Legacy of the Portal Heroes (Isekai/Generational/OOC/Reboot)

[Agritum]

Tag. For reasons.

[Rupudska]

Name: Emer O'Riordan

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Hero Archetype: Alchemist of the D&D sort, engineer, demolitionist

Original Time Period and Location: April 22, 1921 - Ireland - Province of Munster - County Cork - Mid Cork constituency - Muskerry region

Appearance: Peppered with freckles and just tall enough to match the average man, enabling her to easily use one-size-fits-all clothing of the era. More than a few years of carrying heavy military equipment - and running around with explosives - has left her in far better condition than many women of her era.

Personality: Emer is a visionary sort. Her devotion to the cause of Irish freedom is, even for someone so young who was so readily whipped into a nationalistic fervor by politicians, family, and friends, unshakable.The very concept of foreign rule of Ireland is anathema to her. But it goes beyond that - tyranny, in all its forms, is the highest evil a government can be accused of to her. 'Sic Semper Tyrannis' is a personal motto of her, and she would fit right at home as a freedom fighter in just about any other war. She's an idealist, the sort who believes with all her being that not merely all Catholics, not merely all Christians, but the whole of mankind yearns and deserves to be free of the yoke - and especially the yoke of kings and those that think themselves royal in stature. Equality is an important thing to her - by the standards of the time she'd be considered both a feminist and an anti-racist.

Despite this, she is not as extreme as some others in the Irish Republican Army - while she detests the English government for their actions in Ireland overall, she has a sort of begrudging respect for the Royal Army - notably in regards to the Great War, if not the actions of their leaders, and is probably one of the only members of the IRA in all of Cork who still (attempts to) participate in Armistice Day and wear a poppy, though she sure as hell doesn't sing God Save the King or wave the Union Jack. She sees it, and her father's actions in the war, as defending Europe from a Germany and Austria whose nationalism had been corrupted by imperialist greed and a thirst for vengeance.

She is not without flaws, of course - the Irish War of Independence is considered one of the first modern guerilla war for a reason, and it was used to devastating political, psychological, and strategic effect. Her belief that freedom must be won in blood is no hollow claim. There is a rage within her, a violent fragment of her psyche, that seeks to drive the boot of the tyrant driven out by any means necessary - she is not above resorting to tactics some others would consider uncouth or downright barbaric. Eye-for-an-eye and the like. She likes to think she's not racist towards the English, she'd even claim it, but deep down she realizes that she is just not able to trust even the most republican Englishman, woman, or even child. She has seen too much of Cork torn apart by the Black and Tans and the King's men for it. Not with anything of considerable importance, at least. She is more than aware of the hypocrisy of this, and it pains her. Her sense of discipline is, well, revolutionary - she has a hard time respecting those in power over her unless she deems them worthy - not that she sees this as any flaw of confidence, and has a tendency to think out loud about what she considers good ideas, especially if she disagrees with her 'superiors'.

Biography: Emer O'Riordan was born on a typical stormy evening in Cork in the early days of January 1902 to a daughter of shepherds - Mary - and a son of miners - Patrick, the latter of whom had moved to Cork to start a small mining equipment company with his three brothers William, Ted, and Sam. While not the primary industry, there was still enough mining going on in and near Cork to get enough work to put them firmly in the middle class. Even in the days of their early childhood, there were those who wished to throw the rule of Britain out of Ireland, but despite her parents both being avowedly Catholic, her father would have none of it. Emer wouldn't find out about her mother's views on the issue until well after it ceased to matter to her, but it's doubtful any true-blooded Unionist of the era would have picked such a Gaelic name.

Her childhood was typical, even as political storms were brewing in Cork, Dublin, and Belfast. She got a typical education for a Catholic girl, in summer she would help her maternal grandparents with the sheep or go fishing, and in winter she'd be back with her grandparents for Christmas. While some of her teachers, and especially her grandparents, were of the sort of Irish to prefer a more independent Ireland. However, in those years, they weren't very vocal about it - and even when they were, it was for Home Rule - the thought of an independent Ireland in those days was pie-in-the-sky radical nonsense. From school, she learned the three R's and history; from her mother's parents - James and Biddy, how to track a sheep through even the driving range, how to speak the Irish language, and how to hunt - everything from merely driving off foxes and badgers to taking on deer for a little extra meat. There wasn't much her paternal grandparents - Thomas and Sarah - could or would teach her - the mines were no place for a lady, and they had long since retired from that - but her paternal grandfather and his brother did run a small fireworks shop in Cork, and they taught her some about that - which started a lifelong love of chemistry. Perhaps in a different era, in a different land, that was what she would have become.

The guns of August 1914 put an end to both the chance of Home Rule arriving in Ireland in a timely fashion and a normal teenager-hood for Emer. Her father and uncles - her paternal ones, and her maternal ones Joseph and Daniel, were all on the older side, but England expected every man to do his duty, and off they went. Joseph, Patrick, and William to the Western Front, Daniel and Ted to Gallipoli, and Sam to the Royal Navy on board the HMS Invincible. Over the course of the war, her relatives who served in the Western Front taught her a bit of French through letters. He was there when a German shell blew it in half in the North Sea. Daniel died at Gallipoli, but Ted survived enough to be sent to Salonica and Palestine before coming home missing a few fingers. Joseph came back from Paschendale minus a foot and a few fingers as well, but William came back intact entirely and with a newfound hatred of British military organization.

Back home, the Easter Uprising came and went, and though at first Emer passed it off as the actions of violent (and possibly German-backed) upstarts who only wished to cause trouble, something in their Proclamation struck a chord with her. As the arrest numbers mounted, as a shootout took place in her native Cork, and especially as the arrests turned to executions, her opinion of those rebels slowly began to reverse. Home Rule became less appealing if it was to be under the rule of such men. But she wouldn't do anything yet - England was still at war, and even if they were an abusive master, better them than the Kraut. Her teachers seem to agree, but the boys in her year in the boy's school seemed much more intent on independence than they. Emer didn't say it then, but as 1917 approached, she began to agree.

Her father returned from the Somme with a missing leg, a head wound, a pension and, quite unlike Uncle William, a newfound respect and admiration for Britain. As Emer and her maternal grandparents drifted towards Sinn Fein, her father drifted towards the Unionists - as did his parents. Were that the only problem, she might not have ended up so deep in the Republican Army's fold. But as 1917 marched on, he became a heavy drinker, more opinionated, and more erratic in behavior. Something had clearly changed him in the trenches, and not for the better - when they went to the hills of Emer's maternal grandparents that summer, it was bad enough already that Ma Biddy insisted quite forcefully that they be kept apart as much as possible. But this only seemed to accelerate whatever was unraveling Patrick.

July 31st 1917 is perhaps the most important date of Emer's life. The start of the Third Battle of Ypres, but more importantly, her father had come home roaring drunk. He got in an argument with her mother and grandparents that grew steadily more heated. She stepped in to break it up, but all this did was incense Patrick further, calling her some very colorful variations of 'traitor', as by this point she wasn't making much of an effort to hide her political opinions, either. She eventually managed to talk him down, and assumed that would be the last of it. That night however, he entered into the room she and her mother were sleeping in. There was a shotgun under the bed in case a badger were to try and break in - which had happened before that summer. Emer grabbed it, saw her father, saw the long dagger in his hand, saw the look in his eyes, saw him move, and fired for center mass.

The police officer ruled it self defense. Emer still isn't sure. He mentioned that Patrick's parents would likely be less than pleased, and if she ever felt unsafe for 'supporting Ireland' as he put it while they were alone, to go to the address on the back of a postcard he handed her, and to hand it to the man at the door At first she was less than pleased herself about what he was implying to be the cause of her father's death, but he at least managed to convince her to take the postcard. She never did use it however, not for the reasons he said to. As 1917 drew towards 1918, her beliefs became conviction. When conscription was extended to Ireland in April, she was there in the first protests in Cork near the end of the month, and was with the protests throughout May. Even so, in those days she was still averse to taking things to a violent level, and did not join the Irish Volunteers until September, well after the RIC and the British Army began to start putting pressure on the more rebellious parts of Ireland in earnest.

For the last few months of 1918 she did not consider, nor put herself in, anything resembling a 'military' branch of the Volunteers. By January however, she was no longer certain she'd be able to avoid fighting. Sinn Fein's declaration of independence made it certain she would not, and after obtaining a copy of the Declaration of Independence (and the Easter Proclamation), she left home armed with the shotgun she killed her father with and joined a brigade on the first of February. For the first few months, it was mostly just drilling with the occasional raid for supplies - mostly ammunition and guns, but when the 'commander', Jack Collins, discovered she had some experience with explosives, they started looking for that too, and he and the other two did their best to assist Emer in getting better at using them - 'should the time come to use 'em', he said. Her first action was in June in Rathclarin, and it was there her shotgun was exchanged for an SMLE. When the Irish Volunteers became the Irish Republican Army in August, she was one of the first to swear allegiance. That day, as she passed her grandparents' paddock, she saw a tricolour where the Union Jack had been.

January saw her participate in the capture of Carrigtwohill's RIC barracks, the first of many 'official' raids on the RIC she would participate in. In February, she blew the wall at Shantonagh in the IRA's capture of the RIC facility there. From then on, she 'officially' became her brigade's explosives expert; as the IRA became more organized and powerful, she gained more knowledge through experience and training handed down from the IRA's leadership. When not learning how to shoot guns, throw grenades, or make and plant explosives, she read about past wars for independence - most notably those of America and France. In April, they burned two abandoned RIC barracks in part of a joint attack of that sort across the country. In August they headed north for Belfast and defended against the UVF throughout late August and early September, during which time she obtained the gas mask which was to become a signature of her. Afterwards, they left Belfast for Dublin, where they would stay until a week before Bloody Sunday, at which time they were halfway back home to Cork, where she joined the 3rd West Cork Flying Column. Her first action with them was the Kilmichael Ambush.

Her grandparents and mother were in Cork when it burned. She watched it burn from afar, and the sight made her grow bolder still. Not in the reckless sense, but more in mercilessness. She had wanted to go in to stop it, and had to be restrained to keep her from trying. 1921 didn't start on a good note, she was nearly captured twice in January, and was only saved from the second attempt when the truck pursuing her got stuck in a patch of mud. An attack on a train she participated in failed disastrously, and she was nearly captured again. Two of her friends were captured in Clonmult, and she got some revenge for Cork in the form of a dead informant she extracted every bit of info she could think of before shooting him. A bit more came from destroying a lorry with a set of mines. She was hit in the shoulder during the Crossbarry Ambush, but the wound turned out to be superficial and she was back on her feet before the start of April.

On April 22, she and 2 other truck's worth of IRA volunteers ambushed a pair of Auxiliary trucks using a pair of pipe bombs to disable them, with Emer having four more as backup if they needed something stronger than grenades. The first went off, the second did not, but it was enough to stop both trucks, and for them to open fire on the Auxies, pinning them down. As they began to push the Auxies away from the trucks, the second bomb went off mere feet from Emer.

She expected many things from being blown to Kingdom Come, waking up in a magical medieval kingdom wasn't one of them.

Likes: Comrades in arms, the open (peaceful) lands of Ireland, the smell of fresh hay, a warm beer after a rainy Irish summer day, the rush of wind from riding in a car, the satisfaction of a job well done, the brilliant colors of a fireworks display

Dislikes: Auxies, Black and Tans, loyalists, the UK, nobles and royals, arrogance, abusive people, imperialists, racism, those who believe themselves arbitrarily worthy of respect

Weapons/Equipment/Outfit:

• SMLE No.1 Mark III + 4 5-round stripper clips + 22 spare rounds
• Webley Mark VI Revolver + Speed loader + 17 extra rounds
• P1917 Bayonet
• 2x Mark I trench knives
• 2x 'Mills bomb' fragmentation grenades
• 4x pipe bombs, 2 cheddite, 2 gelignite
• Homemade twist-handle blasting machine
• Sharpened entrenching tool
• Small Box Respirator - The respirator itself has been removed, as Emer uses it solely as a mask - Instead, a simple metal plate is put in place to hold it shut with holes drilled into it to let in air, and more importantly, her cigarettes.
• 'Uniform' - Irish Volunteers peaked cap, serge green double-breasted tunic with brown interior lining, lapel button consisting of a harp on a green field, grey trousers, black riveted boots
• Belt with several pouches and frogs for bayonet, ammunition, bombs, and small bag for blasting machine
• In pockets: £23.05, half a corned beef sandwich, box containing 18 cigarettes, lighter, picture of father's unit in WWI (taken in France, with 'Remember what they did' written in ink on the back), black fountain pen
• Written materials in pockets: Pocket Bible, Irish Declaration of Independence, Easter Proclamation, Common Sense, US Declaration of Independence, What is the Third Estate?, text and musical notes of A Soldier's Song in English

Defining Quote: "Ireland as a nation must be Irish and free - there is no other option left to us."

RP Sample: Bruh.

[Bentus]

Emer looks interesting, will be exciting to see how she meshes with some of the other chars. Though did she join the republicans when she was 15? Tough childhood for sure :s

[Bentus]

Name: Modwenna MacAilig
Age: 28
Gender: F
Hero Archetype: Druid/Barbarian
Original Time Period and Location: 209 CE, Caledonia (modern day Scotland)
Appearance (Pic preferred. Anything goes): Img 1Img 2

Personality: The harsh realities of life in the shadow of Hadrian’s Wall has made Modwenna increasingly wary and suspicious of outsiders. Unyieldingly protective of her tribe and family, her firm and often brusque attitude masks a deep kindness and compassion for those who she considers to be part of her people. When she feels that her friends and kin are threatened, Modwenna is often the first to come to their aid no matter the risks. Slow to trust and always cautious around those with a silver-tongue, she values actions more than words and expects as much from those around her. Not one to speak with false platitudes or flatteries, she is unafraid to speak her mind and refuses to bend her knee to anyone who hasn’t first earned her respect. Even towards those that she looks up to and idolises, Modwenna constantly strives to outdo and outpace them. Competitive to a fault, her determination to improve has brought her both success and enemies in the past, but betrays a nagging sense of ambition that burns in the woman’s chest. In matters of combat and war, Modwenna can often come across as cold and callous. Viewing the survival and wellbeing of her people as paramount to all else, Modwenna can be a brutal and merciless opponent, capable of fighting with the savagery of a wild animal when cornered.

Biography: Born a curious and competitive child, Modwenna was immediately a handful for her two parents. As the daughter of her tribe’s Chief, the young girl was groomed from a young age to be a leader for her people and she was imbued with a sense of duty and responsibility for their wellbeing. Displaying both a rebellious streak and an insatiable childish curiosity, Modwenna would often wander into the wilderness beyond the tribe’s encampment. Her mother - a druid that carried on with the ancient traditions that the Romans had first tried to stamp out in Wales more than a hundred years prior - encouraged this behaviour and taught her how to properly show respect to the animistic spirits they worshipped. Venturing into the woods of Alba, Modwenna relished the chance to explore and discover the world around her. The freedom to race and run throughout a land that she could call her own was a source of pride for the young girl, although it also made her painfully aware of a great scar that cut across her pristine world.

Hadrian’s Wall: a structure built by the Romans in a desperate attempt to seal off the Celtic barbarians to their North. It was an impassable barrier that tore the isle in two and segregated its people between freedom and Imperial occupation. Modwenna’s tribe lived fairly close to the fortification, and occasionally they would encounter Roman scouts patrolling north of the border. Modwenna’s father had given her stern warnings to give such parties a wide berth, and to avoid straying too close to the border with the Empire. It had seemed excessive to the inquisitive Modwenna in her youth, but as a chief, her father had seen the brewing tensions that had long been simmering just beneath the surface. Communication between the disparate Caledonian tribes and their Roman neighbours had become practically non-existent, with trade having all but dried up. The Romans had never forgotten the last major incursion by the tribes decades before. In a time of weakness, the northerners had swooped down to raid and pillage before forcing the Imperial garrisons into humiliating treaties with savages. But as a new generation of Roman generals rose to power, they began to look to the north in search of lost honour and conquest.

Modwenna had grown into a strong and capable woman when the Legions crossed the frontier. Having taken on some of the duties of leading her people alongside her aging father and mother, she was out with a hunting party when they stumbled on the assembling armies. It was the most people that Modwenna had ever seen gathered in one place, and she had felt genuine fear as she witnessed them move with a determined efficiency into their formations. Frozen by the shock of the human war machine that they were witnessing, the group of hunters didn’t see the Roman scout that stumbled onto their position, nor did they notice his presence until he cried out a warning to his fellows. Caught by surprise and forced to react, Modwenna acted on impulse as she strung her bow and let loose an arrow - piercing the soldier’s neck and silencing his alarm. Detected, the hunters raced back to the village to warn them of the impending attack.

Knowing that they had little time, Modwenna’s father acted immediately. Instructing his daughter to oversee an evacuation, he set off with his wife and the rest of the village leaders to parley and sue for peace with the Romans. The delegation’s horses were readied as quickly as possible, painted with symbols of peace and laden with a small tribute to forestall any immediate aggression. As her parents set forth with the other elders, Modwenna threw herself into her own role, trusting entirely in her father’s judgment. The thought that this would be the last time she’d see him alive never once crossed her mind. As they approached the Romans, calling out with their intentions, the small delegation was arrested rather than negotiated with. Pulled from his horse and forced to his knees, Modwenna’s father was accused of crimes against Rome with another tribe’s attacks on their settlements cited as justification to dissolve the Empire’s earlier treaties with the Caledonians. Before he could even utter a word in his defence, the Chief was found guilty and sentenced, with his head being severed from his body not a scarce few moments later. The druids in the delegation would be the next ones rounded up - Modwenna’s mother among them - before they too were systematically executed. The bloody work done and with the surviving prisoners in tow, the army swiftly continued its march northwards towards the unprepared town.

Unaware of the fate that had befallen her parents, Modwenna had raced from house to house, doing what she could to help the young and the elderly to gather what they could before taking to the woods. Determined to make the most of the time that the delegation had was buying them, she coordinated her people as best as she could until the sound of hoofbeats and the cries of men thundered out of the treeline. With only a few seconds warning before the cavalry were among them, men and women were cut down before they even had time to gather their weapons. In minutes, houses were being set alight by the army’s vanguard as screams and shouted orders mixed with the smoke filling the air. Breathless, and caught up in the rout that was emerging around her, it was all that Modwenna could do to give in to her fear and run.

It was a harsh awakening for the young woman who spent the night fleeing without rest, running through the woods with what few of her kin remained until her feet bled and her legs threatened to give out from exhaustion. It was the start of a brutal campaign by the Romans, who had finally grown tired of the constant resistance that they faced from the north. Modwenna couldn’t have known at the time that her village would only be the first victim of an army that was being led by Emperor Severus himself. The Roman army moved like a flood into the tribal lands, catching the disparate villages unprepared as they struggled to organise themselves. Finding herself suddenly thrust into her father’s place as the leader of her slaughtered village, Modwenna felt an unbridled anger fuelling her through those first few trying weeks. The Caledonians would eventually muster an army to face the invaders, but the Romans refused to meet them in the open field as they had done in the past. With a sickening realisation, the loose alliance of tribes found themselves in a war of extermination as the Emperor set his troops to setting villages and farms alight. In the cold calculus of Empire, the Caledonians found themselves to have been evaluated as being not worth the effort of ruling. The Emperor had no intention of conquering the land but instead sought to end the raids against his people by starving the barbarians into extinction.

Initially unaware of the larger scale of the invasion, Modwenna and her people simply struggled to survive. On the run and picking up other kinless survivors as they went, it wasn’t until more than a month later that the depleted tribe grew large enough to put up some kind of resistance. Modwenna would only really strike her first blood in these confrontations as she quickly displayed herself to be a more than capable warrior - especially in the brutal close-quarters fighting that took place in the narrow woodland paths. Gathering and coordinating with other tribes that soon began to muster against the Emperor’s Legion, she learned how to use the slow, regimented marches of the Romans against them. Striking from the trees in quick, hurried assaults and waiting for when groups of the enemy were at their most vulnerable, the Caledonian warriors waged a guerilla campaign against the invaders that soon began to take its toll. But the Emperor refused to be dissuaded and the war continued to devolve into little more than a genocide as Severus’ son marched across the Wall with reinforcements and a mission to kill any northerner he met - regardless of their age, gender or ability to fight back.

The Caledonians would eventually force the armies to turn back, but it was a hollow victory for the tribes. Forced to seed swathes of their land in return for their survival and with the druids having been slaughtered with a surgical precision, the Caledonian culture was dealt a blow that it would never truly recover from. But Modwenna would never see the day that the Roman Legion would withdraw, battered and bloodied, from her lands. Attempting to defend a village not too unlike her own, scarcely more than two years after her’s was put to the torch, Modwenna led her warriors in a delaying actions against a far larger Roman force. Ambushing a column of legionnaires as the Sun began to fall - seeking to take advantage of their weariness and fatigue - Modwenna’s luck ran out. Imperial reinforcements turned out to be closer than expected, and Modwenna found herself surrounded and outflanked. The two patrols grappled and fought with a bitter and relentless brutality. Putting up whatever resistance she could, she tried to ignore the pained cries of her friends and kin as they were cut down around her until, eventually, the cold sensation of Roman steel sliced through Modwenna’s belly to put an end to her struggle - but not before she let out a defiant roar and decapitated the Roman auxiliary who had ensured her death.

With the bloodlust clearing from her mind as she slumped onto the forest floor, Modwenna would blink through her blurred vision to find that she was the only body still breathing at the end of the engagement. Alone, and surrounded by the corpses of her comrades and enemies, it was all the warrior could do allow the weight to slide off of her shoulders as a bright light came to take her away. With a smug sense of satisfaction, Modwenna’s last thought on Earth was that in the end she had beaten her opponent to a draw.

But her eyes fluttering open not a moment later soon caused all other thoughts to fall away.

Likes: Freedom, nature, music and celebration, her kin, victories and triumphs, those who earn respect
Dislikes: Romans, imperialists, attacks on those she considers her kin, losing, narcissists
Weapons/Equipment/Outfit: Her traditional felt and leather armor, some war paint, a pair of swords, a leather reservoir for water (not sure what else is worth including)
Defining Quote (Optional):
RP Sample: Young Bloods
#IBETTHESADERANSDIDTHIS (DO NOT REMOVE)

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

This is an obligatory tag.

[Rupudska]

*snip*

Fine by me. Accepted.

[Wolfenium]

Name: Võ Hoàng Yến (Chữ Nôm: 武煌燕)
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Hero Archetype: Rebel
Original Time Period and Location: Jiaozhi Province (Giao Chỉ), Ming Empire (occupied Đại Việt), 'died' 1427 C.E.
Appearance (Pic preferred. Anything goes):

Personality: Easygoing, sisterly, slightly flirtatious
Biography: Born in the turbulence of the Ming invasion of Đại Việt, Võ Hoàng Yến had never known real peace. Her father, Võ Linh, a former official of the preceding Trần dynasty, had lived in hiding from the Hồ usurpers as a fireworks maker, shortly after Yến was born. Even in the meager existence of the village, the girl had lived a life of contentment. Often helping out at her father's workshop in the approach to Tet, she had always looked forward to the vibrant colours and flames of her father's work. Sadly, all that was about to turn upside down, as the Ming conquered Đại Việt. As the distant yet imperious Emperor Yongle sought to quash all traces of Vietnamese identity, her father and the village quickly became a target for the Ming. Razing the village in retaliation for rebellions led by the Trần remnants, the Ming troops had her father brutally maimed, his tongue cut off and hands severed to prevent him from passing down his knowledge of native literature. Yến barely escaped, nearly succumbing to starvation and thirst before being rescued by irregulars serving under the rebel general Lê Lợi (future emperor of the coming Lê dynasty). By the time she found her father again, he had long succumbed to his wounds, buried in an unmarked grave along with many other victims of the Ming.

Alone, in grief and angered by the destruction wrought against her people, Yến offered her services as an explosives expert to the Lê army. Adapting to the guerilla tactics of the rebels, she proved to be an adept saboteur, targeting Ming supply trains and depots. Besides her homemade explosives and captured Ming hand cannon, she became skilled with the javelin, a necessity due to the prolonged shortage of gunpowder materials. Eventually, the Lê were able to build an army strong enough to challenge the Ming in open battle. By 1426, the Ming had been utterly driven out of Đại Việt. After eight years of continuous warfare, the now battle-hardened Yến sought to return to a peaceful life in the countryside. But the Ming were not done yet, launching one last campaign to subdue the restive frontier. Deployed as part of a hand cannoneer unit, Yến fought one last time in the Battle of Tốt Động – Chúc Động. But the warrior would not be able to learn of its outcome, knocked out by shelling from Ming cannon fire. By the time she recovered, she was already very, very far from home, in an alien land in far worse need of help...

Likes: Writing, music, fireworks
Dislikes: Oppressors, corruption, Ming Empire
Weapons/Equipment/Outfit: flute, brush and ink set, hand grenades, captured Ming hand cannon, Dao, Áo dài, leather armour.
Defining Quote (Optional):
RP Sample: No u. :3
#IBETTHESADERANSDIDTHIS (DO NOT REMOVE)

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Name: Tiberius Helveticus Hortensus
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Hero Archetype: Lost Soul
Original Time Period and Location: 2 August 216 BC, outside Cannae, Italia
Appearance:

Personality: Tiberius is a soft-spoken gardener and poet, with a love for nature and horses. He has an intense dislike for conflict, but an intense love for Rome and the rule of law. He dislikes persons who constantly vie for political power and glory, and has respect for those who enjoy the smaller things in life.
Biography: Tiberius the Elder, father to Tiberius, was a Roman living in exile in the lands of the Helvetii, where he had found a home. Technically a part of the equites class, he resided outside of Roman lands due to his opposition to a certain consul in his younger years. He moved to the lands of the Helvetii, where he started breeding horses for a local warlord. He married a local woman and was content. However, his love for his native Rome never stopped. He taught his children the language of the Latins and read to them from the old poets. He taught them Greek, he taught them law, he taught them rhetoric, as was demanded of Roman nobility.

It was the most glorious day in his life when he received word from Rome. The Carthaginian general Hamilcar had crossed into Sicily, and was threatening the Republic. Rome needed all the veterans they could muster, and as a member of the equites class, Tiberius the Elder was the most suited. He returned gladly, taking his favourite horse and his old spatha to war. Rome defeated the Carthaginians, and Tiberius the Elder received a pardon for all his crimes. With his family he returned to Rome, where he was promoted to the patrician class. He never participated in Roman politics, though, being content to breed his horses and live on his farm, worked by the slaves earned in the Punic war.

His son Tiberius the Younger was less inclined to sit back and enjoy the farmer’s life. From an early age, he wanted to participate. He climbed the Cursus Honorum with vigour, first as a soldier, and then as a quaestor. Throughout the years, he learned to be calmer, more serene. Years of serving in the army had made him disciplined, and gave him a love for the peaceful life. In Rome, he grew up to be a patron of arts and a frequent visitor of the Court, being trained to be a lawyer instead of a career soldier. Eventually, this led to his election as praetor, a year during which he spoke justice with an eye for equity.

Then, like his father had fought Hamilcar, Tiberius the Younger was called on to fight Hannibal. After the latter crossed the Alps, Tiberius took up his father’s spatha and joined the triarii on their way to defeat the Great Invader. Near the town of Cannae the two forces clashed. Alas, the Roman forces were completely surrounded and destroyed. The crush was so great the soldiers could hardly raise their sword arm. In that pressure, among a thousand Romans dying, Tiberius was transported through the portal.
Likes/Dislikes: Likes horses, horse riding, poetry and literature, nature, the rule of law. Dislikes warfare, politics, dense cities
Weapons/Equipment/Outfit: Triarius breastplate, helmet, scutum and long spear, cavalry spatha
Defining Quote: “Peace is battle enough. I will be in arms when it comes down to the triarii”

#IBETTHESADERANSDIDTHIS

[Bentus]

Nice, a Roman! Looking forward to seeing how Tiberius and Modwenna end up dealing with one another. Always good to see you GCOCS.

[Rupudska]

IC is up.

[Minroz]

Tag for interests. Assuming if I have time, I've going to play as the Ming Dynasty couple, a General of ethnic Mongolian heritage and the Ming Imperial princess, both were framed by the corrupt Imperial Court and they couple got saved by the portal in the nick of time just as they're about to be killed. :3

[Rupudska]

Tag for interests. Assuming if I have time, I've going to play as the Ming Dynasty couple, a General of ethnic Mongolian heritage and the Ming Imperial princess, both were framed by the corrupt Imperial Court and they couple got saved by the portal in the nick of time just as they're about to be killed. :3

No Ai, no Jinmao, no Wonggu, only original characters.

[Minroz]

Tag for interests. Assuming if I have time, I've going to play as the Ming Dynasty couple, a General of ethnic Mongolian heritage and the Ming Imperial princess, both were framed by the corrupt Imperial Court and they couple got saved by the portal in the nick of time just as they're about to be killed. :3

No Ai, no Jinmao, no Wonggu, only original characters.

Awww, I was actually going to do the relatives of their ancestors. The ones who died. Really. Let's just say they were supposed to be executed by the corrupt imperial court.

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

This OOC is gaining fast!

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

Name: Kim Da-hee/Dahee Montpellier (French name)
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Hero Archetype: Action Survivor, the survivor of war and oppression.
Original Time Period and Location: Born April 22, 1840, Suwon, Gyeonggi-do
Appearance (Pic preferred. Anything goes):

Personality: Sad figure, but nonetheless has hopes and optimism for the better tomorrow. And religious.
Biography:

Born in Suwon, Gyeonggi-do, to a Korean noble mother who fell in love and eventually, converted in secret to Christianity, with a French soldier assigned to protect the French missionaries in Joseon. The noblewoman eventually retreated with the soldier and took refuge with the Christians communities in Korea. Thoroughly persecuted by the government, the communities in Korea hoped for hope and optimism for the better tomorrow, as the growth of communities with the additions of native-converted grew. To make sure the communities safe from the more official persecution, the communities reached out to the Joseon government and the small contingent of soldiers trained the communities in self-defense, though the lack of weapons available and the mixed genders of people being involved with the training both reduced and bolstered the effectiveness.

By 1864, the persecution reached heightened level due to what the Koreans perceived as threats and fear of remunerations from the French Christians communities. As a result, the Joseon launched a large-scale capture and execute operations to the Christians and Catholics alike, resulted in the deaths of 10,000, including Da-hee.

But when she awoken, she was in a different world. And that's the start of her journey in a strange world.
Likes: Tea, praying, reading.
Dislikes: Be part of a combat, fruits.
Weapons/Equipment/Outfit: a Late Joseon-era civilian clothes, with a small dagger as her weapon.
Defining Quote (Optional): "I am optimistic of a better days for all of us!"
RP Sample: Aye, mate!
#IBETTHESADERANSDIDTHIS (DO NOT REMOVE)

[Jade Confederacy]

Do we have to RP as heroes? I enjoy the role of being the villain allot more and I'm wondering if I can apply as a minion of the Emperor of the Outer Dark.

[Orostan]

Would it be alright for me to join as a revolutionary, and have the first thing my character does lead a peasant revolt and behead some monarchs?

[Rupudska]

Do we have to RP as heroes?

Yes, you do.

Would it be alright for me to join as a revolutionary, and have the first thing my character does lead a peasant revolt and behead some monarchs?

The situation in the Coreland is hardly suitable for a peasant revolt, so you probably won't get anywhere with it.

[Strala]

Am I accepted or am I not? I posted this on the previous thread but the former OP didn't respond and neither did the current OP so I posted something in the IC. If I'm not accepted I'll delete that post if I can and I'll apolgize right now for my errors

[Castelia]

Am I accepted or am I not? I posted this on the previous thread but the former OP didn't respond and neither did the current OP so I posted something in the IC. If I'm not accepted I'll delete that post if I can and I'll apolgize right now for my errors

Everyone who posted in the old thread was accepted, I think. If you were accepted there, you're accepted here.

[Strala]

Am I accepted or am I not? I posted this on the previous thread but the former OP didn't respond and neither did the current OP so I posted something in the IC. If I'm not accepted I'll delete that post if I can and I'll apolgize right now for my errors

Everyone who posted in the old thread was accepted, I think. If you were accepted there, you're accepted here.

I posted a little late so I didn't get a reply but I posted before the reboot was up

[Castelia]

I posted a little late so I didn't get a reply but I posted before the reboot was up

Oh, yeah, you were accepted. Welcome, friend!

[The Imperial Warglorian Empire]

Name: Marius Caecilius
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Hero Archetype:
Original Time Period and Location: 209 CE, Caledonia
Appearance:

Personality:
Biography: Born 171 CE
Likes: Duty, Kindness, Comaradery
Dislikes: Rudeness, Insubordination
Weapons/Equipment/Outfit:
-Lorica Segmentata
-Pilum
-Gladius
-Spatha
-Pugio
-2x Pila
-Scutum Shield
-Imperial Helmet with Officer Crest
-Red Legionary Tunic
-Metal Arm Guards
-Metal Greaves
-Red Cape
-White Fascia Ventralis
-Brown Baccae
-Caligae
-Red Focale
-Pteruges
-Cingulum militare
-Balteus
-Sarcina Pack (and all the equipment said to be strapped to it)
Defining Quote (Optional):
RP Sample:
#IBETTHESADERANSDIDTHIS (DO NOT REMOVE)

[Bentus]

Grabs Defibrillator and prepares to attempt to apply to thread

Who's still around here, out of curiosity?

[Endem]

Grabs Defibrillator and prepares to attempt to apply to thread

Who's still around here, out of curiosity?

Me