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Dupin last won the day on August 11

Dupin had the most liked content!


About Dupin

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    A mile above the sea

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  1. For personal reasons I will need to be AFV for the foreseeable future. I really apologize if I ghosted anybody in the meantime, y'all have been more than great :) Feel free to reach out to me on discord for any reason! (I don't check discord regularly, but I'll see it within a week or two!)

  2. 1) Looks good! 1a) Pleasure meeting Drift! Looking forward to future RPing with ya! 1b) Welcome! 2) Lake trip sounds great to me!
  3. I'm okay with all of those. :) (Including the insult to Vito's children and the list falling apart numerically!)
  4. Thanks @Sirloin! @HollowCipher any updates or points you're struggling with/way I can help?
  5. Thank you! Does it help if you think of it as a hand "starting fresh"?
  6. The explosions, the smoke, and the resulting ripple effects came together to form a sensory experience that would temporarily stun even the best trained professionals. The Dead's operatives found themselves suddenly thrown from the complacent comforts of a successful heist and into a murky sea of uncertainty. Everything was going perfectly, and Vito's children added to the perfection by being right on cue. Against a backdrop of prismatic neon and billowing smoke, and with the sensation of bone rattling shockwaves still fresh in the enemy's mind, a reptilian mass of greens and reds smashed into the Red Door's namesake. It only took moments before the small creatures compounded the critical mass needed to turn this barricade into a heap of splinters and warped metal. It was a scene right out of a bouncer's worst nightmare--if the Dead needed any help prioritizing their forces' focus, then the hive-mind of bloodthirsty lizard-folk would likely do the job. As quickly as the red doors went down, the Dead operatives inside began pushing back; fireballs, icicles, thunderbolts, and a miscellany of other magical threats met Vito's creatures at the entrance. Tiny scaled corpses flew like organic shrapnel as the Dead's spells met the scaly intruders, but it wasn't enough. Like casting stones at the ocean in an attempt to ward off the high tide, or like plugging a dam with a band-aide, the Dead's initial responce wasn't as unified as it needed to be; their forces were still scattered throughout the nightclub and the real threat was only now becoming clear. A tactical tug of war was playing out in real time: Would the Dead's skeleton crew come together fast enough to plug the hole? Or would the kobold wave overwhelm a startled defense? There were too many factors for anybody to say with certainty, but Liam could certainly nudge the outcome towards the latter. Approximately ten meters from where the kobolds were single-mindedly piling through a relatively small bottle-neck, Liam stood by the Red Door's wall with four mercenaries that the Vilad family had provided at his request. His entourage consisted of two armored brutes equipped with massive hammers and two stereotypical spell slingers. "This spot should work just fine." Liam said while smacking the grey wall being bathed in the main street's neon blue glow. He moved behind the hammer wielding brutes and signaled the spell slingers to be at the ready. "Let's give these small hell raisers a hand, shall we?" A simple request with a dramatic outcome. The armor clad ogre-like men brought their hammers down on the wall in an unrelenting barrage. The first few blows left cracks in their wake and sent grey chips flying. The next few swings opened thin windows into the club. Finally, a mighty blow from one of the men caused a small avalanche of crumbling stone and created a puncture in the wall big enough to peak one's head through. The first part of their job was almost done, but there was no time to celebrate. An icy blue bolt of magical death came screeching through the newly formed opening; the unfortunate muscle-head who managed to perforate the wall had hardly indulged in the sweet satisfaction of his triumph over the barrier before he met an untimely end. The three surviving mercenaries hesitated while weighing the pros and cons of this lifestyle, but Liam snapped them back into action. "Don't stop! They won't." The surviving muscle-bound cut-throat went back to his hammering, but at a more panicked cadence than before. Each strike on the building's exterior was met with magical counter-strikes from the inside. Once the wall turned into a makeshift tunnel, kobolds began spilling into the building from two places...but why stop there? Time is an invaluable commodity in this operation, and Liam would not idle. Now, minutes after their assault had begun, and with the 'Red Door' desperately needing to be rebranded as the 'Two Door Frames', Vito's kobold forces would have an easier time overwhelming the enemy, and Liam could direct his attention inward. "Cover me, then go open up more holes for our little friends." Liam's command brought the idling mages to life. They began casting wards and other protective spells on the Fuller's tactician. Meanwhile, Liam reached into his suit jacket's inner pocket, pulled out a small vial of chalky blue liquid, and pounded it back--a little alchemic 'aide' to sharpen his senses before jumping headlong into the fray. Wasting no time, Liam weaved his way into the kobold blob infront of him. By this point the Dead's agents had organized themselves, which made Liam's journey inward a task akin to threading a needle. Spells flew towards him from all directions, but his mercenaries' back up, the kobold meat shield, and some bobbing and weaving got him through the first layer soon enough--he was inside the club now and dove behind the nearest dancing platform for cover from the unrelenting magical barrage. Unfortunately, as the cliche goes, there ain't no rest for the wicked. The skeleton mages' flurry of destructive spells weren't targeted at individuals, but once inside some of the Dead's forces were defending the ground and disposing of intruders. A wiry silhouette disguised as a skeleton had noticed Liam's breach and immediately came plummeting from above like a spear wielding comet. Liam rolled out of the way and bounced to his feet with a precision knife now in his hand, but his spear-wielding enemy wouldn't relent. The skeleton confronting Liam leveraged their reach advantage to unleashed a deadly series of thrusts, and from Liam's side a small crackling ball of molten stone was boiling through the air. Liam shifted to the left, narrowly evading the first strike from the spear, and he grabbed a mostly in-tact metallic bar stool with his free hand. In an alchemically enhanced feat of dexterity, the young Fuller swung the stool up to meet the incoming magic projectile. The makeshift shield diverted most of the molten mess, but the stool exploded on contact and left Liam with only its metallic leg in hand. Small bits of sizzling rock burned Liam's tailor made suit, and some of the stool's debris flew back at Liam cutting the suit and leaving bleeding knicks on his skin. The bodily damage was minimal, but the damage to Liam's wardrobe was invaluable--his tailor would not be happy. There was no time to mourn, as the spear wielding enemy was coming in for a second jab aimed at Liam's stomach. Liam brought the stool's remaining leg down on the spear, diverting its course, and then followed the motion by throwing the debris at his opponent's head. The skeleton easily dodged, but Liam was already closing in and had produced another vial from inside his jacket. Liam closed the distance and stuck his precision knife just under his bony-costumed foe's armpit, but not before the spear left a shallow gash on Liam's left ribcage. There was no time to assess the damage, before the dying masked enemy could retreat, Liam stabbed them in the stomach while making sure to maximally damage their internal organs, and in the same motion he charged with his legs to pick the dying opponent up as a shield against incoming magical fire. As Liam finally began pushing further into the enemy line, his goal was forced to shift. A loud crash temporarily drowned out the cacophonous buzz of battle on the ground floor of the Red Door; an unconscious Caden came crashing from above and onto the bar. A Dead soldier in clubbing attire immediately beelined towards the motionless Fuller's leader--a race ensued between Caden and the man, but they had a head start. Liam lobbed the vial of purple liquid to the space between Caden and the incoming grim-reaper, and when it hit the ground a mist began rising while leaving a frosty wall in its wake. The enemy wisely chose to stop their approach to avoid the mist, but changed course with the explicit goal of intercepting Liam. Seeing this, Liam planted another purple vial on his limp human shield and tossed them in the incoming man's direction; as the dead skeleton crashed to the floor, they cracked like an ice sculpture as the mist slowly rose from their shattered remains. The incoming enemy would need to take another detour, but the bastard would not relent. Liam reached Caden, but gained little insight into what had happened on the floor above; all he could see through the hole in the ceiling was destruction and the silhouette of a woman walking away. With no time to investigate and the Dead's lieutenant charging in their direction with obsessive tenacity, Liam did something rather desperate. He produced two more vials from his coat--one was a deep red and the other was technicolored, one was an antidote and the other a deadly poison. He drank half of the red vial, forced the other half down Caden's unresponsive throat, and cracked the technicolored vial in his hand. A deadly mist enveloped the two, and again the Dead's lieutenant wisely retreated. Pain began invading every inch of Liam's body in a way that mirrored the kobold onslaught. He tossed Caden over his shoulder and began retreating as quickly as he could--they only had minutes before the misty barrier would render Liam incapacitated. Taking cover in the kobold mess, Liam made quick progress out of the club, but not before a cold bolt struck the back of his Caden-free shoulder. They'd made it out alive, but their enemy ensured they weren't in one piece. Dropping Caden on the floor in a nearby alleyway, and collapsing to his side, Liam mustered his last ounce of strength to drop a small black ball onto the ground. It began letting loose a thin stream of yellow smoke and a high pitched whistle. Liam's sight began to darken, the surrounding racket began to fade, and Liam could only hope that Vito would come to retrieve them before the enemy did.
  7. Thanks y'all! Mostly making sure I'm not like "Liam grabs Caden and the two are off. Good thing the skeletons were only the threats being fielded!" if your post was meant to set up something like "Phoebe summons a spectre that is coming at Caden. Also, there is some anonymous third party coming at Caden now too. Liam will have to handle these if he plans on grabbing the lug." lol
  8. @Noko Sorry, two more questions: i) What is a Mindgorger and is this something that's about to jump down from the second floor onto Caden? ii) Is the source of that hand something/somebody Liam should be addressing/aware of? Just want to make sure I have a good understanding of the threats and time-scales involved with coming to Caden's rescue.
  9. Great, then unless Rabbit says otherwise I'll go into the post kitchen and start cooking something up. (I'm assuming you will answer in the affirmative since you posted a compass gif lol)
  10. @Noko Definitely noted on the skeletons! Please don't hesitate to tell me to make edits if you disagree with my portrayal of them 🙂 @supernal @Noko @Rabbit Two things: I missed the main OoC action, but I think y'all sorted out the main points of confusion. Are we okay with the degree to which our mental images are synced? I think the clarification about the airships, kobold size, and general scale of the army is back to the original scope I was envisioning. Are we officially transitioning from the initial attack to the escape (that is, from stage 1 to 2 in the session zero post)? If so, are we starting a regular post rotation from this point onwards? (I'm guessing I'd be next if so.)
  11. There is this massive (and obvious) hole that's been somehow poked in the pocket dimension we are kept. This is the only obvious bridge between the desert area and the inside of the actual prison. Also, however it was made, it was was VERY loud and had a BIG magical signature. If you went there then you'd find a HUGE group of prisoners trying to squeeze through (picture the chaos that would unfold when there is a single bottle-neck between these criminals and their potential freedom). Also, Aymeric is there and thinking about how he might get through the hole...hint hint wink wink lol
  12. @stuv Sorry! Totally forgot to respond to you. Literally had a message saved on the thread, but I guess I never actually pressed "Submit". Here's what I had written: Vague is totally okay! Mostly asked these in case folks wanted something more, also so that everybody at least thought about how they can make sense in the story at least a little. No specific roles needed, feel free to experiment and try to find a role you like/are drawn to 🙂 Also, in case it wasn't obvious from my reply, feel free to post whenever! Looking forward to meeting Catboy. You'll just be in the rotation wherever you happen to post.
  13. "...I'm a strange fellow..." Says Drift. Ha! Using 'strange' to describe this guy is like calling the Shawnee Glacier 'nippy.' Though, all things considered, given the relative nature of 'strangeness' and the present company, maybe 'strange' is the right descriptor? ... ... ... Wait, never mind, I feel bad now. Based on his story, there may be more subtlety to Drift than I originally believed. Still, 'strange' doesn't seem quite right--I'll go with 'eccentric' from now on. Immediately after his preface, which I made a pedantic ass of myself by teasing on the record, Drift chased down some liquid courage with a heartfelt teaser of his life story. How heartfelt you may ask? Well, to summarize: i) Pablo is now unapologetically ugly crying, ii) Emilio already fast-tracked his bond with Drift to somewhere in the 'old friends' range, and iii) I even stopped writing until he was done. "Tha's soo saaaaaaad~~" Pablo sputtered out while choking on tears and clearing the snotty byproduct produced by his cathartic outpour. As Emilio finished his gesture, Pablo pounced. He moved in for a hug with little regard for the (now) tear-diluted wine he was spilling. "I wush I could help~~" Pablo added between snotty inhales, now warmly embracing the strange eccentric drifter. Soon Pablo's empathetic outpour began losing momentum and, with one very satisfying breath, I could almost see his airways clear. "I know!" Pablo exclaimed while gradually stepping back like a person re-inventing the concept of personal space. "Want me to make you some banana bread?" The sentence began with tear wiping and concluded with Pablo's usual beaming simpleton's smile. "My ma always says that there ain't no problem that can't be helped by banana bread!" As all of this unfolded, something unprecedented was happening; Emilio was actually confronting me about being on the clock at his party--doesn't this guy know about the social contract we've all signed that dictates we only be passive-aggressive in these scenarios? Could Emilio be one of those wacko 'data privacy' activists popping up in Hells Gate? No, he's far too old and far too far from Hell's Gate. Besides, everybody knows that these data privacy folks are crack-pots who're just afraid of technological progress and hate having nice things. "Uhh..." I all but picked my jaw up off the floor before answering. "Are you saying you want to check my notes? Don't worry, I won't add anything that might portray you negatively...That is, if dirtying your legacy is the concern." Of course I was lying. I was going to write whatever I saw--I do have my own journalistic integrity. "Besides Emilio, my friend, my chum, my companion, once I organize, edit, and publish these badboys I'll be giving back WAY more than I'm taking." I tapped my notebook as I said this. "Once these are hot off the press, this glorious day is going to be added to annals of sentient knowledge forever!" At this point Pablo chimed in "Don't worry Emilio! He isn't trying to be inappropriate. He just has nothing to give!" I know his intention was pure, but the execution was harsh. I suddenly found myself simultaneously wanting to participate more and wanting to bury myself deeper in the work--true artists are never fully appreciated while alive. When the flurry of conversations settled after Drift's sobering backstory, and the question about 'tiny' Tobias' cheese was unleashed into the open, I knew we were in for a painful olfactory tour de force. Pablo always made a point of carrying around the horrid smelling cheese. "I do! I do have tiny-T's tremendously famous cheese! Give me a moment." Pablo ran into the house and re-emerged a minute or so later with a small wrapped package. When he was about a dozen paces from us, the smells began...the cheese stunk. Like, it REALLY (REALLY) stunk. "Careful not to take too big a bite of the cheese on its own." Pablo began while thoughtfully unwrapping the dairy stink bomb. "You see, tiny-T's secret is that he washes the rind to help the rosy-orange cultures develop. Most folks don't do that since it's hard to get right; really gives the cheese that magical meaty funk. But, if you bite off too much you'll find that the bitter and salty elements overcoming your palate during the waves of developing flavors. Please, help yourselves!" Pablo stuck his hand out in a gesture of handing the pungent product to whoever was brave enough to try some. He'd peeled back the multiple wrappers so that what folks saw was a gooey off-white cheese with a powdery rind. Any of the guests with a particularly sensitive nose was about to feel assaulted...
  14. Thanks for the likes! You clearly have exquisite taste!

    1. Dupin


      Likes where likes are deserved! The writing felt on par with all the greatest writers of our time like Tommy Wiseau or the folks responsible for Nickleback's music. (Jk, I genuinely enjoyed it! Made catching up on y'alls RP a pleasure! Thanks for producing it so that I could read haha)

  15. Noko

    Aw, I found myself rooting for team Fuller for a minute there!

    1. Dupin


      Thank you very much! Never too late to join the winning side 😉

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