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Old Jun 17th, 2014, 11:01 AM
GreenLantern's Avatar
GreenLantern GreenLantern is offline
Space Sector 2814
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Last Visit: Jul 23rd, 2014
RPXP: 122
GreenLantern GreenLantern
Posts: 199
Star Charts

Place your character app alongside a link to your character sheet here.
Due to real life circumstances, I regrettably must take my leave of RPGx. I am terribly sorry about my departure. I don't know when or if I am going to be back.
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Old Jun 29th, 2014, 02:46 PM
dbaque's Avatar
dbaque dbaque is offline
Community Supporter
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Last Visit: May 27th, 2023
RPXP: 20775
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Character Application
Name: Padre Santiago "Matamoros" Aragon

Age: 40 (though looks like in his late 20s)

World: Hellsing (Ultimate version)

Race: Human (a bio-enhanced with physical prowess and regenerationregenerator also, but this may be better to mimic as a world class ability)

Class: Inquisitor/As such, his skill set will eventually include the following as he develops: Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Speed/Agility, Advanced Regeneration, Enhanced Durability, Elongated Life-Span, Summoning/Flinging Blessed Weaponry, Holy Barriers/Wards, Blessed Magic.Paladin Regenerator

Appearance: Padre Santiago is always found clad his black clerical cassock with a white collar, as well as an ashen cloak about his shoulders and a silver crucifix about his neck, not a piece out of place and the soul of decorous poise. Only worn boots and gloves suggest a more active lifestyle than the typical clergyman. Topping his tall and lanky build is short dark brown hair tightly cropped upon his head. Intense eyes of deep green (a symptom of becoming a regenerator) stare with a soul-searching gaze. Normally, his eyes hold a merry smile and his lips nothing but a kind and patient word. In stark contrast, battle or the hunt finds his gaze deathly cold and his smile mirthless and unsettling.

Personality: Padre Santiago seems, at first glance, a calm, collected, respectable, and kindly priest. And you would right. He is a devoted servant of Our Lord & His Church and genuinely cares for those of His people he is blessed to come across. The priest is jovial, talkative, considerate, and looks for the best in people. The contrast between his norm and when the good padre is on assignment for the Iscariot Organization is downright eerie. Gone is any mirth or mercy from his countenance. In their place is the glee and thrill of the spilled blood of monstrous demons skulking the night. The strain of such a schizoid contrast between kindly warmth and icy judgment would drive a lesser man mad. But Padre Santiago is at peace with his dual mission, to both preach the good news and put the unholy to the sword. He is often found likening his bloody quest to Spain's Reconquista. This penchant soon led to his nickname among the Iscariot.

Born to a noble but devout Spaniard family in northern Spain, Santiago was, at first, a simple curate. But his family was among the few ancient Catholic lines privy to the secret war waged against the undead, werewolves, and other fiends of the night. Santiago's brothers were among the divisions sent by the Vatican to wage the Ninth Crusade at London, but they fell along with the rest against the Nazi vampire battalions and the undead hordes of the Hellsing pet vampire Alucard.

Though grieving for his brothers, Santiago was incensed at their loss in the war against the undead. He flexed the influence of his noble family to contact the secret Iscariot Organization, the militant order of hunters and assassins for the Catholic Church. Padre Santiago wished to offer himself in his brothers' place in the holy war on the monster and the heathen. Iscariot had also lost their finest warrior in the crusade at London, the fearsome paladin regenerator Father Alexander Anderson. Sensing this young curate's zeal and determination, Iscariot offered him the chance to become the order's new paladin regenerator. Padre Santiago agreed. He was subjected to the wracking process and training regiment that allowed a human to gain strength and resilience to match the monsters they fought, a process precious few had the will to survive, but survive he did. Afterward, the new fledgling paladin was gifted with a set of short swords (modified versions of Father Alexander's old blessed bayonets) which would become his signature weapon on the hunt.
Happy Easter!
"The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon."
-G.K. Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles (1909), XVII: "The Red Angel"

Last edited by dbaque; Jul 23rd, 2014 at 08:43 AM. Reason: removed sheet link
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Old Jun 29th, 2014, 02:52 PM
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Yuul Yuul is offline
Master of Undeath
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Last Visit: Dec 3rd, 2022
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ApplicationName: Revak Lone-Cloak

Titles/Aliases: Dragonborn/Dovakiin

Age: 27

World: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Race: Nord

Class: Ranger||Dragonborn/Dovakiin

Appearance: Revak stands tall at a few inches past six feet, and his shoulders broad. In this, he is very much what you might expect from a typical Nord. His muscles are thick and toned from a life making use of them, surpassing many of his fellow Nords even, a point he often proves in arm wrestling or even full on fist fighting, just friendly of course, well, usually, with others when staying at an inn. His hair is brown, with more than a few strands of lighter blonde within it's shoulder length mass, and he often forgets to cut it with his knife until it gets a fair bit longer than that. He has fair enough face, with a strong jaw and inset with dark blue eyes. Much like his hair though, his chin often gets quite scraggly before he will remember to shave it with his knife. He did it with his greatsword once on a dare whilst drunk, very slowly, just to prove he could. Close calls aside, the added gold wasn't bad either.

Though his face is surprisingly not scarred given his lifestyle, he does have a nasty looking trio on his back from where he narrowly escaped being mauled by a sabre tooth cat, something he is quite proud of, as well as a nearly complete wolf bite on his left arm. Most Nords are of their scars. When out in the wilds he wears his aged but well kept studded leather armor for protection along with a cloak to better blend in amongst the terrain. When going into a fight however, he takes his helmet out of his pack for better protection. He wears his greatsword, bow, and quiver slung over his back, his trusty handaxe stuck in the right side of his belt, and his knife in his right boot.

Personality: Though a hunter and a woodsman by trade, Revak is also a challenge seeker with a love for exploration. He has taken on the task of bounty hunting bandits and other odd jobs more than once, and doesn't shy away from confrontations. Whilst this has gotten him in over his head on a couple of occasions, just ask him about the time with the giant, he will usually laugh later whilst sharing a drink with those frequenting his inn of choice for the night. When not fighting, Revak is a pretty easy going guy, if a fair bit rough and tumble. He will take on most dares or challenges, unless they are outright suicidal, and has made a fair number of coins when wagers are place on them. When fighting however, he takes on cool and focused mindset, and often issues taunts and mocks his enemies if they are not mere beasts.

Background: Revak was born as the third child and second son to a couple living in Falkreath, one of Skyrim's nine holds, perhaps the most heavily forested and responsible of half of the province's southern border. Revak's parents owned a sawmill on the borders of lake Ilinalta, one they had started two years after they married, and ten years before Revak was born. It was something Revak learned to help operate as soon as he was old enough, along with his elder brother. As much as that brother grew to enjoy life as a forester, Revak found his calling the first time his father took him hunting. It had been an interesting experience when during it he had wound up separated from his father and facing a pair of rather vicious wolves. He was a ten year old boy, armed with nothing but the small bow and belt knife his father had given him, but he was not paralyzed by fear, nor did he run in fright, as most others might have.

Instead he felt that base fear and the adrenaline flowing through him, and found himself strangely excited, though he would not recognize that feeling as it was until afterwards. Revak let fly an arrow that he had already nocked before the wolves had found him, but his hasty shot only struck one of the beasts in the left flank, which served only to slow it down and make it angry. Well, angrier. Meanwhile it's partner lunged for the boy and pushed him to the ground. It was by no small measure of luck that Revak managed to fend off its snapping jaws with his bow, and while he was strong for his age, he wouldn't be able to keep it up as the wolf applied more pressure. Yanking a hand from his bow even as the predator got past his last defense, he grabbed his belt knife and shoved it up into the beast's chest. Though he didn't know it, the boy had struck through to the heart of the animal, if only barely, and the sight of the blood from his first hunting kill gave Revak pause even after it had toppled to the side.

It was a pause that very nearly got him killed. Again. Only seeing a blur of movement at the edge of his vision had him shoving up his spare arm to defend himself. It was an arm the second wolf took some form of joy in biting down around. Revak screamed, whilst trying to stab the wolf in his panic. He was still stabbing the beast minutes after it had died, and that was how his father found him. After days spent healing, with many wondering what fear this might have given him of the woods and beasts, Revak instead got in troubling for wandering right back out into the woods, this time entirely alone. In a way, this set the tone for the rest of his life thus far, seeking out challenges and dangers when many a smarter, or perhaps saner, man would have turned back for safety.

The first time he killed another man, happened not long after he himself had become a man. Two days after setting to find where his life may take him, and perhaps a little self discovery, his path lead him to the scene of a bunch of bandits making to rob one of the khajiit caravans. Now one thing that stuck by him through his parents various life lessons was a fairly firm sense of right and wrong, and of standing up and doing something about it when those beliefs were in question. So almost before he knew it the young man was running into the right, shooting arrows all the while, before making use of more than one trick he had learned in childhood brawls. He remembered his father once saying that if you were ever fighting for your life, there's no such thing as dirty fighting. So Revak fought in what during a brawl would have been called dirty. He kicked other men between the legs, tossed dirt in another's eyes whilst headbutting that one's friend.

In the end he, along with the caravaneers prevailed, and the khajiit were certainly grateful. Revak found himself with a ride to the next town over, and his pick of any one item they currently had in their wares. After a few practice swings, that item ended up being the greatsword he still carries today. Still, years passed and Revak traveled all across Skyrim, even climbed the seven thousand steps of the Throat of the World just to say he had. A year ago though, he set his sights beyond Skyrim to Cyrodil, wishing to see sights beyond his homeland. Now however, only a week ago he was making the return journey as he crossed the border near Darkwater Crossing, where he got caught in the looming civil war and was captured alongside the Stormcloaks, though he had done nothing. That led to his near beheading at Helgen, only for it to be interrupted by the appearance of a great black dragon, Alduin, though he did not know it then or even now.

By some stroke of the fortuitous luck that has followed him throughout his life, he managed to escape the burning town, which led him to Riverwood. Riverwood led him to Whiterun, as the people of the village wanted the Jarl to send aid with the danger of possible dragons about. The Jarl sent Revak to his court wizard Farengar, who in turn sent Revak almost all the way back to Riverwood to delve into Bleak Falls Barrow, through a bunch of bandits and the twisted draugr, ancient undead guardians, to retrieve some stone. The most challenging fight he had ever had in the form of some kind of draugr lord at the end notwithstanding, the most interesting part of the whole event was the strange rune covered wall at the back of the last room. He heard some kind of whispering chant in the back of his mind as one of the series of runes, perhaps a word, began to glow as if streaming into his eyes. Fus it whispered after the lights had left, which made him think 'force', although he wasn't sure why. Ignoring it for now he made to leave the barrow, and returned to Whiterun, hoping for a good long rest. He was in no such luck, though, for a dragon had apparently started attacking one of the city's outlying watchtowers beyond the walls. The Jarl, in his great wisdom, sent his houscarl, a troop of guards, and of course Revak off to investigate, and drive it off it possible.

If Revak had thought the fight with the undead lord at the end of Bleak Falls Barrow a challenge, it was nothing next to fighting Mirmulnir. He only even knew its name after he had killed it, when a similar but far more intense version of the light show from the word wall occurred as the beast's scales seemed to burn away into ash and then that strange light before flying into him. It was a strange connection, and the word spoken into his mind by the rune covered wall from before had a strange importance to it now. He didn't make the connection to the two events however, that was left to one of the surviving guardsmen exclaiming "Dragonborn!" before bringing up the old tales that they had each in turn heard from their parents. Well except the Jarl's dunmer housecarl. When asked to try shouting, like the dragonborn was supposedly able to do, the word from before was all that stuck in his head. "FUS!" The resulting force kicked up a surprising amount of dust in addition to knocking the nearby dragon skeleton's head to one side. Whatever might have happened next we don't know, as events were interrupted...
PIG: Birch VERSES China, Fight!
Me: money is on Birch for the record.

Last edited by Yuul; Jun 29th, 2014 at 02:52 PM.
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Old Jun 29th, 2014, 11:33 PM
Eris Renfield's Avatar
Eris Renfield Eris Renfield is offline
Great Wyrm
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Last Visit: May 28th, 2015
RPXP: 2165
Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield Eris Renfield
Posts: 1,846
Character Application
left-aligned image

Age: 25

World: BioShock

Race: Human

Class: Alchemist/ Telekinetic

Personality: Quirky. She seems incredibly intelligent, and is really serious most of the time, possessing a somewhat dry and cynical wit. However, she slips into her act of insanity at times, and one might wonder if it is actually an act, or if maybe the drugs are starting to affect her. She can periodically go off on random tangents, be caught in a sudden obsession, or take actions that seem to make no sense. She talks to herself a lot. She also has an odd glint in her eyes that suggests she might just commit random acts of violence, despite the fact that she hasn't done that. Yet.

Background: Miriam was a citizen of Rapture during the fall. She was working her way through graduate school, majoring in Chemistry and Genetic Manipulation, hoping to eventually find a way to counteract the addictive properties of plasmids. She was also an addict herself, and had begun developing telekinetic abilities from her use of ADAM. Thus, she had some idea of the storm that it would eventually cause. She was ready for it. After the fall, she did what she had to in order to survive, living in a self-designed panic room. When she went out for provisions, she dressed and behaved as if she were one of the Splicers, so people left her alone, for the most part. Those who didn't were met with her bombs, concoctions, and telekinetic ability, with sometimes messy results.
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Old Jun 30th, 2014, 08:09 AM
TucksRavin TucksRavin is offline
Juvenile Dragon
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Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2015
RPXP: 52
Posts: 48
Name:Aeolus Sestius Ventus

Age: 19

World: Assassin's Creed Universe: Ancient Rome

Race: Human

Class:Pathfinder class/ Assassin and Centurion



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Old Jul 1st, 2014, 01:28 AM
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Kaji Kaji is offline
Pupil of Acala-vidyārāja
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Last Visit: Oct 7th, 2021
RPXP: 7380
Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji Kaji
Posts: 4,686
Character Application
Name: Theodore Truscott
Age: 20
World: Gotham City
Race: Human
Class: Swordsage (
To create a monklike character with a tremendous array of fantastic moves and strikes, give the swordsage the monk's unarmed strike progression and remove his light armor proficiency.
unarmed variant) / Based on Christopher Nolan's film trilogyBatman




Character Sheet (WIP)

Last edited by Kaji; Jul 15th, 2014 at 01:33 AM.
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