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Showing content with the highest reputation since 10/14/2019 in all areas

  1. 7 points
    The Alexandrian

    A Cure For What Aleth You

    For all her paranoia whenever and wherever the Enrele crop up, Caeceila's tactical expertise and unwholesome obsession with warfare, particularly her weakness for gambits and ignoble trickery that would compel the Witch King himself to take pause, continue to serve her well. Caeceila set the conditions of this encounter. By her command, drow technicians, under the cover of night, restored power to the Wyrm's Bane several days prior. It was her design that messengers of dubious loyalty and professionalism leak the time and location of this meeting to enemy forces. Caeceila baited the Enrele and played her part convincingly, luring as many of them into her kill zone as her ranting, raving, and the salient threat she posed could attract. She arrived in a draconic form armed to the teeth with a suite of cutting-edge weaponry to coax them out of hiding. From the onset, she challenged Hivemind Daloth, directly, at times. Her performance was magnificent, if she did say so herself, and in the end, she had her "undesired" confrontation with Hivemind Daloth. How they would rue the day they declined to parlay with Caeceila Glasmann: not that Caeceila ever intended to grant them quarter! This sea monster, what everyone else referred to as a Yuuja, had crashed Caeceila's party. Of the creature's identity, Caeceila was utterly oblivious. Whatever this sea monster is, it is a terrifying foe worthy of her respect, to be sure, and it is more than a little worrisome, Caeceila would opine, that it is, in all likelihood, capable of surviving in the waters of Genesaris and Renovatio since that implies Hivemind Daloth is well on its way to establishing a global presence. No matter. This Enrele-aligned beastie and those that must be advancing from the coast to cut off the party's retreat are destined, at the very least, to get intimate with a meat grinder, and Caeceila must content herself with that for now! Caeceila had, seemingly, abandoned the party to their own devices. Shooting the monster and blasting it with energetic crystals would, it goes without saying, draw the beast's aggro away from Caeceila, who wasted no time in racing toward the generator room. Unbeknownst to Caeceila, the party had already inflicted massive damage on the sea monster, which will impress her somewhere down the line; she figured they would deal light damage and fall back to the beach. She entered the generator room, a bulkhead slamming shut behind her, and did her part. She pressed herself against a gene-locked panel on a large, cylindrical tube coursing with mesmerizing light. Before Caeceila learned of the Enrele threat from the Symposium Against Doom, she spearheaded an effort to smother the Legion of Doom at its inception. She worked hand-in-hand with the Terrenus Military and provided some measure of air support during the Legion of Doom's Raid on Last Chance, dismantling several Legion of Doom members and the beasts they deployed to cover their retreat. In this engagement, she witnessed how effective the Terrenus Military's anti-psionic grenades and pulses were against Legion of Doom psychers and later gained access, by leveraging her position as a well-respected Terrenus Military Contractor and the heiress to House Glasmann and Glasmann Cryonics, to this technology. She had stockpiled such weapons in Hell's Gate on the off-chance the Legion of Doom ever encroached on Hell's Gate, intending to cripple Dredge by bombarding him with anti-psionic shells launched by House Glasmann artillery units showcased in her recent open house. Several of the wrecks in this relatively desolate section of Casper's shantytown had been fitted with anti-psionic ordinance by sneaky drow technicians flying Nines's banner days before. As Caeceila manually triggered this ordinance, any psychic in the area, including the Enrele, actively relying on psychic powers, like telepathy, would experience debilitating pain followed by the inability to use psychic abilities for a total of ten minutes. These invisible pulses would temporarily alter the flow of ambient magical energies in the area, yet this phenomenon imposes no disadvantage on other types of magic. Caeceila, who was never optimistic when it came to the Enrele, had saturated the area with such weaponry because she expected a full-scale army to turn up to silence Argi's task force. She had, therefore, also taken the precaution of designating this room as her safe room. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that important except that it contained the generator, anti-psionic ordinance, the trigger for her trap, and a few of her all-time favorite toy: two overcharged wands of flesh-to-stone and a sonic cannon. As Caeceila's Silver Eyes slotted these wands into the turrets mounted on her sides and affixed the sonic cannon to the end of her tail, completing her absolutely ludicrous ensemble, music blasted from speakers tucked away in wrecks across the beach. As Caeceila listened to that cover of Die, Die My Darling she, Nines, Cameila, and Iolanda had recorded during a team bonding exercise, she couldn't help but smile warmly. Nines did well with this little surprise!
  2. 7 points
    Note to everyone: I will be adjusting the Sanity table (released later) so that it’s easier to succeed, especially for Sanity 2 and down. We’re having trouble over at the Child’s Play thread to do anything at all. The current table still applies until the end of this round for both realms.
  3. 6 points
    garlictonic

    hello!! newb comin' through!

    hi! name's Garlic! This is really my first time on valucre but not my first time rping,, although I haven't rped in a long while so I'm rusty as hell! I like making up critters and taking badly timed naps. Nice to meet ya!
  4. 6 points
    Thotification

    A Cure For What Aleth You

    Well, excuse me, princess! If your domain is Predator's Keep, your domain is an open sewer. I surmise your Order is headquartered there because the land is especially cheap. I digress. If your celebrated Order could, as you claim, handle the Aleth hivemind then why, pray tell, haven't they? While we're at it, where in the world were you while your sister was rampaging through the countryside with Mister Bwahaha Iamevil Lookatme? "Oh, I was busy saving the world." Sure you were. Shishi could not help but frown at that. Clearly, there is no need for such unwarranted aggression but she figured this was the true face of the head of Hell's Gate. Quite unbecoming of a woman of her stature but who is she to judge? Unfortunately for this Glasmann woman, she barely hit anything right. "That is why I'm here. To determine the danger of this hivemind and if taking such action against these being would be within the Order's interests. That and bear in mind that I am just a lowly worker within the order and have no real authority unlike you. I guess you would know that seeing that you could say such words in front of a lower ranking member like me and not in the face of say, someone like James. But I guess I should be the better woman and let this one slide." Frowning, she mulled on her words and then turned her face away from Cae's. "I think you mistook my sister for my mother. She was never there during the raid at Last Chance nor was she part of the Legion. Maybe you meant the Lady Blackbush not the Mistre..." Her voice trailed away as she felt something else. Everything else seemed to fade out into background noise. Was it intuition or her natural sense for danger? Whatever it was, Shishi could sense something approaching. Something really big. What was it? She could not figure out. Was it friend or- Then it hit. Like a large whip-like appendage scything through the dilapidated ship. Her world seemed to rock and shake from the shock. She had to scramble for purchase, her need for self-preservation giving her the strength to move. The limb barely miss her and she was thankful for that. Her trials, however, was far from over. She would still need to survive. As the ship broke into two, she manage to right herself and gain purchase by propping herself on the nearby wall. Finally, she turned her attention to their assailant. A leviathan of the sea. A sea monster. A- "Yuuja," her sister spoke, Shishi had to shift her attention to the source of the voice. Sure enough, there was her older sister sitting sashaying on the side of the hall, a stick of cigar on her mouth treating their life-threatening predicament as if it was a walk in the park. "It seems that the stories are true. It is quite the majestic creature!" the woman continued, her voice filled with awe and amusement. "Any ideas?" Shishi cried as she tightened her hold. "Can't you take it out on your own?" The older sister laughed. "Are you serious? That's ridiculous! If this was Genisaris or Renovation perhaps. But not here, not in this land. I suggest we run away. Or fly away more like it. I doubt this beast could reach us in the sky" "What the hell? Then you're useless! I'm starting to regret bringing you here." Shrugging, the older sister inhaled a lungful of cigar smoke before she spoke. "I'm only here to ensure your safety. Not do stupid things like fighting bloody yuujas." "Safety my ass!" Shishi yelled while her body began to traverse the dangerous terrain. She needed a good spot to make her shot. Emile did a great job with cutting off one of the beast's limbs and she figured she should help too. "Look at the size of this thing! It's bloody huge! Well not that huge. I've seen bigger. No pun intended. There was this one time in Nehalen..." her sister's voice rang through the sea air. Stabilizing her posture, Shishi braced herself for her own attack. She needed to time this right making sure she did not miss her only chance. Even her sister's words were like background noise as she focused all the power in her chest and with a cry, a beam of magical light shot from that area head straight into another appendage, replicating Emile's actions earlier. "...where I fought a mountain! You had no idea how fun it was to have that huge ass mountain titan do a belly flop on me. After that came the upper cut which sent me flying way up high. Ah Good times....." the grating voice of her sister, still keeps on droning and droning. As the limb fell down, Shishi rolled away from where she was previously standing. She needed to keep moving. There's no telling when the beast might retaliate. Her senses were mostly returning now, much to her dismay. With her earlier concentration done, she could once more hear her sister's annoying voice. Perhaps it's best to just ignore the blasted woman and focus on keeping herself alive. ...the good old days. Have I ever told you that Ursa Madeum where I had to fight a volcano. A volcano out of all things! It was one of the weirdest things I have ever seen....." "Can't you just keep quiet for one goddamned minute?! I'm trying to survive here!" "Spoilsport. Killjoy. Party pooper. Wet blanket.... "...Oh dear! I think the beast is looking directly at me. Shishi, would be a dear and help me out here?" "Shishi?! Anyone?"
  5. 5 points
    Csl

    Grumble.crk

    Rozharon Paralios @EmpressOfficial • 2 hours Visited #Norkotia to finalize trading agreements (thanks @GrandExecutor!) Decided to try the local cuisine afterwards 🍔🥤 REPLY GRUMBLE LIKE SHARE plz note this tweet is not canon, not even soft canon lololol. though roz has definitely visited norkotia at some point to try out a burger.
  6. 5 points
    Dauner Light

    A Cure For What Aleth You

    Flying straight towards the Yuuja's chest, Dauner loaded his magic into his right sword causing statics to build up around his right hand the sword it held. When he was close enough to the Yuuja, he thrust his sword at the beast yelling, "Demon magnum". The tip of his sword hit the Yuuja's chest causing a blast as the force caused some extra damage to it's chest breaking off the piece of it's skin that had been hit. The Yuuja's body eventually bent backwards as it attempted to return into the deep. Argi fell into its mouth finding his way down into its stomach. Dauner then landed on the water as he kept his speed up until he reached the ground. Gozen followed him back to shore. Not too long after the Yuuja had gone deep, Dauner noticed its aura disappear. "Seems like it's dead now" he said to himself. Argi came swimming onto the ground shortly after that. There was a strange bird that seemed to have come with Argi and just like a few creatures that roamed Valucre, this one was strange. It could speak human language. Dauner walked towards it as it conversed with Argi, only managing to hear the final words they exchanged before the bird flew off. The bird later return with the others right behind it and arriving one at a time. Finally it seemed like it was time to set out for Dougton on their adventure to take down the enrele hivemind, Aleth. After Paul was done talking, Dauner clenched his fist in front of him with a grin on his face. "Ok. Let's go beat the enrals" he said raising his arm with his fist still clenched. "This is gonna be fun!"
  7. 5 points
    Die Shize

    The First Feast of Blades

    OOC Music The Iron Wolf Black holes where eyes should have been gazed out from a steel skull, two slits of darkness above a snout forever sealed, beneath pointed ears that never heard a beat. The helmet was a poor imitation of the real thing, truth be told, where what was real was bone and flesh and fur that breathed with life in a forest that teemed with it, but the symbolism was not lost on the beholder. Hands warmed by beating blood held the cold metal between them, and above them were amber eyes that gazed with longing to see. Man and wolf stared each other down, two heads that could become one in a moment, with one movement of slipping helmet around hair, but that moment was not to be. Not now. Not yet. For now, it was all Vadrian Dawnwood could do to see his soul reflected right back at him from the darkness of two holes where eyes should have been. The Wolfshelm was as much a helmet as it was an heirloom, carried through the generations of House Dawnwood, worn by the Iron Wolf, who today was the very man that cradled the helm in his lap at the edge of his bed. He had worn it a number of times before, gazing at himself in the mirror, trying to figure out if it were man or beast gazing back at him. He had worn it for ceremony, greeting the peoples of Tryhold as their patron animal that went far beyond mere motif. He had worn it for combat, leading the forces of House Dawnwood into battle against those of House Cardell. He would not wear it today, but it might yet still wear him. The Wolfshelm had been a gift from the Wolves of Wolfwood Forest all those years ago. The Goran had settled within the trees, those who walked on two legs to keep the four legs in check, and then came the men of the realm, House Talus, to threaten both Wolf and Goran. The Wolves could not leave their forest, their place there was too paramount, too important, and the Goran were not yet ready to venture much farther from the wood they watched. All too fitting, then, that the Knights of the Dawn had decided to defend the forest and its people from those bent on conquest. The Goran’s leader and the leader of the Dawn Knights met on the battlefield for the first time, yet it was not their blades that joined but their hearts. Myra Wood was her name, chief of the Goran and Warden of Wolfwood. Ser Lanias Dawn, Grand Master of the Order of the Dawn and Baronet of the Dawn's Keep, was his, but he thereby left his hold and settled in the lands that adjoined with Wolfwood Forest, and he and his people became the Dawnmen. Through the marriage of Myra and Lanias, the Goran and the Dawnmen formed a union, the new House Dawnwood was conceived, the seat of Dawnwatch built and the lands of Tryhold established. And all had lasted up to this day. As he sat there staring at empty sockets, Vadrian cracked a smile, recalling those words like his father had spoken them yesterday. The son had learned much of what he knew from the stories of the father, ones that were never just stories. As the Blade of the Dawn, Vadrian wielded Daybreak, the ancestral longsword of the Knights of the Dawn. Yet, he also held Wolfshelm, the ancestral helmet of House Dawnwood. With this helm in his hands, the Dawnwoods carried the spirit of the Wolves wherever they went, and when a Dawnwood wore this helm he became the wolf. The Iron Wolf. He had to be more than that, he knew. He also had to be the Earl of Tryhold, the Lord of Dawnwatch and the Seigneur of House Dawnwood. He had to serve as a regent of Orisia, the Island of Summer, with all the strength and honor that flowed through the veins of a Dawn Knight—or else his titles and names would mean little and less. With a deep sigh that settled some nerves, Vadrian let the reminiscing lead his mind to the mission. From the Feast of Blades, his father might recall the Blade of the Dawn soon enough, one would hope, and the Iron Wolf would in turn be brought to mind by consequence. Would it be enough? I know who I am, Father. Do you? Do you remember your position? Do you remember yorur people? Do you remember your place? Do you remember Orisia? Do you remember your words? ‘A New Dawn Rises’. So where have you fallen, Fendrin Dawnwood? The steel helmet in his hands was as still as stone as Vadrian shook his own head, remembering the last words that his father had given him: “The people of this island are bred and built for summer, for warmth and sun, for swimming in the lakes and toiling in the fields, as you were bred and built to be my son. But a father must take his leave like the leaves from the tree that holds them, and though this island and its people may know their summer like the sons they seeded, little do they know that soon the sun will set, that dawn will turn to dusk, and winter is coming.” The curtain rippled against the wind just then, a chill creeping in from the outside, sweeping over Vadrian’s shirtless body as he searched Wolfshelm for an answer. After the wind blows and the rain falls and the sky crackles, the dawn cracks and the sun rises, and what was once so dark a night becomes a new day as bright as a fire fed by wood. Vadrian rose from his bed, set the helmet upon the stand that held the rest of his armor, and paced over to the window, drawing the drapes. The day greeted him, a cool breeze tickling his face and hair. Predator’s Keep was a forest of wood and metal viewed from the Dawn Komturie that rose above. Farther off, the world was a silent mystery, horizons dangling from cloudy skies, as cold and distant as a father who had abandoned his son. Bring on your winter, my lord—and recall, if you do, the name of our island. With that, Vadrian closed the drapes and got dressed in attire that did not quite warrant a suit of armor. He slipped on a long-sleeved shirt of orange linen over gray trousers, pulled on boots of black leather and locked the door on his way out. The wolf within would wait, silent and still, while the man ventured throughout the keep of another predator to listen, to learn and to live.
  8. 5 points
    Others have already said it well but “overpowered” is indeed quite subjective. I’d say in general that a PC is OP if whatever they are doing upsets the roleplay equilibrium between what a PC can do to exercise power and what a PC should do to maintain uniform enjoyment for all parties involved. It is safe to assume that most acts of OP do not lead to group enjoyment. Maybe the summoned fire tsunami engulfs too many cities in a split second or the PC never makes a single mistake; a variety of OP scenarios generally make things less interesting for anyone who isn’t the OP PC’s RPer grinning behind their monitor. But ‘subjective’ sounds like a pretty key term because I don’t think that powers themselves are necessarily OP so much as how they are used. If your character is a god who in your own special realm outside of Valucre can burn stars into nonexistence by blinking then power to you, but as long as those abilities are intensely nerfed on Valucre then fair weather friend.
  9. 4 points
    Slowly becoming wary this is how the thread is gonna end:
  10. 4 points
    @Michael Bloodfang I would like to point out that it’s a no-rules RP, so the villains are allowed to be OP too. It doesn’t only have to be PCs that are OP. But although allowed is the word, we’re embarking on a shared narrative. I can see where you’re coming from, and why you’d feel like your actions didn’t do anything.. But I would suggest that you keep an open mind, accept the other players’ actions and look for more possibilities to play around in the story - like a creative writing exercise. And I would like to remind that you are also allowed to control Henry, or any of the NPCs. We haven’t had any issues till now, and I would hate to see this fun RP be locked into unnecessary conflict. It’s good that we know your sentiments now @Michael Bloodfang, and we kinda sorta know @zackrobbman‘s ideas. Would like to remind everyone that since it’s a shared narrative, the story direction will keep changing, please don’t be upset if you have to adapt your plans to the ongoing narrative. If you find that it’s not something you like, then this RP may not be for you. That’s not to say that you’re bad or anything, it’s just that this may not be your cup of tea. There are plenty of other areas on Val where there are more structured/planned out stories, and this thread is a break from that. Also, light-hearted! If everyone is on the same understanding to that, then onwards we forgeeeeeee!
  11. 4 points
    Not entirely apropos of nothing, I'm peeking my head back into Valucre for a short time to offer up this AMA for folks who are interested in writing or publishing -- whether you've considered pursuing the idea seriously or just find yourself curious about the inner workings. @supernal and I have talked about the topic on occasion, but with the publication of my most recent credit in this anthology I wanted to give people the opportunity to ask questions about writing as a profession and the attendant ups, downs, and quandaries of publishing. Which is an awkward segue into the question: why ask me when you can probably find answers from writers who are household names on Youtube, or Reddit? The answer is because I'm not one of those famous authors. I'm published as a professional (per SFWA standards) and I've won an award (Writers of the Future), but I'm still in the nascent stages of my career. The period that a lot of authors reminisce about is still part of my immediate frame of reference. Besides that, having come into the field much more recently, I'm much more aware of the ongoing changes in the publishing industry regarding things like independent/self-publishing versus traditional. Authors who have been established for ten or fifteen years predate the self-publishing explosion that came with Amazon's Kindle store and many of them have little interest in the most recent social media platforms (Twitch, Youtube, the gram). I'm also one of the only authors I know to transition from freeform roleplay to professional publication, so I know very well the strengths and weaknesses that freeform roleplay gives to a writer. In as short a biography as possible: I started roleplaying in 2006 and stopped in 2012, returned in 2015 and went on break again in 2017. I started writing with the goal of making it my career in 2014 after earning a history degree in 2013. I won Writers of the Future in 2017 and made my second pro-rate sale in 2019. I've written five novels (and going on six), so give or take one a year. I've written maybe two dozen short stories, which explains why I only have two credits with that medium: award or no, I don't write much short fiction. I've shared tables of contents with Brandon Sanderson*, Jim Butcher, Larry Niven, Tim Powers, Kevin J. Anderson, and others; I've also had the chance to talk directly with a lot of these authors (and more besides) about their own processes and approaches. I'm going to try and make regular checks on the site from now until Sunday and answer any/all questions I can. I might try to stretch my time a bit longer than that, but right now I'm somewhere between 3/5ths and 2/3rds into the rough draft of a novel, so after that I'll have to crawl back into the word-mines and get to work again. I'll try to answer every question; my only request is that you don't ask for critiques. At some point in the future I might offer to do critiques or beta-reads, but I don't have the time to do so now and it wouldn't be fair to anyone who asked. This AMA is "1.0" because I hope to have more iterations -- 2.0, 3.0, 4.0, and so on -- as I have more of my work published and claw and climb my way into something resembling a writing career. With a little luck, each successive AMA can chart the path I've taken into and through the industry for the community's edification. Ideally, it'll end with X.0, wherein I retire as a strange and reclusive hermit. (*Just because I have the image on hand: here's a picture of Brandon Sanderson getting my autograph at the Writers of the Future award ceremony. I'm inordinately proud of having that picture, even if I had to let someone dress my hair and knot a tie around my neck for it.)
  12. 3 points
    Yes! The final round! Commence fictional child abuse! Time to slap some naughty kids...
  13. 3 points
    Dauner Light

    A Cure For What Aleth You

    Paul's reaction was a clear indication at that Dauner had made a big mistake in his pronunciation mainly attributed to his inattentiveness which would be the reason why he doesn't really know how to pronounce 'Enrele'. The description that followed had Dauner's eyes turn to the shape of meat pies as he began drooling uncontrollably. "Say you wouldn't know where i can find some Enrals would you?" he asked the bird just before getting smacked on the back of his head by Gozen. "I know where this is going and to that i say no" "C'mon Gozen. Just a little meat pie for the road" Dauner pleaded. "If only it would end at just a little meat pie. I know you better than that and i'm not falling for that" "Even if they have great sweets too?". At this Gozen's tough act began to melt away, try as he may to hide it. "Just think of all the sweets they may have" Dauner whispered into Gozen's ear trying to tempt him into joining him. "The tenderness, sweetness. Imagine it melting in your mouth. The divine taste, that sensation of pure bliss". Gozen could no longer hold himself. Dauner's seduction strategy was once again a success. Both of them turned to Paul and asked in unison, "Where can we find the Enrals". After arriving at the halfway point where they got off Myuil, Dauner and Gozen both got off still looking gloom from not having been able to get to the Enrals. After Argi had gone to go clean himself up, Dauner tried getting to his feet only to be stopped by Aya. "Don't worry about that part" Gozen said lifting his hand to his chest level where everyone could clearly see. There was a cuff on it attached to a long chain with the other cuff on Dauner's hand. "Already took care of it" He finished. "Hey you two. This is a violation of my rights" Dauner complained. That was when he noticed something a strange presence deeper in the forest. He immediately pounced in that direction with a speed that left a gust of wind blowing for a while. Gozen who's hand was attached to the other end of the chain was pulled along the ground in Dauner's dash. A while later at about the same time Argi returned, Dauner and Gozen arrived at the camp. "Still, what the heck was that strange bird" Dauner questioned. He was carrying a wild boar across his neck from behind while Gozen was mostly covered in bruises. "Don't you ever pull me away like that again" "I didn't pull you away. You came running after me" Dauner said with a smirk. Before Gozen could say anything else, Dauner ran over to the others. "Guys, I brought back dinner". He put the boar down and left all the rest to those in the group who could pass off as their culinary experts such as Aya. After Aya made her comment about Cae being elegant in her non-human form, Dauner stared at her weirdly. "Do you need glasses?" he asked with his head tilted 45 degrees to the right. "You don't really need to be quite skilled in combat you know" Dauner responded to her last comment. "Not when you've got someone like Gozen around to protect you". "Why me?" Gozen asked with an indifferent look on his face. Dauner looked at Gozen with face that said 'Are you forgetting something'. Gozen then remembered why Dauner couldn't be left to protect pretty girls. "Ok then. If you don't want to, I'll-*smack*". He was cut off by Gozen who smacked him while yelling "Not on your life". "I think in the end, i might be the one who really needs to be protected here" Dauner commented.
  14. 3 points
    Die Shize

    A dollar for your sword

    OOC Music [Recurring] CRACK! “NOOO MY STICK OF TRUTH!” She screamed in horror like in one of those horror films where the murder-man kills the girl’s boyfriend in front of her eyes by gouging his eyes out with a toothpick before cutting his head off with a toothbrush. Well, the gooze had done something not entirely too dissimilar when it grabbed a hold of her own half of a toothpick and broke it in half so that it became a quarter of a toothpick and toothpick. “WHYYYYYYYYY” She received no answer, not from the gooze or the Fates or the two men who were too busy dancing in the air or waddling on the ground to worry about her stick of truth. One of them, for sure, had even since stolen her sword, so that kind of said something about the kind of people that she kept company with and weren’t no mistake. Of which, that man was no longer airborne but had decided to go for a swim, and her observer could only ogle in horror as she spotted her sword float and sink like in one of those Doby-Mick films about the oversized dolphin and the harpoon that pierced its belly and brought Doby-Mick into the water all wiggly-wiggly. Still my chap a silver ticket of a film if ever I saw one old boy I do so say OH MY GOSH She couldn’t complete the thought, a thousand walnuts of worries plaguing her brain as the gooctopus’ tentacle sprang forth toward the sick man to slap some sense into his sluggish form. Well, it might have done him some good, alongside some much needed oatmeal to settle his stomach, but the dismay lay in the gooze’s own gooey brain as it received the sensations of acid eating away at its...gooze? The woman clapped her hands in glee. She didn’t know these pools, hadn’t bathed in them, didn’t see a lifeguard, packed no bikini, but it was evident that where that tentacle had splashed it had in turn splattered itself with the kind of liquid that would make a perfect prop for a horror movie. The sick man, meanwhile, appeared to be loading his crossbow with these-and-those and things in between. Suddenly, it all clicked! just like her stick of truth had cracked! That man was coating his bolts in the acid. The other man was...swimming or something but otherwise doing something useful. The crossbowman was on the other side from where the woman was standing, still a prime target for the gooctopus, and there that woman was, without sword and without stick. So, she resolved to do the only thing that she knew to do in this situation. Her phallic counterparts seemed to have more knowledge about their enemy and their environment than she did, and both of them were armed with crossbow and stolen sword where all she had was a makeshift lamp slung over her shoulder. Aghhhhh gaga-pa-dooda-gup “FUGGABUH!” She exclaimed toward the gooze. If it had ears then “had” was the keyword because clearly they had long since melted away. So, she tightened one boot and pulled a knife from the other, brandishing its twinkling point toward the gooze. “YOU’RE JUST A BIG FAT GOOZER-MOOZER WITH SLUDGE FOR BRAINS AND I WANT A REFUND!” With that, the woman dashed toward the very edge of the pool and lunged. A blindly flailing tentacle was moved away just in time. She stabbed again. Another miss. KAI-AY-PA! This sucked. Stabby-stabby-stabby— “FUMOFFU!” She sliced the air and a tentacle swinging within it. The gooctopus shuddered. At last, its attacker had attention, for however long it might last. It shifted through its gooey water, shooting a tentacle for her face. She dodged. Another for her leg. She skipped. The third punched her stomach and she “Oof!”d before falling backwards. All in all, though, the distraction might have been all the time that the crossbowman would need to load his weapon of acidic destruction and for his best friend to do...whatever he was doing all this time. As for the woman, well, she was beginning to regret the squid that she had for elevenses. Fumoffu...
  15. 3 points
    P.N.See

    Child's Play [Nightmare Descends] OOC

    Let's see... Mother's HP is 6, 1 dmg goes from Challara, 2 dmg from Barristan, 3 dmg from Mistress... Ladies and gentlemen... We got her.
  16. 3 points
    garlictonic

    Drainage man

    𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 First name: Starts with a D... Surname: Starts with a T... Monicker(s): The Man in The Drains, Drainage man, Drainy, Drain Race/ species: Clump of moist hair possessed by a vengeful spirit Gender: Male. Age: Unknown but has been haunting drains for at least four years. Occupation: None. Alignment: Chaotic neutral 𝑨 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒐𝒐𝒌 Appearance/ physiology: Drainy’s physical body is primarily comprised of wet matted hair held together into a roughly humanoid shape by that special gunk you find in shower drains, trace remains of blood, and ectoplasmic matter. On the front of what passes as his head is a pale, hole-ridden plate resembling a shower drain cover. This plate is made entirely of flexible ectoplasm and can be bent and squished as Drainy squeezes through narrow spaces. Every single hole of this plate serves as eyeholes, unblinking but twinkling with an odd vigor. Loose strands of hair fall over and cling to their face plate. The number of digits on his extremities vary but usually number at 2-3 for convenience. The thicker the strand, the easier it is to control. However, too many different appendages is, of course, confusing to consciously control for a ghost that can barely remember their own name. Through the hair, one may spot flashes of red - the dried blood of a dying man which forms the “heart” of this being. Typical Attire: Often naked, but will don a dirty oversized raincoat and black rain boots filled with water when traversing outside of the drainage system. 𝘼𝙨 𝘼 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 Personality: Although Drainy was born from a thirst for vengeance, he does not remember who (or what) caused his death aside from the fact that he died cursing powers above. All he recalls of his life are his initials (D.T), the fact that he was a dude, and vague recollections of various moments spent with faceless friends and family. As such, all the bitterness and hatred that holds together this spirit ends up being directed at ...anything. He is simply an angry little mess. Distrust and skepticism, especially towards religious organisations, dominates his disposition towards others. Drainy does not make friends. Doesn’t matter that maybe he might want a few… but he would never admit that! Never! Drainy believes in divine powers, gods and demons, and he will try to pick fights with them if possible. Not a wise choice, but then again he literally does not have a brain. When given something to be angry towards, reasonable or otherwise, he loses whatever common sense he has and tends to act brashly. That and his pettiness knows no bounds. When calm, however, he does appear to have some sense of strategy and often plans out his haunts beforehand. Despite his openness in expressing anger, Drainy has difficulty expressing other emotions. To show sadness or remorse is to show weakness, or so he believes. And thus Drainy bottles up all his emotions into a molotov cocktail of feelings that he throws when provoked. Of course, that's not exactly his kneejerk reaction to all other beings dead or alive. He has a soft spot for bugs and smaller critters. Likes: Dark, narrow spaces. Bugs. Piano music. Dislikes: Blinding light. Dry spaces. High temperatures. If you pee in the shower, he will personally strangle you to death. Abilities: Flexible and able to squeeze through tight spaces. Able to form additional prehensile appendages of hair. Already dead and thus cannot be killed, only exorcised. Can reform out of any wet clump of hair. Crawls and slides very fast. Weaknesses: Easily flustered by nudity (which sucks when one haunts bathroom drains). Weak kicks and punches. Clumsy feet. Stench can easily be detected from 2 metres away. Flammable. Overly rash at times History: — to be added — Current goal: To find who or what killed him as well as to fulfill whatever new grudges ends up holding along the way. 𝑷𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 Equipment: A plastic knife and fury. Inventory: Indefinite number of cockroaches that live inside him. Chunks of mould.
  17. 3 points
  18. 3 points
    Csl

    General chat thread

    I just want to briefly fangirl over this like omg I have so much love for work that feature people who aren't the usual RP adventurer/warrior/noble/powerful protagonists. This article features something of an IC reference to the Fracture name change, weaves together everything that's been happening in Terrenus (territories seceding, symposium against doom, victory) and also includes very relevant modern-ish plot elements like government conspiracies, fake news/misinformation, framing a "good" event/policy as something malicious. Terran cities vs terran cities? Regionalism? I stan so hard. Going to stalk everything this news article references now brb
  19. 3 points
    Csl

    hello!! newb comin' through!

    HELLO GARLIC =D Garlic is an old friend of mine. She's also a great artist and is fantastic with designing lovely creatures. Be nice and say hi!
  20. 3 points
    Twitterpated

    The First Feast of Blades

    The irascible Meta found himself frustrated with his inability to formally finish the first round. He wasn't mad about having had a formidable opponent, only that they were incapable of finishing one another in a timely manner. As he was tended to by the healers only, he was already puffing on one of those Lho sticks. With a reassuring drag he exhaled the azure tinted smoke. slowly but surely the euphoric sensations began to creep back into his mind, body, and spirit. Suppressing his true nature for however limited a time as it could before he'd be caught smoking another. Unless he found a situation that not even being high could keep him from becoming angry over. Once the healer's finished mending his cut and stab wounds, Bishop returned his morning star to his utility belt and replaced the belt around his waist respectively. Packing his full arsenal once more, he almost wished a mufukka would just so he could flex and show these people what they couldn't see in the formal rounds of the Trueblades event; Unless he opted to break the rules which would earn him nothing more than a swift disqualification. Pacing out among the crowds once more in the cooling air of the eve, Bishop remained topless. He'd eat more first, then perhaps find him a broad or two to keep him company until the start of the next round.
  21. 3 points
    Just caught up to Meraxa’s post Brace for <you’ll see>
  22. 3 points
    Die Shize

    Silver Ticket Calling

    Agamus diverted his gaze to the black pool in his cup as he held the mug to his chest between sips. Lexicus’ tongue had maintained the twists and turns that one would expect if this table they both sat at were indeed a conference table and this tavern were a board room. It was difficult to deduce whether the merchant man was genuinely pleased by and interested in anything that Agamus had told him, and if the wind that the latter supposedly bore was really just the smoke being blown his way and up his rear end. Eyes might have revealed the truth, but he didn’t want to spare his so much as let his ears do the deciphering. Sellsword. Soldier. Scout. Slayer. I’m running out of S-words. Just then, the tavern’s door swung open as wind that was anything but metaphorical rushed in, causing nearby chairs to wobble and cups and plates to fall from a tabletop and shatter on the floor. Agamus watched the elderly couple of fellow patrons as they moaned and frowned at this terrible turn of events, their breakfast given to the floorboards. The culprit of this mess was a black lizard something the size of a tiger, one that clung to the ceiling and had a tongue that rivaled any CEO’s. ‘This one’, it speaks as it refers to itself. Great. Not another one. As Lexicus went about responding to his visitor, and no doubt the tavern’s staff went about reacting to the very real situation of a creature barging in and knocking things over unannounced and such, another creature came in behind the first. A ‘creature’ based on the brilliance of her obesity, if nothing else. This one also had four limbs, two of which were walked on like any normal person and a third that held out a flyer. Apparently this action was some sort of standard operating procedure. Agamus had only shown his to assure himself that breakfast was indeed complementary. Speaking of… It wasn’t quite time yet but soon enough he would be treated to a breakfast of his own that would have utterly no place on the floor. For now, he topped off his cup and slurped loudly, if only to add to the foolery of the situation. Well, guess these two are going to be my partners in crime. Or is it partners in crime-fighting? Their fearless leader had addressed some questions to Agamus that went unanswered and Agamus kept it that way for now. There were two other voices that needed attention and a third one would just further confuse the confusion.
  23. 3 points
    Lore Blurb: In the depths of the Dawn Komturie, James Eredas and several engineers, Custodes Militants, and scientists oversaw the development and testing of various weapons systems both existing and new. The variety of enemies the Order Of Force Majeure were called upon to answer to and the variety of their forces called for many specialized developments. The magical and supernatural had many advantages over the mundane and conventional, and whilst Knights were usually the ones to deal with the most fantastic threats, Custodes of all types had to be able to hold their own, or at least survive in the face of them. Now, the Order of Force Majeure were developing three other new lines of weapon systems concurrently. Codenamed in development with the names of three of the Major Arcana of esoteric tarot, the first weapon was: The Hermit: A powerful pistol that fires 12-gauge shotgun shells. Built as the pinnacle of personal defense weaponry, the standard Hermit comes as a double-barreled pistol that is loadable with up to four shotgun shells, two in each rifled barrel. Somewhat larger and bulky then many other pistols due to its construction, and the need for recoil compensators, nevertheless the pistol is ideally to be fired with both hands, and only by individuals of enhanced strength, or wearing strength-enhancing wargear such as power armor due to the severe recoil. The design is to be used against and be capable of stopping the likes of even a dire bear in its tracks, and its primary disadvantages are its low number of available shots, and short effective range, which can be somewhat extended with sabot slug ammunition.
  24. 3 points
    Fennis Ursai

    Silver Ticket Calling

    Lexicus sat and listened to Agamus order. 'He chose to order from his seat instead of go and order. Good the man is a free thinker, that's a good quality to have around. He knows what he's looking for as well. Possibly from experience. Though it could be a sign of laziness, but after all he is here and willing to sign up for some work.' Lexicus eyed the waitress, taking in the locals and if there was any customs he'd missed. Manners of speaking and all of that. After all, the place wasn't his home but he was starting to make it feel like it. He needed someone to help him learn the land as well as the people, more than anything. Regaining magical strength and having a solid footing were highly important at this step of expanding the company. It was after Agamus spoke again did gravity set in and the 'real' man giving the offer stepped in. Lexicus gave a smirk that turned into a smile before answering the question presented to him. "An astute question. I will not be coy with you since you bare wisdom enough to ask a question such as that. As with most outfits, our company offers competitive salary, we do not think it fair to offer our workers anything less than what they are valued at. You seem like you are more interested in 'what do I gain' from working at Silver Ticket, the thing that sells over folks. A web of connects. I understand that does not sound very useful to some people, as they only care about money or a name and nothing more. However, the Silver Ticket has a vast majority of connections with various people from all walks of life, including a retired assassin turned alchemist, old druids, shamans, a highly versed transportation mage to name a few. We count many smiths in our ranks as well as various merchants and even a few former crime bosses. The pool of connections the company possess is our greatest asset." Lexicus stopped for the moment letting the answer sit before he would decide whether to continue or to answer any questions that would follow. The pale ale in front of the blonde merchant came sliding over than pouring down his throat for a light sip. It became a hard game of 'how much do I lead on now and how much do I lead on later'. Loyalty was a big factor in this game and so far, nothing was on the table to be lost on either side other than time.
  25. 3 points
    The Silver Ticket Company is Hiring Talent That's right, if you have experience in escort duty, body guard services, mercenary work, or are looking for a good place to start, apply today. Non-combative oriented? No Problem, the Silver Ticket Company is also looking to staff it facilities with cooks, maids/servants, recruiters, laborers, crafters, and plenty of other opportunities for those less inclined to spill blood. Though we are mostly taking in hired combat talent, we are also looking for individuals looking to join in on a large business opportunity to become a part of a network of services and goods. Requirements: Must be willing to learn Must be willing to work Will teach new combatants if need be but will pay more for combat experienced talent. Benefits: Complementary Breakfasts Competitive Wages Access to the Facility itself Free usage of the Company's Training Programs and Mentor-ship Regular Hours/ Self Set hours for Combat Hands Link to the RP Hello dere lads and lassies o/ So I'm looking to recruit some characters into a company that has it's hands in many business practices that is just beginning to get it's foot in Valucre. As for 'WHO' I'm looking for in terms of writers, I'm looking for anyone who is willing to involve themselves in an expanding company that has a lot more going for it than it leads on. As for 'WHAT' you will be doing, I am looking for writers to have characters (New and inexperienced to Older characters) preform various jobs/tasks/missions to increase the name of the company as well as to help flesh out the facility and help it expand and grow it's Valucre branch. I am looking to keep posts at one per week pace at it's latest (Meaning I want at least 1 post per week or you might be skipped in turn order). If you can't keep a 1/week schedule I can work with you. This 'ONLY APPLIES' for most mission settings and or important events. I want to gather a few people before I launch the thread so if you are interested please respond down below or PM me. I will answer any questions you may have regarding this thread. If you are new to RP or inexperienced I am looking forwards to RPing with you. Please do not feel shy or afraid to post in this thread, it is open to anyone of varying experience.
  26. 3 points
    HollowCipher

    Bloodsport OOC

    Blocking Screech does not count as an action, as all you'd be doing is like, covering your ears or something. If covering your ears takes an action, that's stupid. I did not think of dodging double shot... Thing is, if he aimed and both were going to hit, and you dodged the FIRST one, then you would have dodged the second one too, I would think.
  27. 3 points
    Csl

    Csl's Art Box

    Another commission by @Thotification I had fun drawing the skirt frills and adjusting for backlighting for the sword 😄 ~5 hours total
  28. 3 points
    @folie a deux If you mean how do I handle rejections from submission attempts, I can't say -- I haven't had a rejection yet, mostly for lack of submissions as opposed to some talent on my part. I won Writers of the Future on my first submission and that award was what got me an invitation from the editors of Parallel Worlds to put a story into their anthology, so there was no submission process there. Although I've written five novels, the first two were practice. The third and its sequel (the fourth) are probably publishable but I chose to trunk them because some of the issues explored in the books would be better suited if I adapted them to another story. The fifth was an experiment in trying a particular subgenre and I had mixed feelings about the results. My sixth novel is probably going to be the first I send out. That's not as uncommon as it might seem; a lot of authors will write several novels before feeling comfortable with sending their stuff out. Even those who start submitting to agents with their first effort often have to write several novels before selling one. Off the top of my head, Stephen King wrote three or four prior to selling Carrie. Jim Butcher wrote somewhere between two and four. Brandon Sanderson wrote around a dozen novels before selling one, and his first five novels were practice runs that he used to teach himself the craft. A lot of times, we trap ourselves with this idea that we have to walk into this artistic pursuit and hit the ground running, but that's almost never what happens, unless your name is Samuel R. Delaney. Even Isaac Asimov received several rejections before he sold anything worth scratch. That being said, this question does let me delve into an adjacent topic: submission rejection. It's worth noting that, while there might be issues in a manuscript in need of fixing, or a writer's talent is just short of the mark for professional publication, you can never take rejections personally. There's so many factors beyond just the manuscript's quality that it's really out of our hands. I'll list a few, to illustrate: -What does the agent like? Does this book fit into the wheelhouse of what they sell? Do they feel confident representing it? -Does the agent have any books similar in theme, subject matter, or tone already on their desk for consideration? -Has the agent sold a similar book recently? -Does the agent feel that there's a market for the book, whether or not they love it? If you write a vampire book, does the agent think that there's been a dearth of vampire books and so it won't be popular? Or maybe there's been a dearth and that means there's a niche to fill? Has there been an explosion of vampire novels, so it might be a good purchase, or has there been an explosion of vampire novels and, no, maybe the market is too saturated? You can apply these reasons to an editor's decision-making too, when it comes to the purchasing of the rights. What's important to realize is that, while the editors and agents are following the market, they can't really gauge it any better than you or I. They don't have an inside track to what's going to be the big hit or else they'd be engineering bestsellers like clockwork. It's a mixture of experience, professional knowledge, guesswork, and gut feeling. If we're fumbling around in the dark for a book that will sell then agents and editors are navigating by a guttering candle. So, for my rejection process, and for rejection in general, one key thing I take away from it is that it's never personal. I know when I send off that email that there are any number of factors beyond my control that will influence the agent in question. All I can do is write the best book possible, the book that I want to write, and lead with my best foot forward. As for what keeps me going, the most honest answer is twofold. First is that I love writing and I'll write whether or not I'm successful. The second is that failure is a learning tool. If I know why something I wrote didn't work, then I can fix it, or improve the weakness for next time. I'm also adversarial to a fault, so my reflexive response to failure is to work harder. The archetypal example of my attitude is Henry Rollins in this video, Failure doesn't stifle my motivation, it fuels my efforts. I don't know if that can be taught or if it's just the way my psyche is put together. To me, failure is best perceived as a whetstone: we sharpen ourselves on it only through repeated, persistent effort. For further reading, here's Sanderson's own essay detailing his pre-published efforts as an author.
  29. 3 points
    What do you think I have been doing? 😂 I've just never sustained enough damage for any of the named people to start dying yet! Haha. I literally had all but two of the squad get killed in the first thread, and it would have been all but one if it weren't for Charlie accidentally saving the life of a man he keeps wanting to kill. 😆
  30. 3 points
    danzilla3

    From Ashes (Viridis)

    Rufus had not in fact spoken since they had departed that morning; but he said nothing to reproach the Jester. He still couldn't quite remember how she had come to be a part of his family. Until recently he had spent much of his time in a haze of inebriation. Still, she had taken the name and followed him. Given how much their numbers had dwindled in recent years, they needed everyone they could get. Kai was a more complicated situation. His attitude was beginning to get on Rufus' nerves; a couple of times making him consider taking the young man aside and reminding him why he was the leader of the house. But he did understand why his cousin was upset. They had pulled him away from his life to put him in a position he had never asked for. Since the same thing had happened to Rufus when his father had made him Head, the frustration the kid was feeling was all to familiar. "Is everything alright father?" A young woman, fourteen years old rode next to Rufus. Her name was Susan, an orphan he had recruited to fulfill the requirements of an ancient law requiring him to have an heir. They had only known each other a few weeks, but they grew closer every day. "Everything's fine." he replied, patting her on the shoulder gently. From up ahead, Rufus saw someone he had never expected to run into all the way out here. "Looks like you need that stuff more than we do. What are you doing all the way out here?"
  31. 3 points
    Mickey Flash

    Realm Events

    I don’t know if this idea is now all Star Wars, but I was still laughing over the adults turning kids. Lol. I created a thread or two where the characters switched bodies with each other. Same personality, different powers/gender/species, and not having a clue how to use the new body’s powers. That was pretty fun. Put a bunch of RPers names in a hat and drew out the pairs that were switching.
  32. 3 points
    Dresdnd

    Golden Reaper [CLOSED]

    While standing in the corner searching for his target he couldnt help but botice the kids amongst the crowd. Pickpockets obviously, he chuckled to himself. Majority of the people here wouldnt miss anything they lost to the hands of the children. They were just trying to survive. He flicked some coin to a passing child who nabbed it and look up at him, wendin just smiled and nodded off to the side. The child taking the hint quickly scurried off back into the crowd "no sign of the target" the voice spoke "perhaps we were sold out or he was tipped off" wending thought on this for a moment "Na, hell show, charismatic little shit like that wouldnt possibly miss an event like this" As if on cue an extravagantly dressed dwarf entered the tent reeking of powerful cologne and whiskey. Sitting near the side of the tent he almost immediately began bidding, throwing out some large numbers and getting more than one persons attention. He was all smiles and laughs, buying drinks for those around him and holding conversations between items Wendin smirked , he had a scar on his left cheek "Gotcha" "hmmph, well we found him, best wait untill hes alone or goes to collect his items after the auction to take him down" "For once" he muttered to himself "you and i agree"
  33. 3 points
    We've all seen the elite spies, the ones who dress in nice suits, seduce targets into giving up information while driving luxury vehicles that do the opposite of blend in. We've all seen the special forces operators. The guys who eat lightning and crap also lightning; who have access to all the best toys and weapons. Those guys are cool, but they aren't what we're about. Aphelion is a Hyperian black ops outfit more akin to Suicide Squad than James Bond (not the movie). Members are all criminals, mercenaries, assassins; the kind of people that are traditionally not considered good members of society. They work in total secrecy, unknown to even the Empress herself. Their one and only objective is to protect the Empire and her interests at all costs. But most importantly, we want YOU to help with more than just the dirty work itself. We want you to suggest targets, equipment upgrades and gadgets, and more! If you have a character you think would be a good fit, please comment below! https://www.valucre.com/topic/43358-aphelion/
  34. 3 points
    The Thunder Tyrant

    Writing and Publishing AMA 1.0

    @Vansin I use a "launchpad" approach to prewriting. I'll world-build, character sketch, and outline until I feel like I have a sufficient mass of material, and then I start writing whether or not my outline is complete. If it is, great; if it isn't, I'll work off of what I have from that foundation and then complete the outline when the shape of the story reveals itself to me. My "complete" outlines are basically bullet-lists of scenes: a couple of sentences to describe each scene/story beat and nothing else. I can't quantify "sufficient mass" except that I know it when it happens because I'll lose interest in things like world-building and start thinking more about how I want to shape my prose. For short stories, I'll sketch an outline just to have my thoughts on paper and then go from there. I do all of my prewriting work in notebooks, even if I draft on a computer. It lets me write while at work and I tend to do a lot of visualization work (circling, line drawing, marginalia, etc). I've tried testing some of the prewriting methods other authors suggest -- like Ingermahson's snowflake approach -- but they never offer as much as working through my thoughts and ideas and letting the story take shape naturally. They might be more beneficial to writers who want to outline methodically, though, so I don't discount them.
  35. 2 points
    EpicRome23

    Grumble.crk

    Shadow King Neque @UmbraRegem • 10 seconds ago Replying to @LenoreParalios Friends are very valuable indeed. Would definitely be interested in further correspondence. Am ready to discuss prevalent details at your earliest convenience. REPLY GRUMBLE LIKE SHARE
  36. 2 points
    The Alexandrian

    Pereat Mundus OOC

    The day after the Dougton raid, regardless of the outcome. I do not believe Caeceila will be captured/killed in that thread due to her mastery of the ultimate technique, and I suspect the same is true of most, if not all, of the characters involved.
  37. 2 points
    squid peanut

    Silver Ticket Calling

    Jaw Finder sat at the table, over hearing the soft bodies talk back and forth about nothing important, at least as far as Jaw Finder was concerned. This amount of thinking and noise making about something that is so simple otherwise wouldn't go anywhere except for these nests and colonies that soft bodies build where everything grinds to a halt from constant pointlessness. eventually food came, alongside some that came for the green chested soft body. Jaw Finder knew that soft bodies heated things to make food soft like they are, which was just sad, but gave unique scents to taste. Jaw Finder's tongue was taking the opportunity to taste the smells of the breakfast, extended and hovering over the food and then quickly wrapping around the trout. The whole fish then shot into Jaw Finder's mouth and was tasted and eaten in a matter of seconds. The rest of the meal did not fare better as Jaw Finder pretty much inhaled each and every part of the meal as the soft bodies around them went on about semantics. How ever, despite how quickly jaw Finder was eating, there was remarkably little mess as things were just going quickly from table to mouth. "soft bodies following of 'ideals' unnecessary burden. action with instinct and survival yields greater efficiency. unlike Soft bodies, I does not need to be given 'ideals' only understanding of the identification of 'evils'" Jaw Finder snatched a fly out of the air with their tongue.
  38. 2 points
    Needless to say, Vlad was a bit flattered by a gratitude shown by the young woman - and was pleased to see her slightly "enhance" his weapon. At the same time, however, he was ashamed that Murray, the man who dragged out the four-legged menace first, had been left without his finest hour. Now that was just unfair. "It's just... I'm happy to help." - Vlad spoke then pointed at Jack. - "But that couldn't have happened if he didn't provoke it. He too deserves some appreciation." Then he turned to Jack who did not seem to be bothered by Vlad's intervention and was about to hear some gun-related compliments... Then the emperor shouted. And the hell had broken loose... but not in a way the engineer would have expected. The company had been surrounded by a herd of centauri, a flock of winged women and a cyclopean horned beast brimming with fire. It was the ultimate definition of overkill. With such a change in balance of power it was not a gladiator battle, but a cattle slaughter... more fierce than Vlad and the others had endured before. The patian engineer was unable to hold back his frustration mixed with fear. He forgot about precautions given by Shadow Guard (also, screw her, too!) and shouted at the distant golden figure: "That's not fair, you pompous little sh*t!" The punishment for his blasphemous words came swiftly in form of two centaurs. Vlad was forced to part ways with Jack and face the adversaries alone. If Vlad ever had an interest in this place's history, he would be amused by the fact this particular breed of arena centauri are tend to work in pairs. One shoots, other slashes, and vice versa. In time, a bond between them grows from battle to battle up to the point where they became to each other a bit more than just "battle brothers"... But Vlad was too preoccupied to delve himself into complex centauri relations. One of the beasts rushed at Vlad, spear pointed at his chest. The monster was enormously fast, yet Vlad was able to predict his movements. He jumped away a few moments before the lancer could reach him, only to meet face to face with the archer nearby. As the arrow flew, Vlad's instincts kicked in once again. With one well-placed swing of his gun he battered off the flying arrow. Then he changed his grip and pulled the trigger. BOOM! The archer's profile was tall enough to catch as much pellets as possible. The beast flinched in pain, giving Vlad enough time to come a bit closer. *shk-chk* BOOM! ...and do as much damage as possible. *shk-chk* BOOM! Guts spurted from the archer's exposed hybrid torso. He was paralyzed by convulsing pain, yelling at his partner in incomperensive dialect distorted by blood in his throat. Vlad knew what was going to happen next. He stuck the barrel into the torso, closed his eyes shut and... *shk-chk* BOOOM! *splat* *thud* A massive horse-like body dropped down on its four with a bloody gaping hole in the middle. Vlad tried not to watch too much at the mess he had left behind, yet he was still in shock at how quickly he managed to take down such a giant. All of this was done before the very eyes of the lancer, the archer's battle brother. There's another fact about arena centauri: each warrior takes a blood oath with his partner that they would die as they live and fight: together. And what happens when your partner gets killed first by a puny human? Correct, you get extremely pissed. RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! Vlad quickly reloaded his gun, ready to face the lancer's rage. Perhaps he wouldn't have enough momentum to evade or counter his next attack. Yet with heart pounding like a old pump it was hard to stay calm during the heated skirmish. "Alright." *shk-chk* "You and me both, circus boy."
  39. 2 points
    supernal

    What do we know? [Elendaron]

    Since you’re totally not sure let’s not count you towards the players. If you get a more concrete feeling as to whether or not you can reliably join in come on back
  40. 2 points
    Mal frowned as Saito laid out his plan. He knew he was only marginally in charge of things as far as the other Aphelion members went, but he didn't like being dictated to. Part of that was no doubt due to his controlling tendencies. Following other peoples plans made him nervous. When he was in charge, any mistakes made were his own fault, and that was the way he liked it. But the shinobis plan was a sound one, so he nodded his assent, and went to his post. The bridge of the The Wreck was a simple affair. There were stations for the pilot and the navigator, as well as a chair for the captain of the vessel. Sitting down, he pressed a button on the arm of the chair that would open the bay doors for Saito. "I hope he knows what he's doing..."
  41. 2 points
    I would assume that the posting order is how it currently is. Beginning now: Tickle Luke Shize
  42. 2 points
    Die Shize

    Fallng Down the Rabbit Hole

    “ACK MEIN LAMEN!” I exclaim as the monstrous fish chomps down on my arm. If it had the proper teeth then it might just have taken a chunk of flesh out. Instead, its little nibblers left behind only a stinging sensation and inky text that I blinked at like a linguist might when transliterating a foreign language. "grin and bear,deny and scream,you shall not live" Perhaps the words referred to the slogan of a corporation that slaughtered cows? I pinched my chin at the thought, all too reminded of how the fish had pinched my arm with its mouth. With lunch now an afterthought—or was it dinner?—I follow Sophie through the arch and into the tree where Jack was waiting for us. A great tree indeed, with cushions and dancing bugs with light bulbs on their behinds. I didn’t know what to make of the flying and glowing creatures but I took their note and parked my own behind on a cushion. Setting my sword down, I sank myself into it as though it were a cloud. There were scrolls dangling from the overheard bark. One of them had writing that looked Japanese. Another appeared to be a recipe for falafel. Then another scroll depicted a picture of a fish that looked suspiciously similar to the one that had just tried to eat me. A dangerous foe. It reversed our roles. Jack Katana tried to eat the fish but Jack Katana became the meal. This did not sound like a suitable slogan if ever I established my own corporation. I suddenly became aware of the humming. I looked to my two companions but it wasn’t coming from either of them. I hummed in thought, deducing that the other humming wasn’t coming from the flying insects either. From the tree, perhaps? I looked up at the ceiling. A frog blinked back. It was big. Maybe it will put up less of a fight than the fish… When a little girl leapt off one of the armchairs, my vacant lunch and dinner almost leapt out of my throat. Instinct washed over me as I seized my sword from its scabbard and pointed it toward the female beast. Then I realized the truth. Everything made sense. The fish that bit me and the words it left on my arm. I shouted to the girl who waited to eat us. “GRIN AND BEAR, DENY AND SCREAM, YOU SHALL NOT LIVE!”
  43. 2 points
    Csl

    Rozharon Parálios

    Visuals click to expand images the paralios twins hated, hopeless, sleepless, sane arende
  44. 2 points
    Gil

    Breath of Fresh Air [OOC]

    Jesus Christ!! That’s a terrible work schedule
  45. 2 points
    Swirling black eyes watched the emergence of cylindrical container that held the shell of her business partner. Curiousity urged her to come closer to examine the immobile shell but instead she stood where she was and listened to Elizabeth speak. When Liz made mention of her staring, Ilyana didn’t shy away or consider apologizing. She simply nodded to acknowledge the logic behind the statement but continued observing the revivification of the shell before her, logging within her mind the sequential process that she knew Liz had to subject herself to in order to survive and achieve her goals in the physical world around them. This was a vulnerability that could be exploited by others and endangered the very existence of this vibrant mind who was now far more attractive to Ilyana than she had been the first time they had met. Once Liz brought the focus back on her request, Ilyana arched a brow at the consideration that what she requested was ludicrous. The mention that she has read classified documents did not go ignored, however. This meant she was willing to do things outside of the law and that was an area Ilyana didn’t mind dipping her toes in should the need arise. She knew Elizabeth was not finished so she delayed her response until she heard the demand that came next. The push and pull that normally occurs within negotiations had begun and Ilyana was ready to act. So once the demand came that Ilyana reveal her motivation behind what she had asked of Elizabeth, Ilyana finally let loose. “I cannot say I believe you have a better chance at succeeding at something that others have failed miserably. What I can say is that just as the Enrele have been amassing an army, it is time that the citizens of this nation come together to protect their homes, their businesses, and anything else they hold dear. All of the assets and influence that I have acquired will mean nothing if it is usurped by this threat that I believe is far worse than the Legion that attacked Last Chance or even the rifts and monsters that appeared throughout the continent.” Her expression shifted to show she was contemplating something but it wouldn’t take long for her to continue. “The ability to identify the Enrele will allow us to mitigate their growth and nullify their influence. I would prefer if we could preserve the weak they have hungrily consumed in whatever plans they have but if collateral damage is necessary for the survival of the many then I can accept that as well. Any help that Ventrix Industries or Technologies can be to curb the Enrele threat will help my job as much as yours.” Ilyana was purposefully vague concerning which motive truly drove her towards this cause. Her response held a mixture of greed, patriotism, and a desire to survive that would make it hard to decipher what motivated her the most. Did it matter any to E.P? “I will be a bit more transparent with the means I have at my disposal for you as well. I have entered an agreement with Lady Caeceila Glasmann, also of Hell’s Gate, to share intelligence and use our collective influence to do what we can to eventually rid ourselves of the Enrele threat. I am aware of how lofty a goal that might seem but I do not believe that it is outside of the reach of my home or yours.” She frowned a bit soon after before she finished her explanation with the next few words. “I am not as learned in science as you or many here in this company which is why I need you to be my complement so we can help each other achieve what the other cannot do alone.”
  46. 2 points
    Wing is the first anime I ever watched. Despite many flaws, it has always maintained a special place in my heart. I don't think Heero fits the Gary Stu bill. Just because he has certain abilities doesn't make him one. The anime never really gets into how he is what he is, though; it's mostly left to the conclusions and imagination of the viewer. Same with Trowa.
  47. 2 points
    After dropping his doggo rather quickly Ed was left with what amounted to breathing room in this pitched.... Clusterfuck? Yeah, that's appropriate. Unslinging his rifle he took a moment to scan the field for a good target to pick off and in a moment, selected one. The act wasn't anything noteworthy, everyone performed better when the victim was fucking off doing something else. There heavy shots struck Dan's canine issue that still had a working jaw. It wasn't like Ed couldn't infuse [Dragon Tooth] into a round, or that the rifle wasn't designed to cycle the magic into the next shot via recoil. It was, and because of this the hound was sent flying via three eruptions of gore. The fact that the remaining hellhound didn't even have a working jaw anymore was its own personal problem.
  48. 2 points
    Dolor Aeternum

    The See-All

    Something about this method of communication felt familiar to the amorphous being, glimpses of a time where conforming to the language of his surroundings never entered his mind. The vivid imagery Lun’silth slid into his labyrinthine mind drove forward with the purity of emotions that had just been unearthed, leaving Agony frozen in place and overwhelmed by a past that only served to wound him now. The sting of betrayal pierced through the intangible portions of his being and caused a wail that echoed through the forest around them. Obtenebra was just as affected, tortured by the same emotions that had begun to suffocate its companion. It too remembered. It too suffered and yearned for retribution. The ooze whipped around violently, not wanting to endure the power of what it felt until it resigned itself and pooled along the floor. It could not prevent Lun’silth’s onslaught of truth and it knew Agony could not either for it was the stark reality of what was that they could not ignore. They were here because others had discarded them. People they thought were family had cast them down to this realm simply because they did not agree with him or his companion. This was why the desire for power and survival had been ingrained in every single action. They must live to see beings such as those within those images removed from their lofty perches and placed beneath the boots of the oppressed. Power was what would help them achieve that. Power is relative. Absolute power.. unattainable/does not exist. ‘Enough’ is relative. But I... teacher... return/re-teach what was yours... and more. Lun’silth’s attempt to teach Agony and Obtenebra a valuable lesson regarding what they sought sunk in just as Agony began to sense hordes of creatures around them. Every mile within the Broken Plains became known to him through the eyes of those creatures who called Yh’mi home. Sparks of sentience and emotion could be felt throughout the land. He could feel the peace that he had forced upon the Saevion once again and see the Saevion spawn looking calmly at their mother. He could see the chitten frantically exploring the many dark caverns throughout the plains in search of sustenance. Agony’s vision switched to a large gutterfiend surveying its surroundings as it’s heavy steps lead it forward. No manner of creature within the Broken Plains was beyond this sight he had been granted yet that vision became dulled and the caveat was presented. Lun’silth desired devotion much like Lirrey the Eternal Star did. Whatever this ‘Eater of Stars’ was that they feared required that they amass beings as assets to their cause but Agony was wary. What if they too intended to discard him as all others did? What if they simply sought to consume him for the power that dwelled within him? This was what he had feared concerning Lunara and Agony was not oblivious to the possible hypocrisy of accepting what he had just been offered. Obtenebra was just as wary though it had already begun its own preparations to ensure that it and its companion would survive no matter what. Whatever Lun’silth was, Agony could sense it was also tied to Lirrey as well. The trepidation he had felt for Lunara before had begun to slowly creep in but Agony ultimately snuffed it in favor of a new perspective. If she is bound to suffer from her bond, I will share her suffering and help her overcome it. Lun’silth would sense Agony’s acceptance. Dedication would be offered should Lun’silth be true to the offer that had been presented. Something within Agony knew that should it come to it, he would defy existence itself to make sure he would survive to finish what he strived to accomplish.
  49. 2 points
    Fierach

    The Harrowing | Kadia Event

    "To your stations !" James roared over the din just inside one of the primary embarkment ramps. "Move!" Outside the din of battle became muted, but they could still hear the endless bellowing of the chaos horde. A sharper sound came, a screaming that grew in intensity immediately before it terminated in an abrupt jolt, the vessel shuddering. One of the Towers had gotten within range and was lobbing fresh shells at the airship. The void shielding held, but the impact could be clearly felt. James stretched out an arm to steady himself, and then helped up a slumped Guardian, foisting him off on a comrade. “Get the wounded to medical, now!” he glared over at Lena and the inquisitor Alexa, the former who quailed under the battle-fury still present in his eyes. “One job, Guardian! Get Ms. Caelestia back to the infirmary!” his voice was no less thunderous when he turned to Alexa, “Inquisitor! You are wounded. You will desist from using your psyker powers in your condition aboard my ship before you lose control in your weakened state and tear an opening in the shielding from the warp!” It was not a request, more like a statement of fact, as if the Daemonslayer’s own indomitable will could change reality to fit it. In the bridge of the ship, matters were no less hectic. Captain Clavis displayed his mastery of the frigate’s abilities and his command of the crew and coordinated the vessel’s escape. More shells rattled off the Imperator Bellum’s shields and the ship responded in kind, lancing out and devastating many of the smaller daemon war machines on the ground as they made good their escape. Two miles away from the battleground they made their exit, the experimental engine opening a new tear in unreality for the ship to pass though, to continue on their path within the Harrowing. The battle was over. The war went on.
  50. 2 points
    Tenebris Pulviam

    Editing shtuff

    Oh wow! Thank you! I can see it now
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