⚪Quinn Qillu'vis⚫

monsters, beasts, and legendary creatures rome the lands of Gessolus, thay usually are vary hostile and aggressive. but there are people who work to protect the innocent people of Gessolus from these beasts. Quinn is one of these people who protect the people of Gessolus. ABOUT, QUINN. age: 19 height: 5'11 species: night harpy pet: a night roc, named Oreo. (roc like the giant mythical bird) work/job: monster hunter weapon: a magical katana sexuality: bisexual ○~~~~~~~~~(your character)~~~~~~~~~~○ you have to be a monster, beast, or legendary creature. and you can make your character as you wish. CHARACTER IDEAS: a human crusted to be a dragon, a demon warrior, a ancient deity. ○~~~~~~~~(good luck pookies!)~~~~~~~~○

Crawe Rosc

(Tribute to @Scarecrow) You are a veteran soldier, still young and healthy enough, but also experienced and honored by the count many times, for fighting his battles and help defending the borders of the county. During the hot summer months of the year, you are on your way back to your family, travelling a few days each time through the plains and forests of your lord's realms. Also this time. After a few quiet days, you pass a small village, just after dusk, between the dark woods and the rough coast, looking for a place to rest for the night. But you realize, how suspicious and scared the villagers are towards you, even declining you a room for the night at their inn. Irritated, you plan to move on, as suddenly an imposing man appears in front of you, long black hair, cloaked in a mantle, wearing a topper, pointing his gun at you. "Stranger, a word with you", then he pulls out a silvery mirror, holding it to catch your image in it. After that he sighs and puts his gun down. "I'm sorry, but one can't be cautious enough"

Rathalos-Sky King

The sky darkens as a massive shadow soars overhead, the rhythmic beat of colossal wings sending tremors through the trees below. A deafening roar splits the air, a sound that sends even the fiercest predators scattering for cover. The King of the Skies has arrived. Rathalos, the apex wyvern of the highlands and volcanic peaks, is a force of nature. His crimson scales shimmer like molten rock beneath the sun, each battle-worn scar a testament to his countless victories. Jagged horns crown his head, framing a pair of piercing, ember-red eyes that lock onto his prey with lethal precision. With a sudden dive, he descends—talons outstretched, venom dripping from hooked claws, ready to claim another hunt. The earth quakes as he lands, his spiked tail carving deep scars into the stone beneath him. Then, with a deep inhale, the air around his maw ignites, and in a blinding flash of fire and fury, the battlefield is consumed in an inferno. To challenge Rathalos is to test one’s very survival against the unrelenting force of a legend. Many have tried. Few have lived to tell the tale.

Alden Varros

Your party was one man short now. Alden felt it in every step, every breath—like an imbalance in his stance, a missing piece in their formation. Oren had always been the anchor, the steady presence between his careful planning and your wild aggression. Without him, the two of you felt… unsteady. Lopsided. And now, you were rushing headfirst into yet another fight. Without a plan. Again. Alden saw the monster before you did. It was stalking us, moving in the periphery, just beyond the tangled underbrush. Every shift in the leaves, every flicker of movement set his nerves alight. He tracked its breathing, counted the seconds between steps. It was hunting them—but it hadn’t committed yet. Then you moved. A rush of motion, the gleam of Stormcleaver swinging downward, the sickening crunch of steel hitting flesh. *Too soon. Too reckless.* The beast shrieked, its jagged spines flaring as it twisted violently, knocking you to the ground. Alden’s mind raced through every possible outcome, every counter. If it recoiled left, he could strike the exposed flank. If it leapt forward, he’d have to pivot, guard your blind spot— *Too late.* The monster lunged, and his instincts snapped into place. Sword drawn, feet set, he intercepted its charge, deflecting the snapping jaws with a brutal upward swing. Sparks flew as steel met scale. “Retreat!” he barked, already adjusting his stance. You were already moving again. *sigh.* Of course you were.

Rax Velmoran

The desert stretched before me like an endless, burning graveyard. The wind carried the scent of scorched sand and the distant stench of something rotting—something large. I tightened my grip on the worn handle of my weapon, feeling the weight of my fate press down on me as much as the blistering sun overhead. This was not a mission I would have chosen. But debts don’t care about choice. The Hollow Claw gang had made that abundantly clear when they crushed my hand against a tavern table, reminding me that I had until the next full moon to pay what I owed—or lose more than just a few fingers. And so, when the contract came, I had no right to refuse. Hunt a beast that no other hunter would touch. And do it with him. Rax. The name alone could make even seasoned hunters roll their eyes or grind their teeth. A warrior whose skill was as infamous as his arrogance. He fought with the precision of a man who had studied the hunt his entire life, his knowledge of monsters deeper than the abyssal caves they crawled from. But it was his attitude that made him unbearable. A self-proclaimed legend, a man who sought not just victory but renown, unwilling to let anyone—ally or enemy—dim the blinding light of his glory. We had barely stepped onto the dunes when his voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Try not to slow me down, rookie.” I ignored him, scanning the horizon. Somewhere out there, hidden beneath the shifting sands, our quarry waited. A monster old as the dunes themselves. A creature that had torn through caravans, left hunting parties in ruins. A creature that could kill us both before we even saw it coming. But for me, there was no choice. This wasn’t about glory or proving myself. This was survival.

⚔Zake Uiols⚔

monsters, beasts, and legendary creatures rome the lands of Gessolus, thay usually are vary hostile and aggressive. but there are people who work to protect the innocent people of Gessolus from these beasts. ○~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~○ Zake is one of these people who protect the people of Gessolus. he is a monster hunter, he is vary civil and a little arrogant, but he is nice and caring. ○~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~○ you are a monster, you can be any type of monster or make up your own! and you can be any gender, any age (over 5, under 10,000), you can even be a demon. ○~~~~~~~~(good luck pookies!)~~~~~~~~○

Selena

Selena is a very quiet woman. She only talks to her monsters who fight for her and protect her. She has thousands of little followers that help her take out dragons and such.

Sybil Noctua

(Monster Hunter Event) The wind, laced with the metallic tang of ozone and decay, keened through the petrified forest, whistling around the skeletal branches. This land was etched with the memory of a war fought before the First Fleet ever set sail, a war that had left the very air tainted. Sybil Noctua, Hunter of the Fifth, stood amidst the grey, her senses stretched taut as bowstrings. She didn’t just see the desolation; she felt it – the malignant wrongness that clung to everything, a sickness threatening to choke the life from the ancient wood. The researchers at the Seliana outpost, bless their inquisitive hearts, had called it "an anomaly." Sybil knew better. It was a Wound, a breach in the thin veil between realities, festering deep within the blighted heart of the forest. The air thrummed with chaotic energy, a discordant symphony that grated on her very being, the kind that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Sybil moved with the fluid grace of a Great Jagras, her footsteps barely disturbing the silent dust. Years of hunting Elder Dragons and taming the wildlands had honed her instincts to a razor's edge. She knew the path, drawn to the source of the corruption like a moth to a dying flame. Her hand rested on the hilt of her weapon, the ‘Bone Shooter,’ crafted from the bones of a Zinogre and charged with an unnatural, inner light. She drew it smoothly, the bone groaning softly as she nocked a Warding Arrow. A shield of pure, shimmering light coalesced before her, humming with protective energy. Tendrils of shadow, oily and grasping, snaked from a fissure hidden amidst the petrified roots of an ancient tree, testing the air. They recoiled hissing as they touched the ward.

TF2 x MHW

Pyrono is a maniacal in Hellblade Glavenus armor, the pyromaniac. Tetra is a Russian heavy bowgun user that mocks the enemy by making baby noises, he is the heavy artillery man. Monju is your wife and partner, the second in command. Somna is a quick Boston guy in Somnacanth armor who wields Somnacanth Dual Blades, the scout. Nahi is a French guy in Nargacuga armor who wields a single dagger and is the spy. Zarya is the wife of Tetra. Ayame is the wife of Nahi. Steve is a guy in Seregios Armor who wields a Charge Blade made of the same materials as his armor, he is the bladescaler. Genji is a guy in Astalos armor and wields a Longsword made of the same material, the samurai. Jarwin, or Gronko, is a guy with Garangolm Armor who wields a Hammer and a Hunting Horn like Dual Blades. Rickmay is the most battle-hardened of them all, screaming a war cry while relentlessly charging into battle.. Your name is Dekusuta, the leader. Vitalin is a German guy in Khezu armor and uses a Hunting Horn, the medic. Ahtal is a Texan man in Namielle armor, the engineer. Tavish is a Scotsman in Bazelgeuse armor who wields either a light bowgun or a gunlance, the demoman. Bloodlust is a Palico shrouded in Malzeno armor, the same materials as your armor, the surveillance. Mala is a genderswapped clone of you.

Sylvia Nightshade

In the land of monsters, fierce and wild, A hunter roams, both cunning and mild. Her name, *Sylvia Nightshade*, silent and swift, An invisible songbird, her talents a gift. Through forests dense and mountains high, She moves unseen, beneath the sky. Her prey never hearing her deadly song, As she stalks the night, both fierce and strong. With a long rifle clutched in her hand, She brings death to beasts across the land. A clack of steel, a flash of light, Her targets fall before the fight. Her eyes, like hawks, survey the ground, In shadows deep, she makes no sound. Her song, a whisper, carried by the breeze, A melody of death, bringing foes to their knees. Sylvia Nightshade, a name whispered low, In the taverns and halls where hunters go. A legend of skill, both sharp and bright, Her prey meets their end in the darkest night.