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  • IC Zodiac Beasts

    Recruitment Thread is located here: http://forum.theonyxpath.com/forum/g...iac-beasts-ooc


    I know I posted this in the Story Hooks section, but damn it sounded like a pretty cool set up to me! Anyways, this game is designed for up to 13 people (12 players + 1 Story Teller) to take part in. The players will be one of the 12 Chinese Zodiac beasts, which consists of Dragon, Goat, Rooster, Dog, Snake, Rat, Monkey, Pig, Tiger, Ox, Rabbit, and Horse. Roles are first come, first serve.



    Rules 1 - No one liner posts, about 1 paragraph each (4 or 5 lines) would be an acceptable amount.

    Rule 2 - Don't be a dick OOC. In character dickishness is perfectly acceptable.

    Rule 3 - This is a semi-durance RP, meaning you're inside Arcadia, and your Keeper (preferably played by the ST), has more power than you do. That being said, you need to find a way back home, while at the same time doing whatever tasks he commands of you. The other players are in the same boat as you, maybe you can work together to formulate a plan.


    Rule 4 - OOC chat should be done in ( ) in order to let players know what is part of your activity, and what you wish to address outside the story. Don't think I have to actually mention this, but thought I'd do it anyways.


    Dual Kiths are encouraged. Not a rule, just an advisement.




    -----------------------------------


    Collecting figurines has been a hobby of yours, and your last purchase was from some Chinese gift shop. You bought a golden figurine of your Zodiac animal, thinking it would be pretty cool for your collection. After putting it on your bedside and going to sleep last night, you awaken to find two things amiss. One, you're inside a cold, metal cage instead of your nice warm bed. And two, you've become your Zodiac animal! Thankfully you seem to be some manner of hybrid, rather than a full beast, and therefor have access to your digits. Maybe you can open the cage from the inside out! As your senses begin to flare, the image of the store owner from yesterday appears before you, holding the figurine you bought with one hand, and stroking it with the other... "Now I have the full set!" he says, as you notice you're not the only cage in the room.



    Last edited by Nyrufa; 07-24-2014, 08:22 AM.

  • #2
    Jessica Sparks' mind rebelled at the reality of the situation. Having two human parents, she simply could not really be an ox hybrid. It was impossible. Clearly, she was but in the grasp of an odd dream. For long moments, she expected to wake up next to Curtis or one or more of their cats. Those moments and more passed, and Jessica remained where and wherever she was imprisoned.

    As the image of the store owner faded away, Jessica tried to open the cage she was in from the inside. She was a locksmith by trade, and felt confident she could let herself out. The coldness of the cage seemed as unnatural to her as her new oxen body. It took an effort of will to continue trying to free herself. However, the very strangeness of the cage's metal strengthened her resolve to escape. Who could even image what prolonged to this bizarre metal could do?

    In the end, Jessica opened the door and tumbled out onto a floor of small emerald green tiles. Behind her, a strange voice radiated out from the cage from which she had escaped. The cage itself shook with the voice. It said, "For taking thine leave from inside me without mine consent, thou may with confidence count me as your foe eternal."

    The cage's grandiose threat triggered a battle within Jessica between fear and something not unlike amusement.
    Last edited by Cire; 07-24-2014, 04:45 PM. Reason: To go from pig to ox!

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    • #3
      Something was definitely off about this place. It wasn't just the talking cage, everything in the room felt 'alive' somehow. The tiled floors vibrated under Jessica, almost as if they were shuddering at her touch, and the shadows on the walls shifted, as if the walls and ceiling were looming over her now, anticipating her next action. The floor was cool to the touch, and had a texture like that of polished stone. A closer inspection would reveal the floor was made from real jade, which would have probably cost a fortune. Soon the floor began to speak as well.


      "If you smudge or crack me in any way, I will make your life a living hell!" it threatened, "He gets angry when I'm not flawlessly shined!"


      Soon the rest of the room began to chime in with a chorus of voices, each of which threatening them if they disturbed anything about the neatly organized structure contained within. Thousands of voices communicating in unison, it was impossible to make out more than a few words at a time as they all seemed to be trying to talk over one another.


      "Get back in your cage!"

      "You'll get us all in trouble!"

      "You'd better not be shedding, Beast!"

      "You break it, he breaks you!"

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      • #4
        The chorus of commands almost drove Jessica back into the cage from which she had just escaped. The multitude of orders seemed to call for obedience like a physical force, like a river of sound sweeping her bodily to where it wanted her to go. She almost could not even entertain the idea that she could actually resist the commands engulfing her. At that point, merely breathing proved disturbingly challenging. She was just a woman before something mighty and uncanny. How could she possibly resist?

        Then Jessica remembered something. In this strange place, she was not just a woman. Was she not also partly an ox? That which could overcome a person might not vanquish an ox. With this thought, she started to move away from her screaming former prisoner. Ignoring the storm of voices around her and heaving jade floor beneath her, Jessica trod where she would walk. She would be free, if she could manage it.

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        • #5
          Max Layton sat there a while, grappling with his new condition. He knew he wasn't dreaming. He'd tried pinching himself awake a bit earlier, and wound up with only pain and the discovery that there really were a lot of little bristles all over his new pink flesh. "How does something like this happen? And why?" he wondered, poking and prodding at his new self, in bewilderment and horror at what he finds. It was as though he hoped against hope to discover he was in some sort of suit. "There's gotta be a zipper somewhere... Or or or where do these things detach?" Of course, prosthetic snouts, ears, and curly tails shouldn't hurt when he tugged at them or move when he willed them to move (or when he didn't).

          The young man would have just sat there for a while longer, had Jessica's actions not drawn his attention off of himself. Max had noticed the other cages, but didn't take stock of their residents until he heard the tinking sound. He jerked his head over to see what looked like a... cow-lady picking at the lock. And getting it open. To which it gave archaic-sounding criticism. Well. That helped snap him back awake. He was still very much out of it, and deathly worried about what had happened. But there were better places to be out of it and deathly worried than in a cage.

          Climbing shakily to his hooves -- and never more thankful for his hands -- Max went to the door and tried fiddling with the latch. Aaaand accomplished a great deal of nothing. Unlike Jessica, his only professional experience with locks was closing up shop at the end of a late shift. He grunted in annoyance.

          And then the cacophony began. Wincing, he brought his hands to his ears and staggered back from the noise. He'd sort of breezed past the talking cage -- it almost seemed... whimsical -- but everything in the room shrieking commands and complaints was too much. He found himself trembling and just wishing everything would just stop being horrible for five minutes. He watched the bovine stranger begin to retreat to her own cage, and then decide better of it. She seemed like she planned to leave, sending a new wave of desperation through him. "W-Wait," was lost in the din. "Stop," fared little better. "D-Don't leave!" she might just barely have heard. "Help me please!"

          The last one was piercing enough to get through. Still, it was an open question whether anyone could make out the words: it had sounded more like an animal squealing than a human screaming. Max felt a bit sick. If anyone wondered whether pigs could blush, well, his face held the answer.
          Last edited by Gaius; 07-24-2014, 11:04 PM.


          The EX3 What We Know Wiki, courtesy of Marin and JMobius
          Nishkriya, the EX3 Freelancer Quotes Tracker, courtesy of Anathema and Moonwolf
          The White Wolf Forum Archive, courtesy of The Dark Wizard and Sanctaphrax (see its Patreon)
          Arrghus: There's also the Shepherd of the North Star, busily guiding the one thing in all the heavens that doesn't move.

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          • #6
            Despite all he noise, Jessica did hear Max. She turned toward him and tried to make her way over to his cage. The floor heaved, and she tumbled. With a grunt, she got to her feet and tried again. This time she made it. She said to the trapped porcine figure, "I'll try to get you out. If I can."

            To this, the cage snarled, "You will not find me such easy prey to your skill. My charge I am keeping."

            Jessica did her best to ignore the cage. Even so, the cage resisted all her efforts. "See?" mocked the cage. "You are a failure! You cannot beat me, like you did my flawed peer!"

            "Hey!" exclaimed Jessica's cage. "I heard that!"

            Rage filled Jessica, but she knew anger would do nothing to help her. She decided to change tactics with Max's cage. Instead of trying to force it open, she tickled the door as best as she could with her new hands. The metal felt so wrong, but she persisted in her efforts. Luckily, the cage started to laugh. The laughter was eerie and wrong, but Jessica took full advantage. Swiftly, she pulled open the laughing cage's door and pulled Max out to relative freedom.
            Last edited by Cire; 07-24-2014, 11:25 PM. Reason: Forgot a line

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            • #7
              Max sighed in relief as she started over. He was luckier than she when the floor decided it wasn't being enough of a jerk, catching the bars of his cage to keep from falling. Though he did get an earful from the bars for getting his grubby hands all over them. Feeling bolder, he told them, "Oh, shut up."

              He watched the stranger as she drew near, and nodded to her words. "Thank you," he said, flashing a nervous smile and letting her work. Then began what Max could only describe as a comedy sketch between cages.

              Still, otherworldly as the situation was, his boastful cage seemed to mean it: Jessica wasn't having much luck. At which point he thought of being a more active player. He took stock of his legs again. They were very different than they had been, but he thought he could work with them. Holding a bar of the cage to steady himself, Max lifted one unfamiliar leg and chambered it for a side kick. "Okay. Stand back, and let's see if this..."

              The swinish youth then stared as Jessica began to tickle the cage. "Hunh. Or... Or that." Fortunately, most else in the room seems roughly as dumbfounded, and the racket has dulled to a murmur. Max set down his leg in time for his rescuer to get the door open and pull him out of there. It was amazing how much better it felt just being out of there. He turned to face her with an impressed smile. "Phew! Thank you. Just... thank you! That was brilliant!" His happiness and relief were only dented by the bizarre feeling of his tail swishing back and forth behind him. Yes, Max could really have done without that.

              Still, ignoring it, Max tried to give his savior all due courtesy. "Uh... I really owe you one. The circumstances are awful, but I'm glad to meet you. I'm Max." He held out a hand. "I... guess you're human, too?" This won the room a fresh bundle of decibels from the various not-so-inanimate objects, this time to the tune of laughter. "Oh, that is just precious!" rang one voice. "They think they're people!" called another, to more guffaws. The student groaned and snorted. "Great. The peanut gallery has an opinion..."


              The EX3 What We Know Wiki, courtesy of Marin and JMobius
              Nishkriya, the EX3 Freelancer Quotes Tracker, courtesy of Anathema and Moonwolf
              The White Wolf Forum Archive, courtesy of The Dark Wizard and Sanctaphrax (see its Patreon)
              Arrghus: There's also the Shepherd of the North Star, busily guiding the one thing in all the heavens that doesn't move.

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              • #8
                "What is going on in here?" a voice asked in a calm, yet menacing tone. The voice seemed to come from all directions at once, making its source impossible to pinpoint. The voice itself was recognizable however, it was the shop keeper's. And as he spoke, the entire room went dead silent, all except for the two cages who began to flip their shit and scream at the escapees to return to their cells as fast as possible. They didn't get the chance, however, because moments after the question was asked, the containers heated up to a brilliant orange and began to dissolve into puddles of molten metal. This quickly reduced their screaming pleas to cries of agony as their voices bubbled and gurgled as if they were drowning.


                "Maybe I need to reforge you with stronger materials..." the voice said, the malice in its voice escalating slightly, it sounded like it was losing its temper. "The calender is all wrong, it's not the year of the Pig or Ox. I'm going to have to make some... corrections." the voice continued, before footsteps sounded off in the distance, gently patting against the jade tiles. Something was approaching them, and was taking a leisurely pace in doing so. "One of you gets let out of your cage on a 12 year rotation schedule, that's how the Zodiac works. But now somebody decided to break the rules and ruin the authenticity. I do so hate when my collections are unorganized!"
                Last edited by Nyrufa; 07-25-2014, 06:18 AM.

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                • #9
                  Jessica opened her mouth to speak, but then she closed it. One had to select her words with care when dealing with someone who could melt talking cages at a whim. Fear forced her to take her present utterly surreal situation seriously. She glanced over to the pig man who had introduced himself as Max. She took a deep breath and then she said, "I'm sure Max will agree with me in saying that neither of us meant to offend you."

                  Jessica then tried to offer the shop keeper her best smile, the same one she had used a few months ago to get out of a speeding ticket. She could but hope for the best. What else could she do? Absurdly, she wondered if the extra set of breasts she had gained with her new oxen body would help.

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                  • #10
                    Max's heart skipped a beat at the voice. It was the last thing he remembered hearing when he awoke, and a stark reminder that their condition was by someone's design. And, as the cages bubbled away in agony, that someone wasn't limited to turning people into animals. He felt some pity for the poor things. Particularly since life in a cage just might be preferable to no life at all.

                    Trembling, he nodded a frantic agreement to Jessica's words and tried to follow her lead. "Y-Yeah! N-No question here. We didn't mean to make you angry, we just... We didn't know what was going on." Max might not be able to work the same kind of... appeal that his bovine companion might, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd pulled off a "wide-eyed innocent" routine. Though that admittedly usually went over better with a less nervous smile. "M-Mmaybe you could tell us how we got here and... got like this? Er, so we don't offend you again, I mean."


                    The EX3 What We Know Wiki, courtesy of Marin and JMobius
                    Nishkriya, the EX3 Freelancer Quotes Tracker, courtesy of Anathema and Moonwolf
                    The White Wolf Forum Archive, courtesy of The Dark Wizard and Sanctaphrax (see its Patreon)
                    Arrghus: There's also the Shepherd of the North Star, busily guiding the one thing in all the heavens that doesn't move.

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                    • #11
                      The foot steps seemed to grow closer and closer, and finally came to an abrupt halt. The voice began to speak once more, but this time it was clearly focused in a specific area. As it spoke, the shop keeper's image faded into view as if slowly materializing out of thin air.


                      "You are here because of a contract." he said. His arms were crossed behind his back, and the old man was dressed in a dark green vest and black pants, he also looked to be quite elderly, possibly mid 70's. "I'm a collector, you see, and I'm particularly fond of birth signs." he explained, holding out both hands, one showing the golden figurine of the pig, and the other of the ox. "The first customer to purchase one of my figurines would join my realm as part of my collection." he went on, "It took a long time, everybody wants the cool animals like Dragon or Snake, not many wanted to buy Pig and Ox. Collecting the full set was quite a chore, and I'd really hate to have it lost or damaged." he went on.


                      The cages were not dead, because their voices still bubbled and gurgled even in their melted state.


                      "Quiet, or I'll consider mixing iron into you!" he ordered.



                      He turned back to his two escapees and with a flick of his hand, the figurines vanished and he moved his arms behind his back again before continuing to speak.


                      "My real name would take 3 hours for you to pronounce, so you will simply address me as Keeper, or more preferably Master." he introduced himself before glaring at the two of them, "Since it's your first offense, I'm going to be lenient this one time and only give you a mild punishment. But if you cross me like this again, I'll revoke your privilege to remain animated." he threatened, "I would prefer live models, they're so much more fun, but I'm not opposed to pouring molten gold over you and adding some new statues to my home!" With that, he seemed to stand up straight as if he were adjusting his posture and looking down upon them.


                      "Now as for your punishment." he began, "You will spend 3 hours in the slaughter house, providing meat for my more obedient slaves." he ordered.


                      With that, the sound of clanking chains and rushing air filled the room as two meat hooks swung down from the ceiling towards the confused beasts, their speed evident they were intending to impale them on impact.

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                      • #12
                        Jessica tried to escape and shove Max out of the way. She failed. The swinging meat hook took her through her chest. Pain prevented her from seeing clearly what happened to Max as she was carried of to the keeper's slaughter house. The overpowering scent of blood and rotting meat almost made her gag. Only the meat hook impaling her prevented it.

                        Inside the slaughter house, as promised, Jessica provided meat to the keeper more obedient slaves. The sliced off pieces of her with knives or simply tore her flesh with their teeth. As her flesh was eaten, new flesh took its place. The pain of it all staggered the imagination.

                        The slaves that the keeper deemed more obedient than her represented a diverse lot. Only a couple of them looked like normal humans. Other things ate from her she simply could not comprehend. One looked like it was made out of living glass, while another seemed fashioned out of drunken butterflies. Despite knowing her ordeal was to last only three hours, Jessica soon found herself yearning for death.
                        Last edited by Cire; 07-25-2014, 01:11 PM. Reason: typo

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                        • #13
                          Max fared no better. His ears pricked up in time for him to jerk his head up at the hooks, but he was too horrified by "Keeper's" decree to do more than stare stupidly. He managed only a single step, unsure even where to move, before it ran through his back. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came, and he merely gaped as it pulled him up and away, watching "Keeper" and ten cages fade from sight. He had his definition of "true pain" redefined in that moment. And not for the last time in those next three hours.

                          The stench of blood and rot hit like a punch to the face. The anguished cries of men and beasts and things both or neither were just as overwhelming. Max had no chance to recover before the butchers were on him. He perceived none of them clearly, aside a few laughs, a few grumbles about his being scrawny, and perhaps even a quiet, "Sorry." He mostly just felt their knives -- and fangs and fires and claws -- rip away every bit of his flesh. And when it returned, they did it again. Hundreds of times over they stripped him to the bone -- when they didn't cut through -- and hundreds of times his body mended itself for them. He joined the cacophony with his anguished screams and squeals, and before long found he could not distinguish the two. Time quickly lost all meaning.

                          The wall before him held a chart. A diagram of all the cuts on a pig. Each segment flashed in time with the pain of the corresponding flesh taken from him, or outlined the grisly gashes where a butcher hadn't managed or cared for a clean cut. Max had not looked long before the pain alone clamped his eyes shut. But the agony had already seared the image of it into his eyelids.


                          The EX3 What We Know Wiki, courtesy of Marin and JMobius
                          Nishkriya, the EX3 Freelancer Quotes Tracker, courtesy of Anathema and Moonwolf
                          The White Wolf Forum Archive, courtesy of The Dark Wizard and Sanctaphrax (see its Patreon)
                          Arrghus: There's also the Shepherd of the North Star, busily guiding the one thing in all the heavens that doesn't move.

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                          • #14
                            To call the place a slaughter house could not have been anymore accurate. The place wreaked of blood and viscera, and was filled with the sounds of creatures being massacred. They were not the only two who had been placed on the menu today, it seemed. Dozens of other beast morphs such as themselves were hanging from the ceiling, some even being upside down as the hooks were embedded in their ankles or knee caps. Others were being force fed through a grinder, only to appear above it again and fall back in like they were trapped in some kind of time loop. Monsters, humanoids, animals, and creatures the human tongue had no words for were consuming the meat as it was produced. Some ate it raw off the plate, others appeared to wait for it to be properly cooked and prepared before dining.


                            Some of the methods for harvesting the food appeared legitimate, but others appeared specifically designed to fulfill some kind of sadistic pleasure. The sight of a deer getting bludgeoned repeatedly by meat tenderizers being one of the least shocking methods to behold. Thankfully, time eventually passed and the hooks that held them prisoner in this hell hole began to carry them away back towards their previous location, leaving behind many others who apparently had a longer (or perhaps even permanent) duration on their service in the slaughter house.

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                            • #15
                              As the hook whisked Jessica from the slaughter house back toward her previous location, she tried to pull herself free. The thought of seeing the keeper again filled her with dread. Better to simply drop into whatever lay below, whatever that might be. Nothing could be worse than the monster who could inflict such agony. As she tried to pull herself off the hook, her thoughts drifted back to the slaughter house.

                              One memory in particular haunted Jessica. She remembered watching a dog-thing eat her left shoulder blade, the one tattooed with the red racing car, early in her time in the slaughter house. Later, she saw her left shoulder blade eaten again. However, the second time her shoulder had been unadorned by any image of car. The process that had restored her flesh had not brought back her tattoo. Its lose had hit her surprisingly hard. It seemed a minor thing in the midst of all this horror. She supposed it was a link to who she had been before her present nightmarish situation. Now it was gone, leaving her new, unnatural body with no trace other than gender of who she had been before the keeper had taken her. She now truly was a new creature.

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