Psychonauts, A Place To Pretend
Hey folks. This is for Roleplaying our favorite game, and maybe an original roleplay or two. Everyone is Welcome, rules inside.
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Raz- Digital Dreamer Lily- Miss Trippy Oleander- Available Sasha Nein- Pyro Madz Milla Vodello- Available Ford Cruller- Jak0TheShadows Benny- Available Bobby Zilch- Available Chloe- Available Clem- Available Chops- Available Crystal- Available Dogen- Available Elka- Available James "J.T."- Available Maloof- Available Mikhail- Pyro Madz Milka- Available Elton- Available Nils- Available Phoebe- Available Quentin- Available Vernon - Available Kitty- Available Franke- Available Boyd Cooper- Available Gloria- Available Fred- Lovova Edgar- Available Crispin- Available Dr. Loboto- Available Sheegor- Availble Linda the Lungfish- Available Mr. Pokeylope- Available Razputin's father ( doesnt have a name yet)- Available Good luck guys!
9/8/2006 . Edited 9/25/2006 #1
Oc Charector. Created by: Lovova Age- 10 Best subject- Levitation Worst subject- Pyrokenesis Lily Feirce, better known as Lily's daughter in To Come and Find Me, is hot tempered, rash, and a little selfish. She isnt lazy, but she has a hard time with classes, and just barley got into the school with a foster scholarship. She has no idea who her real parents are ( though she plans on finding out) and has grown up in several different foster homes. She gave herself the last name Feirce in reminder of herslef that thats the way to live and get what you want; By being feirce. Unfortanatly, she's got a soft side and a consciuse, and though she can definatly threaten and defend herself, she doesnt have the heart to torment somebody else, even if they deserve it. She has a natural distrust of Raz, though she's not sure why, but gets along pretty well with her other classmates.
9/11/2006 #2
9/12/2006 . Edited 9/8/2007 #3
Hmmm...alright. You did Lili very well. You got her. And you OC charector seems interesting enough. You sound like you already have a story in mind for her, just try to remember not to monopolize the forum with it. The roleplays already started, so come on in.
9/13/2006 #4
Saaa, Digi shall post her application as well, just so everyone knows that she did in fact apply., since I was dying to play Raz, I totally applied with this four-page long thing. It kind sucks, but hey, it got me in: “...Dude.” That was the only way to describe it. It really was. When Razputin Aquato had been set on his latest mission as a Psychonaut, he hadn't been sure what to expect. You never were on these sort of things, you were dealing with human minds, after all. Even one as simple as “go get me a donut from that store across the street, you know, one of them glazed ones” never ended up quite as he expected, so of course how would a mission to retrieve information on the where-abouts of a known terrorist be any different? He certainly hadn't expected to find the only guy with the information was a crazed old hippie, his long graying locks held back from his face by a multicolored headband, dazed grin forever plastered on as he spoke. Of course, the fact that the hippie couldn't seem to remember anything wasn't much of a surprise (It was just like that one time in True Psychic Tales Issue 349!), so a trip into the mental world was unavoidable. And so as he placed Sasha's psycho-portal (He sort of “forgot” to return it after all this time, whoops) on the hippie's forehead, ignoring the cry of “FAR OUT MAAAN!” as he projected himself through the doorway, he hadn't been sure of what he would see. It really shouldn't have been too surprising, considering the mind's owner. But it didn't make it any less shocking. It was as if the entire world had been dunked in tye-dye. An entire field of swaying grass and trees waved before him, a rainbow of color. The grass changed from blue to yellow to red before his eyes as it moved, incense burners that would have made Milla proud dotting the landscape like flowers. The sky was an insane mixture of blinding colors, golden peace signs and multi-colored blossoms simply floating in mid-air. Some were actually rotating, glinting in the sunlight. “...Whoa.” Raz mumbled, pushing his red-lensed goggles up onto his forehead, his reddish brown hair getting caught in the straps as wide, jade green eyes stared at the psychedelic world before him. He loved his job. He really did. How could he not? He was living his life's dream after all! He was famous as the worlds youngest psychic secret agent! What wasn't to love about that!? But there were some days when it could be very, very, VERY odd. “Okay...this is officially really, really weird.” Raz muttered as a curtain of multicolored beads floated past like a long-feather bird. “Alright. Now if I were super secret information on a deranged psychic terrorist, where would I be?” He asked himself as he glanced around. “Duuuude, what's up, bro?” A voice asked from behind him. Raz jumped, spinning around to come face to face with a slightly younger version of the hippie whose mind he was in. “Oh, um, hey there.” He said, blinking. “Cool duds, man. I love the shades.” The hippie said, poking at the goggles, his dopey grin reflected in their red lenses. “Ooh, look, a little me! Aweeeeesome!” Raz took a step back, lightly batting the hippie's hand away. As admittedly cool as his wardrobe was, he wasn't so sure he wanted people poking at it like he was on display. It reminded him a bit too much of the circus. “Yeah, um, right. Listen, I'm looking for some information. Do you have any idea where I can find anything?” “Information?” The hippie blinked, brow furrowing. “Little dude, are you trying to find out, like...The Truth?” “Um...” Raz paused, blinking a moment before nodding. Well, if that was what “Top Secret Information On A Known Terrorist” was called around here. “Yeeaaah, that's it. Do you know where I can find it?” The hippie shook his head, his long blond hair waving with the motion. “Ooohh, bad idea, little dude. You don't wanna do that. Finding out The Truth will just bring a load of problems, man. You dig what I'm saying?” Raz rose a brow at this. “Sir, I'm a Psychonaut.” He said, puffing out his chest. “Don't you worry, I think I can handle whatever 'problems' come from me finding what I'm looking for.” “No man, trust me, you do NOT want to know. The Man's always watching. You do not wanna mess with The Man, Little Dude.” The hippie stated, waving his arms in front of his face. The ten-year old Psychonaut blinked. “...The Man? Who's The—MMPH!” He was cut off when the hippie suddenly clapped his hands over his mouth. “SHHHH!” The hippie hissed, glancing this way and that. “They're watching!” Raz struggled for a moment before shoving the hippie's hands away, eyes narrowing. “They're watching!?” He demanded. “Who's--” He paused, glancing around. There they were. Flowers all over the field, smiling faces staring back at him with wide eyes. Watching. Always watching. It reminded him a bit of Boyd's mind, but it was different somehow... “...Oh.” “You can't resist them, man. They're everywhere. Your best choice is to just sit back and mellow out, little dude. Chill.” The hippie said, releasing him and nodding. The boy stood there for a moment. “Chill?” He repeated, then shook his head. “I don't have time to chill!” The hippie stared blankly back at him. “No chill? Wha?” “No! No time to chill!” Raz said, shaking his head. “I need that information! Look, bro, aren't you sick of The Man holding you down like this!?” The hippie blinked. “Er...a little.” He said slowly. “Then don't let them oppress you anymore!” Raz said, hands clenching into fists as he spoke. “Go after that Truth! Er...FIGHT THE POWER!” “Hm...Hey, I like that idea, that sounds pretty rad!” The hippie said with a nod and grin. “Yeah! So let's get started on it right now! How do we get that Truth?” Raz asked. “Er...” The hippie trailed off, frowning. “Well...I guess if you could get through the fortress of The Man's headquarters you'd find it...” Raz nodded. “Alright. Sounds good to me, how do I get there?” “Well,'d have to get to the island first...which is across Tye Dye Ocean--” “Ocean!? Wait, you mean water?” Raz interrupted, eyes widening. He could feel something like the stirrings of an ancient fear in the pit of his stomach at the mere mention of it. “Yeah. But to get across that you'd have to get a ship...and to get that you'd need to get past the Giant Killer Doves of Peace--” “Giant Killer Doves of Peace!? Isn't that name a bit contradicting!?” Raz repeated, eyes widening. This whole plan was starting to sound less fun by the minute. “Yeah, and--” The hippie suddenly paused, eyes widening and face going pale. “Oh man...they're here!” Raz blinked, brow furrowing as he glanced around. “Who's here?” “THE MAN!” The hippie cried. At that moment a bright red circle with a “Do Not Enter” sign appeared in the air, and out of it popped three censors. But these were nothing like any of the censors Raz had ever seen. No, these censors had Tye-Dye shirts and ties, and their look was completed with shades and hippie hair, a multicolored stamp clenched in each of their fists. “No way! No way!” They all babbled in the same mechanical voice all censors used. Raz's jaw dropped. “What. The. Hell. ” He mumbled as the Hippie!Censors advanced, shouting their newest catchphrase over and over like tiny, psychedelic broken records. “AHHH! See! I told you, this is what happens when you mess with The Man!” The hippie cried, reaching out to grab Raz's shirt and shake him. “Now they're gonna come for you, little dude!” “Huh? Wha?” Raz gasped, glancing from the censors to the hippie's panicked face and back again. “Dude, I'm outta here! This is totally not worth it!” The hippie said, shoving Raz away and reaching out to grab one of the peace signs. He tugged on it, revealing a circular hole in the sky, and jumped through it. “Hey, wait!” Raz cried, waving after him. “What about 'Fighting the Power'!?” He demanded. “Sorry little dude, you're on your own! Peace!” The hippie said, flashing a peace sign with his fingers before reaching out and closing the peace sign behind him. Raz opened his mouth to call for his supposed partner in crime, then sighed and allowing his gloved hand to fall back to his side. “It figures.” He sighed as he turned to the approaching Censors, reaching up to pull his goggles over his eyes. “Want something done, you gotta do it yourself.” With that he pressed two fingers against his temple, his other hand reaching out in front of him. Green eyes narrowed in concentration behind the red lenses as he summoned forth some of his annoyance over suddenly being abandoned and... “Hey guys! Hate to burst your bubble, but tye-dye went out of style a long time ago!” He called out with a grin, sending forth a psyblast in the form of blinding crimson. Sure, his job could be very, very weird. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't love every minute of it. Now if he could just work on his snapper one-liners...
9/14/2006 #5
Lovova has already permitted (?) my use of this OC of mine. Just for everyone who doesn't know her, here is Cerice Burganda's oficial bio! Name: Cerice Marie Burganda Age: 12, turning 13 in a month or so. Looks like: The same color skin as Benny, with black, bug-like eyes. She has long, loose ginger hair that is permanently frizzy. She's rather tall, and borderline anorexic, because she NEVER eats... Well, almost never. Wears: A black velvet vest with small fiddly buttons, an aubergine fluted-sleeved top with a v-neck, dark blue mini-skirt and black fishnets. Black ugg boots and fingerless black gloves complete the outfit. Not to mention the mascara she piles on... Personality: Cynical, slightly demented and emotionless. Not the kind of person you want to be around... Likes: Fire, black, darkness, blood, horror movies, murder, purple, goths and punks. Dislikes: Hippies, flowers, peace, love, quiet, light, asparagus, starberries and people. History: Until the age of nine, Cerice lead a normal life, sans Psychic powers. However, on her ninth birthday, Cerice and her sister, Jasmine, went down to the park to play soccer. Cerice, having bad leg joints, lost the game fairly quickly, inspiring a fit of rage in the young girl. She soon shot a psy-blast at the goal, flipping it over and onto her sister, whose lower legs were caught underneath as she jumped away. After many hours of painful operations, Jasmine was able to live, but never walk again. Cerice was distraught, cutting off all contact with the world, except for the internet, where she sought salvation and a place without judgement of her. Soon, Cerice had a new persona online, and was able to regain her confidence. Untrusting of most of her psychic abilities, Cerice took up reading true psychic tales, to learn how to harness her powers. Soon, she was able to confidently psy-blast, use pyrokinesis and much, much more. Soon, however, disaster struck. Cerice's father went off with his secretary, and left the three females on their own. Cerice's mother got over it quickly, but her and her sister were instilled with shock. Cerice went into a kind of depression, and began to find comfort in watching others suffer. She became a pyromaniac, and a string of local disasters sent police into shock. But no-one would ever find out, because there was never any evidence, other than the dead bodies. Quirks: Cerice hates talking about her sister and father, and has bad joints in her legs. So, there she is.
9/14/2006 #6
Strawhat Dragon
Um, yesh. After a while of lurking around here, I sent my application and got it approved. So, here Digi, I joined. This be my character: ~~~ Name: Randol Lekosky Age: 12 Appearance: Slightly tall and lanky for his age, he has jet-black hair that reaches a bit past his ears and bright black eyes. Very long arms and very flexible. He has a very goofy looking grin. Clothes: He usually wears his favorite black jacket with a skull on the back over a plain white shirt. Along with the occasional pair of ripped jeans. Wears thick army boots. If he’s not in this attire, he’s wearing something more casual like a t-shirt and jeans. He’s also got his special shark tooth necklace, made completely with bull shark teeth stringed together. Personality: He’s a pretty goofy kid, very kind-hearted. He loves to eat, but moves around so much that the fat just can’t stay on him. He feels that he should protect people smaller than him and respect ones taller. He loves a good joke, even if he can’t manage to ever make one. Loves danger and adventures. Skilled at: Invisibility Unskilled at: Clairvoyance Bio: When Randol was young, he was already talented in using his psychic powers. This was demonstrated when he set his father on fire when he was only seven. His parents told him to never use his powers because they were evil. But, being the adventurous rascal he was, he would often sneak out to go practice with his powers. Eventually though, his parents found him doing this and sent him away. Writing Sample: Randol looked at the note in his hand. Then he looked around the hallway he was in. Then back at the note. He was lost. Truly and utterly lost. He reached up with one bony hand to run his long fingers through his black hair. He blew out his cheeks and continued walking down the white hallway. His boots making heavy thumps as they hit the ground in a rhythmic pattern. He looked in front of him and behind him. It seemed the same both ways. He didn’t know if maybe he got turned around or took a wrong turn or what, but he knew he was lost. “Well, I’ll surely find some sign of life at some point…” He mumbled and continued walking. ~~~ So...there he is.
10/1/2006 #7

Can I pretty please with babies and madolins on top be Dogen. He's my hero.

SAMPLE: Dogen looked deep into the campfire of Whispering Rock. He imagined what his life would be like if he was not such a coward. He saw himself battle a mighty serpent. Going only by the name of.....Kevin.

Dogen leaped from his mighty steed and drew his mighty Psi-Sword. He swung it and pierced the flesh of Kevin. With a mighty screech Kevin bit into Dogen. But thankfully Dogen had a vial of Kevin Posion Antidote and Window Cleaner on him. He drank it, "Mmmm. Strawberries," he said and used a mighty blast to destroy Kevin.

Dogen sighed, "If only."

6/25/2010 #8

I call Boyd.

Cause, You know, Boyd. Everyone loves The Milkman.

Heh, thats my nickname off site anyways....

9/23/2010 #9

Umm, hate to spam or whatever, but is this place still up and running? I wanna join if it still is.

4/16/2011 #10
Spirit Dragoness

Created by:

Name: Ann

Age: 10

Gender: Female

Appearance: Small and lean with long brown hair and hazel eyes.

Best skill/Worst skill: She seems like Raz as she's well rounded in her abilities. Although her shield and marksmanship may need a bit of work.

Bio: Her parents were both people that genuinely hated psychics. When their daughter began developing powers, they tried everything but couldn't remove their daughters 'horrible curse' as Anns power continued to strengthen. They finally locked her away in which she escaped just before RP.

RP Sample: Ann ran, she didn't know for how long. Tears streamed down her pale and slightly freckled face.

They locked me away! Like some kind of animal! She thought as anger and tragedy ran wild though her terrified mind.

"What am I?" SHe growled and a large crate went flying near her as another burst into flames all on it's own. She fled into an alley way and curled up. Shaking her head.

"I'm no one."

1/24/2014 . Edited 1/24/2014 #11
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