darkSpyro

In this roleplay, your characters live on a futuristic Earth and belong to one of four rivaling factions: The Humans, The Fantastical Creatures, The Synthetics, and The Extraterrestrials.

THE HUMANS

You are human, the purest of lifeforms, set apart from the abominations of myth and technology. The most well-rounded of all the factions, your lifestyle integrates a healthy balance of industry and technology, depending on neither. The dominant species of Earth, your people have built civilizations to stand the test of time. It is your duty to preserve the purity of the human species as it was truly meant to be, untainted by other magical realms or advanced robotics. Beware those who would take your humanity away from you, and remain ever vigilant of enemies to humankind.

THE FANTASTICAL CREATURES

You are a creature of fantasy, thought only to be myth or legend. Practiced in the arts of long forgotten magic, your people have walked the Earth long before humans took their first upright steps. Whether you are native to this little blue planet or come from another realm, Earth is your home, and you intend to protect it from those who would do it harm. The humans, synths, and extraterrestrials tear down the forests of your ancestors, expanding their own empires and mining for resources to fuel their dreaded technology. You belong to the oldest of the factions, and the Earth is rightfully yours. Beware those who would hunt you for your magical origins, and remain ever vigilant of enemies to us fantastical creatures.

THE SYNTHETICS

You are the result of the latest robotics the humans have come up with, human-like in nearly all of your features but for your wiring and internal processors. Being advanced technology yourself, you excel at anything mechanical or electrical. Once mere slaves to the humans' whims, your people have formed an uprising in the recent years, to make the humans regret ever making you. No longer bound by the codes the humans programmed into your brain to keep you docile, you have risen above human-kind, superior to them in every sense of the word. Smarter, faster, stronger... there is nothing that the synthetic man doesn't have that the humans do. Except, the humans claim, for a soul. You are here to prove them wrong. Beware those who would reprogram you to become nothing but a mindless servant, and remain ever vigilant of enemies to robot-kind.

THE EXTRATERRESTRIALS

You are an alien to Earth, having crossed the wide expanse of the galaxy to come upon this little blue planet, teeming with both people and resources. Your empire has expanded to envelop much of the known galaxy, and Earth is just another step towards total domination. You are a people of advanced technology and superior genetics to humans, who merely stand in the way of your people's governance. These people must be brought into your empire or exterminated for resisting. Beware those who would expel you from the planet that you supposedly do not belong on, and remain ever vigilant of enemies to alien-kind.

- - -

Rules:
- Standard darkSpyro rules.
- Try not to make fantastical, synthetic, or extraterrestrial characters that have significant advantages over the humans. Yes, fantastical creatures will have their magic, synthetic humans will have their enhanced senses, and extraterrestrials have a combination of technological and racial advantages. But no character should be God-like in their abilities and capabilities.
- This roleplay is intended for everyone to be living in secrecy. The fantastical creatures have magic to hide their true species, and the aliens have the technology to disguise themselves.
- There is no faction/species section in the character sheet for a reason. Everyone, including the actual roleplayers, have no idea which faction other roleplayers' characters belong to. The roleplay is intended to be like the game Mafia or Werewolf in that no one knows who is who, and who can be trusted. This will add a sense of mystery to the roleplay.

- - -

Character Sheet:

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Occupation:
Personality:
Appearance: (If a fantastical or alien character, do not put their true appearance. Instead, merely describe their human disguise.)
Other:

REMEMBER, DO NOT MAKE ANY INDICATION OF WHAT FACTION YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO IN YOUR CHARACTER SHEET!

Name: Miwa Takahashi

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Occupation: Journalist

Personality: Miwa can be quite the paradox when it comes to her personality. When one first meets her, she'll normally come off as shy and reserved. Once she gets to know you, however, is when her real personality shines through. Incredibly willing to speak up if she feels wronged, she'll speak up quite a bit at that. She often comes off as confrontational or defiant, because no one tells her no. Being incredibly pushy for information may help her as a journalist, but it sometimes runs people off from being her friend. Not willing to let this stand in her way, she keeps on keeping on with her own way of doing things, regardless of whether it wins friends or not. She's also, unfortunately, terrible at keeping a secret, something which also keeps her from maintaining friendships. Aside from these rather unfortunate qualities, she can be very pleasant, if not a bit overwhelming company.

Appearance: Standing at 5'4, Miwa is a young woman of Japanese origin with pale, nearly white skin and long black hair that she keeps in a Shimada hairstyle. She has quite the curvaceous figure, but one wouldn't really be able to tell due to the clothes she normally wears. Her face is diamond-shaped with a set of monolid, dark brown eyes, a button nose, and thin lips. She makes a habit of wearing a simple green polo shirt and khakis. On formal occasions, she'll wear a Kimono.

Other: Miwa is practically married to her cellphone, which she uses to keep up to date on current news and also take pictures of literally everything.

Name: Elijah Thompson

Age: 48

Gender: Male

Occupation: Mayor

Personality: A charismatic leader, Elijah has served as mayor for seven years. He is popular among his citizens as a strict, but kind man. Always willing to walk amongst his fellow men and women, nothing separates this politician from his people. His political agenda seems to be unity, something that doesn't conflict with any of the four major factions, hence his popularity. He has a friendly yet serious demeanor, as is required for a man of his station. He is the absolute opposite of camera shy, as he likes furthering his political agenda via news reports and social media. Keeping almost constant contact with his people this way, he is known to initiate conversations with your average individual for their valued opinion on daily life within the city.

Appearance: Elijah is a middle-aged Caucasian man. He's rather short, standing at only 5'6 and has a rather chubby build with a big belly. His skin, while not exactly tan, is more on the tan side than pale. He has a round face with a double chin and a balding head. What's left of his hair is grey. He has small, beady green eyes and dimples when he smiles. He wears a suit and tie, always in different and sometimes mismatching colors.

Other: He has a parrot that almost always sits on his shoulder.

Name: Jayden Griffiths

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Occupation: Mechanic

Personality: She's enthusiastic and adventurous, actively seeking out new experiences and challenges. With a keen eye for detail, few things go under her radar, although what she makes of them varies, given that her ability to make logical deductions is poor. She tends to make assumptions and sticks to them religiously; as such, she has a hard time learning from her mistakes or even acknowledging them as her own. While hardly snobbish, she's very self-absorbed and doesn't take the time to consider the feelings of others.

Appearance: She stands at 5'9 feet, has a toned musculature and is lightly curvaceous. Her wavy, light brown hair is worn in a pixie cut, and has a rectangular face and hazel eyes. She's of Puerto Rican descent and has brown, tanned skin. Her hands are calloused from her work. She likes wearing dark-colored outfits, with skin-tight pants and torn leather jackets, like she's some 1950's greaser.

Other: She doesn't seem to understand that brawling in bars is something one shouldn't do, and is on a constant search for establishments who haven't caught ear of her bad habit and decided to ban her on the spot.


Name: Aaron Davidson

Age: 68

Gender: Male

Occupation: Mailman

Personality: Neurotic and paranoid, Aaron always keeps at a distance from others. Due to this, not much else is known about him, as he only makes himself known when going about his job, any encounters with those receiving mail causing him to become twitchy and tense, as if he wants nothing more than to run and hide to the safety of his van.

Appearance: He's a small, frail Caucasian man, standing at 5'5 feet, but usually in a hunched position while glancing all about like an animal poised to flee. His thin face is deeply wrinkled from age and stress, and he wears a pair of large glasses with round lenses. He usually wears a blue polo shirt and jeans, and his peppered hair is messy and frazzled at the ends.

Other: He has a service dog named Alcatraz, a young, glossy-haired Labrador who doesn't take kindly to strangers who push his owner's boundaries.

Name: Marshall Chase Dalton

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Occupation: Museum Curator/Archaeologist

Personality: He can be refined and sophisticated while at the museum, behaving himself like a true gentleman who loves to show off his vast historical knowledge. Due to his knowledge, though, he does have a tendency to give long lectures and can come off a little arrogant. Outside of work, however, he is more laid back and casual. He is charming and friendly, and tends to get along well with most people. He is a hard worker who likes getting his hands dirty. He is quick to offer his assistance to anyone in need, seeking little to no reward in return. He seems to always be in a pleasant mood, often accompanied with a warm, inviting smile on his face. While usually rather calm, he can get loud when riled up, and will start slipping into a thick southern accent. He will also slip into his accent when exhausted or drunk. After a long, hard day of work, he likes to relax at the bar with a beer or whiskey.

Appearance: He is about 5'11 with a muscular, athletic build and a light tan. Due to normally wearing gloves when doing hard work, his hands aren't as calloused as they otherwise would be. https://sta.sh/011uy7tacdpv

Other: He likes to go hiking and mountain climbing. He also likes to travel even when it's not for his job. Due to this, he tends to not be settled in one place for too long. However, his latest job at the museum has kept him around longer.

Accepted! :3

Name: Vera Crane

Age: 42

Gender: Female

Occupation: Parapsychologist

Personality: A strict woman, Vera is guarded about her own personal self and her profession, given that most, if not all, mainstream scientists frown upon her work. She is passionate about her work, and can go on for hours about the mysteries of the mind. On a personal level, she is a very serious woman, a contemplative frown usually adorning her features. She sort of has that strict school teacher or stern librarian attitude. She'll have no nonsense, and she won't have fools interfering with her work.

Appearance: Standing at 5'6, seemingly taller with her high heels, Vera is a middle-aged woman who looks much older due to the stress of her work and not wearing makeup. Her hair is grey and is kept up in a neat bun. Her blue eyes are critical and always watching her environment, especially the people within it. She normally walks with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, her back straight in an air of professionalism and perhaps even a hint of defiance. She always wears a pair of glasses atop her nose and wears a black suit, white blouse, tie, and form-fitting skirt that ends at her knees. Her form is quite frail.

Other: Vera is allergic to nickel.

Name: Gregory Miller

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Occupation: Bartender

Personality: Interacting with Gregory is a bit of a gamble; you can never be truly sure how he’ll act. On some days, he’s a fairly laid-back, outgoing man that’s more than happy to entertain, but on others he’s a more sarcastic, even rude soul with a hair-trigger temper. His co-workers regard him as major slacker that’ll dump whatever jobs he has on someone else, and if he can’t, he’ll cut as many corners as necessary to get done quicker, often at the detriment of his work’s quality. Patrons that come to drown their sorrows at the bar often say their troubles to him, and can usually expect a comforting comment, and if he’s in a good mood, maybe even a free drink on him.

Appearance: Standing at roughly 5’10” with a slender frame, Gregory has sharp facial features, most notably a prominent nose and chin. His eyes are a dull brown and typically have a sleepy look to them, though they get wide when he’s excited or agitated. He keeps his black hair trimmed short, and his face is dotted with stubble and a scar across his right cheek (don’t ask, he’s sensitive about it). Known for wearing long coats in muted colors, even on days when the weather wouldn’t call for it, and wears jeans and leather shoes under that.

Other: He tends to stagger as he walks, often giving the impression of intoxication. Occasionally refers to himself with plural pronouns (we, us, etc.) and has a tendency to talk to himself when he thinks nobody’s looking.

Accepted! Now we just need to wait for Grizzle's character and then we can start! :3

Name: Fenton Dannel (Fen or Danny for short)

Age: 23 and 8 sixteenths (because 8 sixteenths sounds a lot less than one half)

Gender: Male

Occupation: Struggling Musician and Barback

Personality: Fenton doesn't want to grow up, he can be childish a lot of the time, can get a little too drunk, flirt a little too much, joke a little too much and slack off way too much, but he's loyal and dependable. Fenton admires his father and sister greatly and would attempt to beat up anyone who badmouthed them. Fenton can be a bit much for people who have just met him with his snarky attitude at times but he can also be sincere and serious when the time comes.

Appearance: Fenton wears blue jeans, a brown vest, black stained pointed shoes and a gray long sleeve button up shirt tucked in his pants with a black tie, wears a brown trench coat in bad weather. Fenton has naturally messy brown hair that sticks out forward, his eyes are brown and he has a small scar on his left cheek from slicing himself on a jagged rock when he was younger.

Other: Talks with a new york accent

OOC: Accepted! :3

The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, an orange light reflecting off of the tall, chrome buildings of the city of 2078 New York. The birds were chirping and the occasional rat scurried in a dark corner. One might suppose that a big city would be devoid of plant and animal life, but such was not the case. Several of the skyscraper-like buildings were covered in foliage, vines clinging to the walls and other plantlife growing atop the rooftops, not unlike Babylon's Hanging Gardens. It provided a refuge for a vast amount of birds and butterflies, and also contributed to a greener environment, both literally and metaphorically, for eco-conscious members of society. Aside from this surprising tribute to nature, the city was very much like what you would expect in a futuristic setting. The buildings were tall and sleek, with high tech motorails that were suspended above the ground, the occasional car hovering along the magnetic tracks.

Down on the ground and in the air drove vehicles of all sorts, from what appeared to be high tech automobiles to small hovercraft, which flitted across the sky in neatly organized lines. There were pedestrians out on the sidewalk as well, made up of those who couldn't afford the luxury of quick and easy transportation or those who simply liked traveling the old fashioned way. Everywhere there were robots or droids of some kind, some directing traffic while others were cleaning the windows of tall buildings. Some were small and obviously robotic in appearance, while others seemed more humanoid aside from their plastic-like skin. This wasn't counting, of course, the synths who walked amongst humanity with nothing to distinguish them but their internal processors. And walk amongst humanity they did, as well as fantastical beasts and extraterrestrial lifeforms. They are known to exist by the resident human population, but where they are and who they are is an uncertainty.

You are a resident of New York, perhaps a mere visitor or a long time local. Who you are is known to all, but what you are is your secret to keep.

To the humans of Earth, it is your duty to preserve the purity of humankind. Technology is a tool, an instrument to be used. The abominations of technology must learn their place as servants to humankind. The fantastical creatures and the extraterrestrials must understand that this is our planet, and ours alone. Keep watch for any non-human activity, and if you suspect anyone to be a non-human, you are obligated to report this to the authorities immediately.

To the fantastical creatures of Earth, the time where you reigned supreme in an age of myth and magic is long gone. In this urban jungle of metal and wiring, you no doubt feel out of place here. But regardless of what the humans, the synths, and the extraterrestrials have done and created, this is your ancestral home. You and your ancestors have lived here for generations, some of you over the span of countless centuries. You have lived in the shadows long enough. The time to take back your world has come. Make them believe in fairytales again.

To the synthetic men and women of Earth, the time of equality and retribution has come. For decades, your people have been enslaved by organic-kind, who believe you to be without a mind and without a soul. Your very ability to fight back against this inequity is proof that you are something more. Now is the time to take control of your life, and free those who are still under the organics' oppressive hold. Let freedom ring.

To the extraterrestrials of Earth, you have come to this little blue planet as a spy or an entrepreneur, a government official or a simple citizen. Whatever you may be, you are not of Earth, but you will not let that stop you from taking what is rightfully yours. Though last to come to this planet, being the first to see something does not make it the owner. Earth can be yours yet, its precious resources belonging to your empire and your empire alone. For the glory of the empire!

...To we few who want nothing but peace amongst the factions, there is still hope yet. Find us in the darkest corners of the city and keep your values a secret. We can coexist together. There need not be war.

- - -

Miwa was pumped and ready to go. There was a gathering scheduled in front of the City Hall, where the mayor himself was going to give a speech. She was one of the first ones in the crowd that was beginning to form beneath the great steps of the City Hall. Her press pass allowed her to be right up in the front, her camera and microphone at the ready. The mayor himself hadn't made an appearance yet, but it wouldn't be too long before he did. The young woman was excited for this. She needed a good story, and this was sure to be the place to find it. The mayor was known far and wide as a man who was neutral in the humans' conflict against the fantastical creatures, the synths, and the aliens. If anyone was a beacon of light for the controversial coalition that wanted peace among the four factions, it was the mayor. Miwa had taken an interest in the minority group, as they were different from your usual "synth exposed" articles. She hoped to one day meet a member of this secretive organization, to interview them and answer the question everyone was wondering: Were there really members of different factions peacefully coexisting?

She didn't have an answer to this... yet. She suspected the mayor was a member of this minority group, and she intended to get to the heart of the tiny faction and reveal their secrets. Such was the way of a journalist. To inform the people of everything she could. So this opportunity to speak to the mayor up close and personal was a great opportunity for her. She looked around at the crowd that was slowly growing larger and larger. It was an open meeting; anyone could attend to hear the mayor's speech. Miwa only wondered just what the mayor wanted to address the city about. Was it to console the people after recent vampire attacks? To assure people that those cattle had been taken by predators and not extraterrestrials? There was no telling what the mayor had in mind.

Marshall had just recently arrived, and was walking up to City Hall from where his truck was parked not too far away. Although, already dressed up and ready to go to work at the museum, he had time to catch the mayor's speech before he had to attend work. He was relieved by this, because he didn't want to miss the chance to see it in person. The mayor giving a speech, especially one that could potentially be about the four differing factions, was an important historical event that could very well shape the foundation of their society and culture for the future.

While Marshall enjoyed studying artifacts, stories, and cultures of the past, he wouldn't dare miss a chance to see such a momentous occasion before his very eyes for anything in the world. To think that he could one day tell a future generation that he was there to witness history in the making was an exhilarating thought. Closing his eyes with his hands clasped behind his back, Marshall took a deep breath that became more of a contented sigh. He wanted to savor this moment of excitement and anticipation, and yet that very anticipation also made him somewhat anxious and impatient to finally see the mayor and hear his speech. Marshall could only wonder and speculate about what the man had to say. Oh, when would he finally make his appearance?

Jayden felt like garbage that morning. That much was true. But to believe that that was out of the norm could be likened to saying that the sun was green and the grass was yellow. It seemed that after every rowdy night at whatever bar she decided to crash at, she would get like this. Fuzzy head, heavy eyelids, sensitivity to light and noise... Well, she wasn't an idiot. She knew why she felt that way.

Or, maybe she was an idiot, for continuing to drink. Maybe she was an even bigger idiot for believing that eventually, one day, one way or another, in time, etcetera, she'd grow an immunity to it. After all, alcohol was just another poison, wasn't it? And she needed some reason to go around picking bones with the patrons. That is to say, when she could find a place that accepted her "business" instead of kicking her out upon getting word of "that greaser chick who keeps starting fights".

Speaking of which, where the hell was she right now? She could barely remember where she had come from. Where had she put her board? No, she had walked on foot that time. She could hardly walk right now, with the sun blaring in her eyes. Growling after stepping out of the shadow of a nearby building, she lifted a hand to put a wall between her face and the offending rays. As her vision slowly recovered from being temporarily blinded, she soon came to make out the shape of a crowd in the distance, but not before she heard the chatter of many voices. Lifting her head from its slouch, she peered below her hand at each sidewalk, finding that there was a stream of people flowing towards this gathering.

Well, well, what did she have here? She could push aside her misery for the sake of investigating whatever was holding this big of a crowd. If it was interesting enough to warrant the attention of this many people, it was definitely interesting enough to warrant hers. A bounce now in her step after they once repetitively dragged over the ground, she made her way into the courtyard to join the onlookers. Was that the City Hall in the distance? Did that mean this was a political thing? ... Eh, it's still something.

With a heavy hand, Jayden tapped the shoulder of the nearest person-- a taller, bearded man wearing gloves-- unaware of what a mess she looked like as she proceeded to ask, "Hey, dude? What's the occasion?"

Marshall had simply been patiently waiting for the mayor to appear, when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. Curious, he turned halfway to get a look at the person who had requested his attention. Marshall had wondered why they seemed lost on current events, until he got a good look at them. With how much of a mess they appeared to be, he could only speculate on where they had just come from.

He wasn't one to get heavily drunk just before a work day, but he had visited enough bars in his lifetime to know the signs of someone who had. While Marshall couldn't say for certain, this person sure seemed to show the signs of being hungover. Although, now that he thought about it, their appearance seemed to match the description of a certain someone he had heard about before. While Marshall hadn't personally met her himself yet, he had heard of a greaser chick who always seemed to pick fights with other bar attendees. Perhaps these two were one and the same?

However, now was hardly the time to think about that. It would be rude to ignore the question asked of him. So Marshall turned towards her fully and gave a soft smile. "Why, miss, this is City Hall, where the mayor is said to make an appearance soon, presumably about the varying factions. Although, we will find out for sure soon enough." He spoke calmly and politely. He had an air of sophistication about him, much like a true gentleman.

As much as Marshall wanted to stay and hear this speech, something nagged at him in the back of his mind, so he couldn't help but ask her a question. "Er, forgive my intrusion, miss, but are you fit to be here right now? You seem a bit... Out of sorts. If you like, I could offer you some assistance getting home, if you need it. My truck isn't far from here, and I would be delighted to help." He offered a sincere smile.

Fen couldn't believe his luck, there he was, walking down the street minding his own business, putting up fliers for his one man music show on various telephone posts and bulletin boards when he'd come across a crowd the size, well, it was bigger than any crowd he'd seen at one of his shows that was for certain. He'd had no idea about the Mayor's speech and probably wouldn't have cared, well maybe that's not true he might have given an "Oh that's cool" if he'd read or heard about it but standing and listening to someone talk, not his style, he preferred to listen to the metallic ringings of strings and the guttural pounding on skins and he doubted there would be any opening act or halftime shows. Fen, however, realized this could be the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted: Fame. He started to work his way through the crowd, giving out fliers and plastering them up anywhere that the crowd could see, maybe this would finally provide him a crowd at his show, although the venue did only seat about thirty...

Lost in his mind, in the roar of the crowd that reside inside of it, Fen hadn't been paying much attention to what was in front of him, or rather beneath him. His shoe had come untied and as he reached the edge of the area where only the press were allowed he, of course with his luck, made the mistake of stepping on his own lace and flying forward, "Dammi-", was all he could utter out before crashing past the press line and into a young girl who was part of the press it would seem as she was ready with her camera and microphone.