Mew Mew Crash! (Magical Girl PF, les/bi, NC, etc etc)

[NicciKotor]

  Awesome, Nicci-chan. I love that setting. 

  So, I guess I'll write you a full application and see if you like.  Is Myth Weavers okay?  I have trouble logging into Plot Hook.

Just don't bother to finish her, since I want to see who else is still interested. It's not first come first served.

[Muse]

  Is everyone human in this setting? 

  Are there every day magic users? Or is it a rare and mysterious force?

[NicciKotor]

  Is everyone human in this setting? 

  Are there every day magic users? Or is it a rare and mysterious force?

You can go elf or half elf is you want. And only the magical girls and the villains have magic. Which is why I didn't bother to post any starting gold, since you cannot buy any magical items in the first place. I'll drop a few from mini bosses and the like from time to time, but you'll have to make your own if you want some.

That being said, you still get your magical girl weaponry from the transformation, and at this level it will be a +2 weapon of your choice type. If you are going for sexy magical girl armor as well, you get the +2 light armor set the same way, and how you can only use them when you are transformed.

[Teo Torriatte]

Ok here she is on Plothook

http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=12119

I just need to do her hp and for you to look things over and make sure the whole thing jives. And a pic.

I modeled the Sexy Magical Armor on Parade/Studded Leather, btw.

Would you like me to delete the other message where I posted my character?

[Sethala]

Need to set the character sheet to public, Luna.

[Teo Torriatte]

Thank you.. hopefully that is done now.  :-)

[Sethala]

Works for me now.

[Teo Torriatte]

Thank you very much!  :-)

Two potential pics for my character... I'll spoiler them so as not to take up all kinds of space in the ooc.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

[Muse]

I like the first better, Luna chan. 

Here's my work in progress Parkour girl. 

http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=555765

She became an orphan at 11 when she was taken from her father.  He left her a stuffed squirrel and lessons in fencing. 

[Sethala]

I think I also like the first one, though they both have that fugly DA watermark...

[NicciKotor]

Yeah I can do a better job of this:

http://imgur.com/a/8RvbG#0

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

That just screams magical girl.

[Teo Torriatte]

Oooh ty Nicci that does look very nice!

Much better than the ones I found, hehe.

[NicciKotor]

Fog cloud will make for a great get-a-way spell, for when the cops come to arrest your shiny butt for disturbing the peace.

[NicciKotor]

I also need a basic back ground and sexual kinks. Stuff like where you are living and if you have a job and so on and so forth.

[Teo Torriatte]

Okies I will do those when I get home from work in the morning.  :-)

[Cessali]

Submitted for your approval: Mia Song!  If this works for you, I'll complete the sheet-- I'm inclined to do Fighting and either SP or Wizardmagic.

If we do decide to take armor, are we subject to the usual rules regarding spell mishap?

Origin

Origin: There are a handful of orphanages run by decent folk in the city, and for the first many years of her life, Mia Song was raised in one of them.  It was a religious institution, run by local clergy and administered as part of the church, and while Mia was never anywhere close to living well, she was also fortunate enough to never grow hungry.  Her sunny, go-get-'em disposition was never quite what would-be parents looking to adopt were interested in, though, and so by the time she was twelve she had resigned herself to living as the older kids did: with a sense of dread for the future, when the church would no longer see to her needs.

It was also at the age of twelve that the orphanage Mia lived at was burned down in the night, taking most of the people she cared for with her.

Investigators later called it arson, set by someone with a grudge against the sister in charge of the building, but what it meant for Mia was that she was out on the street.  There were no records that survived, and there were no other facilities to take the other survivors in.  Mia wouldn't let her friends go quietly, though; she rounded them up, told them that they were going to -find- a way to survive, no matter what the adults thought they were going to do.  Cowed by the force of personality, the other kids overlooked what Mia had brought with her from the fire, the only possession she had that she still cared about: a bright yellow stuffed bird named Sunny, something she'd been given as a child by one of the sisters at the orphanage, and something she vowed to remember them by.

It was never easy, but Mia was strong-willed enough to adapt.  She learned how to fight.  She learned how to be tough.  And she learned how to be mean if she had to, even if she never really wanted to.  They lived like this for years, and to Mia's credit, half of them survived long enough to find how to live for themselves.  By the time she was eighteen, she was something of a wunderkind: appreciated by her fellows in the city's underclass for being an honorable ringleader, and watched by the criminal population of the city for being a possible threat to their business operations.  She took her fame in stride, somewhat oblivious to the risks involved, until one night when her favorite (now-dingy) stuffed bird started telling her that she-- and the whole of her district-- was in terrible danger.

Sunny told her that the criminal element of the city was no longer willing to tolerate her presence.  To extinguish the hope Mia was bringing, they hatched a plan to torch the whole of the district she was living in-- to kill her by the same method she'd lost everything else.  For a terrible moment, Mia teetered between despair for herself (was she mad to be listening to a stuffed animal?) and despair for the people she cared for (how many people would die for being caught in a fire meant for her?)-- but Sunny then gave her a spark of hope.  If she was willing, he said, he could give her the power to fight back.

She said yes.

Mia's memory of the next few moments is hazy.  When she came to, though, she found herself in the body she now has-- taller, stronger, faster, and with a low pair of antlers parting her honey-blonde hair-- and armed with a weapon beyond her imagination.  With these armaments, she fell upon those who would harm her loved ones, killing those who refused to relent and scattering those with the wits to flee.

Where Mia had been an advocate and an organizer in the past, living off the scraps she and the other kids could beg from generous souls, she is now a warrior and a guardian, living much as she had before, squatting in tenement housing.  She has been seen once or twice since then in public, when she knew she needed to help, but for now she remains reluctant to take greater action.  They may not be able to touch her, but she can't leave the kids she's 'adopted' into her little clan of strays without exposing them to greater danger, and as such the situation remains in an awkward detente between her and the darkness that lies in the hearts of men...

hinks

Mia has not had many good experiences with sex in her life-- she remembers church teachings very clearly, and they say that having relations outside of a wedding bed is spiritually wrong.  This is not to say she's had no experience-- she has tentatively kissed a few boys in years gone by, but she's never allowed herself to be more than hugged.  She doesn't know this yet, but she's very much a sensualist: when the time comes, if she is courted by the right person, she might just wilt with the first stroke of a fingertip down her back.

Images, Magical Girl and Otherwise

As Mia Song

As the Nameless Thunder Dragon Blessed By Clouds

Delicious pictographic 'magical girl' nudge

[NicciKotor]

Submitted for your approval: Mia Song!  If this works for you, I'll complete the sheet-- I'm inclined to do Fighting and either SP or Wizardmagic.

If we do decide to take armor, are we subject to the usual rules regarding spell mishap?

Origin

Origin: There are a handful of orphanages run by decent folk in the city, and for the first many years of her life, Mia Song was raised in one of them.  It was a religious institution, run by local clergy and administered as part of the church, and while Mia was never anywhere close to living well, she was also fortunate enough to never grow hungry.  Her sunny, go-get-'em disposition was never quite what would-be parents looking to adopt were interested in, though, and so by the time she was twelve she had resigned herself to living as the older kids did: with a sense of dread for the future, when the church would no longer see to her needs.

It was also at the age of twelve that the orphanage Mia lived at was burned down in the night, taking most of the people she cared for with her.

Investigators later called it arson, set by someone with a grudge against the sister in charge of the building, but what it meant for Mia was that she was out on the street.  There were no records that survived, and there were no other facilities to take the other survivors in.  Mia wouldn't let her friends go quietly, though; she rounded them up, told them that they were going to -find- a way to survive, no matter what the adults thought they were going to do.  Cowed by the force of personality, the other kids overlooked what Mia had brought with her from the fire, the only possession she had that she still cared about: a bright yellow stuffed bird named Sunny, something she'd been given as a child by one of the sisters at the orphanage, and something she vowed to remember them by.

It was never easy, but Mia was strong-willed enough to adapt.  She learned how to fight.  She learned how to be tough.  And she learned how to be mean if she had to, even if she never really wanted to.  They lived like this for years, and to Mia's credit, half of them survived long enough to find how to live for themselves.  By the time she was eighteen, she was something of a wunderkind: appreciated by her fellows in the city's underclass for being an honorable ringleader, and watched by the criminal population of the city for being a possible threat to their business operations.  She took her fame in stride, somewhat oblivious to the risks involved, until one night when her favorite (now-dingy) stuffed bird started telling her that she-- and the whole of her district-- was in terrible danger.

Sunny told her that the criminal element of the city was no longer willing to tolerate her presence.  To extinguish the hope Mia was bringing, they hatched a plan to torch the whole of the district she was living in-- to kill her by the same method she'd lost everything else.  For a terrible moment, Mia teetered between despair for herself (was she mad to be listening to a stuffed animal?) and despair for the people she cared for (how many people would die for being caught in a fire meant for her?)-- but Sunny then gave her a spark of hope.  If she was willing, he said, he could give her the power to fight back.

She said yes.

Mia's memory of the next few moments is hazy.  When she came to, though, she found herself in the body she now has-- taller, stronger, faster, and with a low pair of antlers parting her honey-blonde hair-- and armed with a weapon beyond her imagination.  With these armaments, she fell upon those who would harm her loved ones, killing those who refused to relent and scattering those with the wits to flee.

Where Mia had been an advocate and an organizer in the past, living off the scraps she and the other kids could beg from generous souls, she is now a warrior and a guardian, living much as she had before, squatting in tenement housing.  She has been seen once or twice since then in public, when she knew she needed to help, but for now she remains reluctant to take greater action.  They may not be able to touch her, but she can't leave the kids she's 'adopted' into her little clan of strays without exposing them to greater danger, and as such the situation remains in an awkward detente between her and the darkness that lies in the hearts of men...

hinks

Mia has not had many good experiences with sex in her life-- she remembers church teachings very clearly, and they say that having relations outside of a wedding bed is spiritually wrong.  This is not to say she's had no experience-- she has tentatively kissed a few boys in years gone by, but she's never allowed herself to be more than hugged.  She doesn't know this yet, but she's very much a sensualist: when the time comes, if she is courted by the right person, she might just wilt with the first stroke of a fingertip down her back.

Images, Magical Girl and Otherwise

As Mia Song

As the Nameless Thunder Dragon Blessed By Clouds

Delicious pictographic 'magical girl' nudge

Not magical girly enough.

[NicciKotor]

Here is a much better picture for Aquaria.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

[Autocad]

Samantha Rosewood

Character design

Backstory

It wasn't easy when her parents left for the colonies. She wasn't even old enough to remember their faces properly when the final goodbyes were exchanged. They were officers, part of the army sent to stamp out the indigenous rebels and put the primitive savages back in their proper places - in grateful service to civilized man. "Samantha, you have to be a big girl for mommy now, okay?" Her mother had told her. "We'll be back in time for your birthday party," her father had promised. "Can we go to the zoo?" She had asked, eyes beaming. "Of course," her father had nodded, patted her head, and then he was gone. She remembered the cawing of seagulls and the acrid smell rising from the smokestacks of the ship that bore her parents across the sea, never to return.

Father and mother were still busy in the colonies, they had explained apologetically in the letter that arrived on her birthday, so they wouldn't be coming home for a while. Instead, happy birthday and look at this stuffed animal your mother picked out for you! It's a flamingo, a bird from the colonies that stood on one leg in the lakes and dipped its head into the water to catch fish. That's why its head is a different colour from the rest of its body, see. Samantha hugged it close to her chest that night while she cried herself to sleep.

It didn't get easier when several birthdays later, her father had been granted land and title for his valiant deeds in the war, and made governor of the colonies. He wrote her a letter and sent it with the treasure ship returning from the colonies just as he did every year. Her mother had fallen sick with a tropical disease and passed on three months ago. He himself had to remain in the colonies to fulfill his administrative duties. The colonies, however, were completely unfit for raising and educating a young lady like herself, so she was to remain where she was. His rank entitled him to an estate in the city and he had arranged for her to move in there and a governess to oversee her upbringing. The estate was large and cold with old servants who made poor conversation. A pair of paintings hung in the main hall: Lord and Lady Rosewood. Their faces were strangers to Samantha Rosewood. The governess made sure that Samantha had food, clothes and schooling, and otherwise ignored her existence.  She had hope, however. In a postscript to his letter her father had promised to return in a few years as his term as governor would expire then. He kept his promise, and returned on time for once.

In a closed casket. She inherited his title and his wealth, but of his personal effects only his ceremonial short sword was passed down to her. Everyone was strangely silent about the circumstances of his death.

She was Lady Rosewood now and she had a legendary name to live up to. In death her father's deeds became even more heroic, even more outlandish, and people looked for the same in the next person to bear his name. She became alienated from her friends and schoolmates; either they resented her status or they venerated her and expected great things of her, then became disappointed when she could not deliver. The other noble lords and ladies looked down upon her as an entitled upstart brat when all she wanted was to be normal like everybody else. Then one night, when she had been crying into her stuffed flamingo again, it suddenly slapped her on the face with a fluffy wing. It didn't hurt - the cloth was too soft for that - but it did shock her frozen. "Hey, can you get a proper hankie instead of using me as a towel? Don't think I like getting my feathers wet just because I'm a waterfowl!"

"You - you can talk!? And move!? But you're just a stuffed toy!"

"I resent that! Don't lump me in with those useless puffballs! I'm not just any stuffed toy: I'm a witch doctor's doll and that makes me as different from them as you are from a monkey. Do you know how hard it's been keeping still all these years while you cried on me like a baby? I thought it would get better once you grew up, but no! A magic doll like me deserves better than this!"

Samantha latched on to one word in that and disregarded the absurdity of talking to a stuffed toy for the moment. "Magic? Then... can you do magic? Like, make me normal, like everyone else, so I can fit in?"

"Sorry, girl, but magic is special. Unique. Different. It makes great or terrible, not mundane. You're asking the impossible, I'm afraid."

"Then..." her voice hardened. Resolve and inner strength, built up unknowingly from years of forced independence, shone through. Unconscious bitterness towards the man who called himself her father but never bothered to return home while he had his adventures in unknown lands, and a hidden desire to one-up him, surfaced. "Then make me special. Unique. Great - greater than my father. I want to be known, not as the daughter of Lord Rosewood, but as Lady Rosewood in my own right."

"As long as you stop crying on me, I'm game. But first things first, I need a focus, something from my homeland."

She thought. Besides the stuffed toy itself there was only one other object she had that had spent any time in the colonies. Her father's sword hung above the fireplace in the main hall as an ornament and reminder.

"You know what? That thing normally shouldn't count, but it's been bathed in so much blood it's practically an artifact in its own right by now. Where is it now?"

"I'll show you."

And so, in the hall of the Rosewoods, Samantha swore the oaths of a magical girl and took her father's sword as her focus, so that she would prove herself to be greater than him.

"Good," the flamingo had admitted when they were done, "just in time for your first outing to try out your new powers!"

"Huh?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention it? Your friends' envy has gotten so out of hand that they're making shadow monsters wander the night while they dream. It's your fault you know. Out you go and good luck beating them all! If you don't who knows what they'll do to the city!"

Her stuffed toy had practically kicked her out the door where she was immediately accosted by shadowy... monstrous... things. She had stumbled through her first battle against the shadows of darkness... somehow.

"You could have warned me!" She screamed at it when it was all over. "I never wanted this!"

"Oh really? I thought this was exactly what you wanted. Wasn't it? Deep down inside, and all that."

"I..." she stammered and stopped. Power in her hands, all she wanted, not within her reach, just waiting to be grasped. She couldn't honestly say no.

[NicciKotor]

Samantha Rosewood

Character design

Backstory

It wasn't easy when her parents left for the colonies. She wasn't even old enough to remember their faces properly when the final goodbyes were exchanged. They were officers, part of the army sent to stamp out the indigenous rebels and put the primitive savages back in their proper places - in grateful service to civilized man. "Samantha, you have to be a big girl for mommy now, okay?" Her mother had told her. "We'll be back in time for your birthday party," her father had promised. "Can we go to the zoo?" She had asked, eyes beaming. "Of course," her father had nodded, patted her head, and then he was gone. She remembered the cawing of seagulls and the acrid smell rising from the smokestacks of the ship that bore her parents across the sea, never to return.

Father and mother were still busy in the colonies, they had explained apologetically in the letter that arrived on her birthday, so they wouldn't be coming home for a while. Instead, happy birthday and look at this stuffed animal your mother picked out for you! It's a flamingo, a bird from the colonies that stood on one leg in the lakes and dipped its head into the water to catch fish. That's why its head is a different colour from the rest of its body, see. Samantha hugged it close to her chest that night while she cried herself to sleep.

It didn't get easier when several birthdays later, her father had been granted land and title for his valiant deeds in the war, and made governor of the colonies. He wrote her a letter and sent it with the treasure ship returning from the colonies just as he did every year. Her mother had fallen sick with a tropical disease and passed on three months ago. He himself had to remain in the colonies to fulfill his administrative duties. The colonies, however, were completely unfit for raising and educating a young lady like herself, so she was to remain where she was. His rank entitled him to an estate in the city and he had arranged for her to move in there and a governess to oversee her upbringing. The estate was large and cold with old servants who made poor conversation. A pair of paintings hung in the main hall: Lord and Lady Rosewood. Their faces were strangers to Samantha Rosewood. The governess made sure that Samantha had food, clothes and schooling, and otherwise ignored her existence.  She had hope, however. In a postscript to his letter her father had promised to return in a few years as his term as governor would expire then. He kept his promise, and returned on time for once.

In a closed casket. She inherited his title and his wealth, but of his personal effects only his ceremonial short sword was passed down to her. Everyone was strangely silent about the circumstances of his death.

She was Lady Rosewood now and she had a legendary name to live up to. In death her father's deeds became even more heroic, even more outlandish, and people looked for the same in the next person to bear his name. She became alienated from her friends and schoolmates; either they resented her status or they venerated her and expected great things of her, then became disappointed when she could not deliver. The other noble lords and ladies looked down upon her as an entitled upstart brat when all she wanted was to be normal like everybody else. Then one night, when she had been crying into her stuffed flamingo again, it suddenly slapped her on the face with a fluffy wing. It didn't hurt - the cloth was too soft for that - but it did shock her frozen. "Hey, can you get a proper hankie instead of using me as a towel? Don't think I like getting my feathers wet just because I'm a waterfowl!"

"You - you can talk!? And move!? But you're just a stuffed toy!"

"I resent that! Don't lump me in with those useless puffballs! I'm not just any stuffed toy: I'm a witch doctor's doll and that makes me as different from them as you are from a monkey. Do you know how hard it's been keeping still all these years while you cried on me like a baby? I thought it would get better once you grew up, but no! A magic doll like me deserves better than this!"

Samantha latched on to one word in that and disregarded the absurdity of talking to a stuffed toy for the moment. "Magic? Then... can you do magic? Like, make me normal, like everyone else, so I can fit in?"

"Sorry, girl, but magic is special. Unique. Different. It makes great or terrible, not mundane. You're asking the impossible, I'm afraid."

"Then..." her voice hardened. Resolve and inner strength, built up unknowingly from years of forced independence, shone through. Unconscious bitterness towards the man who called himself her father but never bothered to return home while he had his adventures in unknown lands, and a hidden desire to one-up him, surfaced. "Then make me special. Unique. Great - greater than my father. I want to be known, not as the daughter of Lord Rosewood, but as Lady Rosewood in my own right."

"As long as you stop crying on me, I'm game. But first things first, I need a focus, something from my homeland."

She thought. Besides the stuffed toy itself there was only one other object she had that had spent any time in the colonies. Her father's sword hung above the fireplace in the main hall as an ornament and reminder.

"You know what? That thing normally shouldn't count, but it's been bathed in so much blood it's practically an artifact in its own right by now. Where is it now?"

"I'll show you."

And so, in the hall of the Rosewoods, Samantha swore the oaths of a magical girl and took her father's sword as her focus, so that she would prove herself to be greater than him.

"Good," the flamingo had admitted when they were done, "just in time for your first outing to try out your new powers!"

"Huh?"

"Oh, did I forget to mention it? Your friends' envy has gotten so out of hand that they're making shadow monsters wander the night while they dream. It's your fault you know. Out you go and good luck beating them all! If you don't who knows what they'll do to the city!"

Her stuffed toy had practically kicked her out the door where she was immediately accosted by shadowy... monstrous... things. She had stumbled through her first battle against the shadows of darkness... somehow.

"You could have warned me!" She screamed at it when it was all over. "I never wanted this!"

"Oh really? I thought this was exactly what you wanted. Wasn't it? Deep down inside, and all that."

"I..." she stammered and stopped. Power in her hands, all she wanted, not within her reach, just waiting to be grasped. She couldn't honestly say no.

What, no character sheet? And we already have a pink magical girl with Sethala, so picture is redundant. Also the hair color is wrong.

[Autocad]

I actually can't see Sethala's application, so that's why. One of you might want to do something about that.

Character sheet will come up once the other things have been confirmed.

P.S. Can you link to a hair color guide?

[NicciKotor]

I actually can't see Sethala's application, so that's why. One of you might want to do something about that.

Character sheet will come up once the other things have been confirmed.

P.S. Can you link to a hair color guide?

Already have a pink hair and a blue hair. There is your guide. Also, as it stands, the third spot is between you and Muse. Which means bribes and dance fights are in order.

[Autocad]

Is there a link to Sethala's character somewhere for reference?

Also, what is your favourite bribe?  ;D

[Muse]

She didn't like mine.  *pouts* 

[NicciKotor]

Nope, I've just been talking to him about it.

Also a good bribe is finding me a complete English copy of the spice and wolf novels.

I could be evil and bump the limit to four. Which is the paranoid thing to do, since there is always a dropper after a game starts. So you two can get in, since I am feeling charitable and evil. Muywhahahahaa.

I still want those books.

Also a good bribe is any erotic fantasy novels you may know that would be interesting to read. And Kushiel Dart doesn't count.