Got it! I'll have it upgraded to 2.0 by Monday. Thanks for the feedback
Got it! I'll have it upgraded to 2.0 by Monday. Thanks for the feedback
Thank you, Nara
No problem.
I see you Minkasha.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around, how none of these existed, and then suddenly they all exist. So that makes everyone wrong. And, how has the universe not exploded after this very confusing philosophical paradox has occurred?”
Name: Artair [Au as in Austin and Tear, as in to tear something] Nicolai Schlachter <- clik the thingy to hear how it's pronounced
Role: Existential Nihilism
Age: 26
Gender ID- Comfortable Male
Sexual ID- Pansexual
Marital Status: Married - 4 years with formely known Mable Iris Norton now Mable Iris Schlachter. They currently do not have any children. But have two cats Juniper and Phelix.
Appearance:
Standing at 5’8” this man is swallowed by a green trench coat that doesn’t look like it even fits or belongs to him, you’d be correct in your assumptions. He’s thin faced with a tired expression, will often times been seen wearing a gray, worn baseball cap over his crew cut. He has brain hair and is as white as a cracker. He’s often seen smoking or smelling of tobacco or sometimes he has the signature smoker’s cough.
Spoiler: Enjoying a Walk
Personality:
Cynical is a word a lot of people who don’t know him use, cynical, selfish, rude, self righteous, with a God complex, thinks he’s better than everyone else. Mable sees something different, someone selfless, someone who is transparent and can see right through Artair. She’s a selfless, idealistic, hopeless man, who's too optimistic for his one good it gets all twisted in his head into cynicism because he cannot meet his own expectations.
Perfectionist and a control freak is another description you could consider him. Control is the way he organizes things. Unlike most men who are robotic, taught to not feel, Artair is actually extremely emotional. His need for control, and taking control of things is how he maintains, copes and keeps his emotions hidden. Except to Mable. Who sees directly through his attempt.
Mable the main breadwinner. She has a job. Has stable finances. He’s been in and out of employment. In and out of hospitals as well. But at least he has one supporter. That’s Mable if you’re not getting it yet.
He’s often alone. Socially isolated. But by no means is he depressing, quiet, or a debbie downer. It’s funny how one man symbolize so much duality. He’s funny, exciting, intelligent, engrossing to those who do know him. He smiles. He seems happy and thoroughly enjoys life. Though alone he’s a different man. An interpersonal man. Tired of people. Tired of the world. Angry. Frustrated. He never takes it out on Mable of course. But he’s tearing apart it seems.
This is where all of his beliefs stem from. Riddled. Suffering from Chronic Depression and assortment of other things. He found that if he stopped searching for a meaning in life and gave himself the ability to craft his own meaning, that was one way to combat his depression. By giving himself a meaning he needn’t think so much on what little meaning he had.
For him Nihilism gave him some kind of hope.
Still he suffers with addictions. On and off again smoker. Dealt with alcoholism in the past. Dealt with the death of family before. He never wants to take what is personally him, what is weighing him down onto people.
He tries to be an empathetic person. Who can love. Support the people he cares for. He still doesn’t always see the meaning in “I appreciate that” or “Thank you”. But he’s a man with a strange duality to his presence for those who meet him.
He loves the first morning smoke. Cats. Well all animals. He loves long walks, sometimes fantasizes about just going on a long walk and never returning. Yet, ironically, he hates giving up. Refuses to give into suicidal ideation and refuses to let someone spout nonsense to him to help heal him.
He’s becoming confident in the idea that he has no meaning or purpose from a higher being. That was until zombies, demons, eldritch horrors, and other fucking shit started walking around.
Powers:
Demoralizing - He can give a philosophical spanking with words, that makes a creature realizes its non importance in the universe and how taking over the world will be pointless. This is an absolute power. Based on if he can persuade them or not.
Aura of Pity- A passive ability, but creatures around him, may have a chance to feel pity for him and completely give up the fight.
Hurt Feelings- Sometimes during a verbal philosophical speaking to, he may actually hurt these creatures feelings. They automatically lose the battle due to uncontrollable tears.
Equipment: A fresh pack of cigarettes, his wallet, house keys, his cellphone, and his to do list
History:
Being born worthless, now there’s a concept right there. I’m all kinds of sick and cliche, yet I’m alright with that. Now more than I was before. I am gaining a bit more understanding of who I am. Not fair to Mable though that she’s the only person I got to talk to.
Someone once told me I was the type of person people either write off right away or get to know and I like. So I suppose that’s correct. I’m like social cancer. Suppose I am okay with that now more than I was before.
I grew up poor. I mean the kind of poor where you put mustard on two pieces of slice bread, no lunch meat, and call it a fucking sandwich. The kind of poor where dad was in and out of the iron bars. And mom slept around for extra money while working as a clerk at a convenience store.
Guess that’s where I learned most of the roots of my Depression and nasty head stuff. I was always told that I wouldn’t amount to a shit streak on underwear, I am paraphrasing. I was always told, in nice ways how I was a burden and wasn’t exactly the way people wanted me to be.
At seventeen, I drowned all that stuff away in self destructive feats. I am nothing new. Nothing special. I already recognize that. This is who I am good at being at. Because it’s familiar to me. And I recognize that I don’t always challenge myself in these moments. Doing anything new. But change doesn’t excite me nor motivate me.
Which means I am guess I am stuck in a rich text of fucking circles. I use to have an older brother. That’s when all the self destruction started to happen. He got drafted, no actually the son of a bitch decided he was going to join the military. Got pulled into the Afghan, Iraq bullshit, and he died serving. He died honorably son. They say it proud.
A bunch of diplomatic bullshit in my personal opinion. That was hard. Because I was neglected further than what I had been neglected. My mother never looked at me the same way she did before. I mean she still looked at me like I was the living, breathing equivalent of after birth. What I mean was it’s when I became invisible.
Not just existent and not wanted. Invisible. So I drank to oblivion. The kids at school thought, you know I was becoming a man. I was just sad and hurt inside. Still am. But people don’t see that side of me. They see this hard personality. Rough around the edges. Opinionated. Selfishly so sometimes. And think, there’s a guy who thinks highly of himself.
I drank for four years of my life. Drank myself to oblivion before I tried committing the deed. Because I was young. I was young and searching for a meaning without realizing it was me who needed to give myself meaning all along.
It helps, when you find someone who looks at you. Mable. There’s someone who I respect. I admire. When I was going to rehab, she use to work at a clothing store a block away, but she’d always get coffee at this coffee shop. I use to go after rehab.
Get myself a glass. And here this beautiful woman. Long flowing hair those tight leggings, with those boots I call her ugly boots. I remember striking a conversation up with her. I have the memory of a cow, so I don’t remember the exact conversations we had waiting in long ridiculous lines for cheap tasting overly priced coffee.
I don’t if she pulled it out of me, or one day I just pulled it the fuck out of myself, but I asked her if she’d like to date me. From there we did. She was always a little cautious. Something like that, we dated for about two years. Been together for 4. She’s the thing that keeps me going.
It’s unfair to her. Honestly it is. It must be taxing coming home from her office firm, to deal with me. I honestly hate dealing with me as well.
But honestly I am nothing special. I am just the usual. The same person I always have been. Recreating the same fictionalized narrative of myself I want to be.
Now though something happening outside of myself. The sky suddenly ripped open and became a spitting vortex of shit coming out of it. I’m now in lead of the Social Justice Warriors and I don’t even know how that fucking happened.
Theme Song:
Misc:
Last edited by Mr.Cynic; 03-02-2016 at 04:51 PM.
“So there’s a demon at our door and the sky is spitting fiery vortex of the end of the world,”Name: Mable Iris Schlatcher
“Okay, and? I am trying to get ready,”
“So, this doesn’t change your views at all?”
“No,”
“We still going on our date?”
“Yep,”
“Okay I’ll tell the demon to go away”
Age: 24
Role: Atheism [the irony]
Gender ID - Cisgender Female
Sexual ID- Heteroflexible
Marital Status: Married to Artair
Appearance:
She has the looks of a manic pixie dream girl, with fluttery skirts, with this retro 70s grunge look, with her wild, wavy brown hair. Her green eyes are electrifying and she doesn’t seem to care much for what is fashion forward. She stands close to Artair’s height at 5’7”, long legs, and a quirky sense of beauty. It’s still questionable how a girl like her, became married to a man like that. Hey, more power to her.
Spoiler: Ugly Holiday Sweater Really
Spoiler: Tehehe I got him in a girly sweater
Personality:
Be who you want to be, If God approves. Be a Unique little star, If Others approve. Be a Strong Independent Woman, if The Feminist approve. So she guesses she’s known of those things because despite her dark wardrobe she’s a girly girl. She likes skirts. She likes when Artair takes orders, he doesn’t always, but she appreciates when he does so.
She recognizes that she’s materialistic. Likes to consume and buy herself nice things. You know the typical stereotypical girl stuff. But it wouldn’t be a stereotype if there wasn’t some truth to it. So, what if she behaves like every vapid girl with no brain?
She has a job. A nice desk job at an office. That at times makes her feel worthless. Or that she doesn’t matter. It tires her out, but she enjoys the work she does do. It’s all worth it in her opinion. Some people turn off their brains to watch a movie.
Some people distract themselves with a video game. Everyone has their distractions. Hers is buying useful items, for the fun. And not things like toilet paper. But like a cute sweater for Artair or a cute top for herself. It’s less about the item and more about the memory that will go with the outfit. As in Artair might wear this top on our anniversary.
Or this scarf will remind me of the time, he’ll say something so him.
She’s not vapid. Or shallow or negative. It’s how she expresses her creativity. She’s not a fashion designer, but does she need to be, to create things or ideas with clothes, jewelry, or makeup? She wish all people would understand that.
She’s an intelligent woman who doesn’t get a lot of free time to sit down and draw or write. So she makes the most of it, by going dance, living up some life. She has that right.
She loves music. Clothes. Jewelry. She loves working too. She hates doing housework though. Housework is boring and completely not fun. Artair can be the house bitch, he likes things clean. Fine with her. She especially hates doing dishes. She’ll cook here and there though.
Powers:
Lack of Power- Because she’s an Atheist, she can claim to not believe or give into the demons, zombies, and other creatures. By not giving them power, the creatures feel a sudden unworthiness and commit their own suicide. This is an absolute power, but requires a very powerful key phrase, must be said exactly, “You don’t exist, and you’re not here right now”
It also requires the dismissal hand motion. If they try to argue, “Bye Felicia”
History:
Religion actually was not a favorable subject in my family. Funny because there were enough Christians and Catholics to shove a bible down your throat. You came out of the womb, pop, and they expected you to kind of know and follow it. Too bad they didn’t know would space out during Church time. It all seemed so silly to me. There was no tangible proof. And this boring man spoke in circles for hours. My ass would always hurt and I would always think, there has to be something I could be doing.
I grew up with sisters. They were always kind of bitchest. But I was forced into all the things. The Church plays. The drama clubs at school. Only because they were my sisters and that’s, I guess what non twin sisters did.
My sisters always wanted to be famous or always wanted to be pretty. Do things on the runway. More power to them. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to on a feminist agenda, I didn’t want to because it never interested me. I was always awful at it.
Always been clumsy. Always never remembering my lines. Never knowing where to my put foot, here and there. I was always rhythmically challenged. To my sister's delight to make fun of me when we got home. Joke was on them because I might be the pretty princess who likes pink. But I would rough them up better than a boy would.
Oh I am so dirty and sly.
When I finally left home. Left my home in Virginia, I moved to Seattle. Nice busy city life. Different from the non busy city life. But I was free my sisters. And my parents. Taking college for accounting and business management. I was going to the top, not because Female power. But because that’s what I was good at.
I never felt the need to identify myself as a woman. I was a Woman. And Anything I do automatically becomes womanly.
I think my family always will wonder why I married Artair, I think I wonder that myself sometimes too because he’s so opposite of me. Not all the time, we get along quite well, we’ve gone way past the honeymoon stage. I’ll be honest at first I didn’t really like him. We met at the coffee shop, and yeah our conversations were engaging.
I was concerned at first. A guy recovering from alcoholism and so toxic to himself, might not be the best match. But he grew on me. He calls it his social cancer. When I did know him, he was funny, intelligent, didn’t treat me like everybody else. And I did fall in love.
Now he’s stuck with me. And I guess I am stuck with this end of the world thing too. As a Social Justice Warrior.
Theme Song:
Misc:
I see you too.
I want Absurdism!
Okay. You can have Absurdism if you like. I will reserve it for you
"Reach for the sky, your hand can't touch the clouds but it's a good stretch"
Name: Dylan Gibbs
Gender ID – Gender Neutral
Sexual ID- Heterosexual
Spoiler: Appearance:
Dylan is at the apex of his youth and fitness. Rocking a hard body and a smile on his face that gives confidence, Dylan is visually abundant in rays of sunshine. Standing at 6’2’’ Dylan keeps his hair long enough to go down to the small of his back, the lush mane often flipped back to keep the luscious locks under control.
To accentuate any variety of outfits he wears topless, he throws on a pair of glasses that help keep…his vision clear. They aren’t very fashionable. But they do manage to correct his nearsightedness. In the glare one often sees themselves and not the sparkle of his brown eyes.
Personality:
Dylan likes to tell it like it is. There is so much someone can do, and so much someone can’t do. It’s all about inspiring and then ‘toning it down’ when they try to put too much hope into the big dreams. Life is about goal setting and traveling down that path to get that goal done. If you want to achieve something grand, he’ll be the first to tell you it’ll never happen. But he will also be the first to pat you on the back, smile, and tell you to enjoy the journey.
He studies people and how they function to learn where the human limits are. He exercises intensely to understand what his human limits are, and as a young man of over six feet of height he sets the human standard by his standard. By trade he’s a professional speaker, ready to brighten up your day – so long as it’s not too bright. Then, like the sun, it could not be looked at.
Powers:
Peak Human Condition – Dylan is at the climax of what his body could achieve: body and mind at the highest grade of health possible. Strong, fast, fast thinking, there is no human that can outperform him. But, it is impossible for him to ever ‘push’ himself, if his body strains it simply collapses under the weight of the impossible to overcome.
Inspiration - Dylan can kind of guess what people, zombies, and other sentient beings are capable of. When they strive to do more than what he thinks they can do, he can inspire them to feel incapable and they simply stop trying or aim for significantly less.
History:
Coming from the bumped uglies of a forty pound overweight background singer of southern Cali and a traveling truck driver with a freight heading to Delaware in the morning, Dylan came into this world a single parent child. His mother’s career was a negative spiral: because she believed she could not succeed because of her weight, her anxiety grew, making her weight increase. Dylan lived from moved bedrolls in her various backstage rooms and motels. He was left to watch his mother’s heart cave into her depression as she raised him and as a result never gained much confidence or encouragement from her.
Dylan was left to learn truth, and life, from the streets, to see what could be done in this world after spending a childhood seeing what couldn’t be done. His teen years came through various dangerous bumps with drugs and back ally behaviors that left him ragged and beaten, but the man had a voice of gold.
His life changed when he took advantage of a free one day session from a 24 Hour Fitness and his teenage body suddenly changed from being scrawny in one ran lap, to built and powerful. He had achieved his human potential, leaving the fitness club in amazement at his miracle. Using the social power of his fitness club fan-club, he turned his philosophies of ‘trying’ into liquid gold.
Moving up to Seattle, his life was comfortable before the world ended and he was recruited, as the Peak Condition Human fitness trainer/spokesman, to come in and join the SJWs against the horrors of...everything.
Last edited by Minkasha; 02-28-2016 at 03:58 AM.
Hesitantly.....
very......hesitantly.....
super.....hesitant..........
..........................accepted [?]
I am joining this!
Some updates. I changed Artair's theme song, because I finally found the song I was looking for. Once Devil and I finished her sheet, we will be starting the IC. I figure if we can make the IC look tasty we can get more people to join and if not, I have no qualms that the three of us will be able to complete this RP at some point in time.
I just feel like because people don't necessarily understand the context of this RP, that maybe starting the IC will get more people interested.
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Originally Posted by Minkasha to Clyde
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