forum Gold Chains and Fingertips (Romance) (REBOOT) (Closed, One on One)
Started by @Desvelarse pets
tune

people_alt 2 followers

@Desvelarse pets

The last one failed becuase the person backed out, so im finna start this up again

Essentially, I have multiple other role plays that are like this, but I want to do it again with the character that I have changed a bit! There are two people, a Reaper (who will be my character) and a person. They can be supernatural or not, that is up to whoever joins. The person get’s into a bit of trouble, so they think to try an old spell- one that can summon a rare creature, a Reaper. This person would be able to control who a reaper kills and heals.

Information About my Style of Reaper
Basics
Reapers are ancient beings that live to be around 4000 years old. They age very slowly, which we will see in my character. They are usually found in a certain designated sector that they are unable to leave. Reapers find themselves hunted, because the blood of a Reaper is a white gold like substance that is considered to e very valuable. They are also forcefully Bound to people for the person’s wishes (will explain below).

Abilities
They are able to kill those (usually sinners) and heal others (usually innocents nad non sinners). Though they cannot do it as often as they please and to anyone. They stick to their designated sector. Names will appear on a slip of paper that they all carry, and whether the person should be killed or healed. After a Reaper completes this job, they will cross out the name and be assigned a new one. A Reaper cna also shift into a certain flock of birds, which helps them to travel. They are unable to do this for long periods of time, though. They will also be given a certain weapon that they can take from a tattoo on their body, but the weapon is made of the metal that can kill them.

Binding a Reaper
This is important to remember for this role play. Reapers can be summoned using a very specific spell and symbol. Once that is read, they are immediatly bound to that certain person. The person is able to write the names of who they want healed or killed on the slip of paper, and the Reaper would be forced to complete the task. For a Reaper, it is considered a form of slavery.

How to Trap/Injure/Kill a Reaper
To trap a Reaper requires a symbol drawn that the stand in. If there is a break in the symbol, though, they can get free. To injure or kill a Reaper, it requires a certain metal. They can still get basic wounds that would kill a human, but it would not kill them. If you strike them with the metal good enough, it will kill them. They can be also injured by hurting an innocent. Either way, they will be punished or killed by the high counsel for killing anyone without permission. But if they were to grab an innocent, for example, in a forceful way, the Reaper will be severely burnt on the hand.

Rules

  • Rated MA for sexual situations, blood and gore, and profanity.
  • LGBTQ friendly and preffered.
  • No racist or homophobic comments.
  • Please be descriptive.

Deleted user

May I? Also, is this romance or no? I'm fine with anything, and I'd actually like a little romance, but your call I guess?

Deleted user

Wait, it legit said romance in the title. Lol. Okay, erm…. derp. I guess I just read it too quickly to really notice. Sorry, I'm an idiot. But may I do this?

@Desvelarse pets

It’s all good! And of course! So your character can be whoever, mine is the Reaper and i can paste a character sheet and his sheet here. Note, he does prefer men :)

Deleted user

I can work with that. Sorry for the late reply, today's been crazy for me and it's only going to get crazier, so replied might not be consistent for a little while. Sorry!

Deleted user

I just wanna know what sort of romance this would be, M/M, M/F, F/F, etc?

Deleted user

You said your character preferred men though, so should I make a guy? Idk.

Deleted user

(could I stalk? this sounds awesome)

I'm pretty sure that would be fine?

@Desvelarse pets

Name: Thatcher Wain.
Age: 1928 years, but looks to be around 21-24.
Gender: Male.
Sexuality: Pansexual (prefers males), possibly polygamous.
Species: Reaper.
Appearance: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/617345061395939577/, toned/slender build/features, very tall (around 6’4), black tattoo of the silhouette of a scythe, many scars from previous injuries. Usually wears a black long sleeved button up, fitting black jeans, a black trench coat, nice black shoes, and an iron ring.
Personality: Ambiverted, independent, calm, proper, friendly (when not working), standoff-ish (when working), passionate, affectionate, romantic, generally quiet, almost seems to be emotionless, helpful, extremely protective of loved ones.
Talents: Observation, can understand his hound and other strange languages.
Weaknesses: Showing his feelings, tends to look down on humans/other creatures, not good at keeping what he is a secret, has a soft spot for innocent people and people he thinks need protection.
Background: Developing…
Other: When he was around 636 years old, he found a baby, three headed hound. The hound seemed to be abandoned for being the runt of the litter, so he took her in and raised her. The hound, who he named Nike after the Greek goddess of victory, is now extremely large in size, her heads reaching up to his shoulder and looking almost completely build of muscle.

Deleted user

Name: Ember Wick
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Homosexual
Species: Witch
Appearance: Ember has dark raven curls that come down to his collarbone, serpentine green eyes, and very pale skin. He is tall, lanky, and has a slightly pointy, long nose and high cheekbones.
Personality: Ember is very hard-working and resilient, always ready for anything. He is generally very adaptable, but when he sets his mind to something, he can be very stubborn, and will rarely change his opinion or idea. He tends to bottle up his emotions, though, and will let things fester unnecessarily until he can't handle it any more and essentially blows up.
Talents: Magic, such as spellcasting and potions, among other things. Also is a contortionist, and can bend his body in rather abnormal positions. Although he doesn't do it that often as he sees it as weird.
Weaknesses: Letting things fester, stubborn, a temper.
Background: Ember essentially lived a normal life…. at least until, at the age of fourteen, his father committed suicide, and his mother fell gravely ill. Having to support both himself and his younger sister, he took over the family business of freelance exorcism, while his sister manages the family shop (magical artifacts, potions, spells, that sort of thing).
Other: Has a familiar, a black cat named Pebbles.

Is my character alright? I didn't have much time to write stuff down for his profile, bit busy, sorry.

Deleted user

(Right)
Ember looked over to his sleeping, unearthly pale mother. "I'm sorry, Mama. What I'm about to do…. but for you. Forgive me, please." he whispered, gently brushing a strand of curly, grey hair from her sallow, sunken, tired eyes, and kissing her forehead. He then tiptoed through the house, eventually coming to an abandoned cellar. There were three rooms nobody ever entered, and this was one. The only real reason they had was that there was an ungodly amount of mildew that no amount of cleaning spells would remove, and it wouldn't work well for storage. There was no point in entering. So this would be the safest place. Ember cleared of a patch of the concrete floor, and took a piece of red chalk from his pocket. He adjusted his rectangular spectacles, then began to draw a symbol on the floor. A very specific symbol. He then recited an incantation, and waited. Please, oh great and powerful goddess Naelia, the goddess of life and death, I beg of you, let this work. he prayed silently, fingering a small silver charm. Naelia's charm. It was the one that had chosen him, after all. She was from that point on, his patron goddess, the one he was generally obligated to pray to for just about everything. That was partially why he chose to continue his father's work. He stated at the symbol on the floor, waiting.

@Desvelarse pets

Thatcher didn’t feel well. The subject was putting up a fight. He considered it to be useless. More specifically, he thought that humans fighting to their last dying breath was a pointless act. The man- a Tyler Alder- had his stomach sliced open by Thatcher’s scythe. Yet the man was still struggling to cover the gaping would and take gasping breaths. He was almost curious of the way that the man fought for every breath he could take.

His eyes flicked away from the dying man and over to the large hound standing impatiently nearby. The three headed hellhound, Nike, was giant seeming. She was up to his shoulders in height, and he stood tall at 6’4. She looked to be built of all muscle, but he knew well that she was just a puppy at heart. Considering that at times she shifted into a moody 13 year old girl with a personality disorder, he thought that ‘preteen’ would be a better word over puppy.

He had been about to finish off the dying man when he felt a jerk on the inside. He let out a gasp before grunting. The force almost forced him to fall, and Nike gave a soft growl. No. He knew exactly what this was. It had happened before many years ago, but he was free. But sure enough, he was suddenly appearing in the circle that appeared to be in a cellar. He appeared disoriented at first, still splattered with the man’s blood. His icy blue eyes snapped to the man standing before him, and he know realized that he was a slave once again.

Deleted user

"Oh my patron goddess, are you alright?!" Ember asked, noticing first thing that the man before him was covered in blood. Just like his father had been when they finally found the body. Ember suddenly felt sick. He shook the memory off, and turned back to the man. Reaper. He wasn't sure if Reapers technically counted as people, having never even seen one before, and only having heard a few stories.

@Desvelarse pets

Thatcher ignored the individual’s question. He looked around, and appeared to be about to step out of the symbol, but there was a force that kept him from doing so. With a gruff noise, he flicked his hand. His scythe should have appeared, but it didn’t.

He turned on the man, his eyes seeming to burn with hatred. “You insolent swine!” he suddenly roared in an enraged tone. This was unnatural. A Reaper should not be controlled by a lowly mortal. “You are lucky that I am unable to slaughter you where you stand,” he growled. But he remembered Nike. She would find him, she always did. She would help him get out of this situation.