Independent & Selective Medieval/Urban Fantasy OC (and one Canon) Multimuse RP Blog. Multiverse Friendly. Mun and muses are 18+. Icon by @yaddori-art on Twitter. Penned by Vikareus.
A distressed man stumbles into view before you, his head bleeding profusely as he tripped and fell on the sidewalk. His dirty, bloodstained hands frantically latch onto your shirt the instant you get close, and then he desperately pleads with you for help. You hurriedly reach for your smartphone, but a powerless croak steals your attention before you can dial 911.
Gasping frightenedly, you watch morbidly with widened eyes as the man, whose throat had been slit, slowly releases his grip on your now-ruined shirt while you back away instinctively. You then look up, and you see a tall, hellish, horned creature standing in front of you, wielding a sanguine-coated dagger with a rune-etched obsidian blade in one hand while tears flowed freely from his blood-and-gold eyes.
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. . .
The brass bell hanging above the door jingles merrily as you make your way inside the cafe. The positive reviews you've read online about Little Eden were truthful for the most part, but words fail to bring to life the strangely inviting, laidback atmosphere that is absent in major coffee chains such as Sunbucks.
"Welcome to Little Eden," a tall, blonde, muscular ram with remarkable blue eyes and a black barista apron draped over his clothes smiled warmly at you as he bowed slightly. "Allow me to show you to your seat."
With his guidance, you sit down at one of the booths near the stenciled window and promptly order a sandwich set and a latte without a second thought. He returns minutes later with your lunch, and you thank your host before digging in. From the moment you take a bite of a tuna-and-mayo sandwich and wash it down with some latte, you can't help but feel you have become a bit closer to heaven.
. . .
You are browsing the local corner store for snacks and other goods when you hear shouting behind you. You turn around and catch sight of a tall, broad-shouldered female boar with long, braided hair lifting the owner off his feet while being flanked by some flunkies. She says something about him owing her protection fee, and that it's about time she stops playing nice. Before a punch can land on his face, an equally statuesque female hyena with a prominent crimson mohawk garbed in punk clothes and piercings catches her fist. With a confident, battle-ready smirk, she suggests they settle business outside as blue lightning bolts crackle around her free hand.
She turns her head to face the owner afterward, reminding him that he should return an artifact he borrowed from her ASAP...
. . .
You quietly curse yourself for missing the Hollow expansion warning on your phone, which you forgot to recharge the night before, as you stare fearfully at the pack of Ethereals that slowly but surely closing in on you. Black, grey, and green monstrosities with black hole-like heads that know nothing else but cruelty towards all non-Ether lifeforms, you flinch as one of them launched itself at you with its blade arm.
But something kicked the creature away before it can bring harm to you. Standing in front of you now is a tall, white-furred humanoid wolf in black butler attire with numerous belts adorning his arms and large, fluffy tail. Looking down, you see that his legs are mechanical prosthetics far more advanced than any civilian models you know.
"Worry not," the wolf said to you, his tone calm and refined. "I shall take care of these uninvited guests."
. . .
"TORA!!" was what the musclebound, humanoid Ethereal(?) with wild long hair shouted as it throws a gauntlet-clad hook at a skinny Hollow Thug before it, sending the poor criminal flying away with a pained yet comical yelp. His beefier comrade fares no better either, with the bizarre being pulverizing his gauntlets and soon his body in a flurry of fists, repeating the same battle cry you hear over and over as it did. A tall, brawny Tiger (Beast) Thiren in a tan longcoat with a torn cap stands nearby, his hands in his pocket as he calmly watches the entity metes out its - or was it his - own brand of justice.
On the other side of the battlefield in the Hollow is the tiger's partner - a smaller, skinnier, but equally athletic Sphynx Cat Thiren, who is also the Beast type. He whoops with childlike excitement as he swings around a weight attached via a metal chain to the end of a climbing axe with unbridled confidence and masterful proficiency, tripping up numerous Thugs and disarming others of their weapons. As he uses the chain to clotheslines one of them, you catch him winking at you with an oddly adorable toothy grin.
. . .
Sitting in the middle of a busy tavern in the evening, you overhear a nearby conversation between a silver-scaled dragonborn with mismatched purple-and-cyan eyes and a man who appears to be afflicted with severe sleep deprivation. With a weary voice, the latter speaks of his recent troubles with a group of restless spirits who have tormented him at the graveyard where he works as a grave keeper and at his home. At first, you assume the dragonborn to be a cleric until he gently prompts the man to continue his story, and you catch what seems to be two skeletal specters hovering near the dragonborn's shoulders. One of them, who bears moth-like antennas on its head with a matching, flowing wing-like cape, gives you an acknowledging nod.
“Dialyn, you seemed distracted as of lately,” Banyue commented. “Might I suggest taking some time away from your work?”
Dialyn would crash down into reality as the lionms voice would pierce through the trance she found herself in. “Mm? Oh, naw, I’m good. Thanks for the concern though, Banyueeee~!”
"I mean it, Dialyn," the Construct replied, skepticism and concern evident in his voice module despite his unchanging expression. "I speak to you now not as a colleague, but as a friend. If there's anything that's troubling your thoughts, I shall do my best to help."
Liv uncharacteristically let Mortym touch her as needed, her ears and tail rising upon first contact. Everyone except Wise could sense a slight shift in her body heat that conveyed more than nervousness.
After Mortym asked the question, Liv cocked her head towards the motel room. "Let's talk inside."
Once everyone walked in, Liv scanned the parking lot for a moment before closing the door and pulling the two seats she and Pulchra used the previous evening and set them in front of the bed, offering them to the two men. She would remain standing, her arms crossed. "How much do you know about Senatus, Clemens?"
Clemens? Sure, he and his agents knew each other's first and last names at some point or another, but he had never been referred to strictly by his last name in a commission. Did Liv do extensive research on him? Did Pulchra have a full file on him as a contingency? Once a mercenary...
"Senatus? I...never heard of it. Is it a biker gang?"
"The Sons of Calydon never even mentioned us?" Liv raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. King and the others made you think they ran the whole Outer Ring now that she's the Overlord."
"Is that...not the case?"
"Senatus doesn't recognize the Overlord's authority, not since the Sweepers started slaughtering everyone. People needed refuge from the Motor League. Some of them fought back. They eventually claimed enough territory out east to make their own community. Over here, bikers fight for authority. Over there, we vote. May not always agree with each other in Senatus, but we do agree on this: Anyone from the Motor League gets too close, we gun 'em down." She looked over at Mortym. "Dr. Shayfer can attest to that."
“She’s tellin' the truth, Wise Guy,” Mortym replied, looking at the Proxy. "I...used to live in a town that sat somewhere on the border between Motor League and Senatus' turfs. We kept to ourselves and helped anyone who were passin' by as long as they didn't draw their iron. It wasn't of much help when the Lemures came and burned the place down..."
Pulchra shivered. "I've heard of them; nasty bastards who robs and kills anyone unlucky enough to get in their way. But why didn't you pay either the League or Senatus for protection?"
"It's like Liv said. Things hardly ever ends well if you mix the two together in a tiny town," Mortym frowned. "Most of the militia we used to have were either young greenhorns or old retirees who could barely fire a gun. There wasn't much they could do against bandits who got more people and firepower than them."
Mortym, meanwhile, sat at the back of the van just as Wise instructed. He anxiously and impatiently inspected the sharpness of his chained axes' blades as he shook his feet, his half-hairless tail flicking idly. A lot of thoughts raced through his mind, and he found it difficult to concentrate on one. Could Wise be meeting who he could be thinking of? Could it be just a coincidence?
He nearly dropped his axes and scratched up the ground of the Proxy's car when his phone buzzed. Quickly pulling it from his pocket, he stared at the screen and spotted that familiar singular blue eye notifying him that he could leave the van.
Coast’s clear already? he thought, stowing away the phone as he grabbed his weapon.
Exiting the car, he rushed across the lot and up the stairs, wincing slightly at steadily escalating desert heat. The rumination of him being too used to the city’s temperate weather ceased the moment he saw that c—
That pink skin, that black spot, those blue eyes...the very doctor who helped her when she went out of her way to save him stood right there in the flesh. There was hardly a thing about him that changed, though his personality seemed a bit more chipper since his escape.
However, she knew that while he hardly changed, she drastically changed. For a brief moment, she couldn't even look him in the eye, Liv turning her head down as if to hide the obvious marks on her face and eyes. "Dr. Shayfer," she greeted, folding her hands in front of her waist and bowing slightly. "I...don't think you'll be able to treat this."
"Mortym? What's with this 'Dr. Shayfer' stuff?" asked Wise.
"I'll explain later," the Sphynx Thiren responded, before turning to Liv with concern. "Let me take a look."
Pulchra quickly stepped outside to allow room for Mortym to do what he needed, but just like Wise, she was just as confused as he was despite her vigilance. A long time back, she had assumed that he was just another city buffoon who would love nothing more than to waste his time chasing tails and other cheap thrills, but now he was acting almost like a different person. There was a degree of professionalism and proficiency - as rusty as they were - that she had never seen before.
The so-called washed-up detective was careful to maintain his distance, as much as he wanted to show his joy at seeing Liv again. For the moment, he took in whatever info he could find from simple observations and a few cautious touches, and he had little choice but to accept the harsh sight in front of him.
"Shit..." he cursed. "How did you get corrupted this badly?"
She checked her ammo, twirled her revolvers backwards before holstering them, then retrieved her shotgun from under the bed. She looked out the window and took note of the logo and title: Random Play. The Proxy had a front to stave off suspicion from the city authorities. While she greatly doubted she'd need to find the Proxy after her mission, it was still important to retain every detail possible in case anything happened.
"Pat him down before letting him in," she said before putting her mask on.
Pulchra watched Wise closely as he stepped out of the van and made his way towards hers and Liv’s room. She had already told him that they would be in Room 213 on the second floor, with the stairs leading up or down separated by two rooms. After a while later, followed up by a brief, sequenced knocks, Pulchra opened the door for Wise.
“Wait. Need to frisk you down for a sec,” she said. Just as she was about to tell him to hold up his arms, her nose crinkled.
She frowned with mild disappointment and suspicion. “Did you bring someone else?”
"Frisk me down...?" Admittedly, Wise was feeling a bit flustered at the thought of Pulchra putting her hands all over him. Sure, he was a professional, but he was a man at the end of the day. However, before he could ask if she was joking, he noted the serious tone and the stiff tail on her. She wasn't kidding at all.
He raised his arms up without being prompted to, then felt his heart sink when Pulchra caught onto his gambit immediately. How could she have figured him out so quickly? Her ears, tail, and "toe beans" gave him his answer.
There was no use lying to her at that point. "I did say I'd need an escort after my first time here. But don't worry. It's nobody from the Sons of Calydon."
Behind Pulchra, Wise first saw the golden-purple eyes. The eyes got closer, but the sound of footsteps was nonexistent. Eventually he saw the rest of the lemur's visage, hair, fur, jacket, jeans, boots...and three firearms ready to be emptied at the slightest provocation. Wise gasped when he saw the scars throughout her face, instantly recalling the last time he'd seen such a grim sight...
"I...take it you're Pulchra's friend?" he asked uncertainly.
The lemur took off her mask, glaring at Wise as she inhaled deeply through her nose, more purple cracks visible on her cheeks. Then the glare morphed into recognition, and her shoulders relaxed. "If I didn't recognize Dr. Shayfer's scent, housekeeping would have had a hell of a day. Bring him over."
Wise blinked. "Dr. Shayfer...?" There was a lot of questions going through his mind right then, but he kept his hands up. The last thing he needed was for her to assume he was drawing a weapon when he was just getting his phone. "Fairy?"
"Sending a message to Agent Mortym now."
"Hell is that?" Liv snapped, body tensing again.
"It's my phone's virtual assistant," Wise clarified, though the bead of sweat forming on his forehead implied there was much more to it than that. Or, the Proxy was simply overheating already; he was wearing a long-sleeve shirt, after all.
Mortym, meanwhile, sat at the back of the van just as Wise instructed. He anxiously and impatiently inspected the sharpness of his chained axes' blades as he shook his feet, his half-hairless tail flicking idly. A lot of thoughts raced through his mind, and he found it difficult to concentrate on one. Could Wise be meeting who he could be thinking of? Could it be just a coincidence?
He nearly dropped his axes and scratched up the ground of the Proxy's car when his phone buzzed. Quickly pulling it from his pocket, he stared at the screen and spotted that familiar singular blue eye notifying him that he could leave the van.
Coast’s clear already? he thought, stowing away the phone as he grabbed his weapon.
Exiting the car, he rushed across the lot and up the stairs, wincing slightly at steadily escalating desert heat. The rumination of him being too used to the city’s temperate weather ceased the moment he saw that c—
Funniest thing that's happened to Pulchra? And what's something in canon you ignore for her?
First question:
Some time after she initially joined the Sons of Calydon as their intel gatherer, Pulchra would prefer to shower alone as a means of protecting her privacy, spinning one excuse after the other whenever another member invites her to join them, especially Burnice.
One evening, when she thought that she was alone after getting out of the shower to dry up, Burnice unexpectedly appeared when her fur was all puffed up.
She still had a picture of Pulchra looking like a cotton candy with legs to this day.
Second question:
Aside from what will happen in the story of Lethal Ether Redemption that takes place after Patch 2.2 of Zenless? It's a bit difficult for me to describe, given the fact that she's a boss character turned playable A-Rank Agent who never appeared in any major stories. The most I can say is that she won't take Lucy's racist remark lying down that easily, even after joining the gang, and that she will appear different in the flashbacks with Liv and Milena. Shorter hair, less fanservicey outfit, etc.
She checked her ammo, twirled her revolvers backwards before holstering them, then retrieved her shotgun from under the bed. She looked out the window and took note of the logo and title: Random Play. The Proxy had a front to stave off suspicion from the city authorities. While she greatly doubted she'd need to find the Proxy after her mission, it was still important to retain every detail possible in case anything happened.
"Pat him down before letting him in," she said before putting her mask on.
Pulchra watched Wise closely as he stepped out of the van and made his way towards hers and Liv’s room. She had already told him that they would be in Room 213 on the second floor, with the stairs leading up or down separated by two rooms. After a while later, followed up by a brief, sequenced knocks, Pulchra opened the door for Wise.
“Wait. Need to frisk you down for a sec,” she said. Just as she was about to tell him to hold up his arms, her nose crinkled.
She frowned with mild disappointment and suspicion. “Did you bring someone else?”
Send one of the following to ask the mun… (please specify muse for multis)
✍ Favorite thing about writing the muse?
👀Favorite thing about the muse’s appearance?
🌌Favorite alternate version of the muse?
💕Favorite ship for the muse?
💔Least favorite ship for the muse?
💢Something about the muse that annoys you?
😈Worst thing you’ve ever done to your muse?
😂Funniest thing that’s ever happened to your muse?
💡 What inspires you to write the muse?
📷 Favorite picture/screencap of your muse?
📑 Favorite part of your muse’s backstory?
📝 Favorite headcanon for your muse?
😒 Is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore?
🔮 What do you see in your muse’s future?
🔥 Unpopular opinion about your muse?
💭 Favorite memory of the muse?
😩 Hardest thing about writing the muse?
⌨ What’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse?
🎭 How similar are you and the muse?
Her ears perked up at the sound of Pulchra's voice, her shoulders slumping as she set the revolver back down, letting out a relieved sigh. She wiped her Ether-touched eyes before getting up. "Always had trouble sleeping in motels."
Now that Pulchra had gotten more used to seeing the corruption transformation in Liv, she'd likely notice the patch on Liv's jacket over the left part of her chest that read, "It's a beautiful day; now watch some bastard fuck it up."
"Is he here yet?" she asked, putting her boots on.
“Yeah,” Pulchra nodded, looking through the window blinds. “He’s pulling in right now.”
Among the Outer Ring’s barren, sandy hills and sun-baked, asphalted road, Phaethon’s black and yellow business van stood out like a sore thumb amidst the usual big rigs, motorcycles, and other rugged off-road vehicles. As Pulchra squinted, she saw a familiar young man with short-medium length gray hair dressed in trendy city clothes in the driver's seat of the car as he entered the motel's lot. The passenger seat next to him was empty.
So he kept his words, the Cat Thiren thought, But you can never be 100% sure...
Some angry drivers stepped outside their cars and turned towards Shrike. One reindeer buck pointed to the daemon and said, "That's the asshole jaywalking! Let's kick his ass!"
Shrike then had about a dozen drivers shouting and chasing after him. He'd have to find Dan fast...
He had no idea what got into these Philadelphians, or if anything got to them at all, but they were desperate and pissed. Some of them threw whatever they got at him from shoes to soda cans, while others lunged forward in an attempt to tackle him.
Deftly hopping over the shoulders of a lynx who tried to bar his way, the daemon followed the drunken leprechaun to the other side of the street and into the alleyway.
Though the motel's heating was unreliable, Pulchra and Liv had no trouble keeping warm. Liv had no issue doing whatever it took to keep each other from freezing since she trusted her, and she figured not sleeping alone would have helped with her nightmares.
It didn't.
She thought she was in the waking world when she headed towards the bathroom, her throat parched. She looked in the mirror and found her jacket covered in blood, her knife in her hands and crimson-stained. Her hair was black instead of white and ran past her shoulders, caked with gore.
She knew exactly where she was. Instead of the Mercury Motel, she was in a seedy motel within Senatus territory. It was enough of a mess to get the blood off of her normal fur, but her hair was a different matter. Someone had just exploited her hair as a weakness not even 30 minutes prior. Something like that could never happen again.
Streams of blood poured down the sink drain as Liv washed her knife. Once it was clean, she brought the knife to her hair. As she lifted her knife, she saw a pair of tiger paws materialize behind her, one clamping around her mouth, the other holding a syringe full of bright, purple Ether.
The sharp pain on the right side of her neck shot through her faster than she could react. A nauseating, woozy feeling swirled around her head, Liv feeling her personhood shedding by the second...
Liv woke up in the Mercury Motel with a jolt and a loud gasp, immediately putting her hand on her neck. She quickly whipped her head around to get her bearings in an unfamiliar room, reaching for the nearest weapon.
It was never a question of if they had people following them to the motel; it's a matter of when. However, as soon as Liv impulsively grabbed her revolver off the nearby nightstand, Pulchra raised her arms when she was turning away from the window.
“H-Hey, Liv! Take it easy!” Pulchra called out. “Are you okay?”
Wise blinked at him. "...Good night, Mortym." He quickly closed the door and audibly locked it, rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his hair. Mortym's confession gave Wise brand new perspective on Sergio. At first, he thought the alley cat was exaggerating how much Mortym would invade his personal space. Now, Wise felt like he owed Sergio an apology for laughing off his complaints...
Mortym stood helplessly outside of Wise’s room as the Proxy promptly shut the door and sealed it tight. Sighing deeply in defeat, the hairless cat pulled the blanket closer around his body as he trotted downstairs back to the staff room. He dropped onto the couch on his side.
“There’s always more fish in the sea, right?” he told himself. Although his grin was wide, it soon curved into a frown as he turned around to face the couch's back.
"That was a total accident, okay?" Mortym protested, staring at Wise defensively with widened eyes. "I was half-asleep when my hands wandered to that spot on JoJo's body. He's never lettin' me sleep with him again, even if I asked nicely!"
"Well, too many blankets makes me hot, and having just one makes me freezes," Mortym argued. "I find the sweet spot to be one where I have one cover and one person I can grab onto. I promise I won't do to you what I did to JoJo that one time."
"Can you do me a favor and let me sleep next to you for the night?" the Sphynx Thiren said, his large eyes looking at Wise pleadingly. "I can't help you tomorrow if I can't do my cat thing."
I'll see if I can find a moment to edit the muses page later, but this will be the list for the Zenless muses I currently RP:
First, the OCs:
Jordan Johannes (S-Rank Ether, Stun): A tall, muscular Tiger Beast Thiren with a generally composed, no-nonsense demeanor who has a mysterious Ethereal-like entity bound to him in body and mind. Despite sharing almost nothing in common with the pink-haired leader of a certain odd job agency, his financial luck was just as bad, if not worse, than hers.
Mortymer 'Mortym' Shayfer (A-Rank Physical, Anomaly): Jordan's wiry, easygoing Beast Cat Thiren partner, notable for having little to no fur as befitting a Sphynx. Despite his fighting prowess with a pair of chain-linked axes, he has developed a reputation for being a shameless glutton and an irreverent jokester. Perhaps there's more to him than he's willing to let on?
