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Studio Ghibli RP


Channelknight Fadran

The Setting, ctnd  

13 members have voted

  1. 1. The Final Decision

    • Laputa-era war, with wizards wielding powerful crystal magic and taking over the world in the name of their Castle in the Sky
      1
    • Steampunk-era war, with nations all over yeeting wizards and bombs at their enemies
      9
    • Spirit-era war, with spirits and humans finally deciding that they hate each others' guts enough that death is the only solution
      3


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*sighs* Guess I’m doing this now.

My character:

Spoiler

Name: Aramis Darcio

Age: 17, almost 18

Profession: Steam Mechanic; considered to be one of the best. At least, that’s what he says.

Witch/Wizard: Yes, but mostly no. He only knows one spell, but that’s it.

Skills: Very skilled mechanic, despite his young age; considers himself to be an inventor, and has managed to sell some of those inventions; the only spell he knows is to give a little life to his creations, like… uh, I’ll just show you in a bit lol; and if it were required of him, he could be a fairly decent shot with the sniper, but he never does that ‘cause mechanic. If he has a weapon on him, it would be a revolver of his own making.

Appearance: i can finally put this sketchy to use Blueish-black hair, cool gray eyes, heh g o g g l e s, usually wears a dark blue-ish gray button-up underneath a brown vest, and can be seen with leather gloves; either slim fit or those big bulky ones.

Spoiler

D45AC66F-B1CF-4CD6-B927-ADE8723FAD76.thumb.jpeg.7b8e9332563b2b46503b86f76dd918de.jpeg

Personality: Basically he’s smart and good at his job and he knows it lol. He’s not super boastful about his intellect, but there are more times where he can be smug. He generally has a good attitude and pretty upbeat, despite being in the middle of a battle/war.

And I hope you don’t mind me taking a wee bit of creative liberty >.> <.< >.>

The generals around him argued with one another, debating on which strategy they should use against the enemy. One slammed her hand on the table, pointing at the figurines representing the enemy army in front of a fortress, then pushing some figurines representing their army flanking the other army on the left. The table groaned, bringing up points of how that wouldn’t work and they were trying to make sure their army was relatively intact after this.

And what was Aramis doing?

Why, tinkering, of course.

He fiddled with one of the general’s detached mechanical arms, twisting a few screws out of place to look inside. The copper was well-taken care of––the shiny polish told him that much––but what was confusing was how the arm was, as General Eskel said, acting like a rookie trying the obstacle course on the first day. He placed his goggles over his spectacles, preventing them from falling off his nose. Aramis held the screws in his mouth, freeing his hands to feel around on the insides.

“Definitely lubricated, so that’s out of the question,” he muttered with clenched teeth, slick oil coating the insides, ignoring the bickering generals. “Most likely Zeke’s workmanship, can’t be too–– aha––” Aramis felt the Zeke’s engraving on the inside of the forearm “––oh, you don’t disappoint, Zeke; although, I would’ve put more pistons in the joints than what you usually do. Really limits arm movement, tsk tsk tsk.”

“What was that?” General Eskel asked, turning to Aramis, trying her best to fold her arms with… well, only one.

“Nothing, ma’am,” he sang, wiping his brow with an oily hand. “Talking to myself. Pay no attention to me.”

Aramis pulled his hand out, bringing up his candle to peer inside. Again, nothing came up. Everything seemed to be in tip-top order. As forgetful as Zeke was when it came to arm movement and how many pistons he added, it appeared to be in working order. Then what was…?

He snapped his fingers, turning the arm to look at the socket where it would attach to General Eskel’s actual arm. The candlelight washed the inside to see…

“Aha,” Aramis said, grinning as he pulled out a tiny screwdriver, removing a few screws to see the mechanical heart of the creation.

It turned a dull color than what Aramis was used to seeing. Usually, it was full of life, no matter if it was or not attached to the user. Of course Zeke forgot to mention to Eskel that it needed to be brought to a Steam Mechanic––much like himself––that could fix this before it became a bigger problem. It would have resulted in Eskel going to Zeke for an inspection, which would’ve just resulted in Zeke making her pay more money for a new arm. Classic mechanic scam.

He touched the heart with his screwdriver. “Time to come back to life,” he breathed, a surge of magical energy traveling down the screwdriver, causing the heart to burst alight with new life.

“There you go,” Aramis whispered, grinning as he began to close and clean up.

“So, we just keep pushing till they give in?” a general asked, finally catching Aramis’ attention.

“What else do you suggest?” another general said.

Grumbles of agreement sounded from around the wartable, even from the general who yelled first. Some straightened themselves, beginning to stand up to relay the orders to the soldiers in the battle below.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Aramis muttered, tsking as he wiped the arm down.

The generals stopped in their tracks, looking towards him happily cleaning the arm. The general––most likely the one over all of them, but Aramis didn’t care––on the other side of the table glared at him.

“What was that, boy?” he hissed.

“I said––” Aramis brought the arm up to inspect, wiping down some more spots he missed, ignoring the general’s burning gaze “––I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Oh, and what would you do, then?”

“Since you asked…” Aramis stood up, walking over to the table, still wiping the arm for a second. He pointed at the fortress with a screwdriver. “First off, their strategy is to tire your forces out. Since they have a fortress, they can have their soldiers come in and rest and pump out fresh troops, while your soldiers haven’t seen a wink of sleep since they were home. 

“Instead of facing them head-on like an idiot,” he said, dividing the generals’ forces into manageable groups, “just take them on one group at a time while your other troops rest for a bit. Distract them while you figure out a covert way into the fortress. Taking them head-on is a death wish. You don’t need a couple promotions to see that.”

The generals fell silent, looking between him and the wartable. Aramis walked over to General Eskel, humming to himself.

“Why infiltrate?” another general asked.

“May I?” Aramis asked Eskel, who nodded. He set to work on attaching the arm back to her own. “Well, sir, it’s better and more efficient to attack when they’re least expecting it. They’re expecting you to go head-on; in fact, they’re counting on it. That’s their plan. Subvert that plan by making them think that you’re playing into their hands, then infiltrate when they’re not looking. Can’t believe a person like myself without any experience can figure that out. What am I talking about? Of course I did.”

He wrapped the leather around Eskel’s arm, tightening it and then a few screws, calibrating the arm as much as he could. He wiped off the copper surface, humming quietly to himself.

“Fine,” the head general sighed, footsteps of the generals moving around him to relay the information to their forces. “What did you say your name was, boy?”

He looked back at the general, grinning like a dork. “Aramis Darcio, General. Best Steam Mechanic in the land,” he said, finishing up as he stood up and bent over Eskel. “When you’re having trouble with your arm again, come to me. If you like this style of arm, good for you. I just have better options.”

Eskel nodded, rolling her mechanical hand, visibly impressed with the work he did, of course. She stood up, nodding to both the head general and Aramis before walking out to her own forces.

Aramis removed his goggles, then placed his hands on his hips as he looked back at the head general. “There something you want me to fix?” he grinned.

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1 hour ago, Frustration said:

"Well, then stay here with me." Coniffine said. "Goodness knows I could use some help these days."

The colonel rolled his eyes, and tossed his hand dismissively. "Fine! Ya wouldn't be anythin' less than bullet fodder anyways."

Tina sucked in a breath, blinking as tears sprang to her eyes. She dropped her head to her knees, shaking.

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To Emery: Studio Ghibli is a film studio who makes AMAZING anime-style films. Some of their most famous films are Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, Princess Mononoke, and Ponyo. I totally recommend going and bingeing all the ones you can get your hands on, because they're absolutey amazing in every conceivable fashion.

As for the RP, we're currently working by soft rules. I'm working by a very functionalist form of soft worldbuilding for the magic. Basically, a witch/wizard probably specializes in a few forms of magic. Tina's an alchemist, the wizard we're attacking rn can bring inanimate objects to life, DramaQueen's future character can teleport... etc.

 

Edited by Channelknight Fadran
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Can my character also bring inanimate things to life or is that too much? (It was an idea I had before seeing that the wizard we're attacking can do that, and he'd literally just use it for mischief and mayhem. It's more just a party trick for him.)

 

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Sweet. Here he is:

Spoiler

Name: Josten

Age: 22

Pronouns: he/him

Profession: literally no one knows except for him and he ain't telling

Appearance: straight chin-length black hair with white underneath, dark green eyes, prolly like 6'3"

Personality: a very eccentric, skilled wizard who loves creating mayhem. He's also really flirty for literally no reason whatsoever.

Magic stuffs: his two favorite things to do with his magic are teleportation and awakening inanimate objects, mostly to cause mass chaos. 

Weapon: quarterstaff

Other skills: he cannot cook or bake for the life of him EXCEPT a very specific type of cinnamon muffin and it's to DIE for. Sometimes he'll attack the ranks with thousands of muffins, and they act annoyed but no one's actually upset cuz hey--free muffins!

Likes: causing mayhem, messing with people, being helpful while acting like a nuisance, eating, experimenting with magic etc.

Dislikes: serious situations, being at a loss of what to do, and actually getting involved in conflicts.

Other: he's blind and uses his magic to see. Also, he just makes special appearances sometimes, I don't have time to be a main character right now.

 

 

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Randy watched the ball of fire fall to the earth. It was funny in a way, he had to watch out for fireballs coming to him from below, but this way he could shoot them back.

Of course, their fireballs hadn't cost a life.

Flying had been more exciting to him, once. When the world was at peace becoming a pilot for the army seemed like the perfect way to fly and travel to new places. He had considered training to pilot a commercial aircraft, but that had seemed restrictive to him. You can fly as long as you accept the responsibility of taking dozens of passengers from one place to the other, dozens of lives on his shoulders. Now he could fly as long as he took the lives instead.

Randy was circling around a wide area, over a battlefield. The horizon was littered with black dots, moving like flies, an occasional ray of color flashing. He was in a good spot today, mostly safe, except for the occasional plane trying to get away. That was his task, making sure none did. He tried to enjoy the ride nonetheless. If he let the weight of what he was doing get to him, who knew what he would do. Better not to think too hard about it and enjoy what little he could.

He also had to be watchful of wizards attacking him from below. They were either soldiers fighting on the ground, trying to get some honor by taking down an aircraft, or specialists stationed out of sight specifically to try and thin out their air forces. Randy was told to ignore those, he couldn't risk hitting an ally. That was one of the few things he liked about his current situation, up here it was easy to tell enemy planes from allies. He wouldn't last a day down there, in the chaos.

He looked up. An enemy plane had taken down two crafts on his side in just a few seconds. They were good, maybe some kind of special forces?

No, their attack was too rash. Most people wanted to survive, as soon as they saw the team defending the area along with Randy they turned to look for a way out, no time to worry about fighting. This one though, he was trying to defeat his team, maybe infiltrate their territory. The things some people did for honor were beyond him.

Once again he steeled himself for what he was about to do and put his finger on the trigger.

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Is magic learnt in this world? Or are you born with it?

Spoiler

Name: Randy Watson

Age: 27

Profession: Pilot

Witch/Wizard: No

Skills: Cleaning, on the fly calculations, drawing.

Personality: Calm and collected, when dealing with non-magic stuff. He wanted to be a wizard when he was a kid but [blank, this will depend on the answer to the question above]. Enlisted into the army to be a pilot which was the next most exciting thing for him. Growing up he picked up drawing as a hobby and also reading. He's not able to do magic but he secretly still likes to read stories about it.

Appearance: Tall and slim, with short hair in a square haircut. Looks a little formal even in more relaxed situations.

 

 

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7 hours ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

The colonel rolled his eyes, and tossed his hand dismissively. "Fine! Ya wouldn't be anythin' less than bullet fodder anyways."

Tina sucked in a breath, blinking as tears sprang to her eyes. She dropped her head to her knees, shaking.

Coniffine placed a comforting hand on Tina's back. "Are you able to stand?"

Edited by Frustration
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1 hour ago, Eluvianii said:

Is magic learnt in this world? Or are you born with it?

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Heck if I know. Probably both.

 

1 hour ago, Frustration said:

Coniffine placed a comforting hand on Tina's back. "Are you able to stand?"

"I'm..." Tina didn't bother to try. "Gimme a minute."

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ART

It's decent, even!

Spoiler

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Frick.

 

Edited by Channelknight Fadran
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Here is my character.

Name: Ryker aka “the scoundrel of the skies.”

Age: 19

Profession: A gentleman thief/pirate.

Appearance: He is a little on the short side, and is a little scrawny (he’s a little self conscious about it). He wears a leather aviation jacket with a cotton lining, and a emerald green scarf he wears around his neck. He has jet black hair. He wears aviator goggles that stick out a little bit farther than normal. They have lenses that can be changed by switching a knob on the side of them. He also wears a bulky backpack that folds out into a set of high-pressure-steam powered wings. The controls for the wings are a bunch of switches found on his slim fit gloves. 

Personality: Greedy and cutthroat, but extremely loyal if you can befriend him. He is also respectful, and can be overly dramatic. He is also very sarcastic.

Magic: He has minor pressure magic, and major wind magic; these allow him to use what would normally be a glider as a flying machine. He does not have enough control to use it as telekinesis, but he can create powerful gusts of air.

Weapons: the metal feathers on his wings are sharp. He carries a small hand held pistol that fires bullets using a small pressure tank. He also has a few smoke grenades (he tries to sneak his way in, not fight his way in).

Skills: He is a very good pilot, and an exceptional thief. He is also very good at talking his way out of situations.

Likes: Money, flying, and adrenaline rushes.

Dislikes: Being called short, and kid. He also dislikes fights, but isn’t afraid to kill.

Other: He used to have a family, but they were killed by the war. He now thinks life has no point, and thus wants to get as comfortable as possible and wait to die (he needs money to do this). After his family died, the Silver Shrikes gang took him in after he showed skill as a pilot.

The updraft pulled on Ryker’s body. It felt as if the sky’s were begging him to dance among the winds again. 
He stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the fierce battle, still raging below. Fireballs sailed back and forth against the army and the fortress. 
“All righty, You handsome devil you,” He said to himself. “My mysterious employer has tasked me with stealing all the blueprints I can find in that there fortress.” 
He stepped away from the cliff, and over to a backpack lying on the ground. 
“They said that if I did this, then I would have enough money to never have to do anything else ever again.” He said while twisting a steam pressure canister into the pack.

“Mate, you need to stop talking to yourself; maybe we should get you a girlfriend.” He said as he swung his pack on.

“Ah, I would make a wonderful lover tis true, but as with a sailor and the sea, the skies are my mistress.” He said back to himself while tightening the straps, and locking the buckles.

“If your quite done talking to yourself, we should go.” He said walking back to the cliff. 

“Right, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he said flipping his goggles down over his eyes. “Besides, what could positively go wrong?” And having said that he fell forwards, into the canyon below.

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I can’t draw at all, so I’m not going to. My apologies to anyone who wanted a picture of the superb scoundrel of the sky.

 

Edited by Emery the Steelrunner
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17 hours ago, Emery the Steelrunner said:

I can’t draw at all, so I’m not going to. My apologies to anyone who wanted a picture of the superb scoundrel of the sky.

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My artist senses are tingling.

Dost thou require a piece of art?

 

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The wind whistled and sang as Ryker fell through the crisp clear air. He reached to his side and clicked a switch into place.

With a clang, the spring loaded wings of the pack unfurled. 

“Alright, easy in and out Ryk.” The gliding man said to himself. “Just don’t get spotted.”

He angled himself, so he would only cast a thin line of a shadow as he glided towards the fortress. This has been a trick he learned while watching the Gust-hawks of his home city of Caelum.

Unfortunately, this made the sunlight bounce off his highly reflective silvery-white, magnesium alloy wings; making him clearly visible to the circling warplanes.

Luckily, the planes appeared content to bomb the people below, and fight one another for the time being. As he was trying to not get spotted by the fortress or the soldiers below, he felt confident in his route, and smiled smugly.

@Eluvianii, and anyone else flying in a plane.

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Spoiler

Name: Rima

Age: 20

Witch/Wizard: Powerful but untrained storm witch with a particular talent ice and wind magics.

Skills: Nearly immune to heat or cold, excellent survivalist and tracker, decent with a bow or knife.

Personality: Shy and reserved, usually coming off as cold to those she's unfamiliar with. Rima lived with her family in a small mountain town until the war reached them during her sixteenth year. When they tried to resist conscription, most of her family was killed and her magic awakened, freezing the entire town and causing her to flee, terrified of herself and everyone else. Since then, she's wandered the north, trying to find somewhere she can live in peace.

Appearance: Tall, dark-skinned woman with long, curly white hair and piercing blue eyes. Typically clad in light, somewhat revealing clothing despite the conditions of her environment.

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Came up with this off the top of my head, please let me know if there are any problems.

 

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