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the-bumper-car
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Old Dragon
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| Joined: 30 Aug 2007 |
| Posts: 577 |
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Posted: Thu Sep 27, 2007 11:45 pm Post subject: Mage: Diliman by Night Characters |
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Aur Ain Soph
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Very Old Dragon
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| Joined: 29 Aug 2007 |
| Posts: 693 |
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Posted: Thu Sep 27, 2007 11:52 pm Post subject: |
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As far as I can tell it's an optional thing but flavor is always good~
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All hail the Bongolian Ultraprawn! |
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Revan
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Sith'ari, Chosen Heart of the Force
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 1552 |
| Location: Korriban |
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Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2007 12:27 am Post subject: |
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I'd recommend we just collapse them all into a single thread for ease of forum use, and just leave a header in bold text to ID the character that a particular flavor post is written for.
Ex:
Insert Character Name Here: (title if any)
(fluff)
//endfluff
_________________
Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.
-George Wu (The Hyperion Cantos, Dan Simmons) |
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Revan
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Sith'ari, Chosen Heart of the Force
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 1552 |
| Location: Korriban |
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Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2007 2:34 am Post subject: |
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EDIT: 28 Sep 2007 0745H
Samael the Venom of God: War Plans
Deep in the Sanctum, Samael sat nursing a cup of coffee. Strewn across the floor surrounding him were a multitude of tomes and paers. Notable titles included the De Umbrarium Regni Novem Portis, attributed to the Devil, an expurgated but amusing mistranslation of the Lemegeton, a Prima Empire Deluxe Strategy Guide, an annotated translation of The Art of War, and a battered paperback copy of The Prince. The magus sipped from the lukewarm cup, and returned to his consideration of the topographical map of the area surrounding the UP Math Building.
There has to be a better way of doing this
There is none Samael! Why do you cower before these impudent fledglings? You and your minions are Magi of the Awakened, Sons of the Supernal City!
Allies, comrades-in-arms, friends, perhaps. But most definitely not minions. Yes. We are Magi. And one must not also forget that they are also Magi, Belial, Magi who have strayed from the path, but Magi nonetheless. At roughly 40 Magi, they still outnumber us almost 5-1.
And I thought Epsilon Alpha and the Council of Seven were truly warriors, leaders, Kings of the Awakened and Lords of the Sleepers?
We are students. Magi who have taken their first steps toward Wisdom and Knowledge. We are mighty. But we are not invincible. At best, we have the Elder Seven, the Junior Council, Raven, Fu Man Chu, and Gemini. Long odds. In a straight battle, we will be overwhelmed.
Hmph. In better times, I would not need to accuse you of cowardice.
Well, in the old days, I wasn't quite as in control of myself as I am now, demon.
In his mind's sight, Belial shrugged. His personal demon adjusted his immaculate white suit, nonchalantly brushing off an imaginary speck of dust to bring attention to the demon's elegantly maintained appearance. Belial appeared to Samael looking exactly as a double of the magus, only robed and accoutered in power, glory and majesty. Dressed in a spotless and finely tailored white suit, silk tie, and possessed of a regal bearing, Belial's most significant difference from Samael were his eyes. Belial gazed at the world with a cold, dispassionate stare contemptuous of all that he considered unworthy of him, as opposed to Samael's mocking, sardonic half-smile, though at times, his master, Suleiman, remarked that the two could look too much alike. Some nights, the Magus actually considered the possibility that his Awakening (or his initiation into the Clavicularius) had truly driven him mad. At the very least, there was something surreal about conversing with the personification of one's darkest urges.
I know how badly you wish to strike them down. That woman humiliated you in her place of power. She goaded you and insulted you, and then sent you running off like a whipped dog. I know that you burn with the desire to strike her down and that you will revel at the slick warmth of her blood running down your saber...
Humiliated me, demon? You'll have to do better than that, old boy. I bearded the lion in her den. I goaded her into letting me in and examining her defenses and numbers. I played on her pride, not vice versa. Now stop bothering me. I've got work to do.
You coward...
"You're beginning to repeat yourself, Belial old boy. Maybe it's time we ended this farce for tonight. I think a nice good 'ol fashioned Rite of Castigation should do the trick. Now shut the frak up."
A triangle inscribed with Clavicularian sigils burst to life under Belial's feet as Samael empowered the Pentagram that defended the integrity of his mind, soul, and body. In the back of his head, Samael knew that this had to be a dream. The binding circle and summoning triangle that he beheld was located in his private quarters, not in the space beside the Council's Hallow.
Leveling his sabre against his inner demon, Samael began the Rite of Castigation.
"I am Samael, the Accuser, named after the chief of the Shaytan, the Tempters and Testers. I am the subtle knife, the hidden hand in the dark, the Venom of God who strikes down His enemies and tests the worthiness of the faithful. By the power of the one above, I name thee Belial, Proud Lord. Baal Ial, know that I am Samael, the Venom of God, and my will is mine, and mine alone. I cast thee out, Belial, and abjure thee by the power granted to me through my Awakened Will."
With a grimace, the daimon faded from view, and Samael felt a sudden influx of mana, as if Pattern of Pandemonium somehow paid tribute to his Castigation.
***
How can we take the battle to the enemy?
***
Suleiman, Samael's master in the Clavicularian legacy chided his student for yet another mistake.
This is from three weeks ago. I remember sitting there in the garden in Kalibo, finally giving in to the fact that there would be absolutely no way of keeping my shirt clean after sitting on the soil.
"Once more, my student, you have fallen into my trap." The elder Clavicularian picked up a pile of little sungka shells and quickly ran his flying fingers through the aged wood of the game board. Samael grimaced as his master once again stood victorious.
"As I have said before, proud Samael, you are improving, but you are unable yet to achieve...something. Subtlety. And restraint. And a knowledge of when one must back down, or choose a different path. Remember that I give you only one more chance. If you confound me in this next game, than I will relent and teach you the wisdom of the first and greatest of the Goeticists, Suleiman the Magnificent. If you loose, however, than you solemnly swear never to intrude on me again."
The younger mage ran a hand through his hair, considered the inscrutable facade of the master, and then nodded.
Suleiman snorted. "Very well then, we shall begin."
Once again fingers flew, and Samael's mind scrambled for options. The old man knew this game inside and out, mastering the patterns and permutations of the movements. Samael would stand no chance in hell if they continued playing this way. The game entered the middle, with the old man waiting on Samael's move.
Consider the number of shells in each. Calculate. Conclusion: Every move I make will result in my defeat. What then can I do?
"Nice try, student. But as I said, no magic. Your Fate Arcanum will be of no use to you. Now, what is your move?"
I cannot afford to loose this game.
What is the best move?
All moves lead to defeat.
Is there any move remaining at all?
There are no more moves...
No more moves...
No moves...!
The young man grinned, tried, and failed to suppress a chuckle.
The elder Clavicularian stroked his mustache. "Well, what is your move?"
"None."
"What do you..."
"I make no move. Every move leads to defeat. Therefore, I will not move. And therefore, you also cannot move. And none of us will win. And I will have confounded your plans for victory."
The old man considered a moment. "Unorthodox. Witty. Pretentious. I like it. I agree. My victory is confounded. I had not taken this possibility into account..."
***
Samael groggily got to his feet, nearly knocking his now half-empty cup of coffee onto the Art of War. He knew a way that the game could be played.
We cannot win by playing their game. Therefore we will find other ways to subdue them. We will not play their game. We will play our games.
He began leafing through the pages of The Prince and the UP Student Handbook.
_________________
Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.
-George Wu (The Hyperion Cantos, Dan Simmons) |
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the-bumper-car
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Old Dragon
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| Joined: 30 Aug 2007 |
| Posts: 577 |
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Posted: Fri Sep 28, 2007 10:40 pm Post subject: |
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River Coins
Obrimos, Silver Ladder
Concept: Brawler
Virtue: Hope (Go Team!)
Vice: Lust (Being varsity has its perks...)
A CHK major, and member of the UP Karate Varsity. Comes from a rich but formerly richer family in the provinces. Is not familiar with this concept you call "studying". Has two ways of dealing with problems - befriending them (and if they happen to be a girl, sleeping with them) or bashing the heck out of them. Is pretty handy with a car, and has his own SUV big enough for an orgy in the back. Has a mage tool in the form of brass knucks that he has been focusing on. Has started carrying a lighter even if he doesn't smoke ever since he realized that Forces 3 = FLAMETHROWER. Awakened after a threesome with twin gold medalists he ran into (and fought) at a Karate tournament.
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Currently Running: NOTHING
Currently Playing: The World Ends With You, Final Fantasy Fables: Chocobo Tales, Picross
D&D Home Page - What Class Are You? - Build A Character - D&D Compendium
Can I be the Avenger of Atheism? |
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Revan
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Sith'ari, Chosen Heart of the Force
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 1552 |
| Location: Korriban |
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Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2007 3:26 am Post subject: |
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Samael: Dealing with demons.
Disaster. Unmitigated, inexcusable disaster. No other term could :consored: describe it.
First, that strange compulsion cut through every magical defense guarding his mind. He had only barely been able to fend it off, when Mariachi and the others began to move inexorably towards that God-forsaken tower like zombies.
God, this night's gone gloriously well, hasn't it?
Then that freaking *numerous expletives deleted* bitch pops up, offers a throne to Mariachi, and typical of the Ladders, his eyes pop out, and he lets her lead him off meek as a sheep to the slaughter.
And this damned idiocy wouldn't have happened if I hadn't smacked him on the head for acting like a damned fool. Control, dammit, control!
Puh-lease, Samael, that's what, about the only courageous thing you've done all night.
I didn't mean to do it, I just wanted to hold him back, keep him from being swallowed up...
Stop denying it. You wanted to smack him for acting like a damned weak-willed fool too pathetic to even keep a simple compulsion from :consored: around with his mind! You said it yourself, long ago: "If you act like a damn fool, then I'll treat you like a damn fool!" Hell, you'd be saying that now, if you hadn't walled off that last honest part of yourself within me.
As the Mastigos jogged back to the Council's sanctum, his Goetic demon, Belial stood waiting for him under a streetlamp near the EEE building. The orange light gave Belial's suit an almost blood-red quality.
I did not summon you, Belial, so get the :consored: out of my head. I've got to think!
"Think! Hah! Think! That's a good one, Samael. That's about all you do these days, Samael: Think!"
"She's right, you know, Samael old boy. What the hell did you think your hijinks would have accomplished? They're obviously not a frat, no matter how much they may try to look like one. You would never have been able to get them to act like fratboys. Now if you had been fighting BetaBeta, weell, that might have been more effective, but that's neither here nor there."
Samael spat on the ground, tried to ignore the demon, and continued jogging back to the HQ. Still, Belial just wouldn't give up. Somehow, the demon kept pace, even though he seemed to be merely walking at Samael's side.
"Pathetic. That's what this all is. Your precious Council of Seven turning tail like a pack of cowards, and you, fleeing back home, whimpering like a whipped dog..."
"SHUT THE :consored: UP BELIAL!"
"Hah! You decided to emasculate yourself, wall off the most powerful aspects of your Self, and Satanize it as some sort of demon. You created me so that I might serve as your inner foil, your darkness. You brought me to being and personified me to castigate you for your weakness, so for once, LISTEN TO ME AND LET ME DO MY JOB, SAMAEL!"
"Time and again you have denied your truest self, Samael. You seek to look for ideal solutions when in truth you know the truest solution to any problem: Blood and Steel."
"NO. I control you, demon, I command you, not vice versa!"
"Control? In what universe did you ever consider that you controlled me?! You've walled me off, denied me, demonized me, but you have never yet truly controlled me, weakling! You throw the most glorious aspects of yourself into some mental dungeon and then call it control? I call it denial. You could have turned me into a weapon, an instrument of your will, the tool of the Accuser against those whose will He must test. But no. You deny me. You FEAR me, Samael, because you know, most surely and truly, that I am you. I am Samael, with all his weaknesses, his flaws, his indecisions, all stripped away.
I am the Will to Power, Samael. That is why you fear me.
"I am not afraid of you, Belial. Get thee behind me, demon. I need to think!"
"You're repeating yourself old boy. Gahd, why do I bother. As far as I'm concerned, we're pretty much a hopeless cause anyway. Your bumbling has fairly shot our chances of getting anything decent done."
Samael paused for breath and turned around. Even here, at the back of Palma hall, the magus could see the Ivory Tower rising into the darkness. Beautiful. Tantalizing. The flows of magic called out...
"No. My will is my own, and I will not submit myself before that...thing."
The Mastigos stared up at the tower, rage and hatred boiling up within him.
Bow down to no man. On this, Samael, we both agree. That thing, is an abomination. It sideslips the will of the Awakened, calling out to them. It warps the mind, bends the will. It is an abomination that must be purged. Secrets must be earned. The Awakened must prove themselves worthy of the Supernal. It must be earned thru trial by fire, not merely given. Knowledge, undeserved and unalloyed with Wisdom, leads to Hubris. We must destroy that...thing, before it corrupts any more.
Samael glared at the tower in the distance, and then suddenly broke into a grin.
"Yes, after all, only we know the true path to the Supernal, don't we, Belial? After all, the pair of us are such sterling examples of wisdom, restraint, and self-effacing humility, aren't we, old boy?"
"Mockery, Samael? Well at least it's better than your pathetic self-pity. And I almost thought that breaking your mind would have been easy."
"Hmph. Nice try, demon, I'll give you that. Still, too much of what you've told me is...correct."
A timid voice suddenly chimed in ahead of Samael. "Ah...Who are you talking to, Sir Arkangelo? I... don't see anyone else around."
Samael turned to the EA neophyte and simply glared at him. The hapless boy, suddenly the focus of the infuriated Councilor's frustration, rage, and homicidal mania, almost collapsed into a blubbering heap.
"Damn. Pull yourself together boy. Garcia, right? We've got work to do. Find River Coins. I don't care who he's :consored: tonight, I don't care how many people are in his bed, drag his ass over here. Get Fu Manchu as well. And tell him to bring his knife. And if there are any leftovers from his last batch of food, bring it over as well. If we're going to kill or be killed, we may as well do it on a full stomach."
"Uh...sir?"
"Don't interrupt me! And when they get here, get Sevens, Jackal, and Devilgrass over here as well. Respectfully ask Dimples, Creature, and any other resident senior Councilors if they would deign to honor us with their presence. We've got a war to plan. And you may as well bring me my sabre as well. The live blade, dummy. And Belial...yes. Shut the :consored: up. Yes. Of course I don't know what I'm doing. Yes, of course this could blow up in our faces. But she expects me to sulk, and plan, and plot and scheme. To hell with that, you're right. The sword calls out for blood."
"Belial? Umm...are you alright, Samuel? Maybe some hot coffee, or...."
Samael turned to the neophyte, and for a moment, Garcia could swear that the Councilor gave him that same look that one gives to a particularly offensive insect that one is about to squash. Squash with great prejudice.
The boy quailed.
"Well, aren't you supposed to be doing something, boy? MOVE!"
***
Somewhere in Kalibo, Aklan.
The old man sat on the banig and chewed a mouthful of betel-nut as he considered the scrying window that observed his "pupil's" actions in Diliman.
Beside him, a sultry voice whispered. Well, Suleiman? Shall I deal with your errant student already? He's made a royal mess of things already. His demon Belial is...
"Calm down, Bilqis. There's no need to do anything precipitous...yet. Samael has never yet truly mastered himself."
And to think you taught him the first Attainment already, and without even presenting him at the Great Temple.
"Unconventional, true, but this one shows potential. He may yet have what it takes to master the inner demon. If so, then I will present him to my peers at the Temple. If he fails, then I suppose I will have to send you to deal with him, my love."
Very well, Suleiman. At least tell me you've got something interesting for me to do tonight: corrupt some mayor, examine a policeman's conscience, test the iron will of some priest...
"Patience, Bilqis. Patience. If something must be done, I will summon you."
I suppose that's the best I will get out of you, old fart.
"Yes, I suppose it is, Bilqis. Now be silent. I need to think."
The old man continued to chew on the betel nut as he gazed at the scrying window.
_________________
Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.
-George Wu (The Hyperion Cantos, Dan Simmons) |
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BJ
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He Who Founds Wyrmlings
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 3997 |
| Location: Sa sikmura ng Bakunawa |
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Posted: Sun Oct 07, 2007 9:19 pm Post subject: |
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The guitarist combed his hair with his blood-soaked hand. Reddish paste held the long mane uncomfortably in place.
Mariachi stared at his image in the mirror. His skin was a little white from the small loss of blood. He stared at the deep gash at the side of his sexy belly. Nothing vital was injured, so he didn't concern himself with it.
In a few weeks (days if he sees cousin again soon), the scar would just be a reminder of one of the two lessons he has learned tonight: No mage is innocent.
When he first laid eyes on the mute Sevens, he actually believed that she waSn't even close to dangerous. Amusing, yes. A little cute? Maybe. But dangerous? Hell no.
That is, until the girl bypassed his carefully crafted luck charms, delivering a wound that was just an inch short of becoming fatal...
Or was the non-fatality because of the luck charm, and it worked a lot better than he thought?
It didn't matter. Not so long ago Mariachi humored Samael, the junior, with fighting fire with water. And for all the wisdom he shared, the schizo freak decided to repay him with a smack to the head. At that moment he knew. Oh, he knew it was a charm. The best way to fight a charm is to let you guide it to the fool (usually Mastigos) who seeks to control you. If someone wants to see you that badly, why deny him/her the pleasure? (And no one, not even some upstart mind mage, can truly hurt the one that is blessed by the Lunargent Thorn with unbelievable luck) What the guitarist realized at that point is that maybe, just maybe, ED will show better respect for their betters.
But in case they don't...
"Hey, you," he called to one of his new subjects, "get me a guitar."
"Of course, highness," the ED boy replied. No doubt the charm gives them the appearance of being respectful. The tower is indeed very strong.
When he harnesses it for himself, he will be the best Mariachi there is.
The neophyte handed him a guitar. Eew. Scratches here and there, four of the six strings are out of tune, inferior wood...
The schizophrenic Clavicularian will no doubt trespass on his room and retrieve his handsome guitar, hoping for a sympathetic connection. He'll probably find the gun, too.
He best increase his luck. This ED guitar sucks, but it's fixable.
He was halfway into his first song when he heard the Lich enter. He may have betrayed the whole Consilium, but at least Raja had the decency to not interrupt his masterpiece. Unlike some people he knew.
"Yes," the guitarist thought in between notes. "I am most definitely still charmed... I never liked Raja, but right now I do..."
The piece ended. Brilliant, as usual. The familiar scent of Raja's cigarette smoke entered Mariachi's senses, "Ready to talk, maTe?" The lich asked.
Mariachi stood up. The wound stung, "Of course..."
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Nosfecatu Publishing |
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BJ
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He Who Founds Wyrmlings
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 3997 |
| Location: Sa sikmura ng Bakunawa |
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Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 6:34 pm Post subject: Wow, it's been awhile |
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So I managed to dig up El Mariachi recently; over the course of Diliman by Night, he has managed to nab some 76xp points; 60 of which are invested already.
He's quite a beast already! He's down to 6 Wisdom, and he has the Suspicion Derangement (if I'm reading this right), but otherwise, I'm loving his 4 dots in prime arcana and three dots in Fate. My Gnosis is only two, but I'm still rather roud of him.
So basically, what I'm saying is this; do you want us to archive the Diliman by Night Characters in the same way that we do the ones in Bonethrall? And will you guys be able to unearth your characters for archiving?
It's a shame if we never use these characters again; at the same time, I want to try new characters. Maybe even some totally mundane ones. 
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Nosfecatu Publishing |
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Aur Ain Soph
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Very Old Dragon
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| Joined: 29 Aug 2007 |
| Posts: 693 |
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Posted: Sun Jun 21, 2009 10:44 pm Post subject: |
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I'll see if I can dig up my characters.
_________________
All hail the Bongolian Ultraprawn! |
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oghma
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Ancient Dragon
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| Joined: 20 Mar 2007 |
| Posts: 857 |
| Location: The Happy Hunting Grounds |
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Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 1:51 am Post subject: |
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Revan
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Sith'ari, Chosen Heart of the Force
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 1552 |
| Location: Korriban |
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Posted: Tue Jun 23, 2009 11:40 am Post subject: |
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Oh, sounds cool. And I do want to get back to a little WoD gamery. I know I have Samael around somewhere, I'll just have to track him down.
_________________
Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.
-George Wu (The Hyperion Cantos, Dan Simmons) |
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BJ
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He Who Founds Wyrmlings
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 3997 |
| Location: Sa sikmura ng Bakunawa |
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 2:41 pm Post subject: |
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First thing we'll need is a format for the online sheets. Hmm... It's possible to have a united style for all supernatural templates, I believe. I'm just not in the mood to make one at this moment. If anyone steps up to the plate, then that will be awesome.  *hint, hint*
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Nosfecatu Publishing |
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Revan
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Sith'ari, Chosen Heart of the Force
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| Joined: 04 Dec 2006 |
| Posts: 1552 |
| Location: Korriban |
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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2009 3:21 pm Post subject: |
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In progress...
_________________
Words are the only bullets in truth's bandolier. And poets are the snipers.
-George Wu (The Hyperion Cantos, Dan Simmons) |
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