He sawed off the bottom of his trousers to about the knees for ease of movement, and to use the material as some sort of bandaging for his hands, which used to be constantly scratched and torn, although they are less so now; as out of sheer self-defence they have grown enough callus to make Tryfan near impervious to any thorns or bites.
Personality: Tryfan, before he came to the River world, felt as out-of-place as a butterfly in hell. However, as soon as he arrived, he changed for the better almost immediately. By the River standards, he is the friendliest person you’ll meet, but he’s not afraid to speak his mind if the situation calls for it, and he can be sarcastic if the mood strikes him.
Clearly smitten with Lily, he will do anything to make sure that she is safe, including putting himself in danger to save her. He is single-minded in his feelings for the Jungle and in his affection for Lily, and anything he does can usually be traced back to have some benefit for either of those two.
He will never intentionally harm any living animal of the Jungle unless needs call for it, like hunting for food; Tryfan would never, ever hunt for sport, and he knows where to find the edible mushrooms, roots and plants to sustain himself and the other humans. If he was left alone in the Jungle, he would be completely self-sufficient, relying only upon his forestwalking skills to survive.
Abilities: Tryfan has a strange ability to commune with natural beings, be they animals or plants. He can sense their feelings and emotions and even respond in their simple but varying languages. This ability allows Tryfan to move through forests and woodlands as if he were part of their very structure. He blends into the background and leaves no footprints wherever he goes.
Background: Being one of the original group of humans from the Jungle, he naturally shares a bond with the rest of the group, and this can be said especially for his relationship with Lily, the shapeshifter.
About his time before the Jungle, Tryfan will not talk, preferring only to say that it was not a time he was comfortable in, and that he lives only in the present, and the now, as a good forestwalker should.
Other: Tryfan’s age is guessable at around 20 but no one is sure exactly how old he is as he never actually mentions the fact.
Tryf’s weapon is a double-ended spear, tied where the blades meet the shaft with deep green ribbons which he can always be seen carrying. After his time in the Jungle, he’s learnt to always have his spear close by.
click

[Asilynne]

Name - "Young" Lily O'Keefe
Gender - Female
Appearance - Red-gold hair that is long for her size, down to her mid back. She has taken to braiding a section of her hair on each side and tying the braids behind her head. Vivid green eyes that take in the world weighing, measuring. Though her face is childlike in basic appearance, the air about her tells of her being wise beyond her supposed years. She wears clothes made out of her former, adult clothes but tailored to fit decently. Often wears a flower or something in her hair.
Personality - Adult Lily was a frustrated 20something year old, impatient with her former life and wanting something more, knew there was more to life than wasting away in an office, something better than a 10th story condo, with everything in its place. Adult Lily had forgotten what it was like to be Young Lily until she began to wonder what had happened to her former self's faith in herself, and so changed into Young Lily. Young Lily is Lily's essence of spirit, how she was before growing up and the hardships in her life disillusioned her and made her doubt herself. Young Lily is full of confidence, she knows the right way of things and wont settle for less. Like Adult Lily, Young Lily is quiet and thoughtful, but she is also more optimistic about events and her ability to make them better.
Abilities - When she first came to the River, she discovered her power was that she could attain the form of any living being, whether fanciful or real. At first she didnt know the limits so she kept to things she knew, such as the form of a pet parrot she had when she was young and the form of the wolf in her dreams, to things she didnt even know had life, such as fire. The power wasnt limited to time either, as the form she is now proves; the form of herself as a young girl.
Background - One night she sat alone in her condo, the lights off, and meditated upon the place she always went inside her head to get away from the stresses of daily life---and suddenly she was there in the flesh. The River. But she wasnt alone as she and a band of refugees from the normal world found themselves in a strange world where reality could be bent and broken. There she discovered powers and creatures she never found possible, and it was also there that she met Tryfan, a man as attuned to nature as she had been as a young girl, but even more so due to the rivers strange effect on the newcomers. he called to an inner part of herselt that she had lost long ago, and because of the ear and stress of the time she wished she had not lost the wisdom of long ago--and inavertantly changed herself into Young Lily, the time in her life when she never knew fear, worry or the words "I cant". But the loss of the little fire child that Lily befriended as an adult hurt just as much for Young Lily, and though its uncertain if she is dead or not Lily is determined to find her whereabouts and see her to safety. Lily's current form makes it difficult for Tryfan to express his feelings for her, and although she shares them she is afraid of her strong feelings for him and also believes that she is needed as Young Lily more at this moment. (I needs to talk to the Weaseled One about Tryfy baby XD) Shes afraid that Adult Lily's lower confidence level might cause others around her to be lost as the fire child was.
Other - Its physically possible for her to become Adult Lily (or any form) again, but atm she is unwilling to recognise it. On her right arm she has a small silver tattoo of an arrow and a crescent moon, where her crossbow will be whenever she goes back into her normal form.
Roleplaying Sample - You know my posts from the River Plantae

Once Im approved and I have a chance to talk to weasel Ill go ahead and post

[Drusilla]

I'm late, as usual... Hopefully, not too late...

Name- Sara Raize
Gender- Female
Appearance - She still stands at five feet, eight inches in height, but her body has a hint of substantialness to it, as if it has become little more than a shell. Her eyes are a blue so light that the color is only noticeable if one looks very closely; an extremely fine ring of dark blue separates her iris from the white. Her hair is the same rich red color, but has a dull sheen to it, as though it has been dead for some time. Once, her form was curvaceous, though no more; she has the appearance of one who has lost too much weight in too short a time. Her skin is extremely pale, and very thin in places, such as her wrists and inner elbows, making it all too easy to see her veins, which stand out in contrast as black lines in her flesh. A haunted, hungry expression is visible on her face much of the time, much like one who has seen much trauma in her life. Once perfect clothes are now too big for her, and are torn or downright shredded; they are the remains of a long-sleeved button up blouse and skirt set, both of black satin. Her boots are long gone, yet her feet show no sign of wear.
Personality - Her inner demons have overpowered her, and haunt her every conscious moment. Outwardly, she lacks any strong emotion, and comes across as a quiet and dull creature. She is unsure herself of who, or what, she is... and that makes her unpredictable.
Abilities - Spirit and mind; she excels at making "suggestions" in people's thoughts. It's not quite mind control, but she can persistently cause mental pictures and/or ideas to run through someone's mind.
Background - Once a whore in a large city tied to an abusive home life, one night she just ran.. and ran... and found a River. That night changed her life. Haunted by memories that, at the time, she repressed, she found safety in shadow, and that shadow came to her, making her something less than human but more than shadow itself. Now, she lies trapped between two worlds, tied to one by hunger for life, tied to the other by fear of death.
Other - She still has the stiletto that she found after arriving in this world.
Roleplaying Sample - You know me from The River... but just to follow protocol... My first post in Nethermorphs

[Plantae]

This isn't so much an approval as a "welcome back" to those three character forms, but nonetheless, you are all accepted. I am eager, given the old gang is back together, and am thus off to finish my own in-the-works post.

[Plantae]

Go ahead and skip the role-playing sample; your "Noble Savages" idea is acceptable, and the Puacca is approved. Your character-hopping style of role-playing is as allowed as it was last time. Besides, I will probably be doing the same.

[Pichu Luver]

Here's my sign uppers . .


Name - Ashoka (without sorrow) but now calls himself Rajnish (lord of the night)
Gender - Male
Appearance - Similar to the oldest descriptions of a unicorn. From a distance you might think horse but on closer inspection the similarities are minimal. He is no more then five feet at the withers (basically his back), in a horse this would be right on the boarder between horse and pony. However he is actually one of the taller members of his species. He is also quite thin, his body shape like that of Arabian. His mane is very long and thick and runs down his neck past his withers to his back. It is nearly two feet long, slowly tapering to one foot where it ends just in front of his back. His tail is akin to a lions but is so long to be only slightly shorter then his body. Some of the hair runs up from the tuff to the middle of his tail, getting progressively thinner until it disappears. His feet are cloven like a goats and he has feathers running up the back of his legs to his knees and hocks. He also has a beard and for his species it is a middling length (a little longer then a human hand), showing him to be in his 40's if comparing him to human ages.
His coat is a dazzling silvery grey that glows in the moonlight. It darkens to a very dark grey on his lower legs and on his head. His ears are dark on the base but lighten at the tips. A silvery grey blaze runs down from his horn to the tip of his muzzle. From the cheeks down his face is the dark grey but above it fades to the silvery grey on his neck. His mane, feathers and tail hair are he same dark grey but it they are covered by a thin layer of silver. His cloven feet are a mirror black. His horn is extremely long to be almost a metre in length. It is silver but is translucent and at times you can see a very pale blue light to be glowing within it.
Personality - He seems to perpetually angry at the world and has no interest in anyone else but himself. He doesn't use people, but he probably won't help them either. Unless they are for the most part a good person, and they were in dire straights. He is a very solitary creature and if he must be in a group, he won't say much. Say many happy things that is, he is quite happy to say just how dumb you are, how a plan could have done better and so on. He has no friends, doesn't want any and will probably only travel with someone if it will help a large group of people. If it's for your own needs, and he finds out, he has no qualms about goring you. He doesn't seem to care too much about killing people and has very little in the way of mercy.
He is very bitter but is not too sarcastic; he tells it how it is. If he gets into a fight, and you're on his side you don't have to worry about him being where he needs to be. He is very dependable in that respect. If he does meet someone who is pure of heart, he will protect them like he would his own foal. They are about the only person he could ever get close to.
Abilities - His has abnormally high strength, speed and agility for an animal of his size. He can easily carry three full-grown people on his back for a great length of time. His top, flat out running speed is around 140 kph (85 mph) but his average running is around 100 kph (60 mph). At this speed he is quite nimble and can keep it up near to all day. He does not run like a horse however but leaps, and until you are used to it is very hard to sit to.
His horn can cleanse any liquid for drinking and (pending your approval) kill demons with a single pinprick (ONLY while it is attached to their head otherwise, it will just glow if its poisonous and is a rather strong sword but has no other effect on demons). HOWEVER Demons in turn are the only creatures that can snap off their horn, this kills them instantly. Other wise, it's like you hitting a steel beam with a stick, nothin is going to happen to the beam.
Naturally this has put them somewhat at odds with demons and so they keep for the most part out of each other's way. Being an inherently magical creature he can, and only with his expressed will, allow someone with magical abilities to use his large reservoir of energy for their magic's.
Background - Quite simply he doesn't talk about it. He doesn't see the point. However is he must or was in a weird mood he'd say he's lived in the forest all his life, and once lived a herd that lived close to the wall. He left them a long time ago and now wanders through the forest simply watching the world go by. Quite removed from the goings on but he has heard from various denizens of the forest of what has happened to Zhila and the wall. He was (so he hates to admit to himself) curious and so headed there to see for himself.
Other - If he starts to gain more hope/happiness (or conversely looses it) he'll go back to being a silvery grey colour like most unicorns. If however he is full of more sorrow, anger or hate he will grow darker in colour. Depending on what colour he is, when people look upon him he inspires hope and courage when silver or despair and fear when dark grey.
Right now anyone can touch or ride him. If he was silver ONLY someone pure of heart could do so. When dark grey, ONLY someone who is utterly vile can. Either way he keeps about twenty metres from the opposite of who can approach him. When someone who is not touches him, it's like a mental itch (like when you have a tickle in the back of you throat you just can't get at). Depending on the person in question it slowly becomes painful until it is like a torture. Also depending on the person in question, the pain can happen quicker or be immediate.
If he becomes dark, a good person can turn him back, but only after inflicting excruciating amounts of pain on him by staying with him. Then he'll slowly go back to the half and half colour. If however he is silver and someone who is evil stays with him, it will kill him.
Roleplaying Sample - It's much more comedic then this character will be but here is one I thought was written well.

[Plantae]

You already know my thoughts on your well-composed character, River. You are henceforth accepted, and welcome.

[Weasel Overlord]

My last two sign-ups will be a bit late, since the monitor on my pc's broken and all my files are on there. Planty-pie, could you send me my Sirin sign-up if you still have it? Then I can finish it off and post that one up at least. ^_^

[Dr.McNinja]

Name – Erwyne

Gender - Female

Appearance – Erwyne would be considered below average height for a human, but overall her body is more or less that of an attractive human female in her early to mid twenties. Her hair is made up of almost every shade of brown that one could think of and is worn extremely long, hanging down to her mid-calves. Her skin is extremely tan, and her eye color seems to shift between the seasons depending on her mood, ranging from the vivid green of spring to the icy blue of winter. She is leanly muscled as befits one who spends their entire existence surviving in nature. Her subtly pointed ears, coming to a point near their apex though not significantly elongated, indicate her inhuman nature as do her sharp, slightly overlong, canines that are exposed when she smiles or speaks. Her legs also seem to be structured slightly different than a human’s as she almost always walks on solely the front part of her foot, her heel raised up from the ground. When she runs she tends to take long, leaping strides appropriate for her footing. Erwyne is always completely naked, though since her material transformation tend to smooth all her features, it usually looks like she is wearing something of a body sheathe most of the time (albeit made of wood, stone, etc).

Personality – Erwyne possess two personality traits that, when combined, tend to get her into situations she would rather avoid. Firstly, she is quite shy even with those she is acquainted with though even more so with those who are new to her. Secondly, she is irrepressibly curious, though her shyness usually forces her to resort to an observer’s role in things that interest her. It is when she is called out that she finds herself at a disadvantage, her shyness preventing her from fulfilling her curiosity sufficiently but her curiosity preventing her from simply leaving when things become awkward. She is quite well-spoken when she decides to say something, and the fact that she tends to silently observe a situation for along time before feeling comfortable enough to speak sometimes gives her insight that others might miss as they move to act. She is less inclined to be quiet around the few that she trusts and understands however. Erwyne is inherently kind though she has been known to strike a nerve with her observations once and a while, unintentionally on her part.

Abilities – As a Dryad, Erwyne is unnaturally attuned to the inanimate objects of the jungle. She is able to feel the subdued spirits of the trees, rocks, even the soil. These aspects of the jungle tend to respond to her desires, though very rarely in any overt fashion. An example might be a tree shifting its branches slightly to hide her position, or two rocks tapping lightly together to distract a hunter. More prominent than this ability is her innate power to change her physical makeup into any natural material she has had time to study and understand. The change is complete, everything external and internal is transformed into whatever material she desires (wood, rock, plant material etc). While in this form Erwyne can manipulate her body in ways restricted only by the material (she might be able to turn her arms into rather long vines as a plant but barely be able to shift anything as rock for example). Erwyne almost always has some material form other than her own simply due to the fact that she feels closer to nature that way, and also as a way to conceal herself if necessary.

Background – Erwyne was born from the jungle and has lived in the jungle all of her life. She knows the jungle quite well in her wanderings of it, and knows most of the main landmarks in it quite well such as the City, though she has never been inside it, and many of the Savage settlements. She is not sure if she is the only Dryad in the jungle, she knows little about her own reason of origin or her purpose for existing, but she has never seen evidence of another. Most of those who actually live in the jungle know of her, such as Ashoka or The Watcher, and those who have not acted significantly hostile to her have probably interacted with her on some level before. Although she looks to be in her early to late twenties, she is actually quite young, barely in her 11th year though her maturity assuredly matches her appearance.

Other – Due to her nature and the fact that she is usually made up of materials from the forest itself, Erwyne is almost impossible to track by smell alone.

Roleplaying Sample –

http://www.pokemasters.net/forums/sh...19711#poststop

[Plantae]

Erwyne is most lovely. You are, of course, accepted. You may wish to note: there has been at least one other "dryad" of sorts, Eleiamae (of Weasel Overlord) in "The River," but whether this means anything to you, I wouldn't know. You may also wish to deal with the fact that your form seems to have multiplied.