Post by Listhart on Feb 5, 2017 2:35:44 GMT
Listhart
[attr="class","sumBox"]
Real Name:Shritt Daniels
Real Gender: Male
Game Gender: Male
Age: 19
Sexuality: Demisexual
Race: Human
Faction: Adventurer
Face-Claim: Ruari from Mabinogi, by Gamsu.
CBox Name: Mans
Discord Name/Nickname: Killic
Real Name:Shritt Daniels
Real Gender: Male
Game Gender: Male
Age: 19
Sexuality: Demisexual
Race: Human
Faction: Adventurer
Face-Claim: Ruari from Mabinogi, by Gamsu.
CBox Name: Mans
Discord Name/Nickname: Killic
[attr="class","tempo"] [attr="class","appbox1"] 5"11, 133 pounds. Were one to compare Shritt himself to his chosen avatar, Listhart, it'd be something of a strange thing to look upon. In spite of Listhart's clear modelling on Shritt's own looks, they have come to look as similar, yet unquestionably distinct. In Listhart, some of his features are bold exaggerations of Shritt's own... others, understatements of the real; not always as the way even Shritt himself had intended. Listhart didn't bear a particularly notable face; neither truly handsome nor unhandsome. His hair, while seldom washed, retained its shocking red like the colour of a bad can of soda, something of a parody of Shritt's own shade which had darkened from a bright ginger to a grubby copper over his teenage years. His forehead already brought with it the barest traces of lines garnered from too much time spent with a squinting focus, his nose was a little too long and curved at one end; his jaw was unshaven, but at least less unkempt - relatively speaking - to Shritt's own facial hair which looked less-so rugged as he'd likely hoped, more... ragged. His body continued the trend. Both Shritt and Listhart were of the same height, and regarding physique... if you were being kind, you might say wiry, or toned. More blunt eyes looking on, he was a scarecrow of a man, too-tall and too-skinny to the point that you'd think of him as clumsy and incompetent. But here Shritt and his avatar diverged, with Shritt's own sad little trudge with sparrow shoulders sagging forwards dispensed in favour of Listhart's always-upright, poised and fluent stature, his movements that always seemed practised and pre-conceived. Listhart may be better-clothed than Shritt, even a little better-kept than Shritt, but his unremarkable yet respectable looks - that give the impression of a man more old and learned than he really is - stem from the fact that Listhart motions with a sense of purpose that Shritt himself does not feel. | [attr="class","tempo"] [attr="class","appbox1"] (INTJ bordering INFJ, for the record.) Above all, Shritt is a considering person. Some might say he's too like to empathy for his own good, he certainly was for the largest swathe of his life. He's often given to analysis of others, and more frequently himself - not; though, in the factual and critical sense as one would likely expect. Instead, he knows emotions well... at least, he believes he does, and considers that the action of any person is inherently justified; if only by their life and their state of mind. Oftentimes he seeks to understand and account for the needs of others, but sometimes he can be overwhelmed by the fright and the pressure of having to think all this through, or even whether he's right to be trying to process it in the first place. It's this tendency which can lead him to be unreliable even to himself, sometimes he forgets things, sometimes he grows temporarily obsessed with the most minor details and feels there's some puzzle to solve within them. Sometimes, even, it can make him just want to run away - much as it sickens him, he's grown pretty good at running from his problems, whether talking reality or this grim 'dream' he treads now. Shritt genuinely wants to convert all his considering into being considerate, into aiding others whom he all regards as so much more important than himself. But he often gets it wrong, or worse he can let his friends and loved ones down at the precise moment he was most needed - or rather, he was for once needed. He's no fool, and he's noticed well this pattern... for now at least, he's trying his best to keep everything behind a veneer of coolness, talking with elegance if only to buy the time he direly needs to figure the situation for himself, or not talking at all. Post-Catastrophe, he's still determined himself to help others whenever he can, but with the situation as bizarre as it is, Shritt fears it may be safest for him and for everyone besides if he keeps all he should meet; carefully, just at arm's length. Damage limitation, you could say. |
[attr="class","tempo"]
[attr="class","appbox2"]
Backstreets of Blackpool, that's where Shritt was born and raised. The town with the sun, sand, and the sea; that's what some of them said, and well, Blackpool sported at least 2 of them most days. Objectively? Yeah, it wasn't an enviable place to be growing up. That old holiday town; it was like a pidgeon-shit stained, decomposing aril of a seed that'd never quite found the energy to sprout into the broad lily that'd been promised. I guess it was more of a dandelion... there was jobs, bustling streets and easy money to be made always, oftentimes even legally. But then with the breath of a litany of 'economic factors' a gaggle of people with alphabet soup after their names enjoyed to rattle on about; none of them quite understanding, certainly none of them caring for the people who'd made Blackpool their home... in any case, times changed, and prosperity was carried off on the winds that hurtled rough-and-ready over the beaches, charging between the bones of the ever-more ramshackle piers.
Not a promising start, not where the people were poor, the houses were tumbledown, and the snakes at government didn't want to know. That said, the bleakness is perhaps, unnecessary to tell... because, it never really seemed so bad for Shritt. He grew up a well-liked lad, one who knew well the importance of looking out for others around. And the people of Blackpool were hearty, and they always paid back a favour, no question of it. So the years went by, he was the only child of his family but he genuinely felt like he had countless brothers and sisters all over town. He was adaptable, he told people what they wanted to hear but he never knowingly fibbed with what he said.
As for schooling - on the quiet - he was even something of a prodigy. He was a young creator, a writer, even an occasional artist. He worked hard, but he was well aware that he found many things a great deal easier to get-to than his friends, and that pained him. He was so grateful that so many people cared for him, and wanted to see him succeed. But it could tend from support, to people talking a big game about the boy, especially as he grew into his teenage years. They said: he was going to shake up Parliament, or he was gonna write a bestselling book series, other tall tales... Shritt, somehow, became akin to an engine for other people's desires, and he didn't even think twice as he in his youth took on these hopes with a smile.
For all his supposed intellect, he can't really pinpoint where exactly it fell apart.
It was a gradual thing, but that's... well, that's the classic. Sometimes lives get torn up in a day - with hindsight, Shritt probably would've preferred it that way. At least he'd have a defining moment to show for this trouble, something to point the finger out; to go, "There! That's why. It had to happen." But the decline wasn't so kind as to be dramatic. Shritt grew - with some justification - deeply dissatisfied with his own capabilities, then even with his own work ethic to boot. He felt deeply that he'd been bullshitting the system to have the looks of a genius, and worse bullshitting his friends and family for his whole life, leading them to believe he was something special. A visionary! He hated to think on that. How was he supposed to speak for others; not that anyone had the right to as he saw it, when he could barely even speak for himself? Time was running out, it seemed. Sooner or later his smooth knowledge of how to handle things, his luck, it'd all run out. He'd plough into a wall, and then everyone'd know that they were wrong to see these qualities. In some sense he relished the thought, but he was most fearful he'd been manipulating people from the start. Without even knowing it.
His concerns that he was being led into a destiny he could not fulfill, that he'd been given things without truly earning them for his lifetime, grew to dominate his thoughts day and night. He suffered nightmares that lasted for what seemed like days on end but could only have been a couple hours, he started driving his friends away, cutting contact and hiding wherever and whenever he could. It was a bizarre turn of mind from Shritt, and ill-timed at that. In any case, he got what he wanted; or feared, whatever. He fluffed his exams, he forgot his people... and eventually, people forgot him save for an occasional baffled word around.
His family, for the record - they did care. They knew some of the truth, not to mention some of his thinking, but it was all too hard for anyone to comprehend. Shritt himself, he was supposed to be the guy who could talk for England if need be, but his tongue was caught when it came to this. They were well-meaning, but overbearing, and since most everyone'd shipped out of his home town now A-Levels, Apprenticeships and BTECs all had passed, Shritt figured it was gone past time he did the same. So with an abrupt letter to his family and a day's worth of bussing overland, he took out a dirt-cheap and dirt-sheened room in the grim Northeast city of Hull, and that had to be the end of his ambition, any grasping expectations that'd persisted. He took a few part-time jobs, kept his head down and his mouth clapped shut, that was the way to go.
Granted, Shritt'd never been a gamer as a kid, though even with a young man determined to keep to himself - everyone needs some way or another to keep company, and keep the brain occupied. And something even perversely appealed to him about them, in their simplicity of cause and effect. There was nothing that had to be understood and reasoned with in a videogame. It was just, the likes of killing 10 grey wolves, no chit-chat, no moral grey areas and no debate. When the job was done, nice - here's your reward. Code couldn't lie, and code wouldn't hand you and only you things on a platter. Everyone had different methods, but they got the precise same deal, and that was what young Shritt had always wanted to see life embody above all.
So even with his clapped-out toaster laptop that elicited the harrumphing coughs of an old man whenever Shritt so much as ran Microsoft Paint on it, he still couldn't resist giving the much-vaunted Elder Tale Online a shot - Hell, he was looking forward to seeing the Northeast carpeted with violent, slap-faced and semi-brained inhabitants (that being before Shritt found out that Elder Tale's 'U.K' wasn't that accurate to real life).
It's not much of a surprise by now that even this innocuous choice ended up as another disaster.
Backstreets of Blackpool, that's where Shritt was born and raised. The town with the sun, sand, and the sea; that's what some of them said, and well, Blackpool sported at least 2 of them most days. Objectively? Yeah, it wasn't an enviable place to be growing up. That old holiday town; it was like a pidgeon-shit stained, decomposing aril of a seed that'd never quite found the energy to sprout into the broad lily that'd been promised. I guess it was more of a dandelion... there was jobs, bustling streets and easy money to be made always, oftentimes even legally. But then with the breath of a litany of 'economic factors' a gaggle of people with alphabet soup after their names enjoyed to rattle on about; none of them quite understanding, certainly none of them caring for the people who'd made Blackpool their home... in any case, times changed, and prosperity was carried off on the winds that hurtled rough-and-ready over the beaches, charging between the bones of the ever-more ramshackle piers.
Not a promising start, not where the people were poor, the houses were tumbledown, and the snakes at government didn't want to know. That said, the bleakness is perhaps, unnecessary to tell... because, it never really seemed so bad for Shritt. He grew up a well-liked lad, one who knew well the importance of looking out for others around. And the people of Blackpool were hearty, and they always paid back a favour, no question of it. So the years went by, he was the only child of his family but he genuinely felt like he had countless brothers and sisters all over town. He was adaptable, he told people what they wanted to hear but he never knowingly fibbed with what he said.
As for schooling - on the quiet - he was even something of a prodigy. He was a young creator, a writer, even an occasional artist. He worked hard, but he was well aware that he found many things a great deal easier to get-to than his friends, and that pained him. He was so grateful that so many people cared for him, and wanted to see him succeed. But it could tend from support, to people talking a big game about the boy, especially as he grew into his teenage years. They said: he was going to shake up Parliament, or he was gonna write a bestselling book series, other tall tales... Shritt, somehow, became akin to an engine for other people's desires, and he didn't even think twice as he in his youth took on these hopes with a smile.
For all his supposed intellect, he can't really pinpoint where exactly it fell apart.
It was a gradual thing, but that's... well, that's the classic. Sometimes lives get torn up in a day - with hindsight, Shritt probably would've preferred it that way. At least he'd have a defining moment to show for this trouble, something to point the finger out; to go, "There! That's why. It had to happen." But the decline wasn't so kind as to be dramatic. Shritt grew - with some justification - deeply dissatisfied with his own capabilities, then even with his own work ethic to boot. He felt deeply that he'd been bullshitting the system to have the looks of a genius, and worse bullshitting his friends and family for his whole life, leading them to believe he was something special. A visionary! He hated to think on that. How was he supposed to speak for others; not that anyone had the right to as he saw it, when he could barely even speak for himself? Time was running out, it seemed. Sooner or later his smooth knowledge of how to handle things, his luck, it'd all run out. He'd plough into a wall, and then everyone'd know that they were wrong to see these qualities. In some sense he relished the thought, but he was most fearful he'd been manipulating people from the start. Without even knowing it.
His concerns that he was being led into a destiny he could not fulfill, that he'd been given things without truly earning them for his lifetime, grew to dominate his thoughts day and night. He suffered nightmares that lasted for what seemed like days on end but could only have been a couple hours, he started driving his friends away, cutting contact and hiding wherever and whenever he could. It was a bizarre turn of mind from Shritt, and ill-timed at that. In any case, he got what he wanted; or feared, whatever. He fluffed his exams, he forgot his people... and eventually, people forgot him save for an occasional baffled word around.
His family, for the record - they did care. They knew some of the truth, not to mention some of his thinking, but it was all too hard for anyone to comprehend. Shritt himself, he was supposed to be the guy who could talk for England if need be, but his tongue was caught when it came to this. They were well-meaning, but overbearing, and since most everyone'd shipped out of his home town now A-Levels, Apprenticeships and BTECs all had passed, Shritt figured it was gone past time he did the same. So with an abrupt letter to his family and a day's worth of bussing overland, he took out a dirt-cheap and dirt-sheened room in the grim Northeast city of Hull, and that had to be the end of his ambition, any grasping expectations that'd persisted. He took a few part-time jobs, kept his head down and his mouth clapped shut, that was the way to go.
Granted, Shritt'd never been a gamer as a kid, though even with a young man determined to keep to himself - everyone needs some way or another to keep company, and keep the brain occupied. And something even perversely appealed to him about them, in their simplicity of cause and effect. There was nothing that had to be understood and reasoned with in a videogame. It was just, the likes of killing 10 grey wolves, no chit-chat, no moral grey areas and no debate. When the job was done, nice - here's your reward. Code couldn't lie, and code wouldn't hand you and only you things on a platter. Everyone had different methods, but they got the precise same deal, and that was what young Shritt had always wanted to see life embody above all.
So even with his clapped-out toaster laptop that elicited the harrumphing coughs of an old man whenever Shritt so much as ran Microsoft Paint on it, he still couldn't resist giving the much-vaunted Elder Tale Online a shot - Hell, he was looking forward to seeing the Northeast carpeted with violent, slap-faced and semi-brained inhabitants (that being before Shritt found out that Elder Tale's 'U.K' wasn't that accurate to real life).
It's not much of a surprise by now that even this innocuous choice ended up as another disaster.
[attr="class","tempo"]
[attr="class","appbox3"]
Armor:
Left Arm:
Right Arm:
Accessory Slot 1:
Accessory Slot 2:
Accessory Slot 3:
Accessory Slot 4:
Vanity Slot 1:
Vanity Slot 2:
Vanity Slot 3:
Armor:
[attr="class","equip1"]Starter Cloth Armor: A basic set of cloth armor made from cheap fabric. They are not really protective, but they are better than going naked—probably. You probably do want to replace these asap, when you think about it.
Left Arm:
[attr="class","equip1"]Starter Long Bow: A starter weapon designed for novice adventurers, made out of cheap wood. It is well-balanced and easy to use but doesn’t hit particularly hard at all. You probably should get this replaced as soon as you can.
Right Arm:
[attr="class","equip1"]Empty
Accessory Slot 1:
[attr="class","equip2"]Empty
Accessory Slot 2:
[attr="class","equip2"]Empty
Accessory Slot 3:
[attr="class","equip2"]Empty
Accessory Slot 4:
[attr="class","equip2"]Empty
Vanity Slot 1:
[attr="class","equip2"]Empty
Vanity Slot 2:
[attr="class","equip2"]Empty
Vanity Slot 3:
[attr="class","equip2"]Empty
[attr="class","tempo"]
[attr="class","appbox4"]Wooden Arrow: A basic wooden arrow. Not really strong, but cheap and can be easily mass produced.
[attr="class","tempo"]
[attr="class","appbox3"]
Enchanter:
Hunter:
Artisan:
Enchanter:
[attr="class","skillbox1"]
Electrical Fuzz - Tier 1 - This spell attaches a small electrical orb to all nearby enemies within 10 meters, brightly illuminates their figure and irritating their vision. Targets take extremely minor electric damage every few seconds. Rather than being used as a damage dealing skill, Electrical Fuzz is mostly used for utility in order to keep the party aware of the enemy's positions. This makes it very helpful to keep track of evasive classes, such as Assassins. This skill has a cast time of 2 seconds, a duration of 40 seconds, and a cooldown of 10 seconds.
Astral Bind - Tier 1 - Astral Bind is best known for its quick casting speed, causing magical chains to shackle the target's limbs and restrict any movement further than about a meter. Because of this, it's especially effective against DPS melee fighters, but not so much for ranged or magic classes. It normally wears off after 6 seconds, but can be resisted against to reduce its duration by roughly 2 seconds. A target who chooses to resist may not perform any offensive skills for 2 seconds after the binding is lifted. This skill's debuff classification is Mind. This skill has a casting time of 1.5 seconds and a cooldown of 10 seconds.
[Adventurer] Rapid Shot - Tier 1 - A physical ranged attack. While adventurers normally favor the blade in combat, some prefer striking from afar, staying unseen even as their victims breathe their last breaths. As the user is somewhat limited by the strength of their bows, unable to apply their full strength at time, Rapid Shot was designed to increase the number of arrows that can be fired. In the time that it takes for most of fire one arrow, a user of this technique can fire two. Accuracy is slightly reduced however, as the user cannot take the time to focus their aim with this technique. This skill may be used with a firearms weapon to fire a bullet 50% faster but retaining the same damage. This skill has an animation time of 1 second [1/6 Post / Instant] and a cooldown of 10 seconds [1 1/2 Post].
Electrical Fuzz - Tier 1 - This spell attaches a small electrical orb to all nearby enemies within 10 meters, brightly illuminates their figure and irritating their vision. Targets take extremely minor electric damage every few seconds. Rather than being used as a damage dealing skill, Electrical Fuzz is mostly used for utility in order to keep the party aware of the enemy's positions. This makes it very helpful to keep track of evasive classes, such as Assassins. This skill has a cast time of 2 seconds, a duration of 40 seconds, and a cooldown of 10 seconds.
Astral Bind - Tier 1 - Astral Bind is best known for its quick casting speed, causing magical chains to shackle the target's limbs and restrict any movement further than about a meter. Because of this, it's especially effective against DPS melee fighters, but not so much for ranged or magic classes. It normally wears off after 6 seconds, but can be resisted against to reduce its duration by roughly 2 seconds. A target who chooses to resist may not perform any offensive skills for 2 seconds after the binding is lifted. This skill's debuff classification is Mind. This skill has a casting time of 1.5 seconds and a cooldown of 10 seconds.
[Adventurer] Rapid Shot - Tier 1 - A physical ranged attack. While adventurers normally favor the blade in combat, some prefer striking from afar, staying unseen even as their victims breathe their last breaths. As the user is somewhat limited by the strength of their bows, unable to apply their full strength at time, Rapid Shot was designed to increase the number of arrows that can be fired. In the time that it takes for most of fire one arrow, a user of this technique can fire two. Accuracy is slightly reduced however, as the user cannot take the time to focus their aim with this technique. This skill may be used with a firearms weapon to fire a bullet 50% faster but retaining the same damage. This skill has an animation time of 1 second [1/6 Post / Instant] and a cooldown of 10 seconds [1 1/2 Post].
Hunter:
[attr="class","skillbox2"]
Marksmanship - Level 1 - Passive skill. The Hunter's bow damage passively increases by 10% to all monsters and an additional 10% to beast-type monsters. Additionally, if the Hunter's main class would normally penalize them from using bows, this skill allows them to use bows without penalty.
Marksmanship - Level 1 - Passive skill. The Hunter's bow damage passively increases by 10% to all monsters and an additional 10% to beast-type monsters. Additionally, if the Hunter's main class would normally penalize them from using bows, this skill allows them to use bows without penalty.
Artisan:
[attr="class","skillbox2"]
Carving - Level 1 - Toggle skill. Artisans have a certain affinity with carving stone, making their normal artistic talents not to be underestimated in battle. Artisans deal 20% more damage to Rock-type monsters. They can also ignore defense buffs on Rock-type monsters.
Carving - Level 1 - Toggle skill. Artisans have a certain affinity with carving stone, making their normal artistic talents not to be underestimated in battle. Artisans deal 20% more damage to Rock-type monsters. They can also ignore defense buffs on Rock-type monsters.
[attr="class","tempo"]
[attr="class","appbox5"]
[attr="class","tempo"]
[attr="class","appbox5"]
[attr="class","sig"]
Coded by Saber of L33T Team
Graphics by Evelyn, Scrollbars by Benetnasch
Graphics by Evelyn, Scrollbars by Benetnasch
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