I need someone for RP. You will design/be the main character in a text-based adventure. Many of the concepts in this RP are related to a book I'm working on, this is a good place for me to test out idea's/writing styles. You'll need to design a person that lives in our modern-day world, or within a few decades of now if there's a particularly recent era that you have an excellent character in. They can be anyone of any social class as long as they are from Earth and you can roleplay the heck out of their personality. I have a fictional metaverse to take you on an adventure in! Magic and space!
I hope you:
-can hopefully post at least once every 48 hours. I do not mind prolonged breaks with proper warning, life happens.
-are capable of posting casual/advanced-length(100-1000+words) if necessary and have a good grasp of English/grammar.
-are 18+, as I am 27 and we may discuss mature themes.
-are okay with mature themes. I do not always condone or agree with the actions of my characters, please warn me if you have specific triggers so I can avoid those scenarios or keep their descriptions as brief as possible. Otherwise, it may be possible that anything can happen. Although, I'm not trying to intentionally put you in bad scenarios.
WARNING FOR POST BELOW: mature themes
-Violence.
-Triggering terms. (If I've written something offensive or seem to have a bad/ignorant/dickish perspective towards something then hit me up and help me learn how to be more considerate or to explain the validity of my writing. Although, Destiny is a bit homophobic and my posts are written somewhat from the perspective of the character they initially highlight so "gay as ever" is something she would say, however bad it might be. I don't condone her speaking/thinking that way lol.)
This is an expositionary post from another RP, I do these every now and then. Sometimes I do a lot of them when the story is beginning/transitioning.
Feel free to shoot me a DM or leave a post if you made it this far and you are still interested!
I hope you:
-can hopefully post at least once every 48 hours. I do not mind prolonged breaks with proper warning, life happens.
-are capable of posting casual/advanced-length(100-1000+words) if necessary and have a good grasp of English/grammar.
-are 18+, as I am 27 and we may discuss mature themes.
-are okay with mature themes. I do not always condone or agree with the actions of my characters, please warn me if you have specific triggers so I can avoid those scenarios or keep their descriptions as brief as possible. Otherwise, it may be possible that anything can happen. Although, I'm not trying to intentionally put you in bad scenarios.
WARNING FOR POST BELOW: mature themes
-Violence.
-Triggering terms. (If I've written something offensive or seem to have a bad/ignorant/dickish perspective towards something then hit me up and help me learn how to be more considerate or to explain the validity of my writing. Although, Destiny is a bit homophobic and my posts are written somewhat from the perspective of the character they initially highlight so "gay as ever" is something she would say, however bad it might be. I don't condone her speaking/thinking that way lol.)
This is an expositionary post from another RP, I do these every now and then. Sometimes I do a lot of them when the story is beginning/transitioning.
SNAPSHOT EARTH
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DOCUMENT: #G-3598-H-2987-Z-6283
CONFIRMATION: #GIA-7777
RESOURCE REQUEST I-L44
Request: Trait analysis team to assess Room D26 of the Fitzer Apartments. Full geo-location listed at bottom of document. Full-scrub required.
Tertiary budget approved.
Consulting sources approved.
TSA-Clearance requests approved.
Necessitation: Extra-Terrestrial readings recorded at 23:46EST by Kuiper base. Detection pursued by GIA Special Agent Welsh 05:36EST. Potential Convergence Case.
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It's the modern-day, east coast, New York, the Fitzer apartment building, fourth floor. We are with agent Welsh of the G.I.A., an acronym for "Galactic Interactions Agency", in what's left of a domocile that has seen better days. He stares blankly for a time through an area that used to be the kitchen wall, observing the parking lot forty feet below as thoughts turn like molasses through the dusty cogs of a still-slumbering mind. It feels for him to be too early in the day for an inspection of a half-exploded apartment.
Local authorities collected their photos and evidence of what is currently being looked at as a "Gas Explosion", leaving Welsh to explore the debris at his leisure. He finally stirs himself enough to begin walking the perimeter after a deep sigh.
Polished shoes strut with brisk confidence below suit threads through soot-caked hallways. Exhausted breath flows like a breeze from our agent's mouth whilst he examines his surroundings in an exasperrated stupor. Coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he gently pushes this and nudges that to get a look at nothing in particular until finally finding something of importance.
"... Shit." Welsh would say upon spotting what he had hoped he wouldn't find. Engraved plain as day into the floorboards below, one small circle with an allotment of specific symbols lining its internal circumference. He slowly sets down his coffee and withdraws a bulky cell-phone from an internal coat pocket, pressing its red speed dial button.
"Yea... Gordon, this is Welsh... Yeah, no, I'm doing fine, same soup just re-heated... I thought it was suspicious as well. That's why I'm calling... Yep, I'm standing in it now.-"
Welsh continues the conversation whilst looking around his immediate vicinity for a second time. The morning wind blows gently in through a missing living room wall. Something of fire and fury certainly exploded from the fourth floor of the Fitzer Apartment building.
"-...Well, I'm thinking you should call the florists straight away. They don't like being brought in last minute, I'd rather overpay than lose the contract like last time. I'll get a team of analysts down here and you'll get the information soon. I'll have a full debrief for you tomorrow at eleven, your time... Yup, good luck, sir."
The phone clicks shut, being stowed lazily in its usual pocket. Welsh scratches the back of his neck, drawing in another cloud from his cigarette. Collecting your thoughts is an essential practice with the Earth's fate potentially being at immediate risk.
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It is the distant past. A trapeze of lightning and rain dance amidst the heaving heavens, sumptuous roars accompanied by hellish bellows amidst a stormy night. Here the devils dance, fire lighting their way beneath sheets of powdered ocean. Tribesmen of the Fempth family jump and howl aside the hidden stars above, a green flame swirling vacantly atop one logless firepit between eight shambling forms. The year is 78946 B.C., Earth, Post First-Calamity.
"He will shout and scream." This is an English interpretation of what was spoken. The original Fempth language was never spoken and always sung. For casual speech, they communicate via rhythmic sign language, which also translates into a sort of 'jargon' of percussion for their dances and historic hymns.
"Leee-yes, fuuultumpth, meeeskrallegth!" Were the untranslated words, sung at length in a slow triple-meter fashion. The first singer is a soprano, hitting sharp notes high in the human vocal range. Each word is pushed from a squeezed abdomen, her arms flailing upward whilst the rest of her body slowly falls before rising again at the beginning of the next line.
"He will leave with the blood of Pan."
"Leee-yes, Grouf, depthanooool!" The next to sing was a deep bass, rounding out the lower notes of our human register. He would jump upwards before landing, his final word being sung melismatically whilst bowing low to the Earth.
"And in Le-Yes's coming, the fury of heavenly bodies is quenched. And in Le-Yes's going, all but one of us is left in peace."
Borel Leee-Yes! Fulfa gampa neta-moar! Boral Leee-Yes! quasta yaway gulstaaaa!" This final line is sung by all eight performers present, their twirling bodies playing a contest with the sky in how loud they can scream and how viciously they can dance. This continues until the final phrase. All at once, they would bring their knees and faces to the dirt, and all at once, that luminous green flame in the middle of their encircled figures would vanish.
The dark of the night swallows them all, and time marches atop their inevitable corpses many days in the future. The notable fact about these peoples and their history is that they had both vocal and written accounts of all their rituals. The Fempth family, the true oracles.
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"Hey, John! Get over here... You'll never believe this..." Called one woman to a nearby man, his desert-appropriate clothing bouncing over thin limbs as he approaches.
"Almost as much as I won't believe the find of a lifetime?" The man, John, would say. His tone was as excited as it was exhausted, every upbeat word being followed by a long and barely audible sigh.
"Oh come on, don't let it get to you! We came for vacation, we stayed for work. It's as simple as that!" John would stare at the woman blankly for several moments, letting her sly excitability overtake his lack of legitimate vacation time. She was beautiful, and everything to him.
"Okay, Sarah, what is it?" John would eventually ask, inquiring about whatever it was he had originally been called over for. Even while she answered, his eyes never left her.
"Look at this! It's a written account of what they call a 'Farsight' ritual. They keep referencing something, 'Le-Yes', at the beginning of each line." Sarah would trace her thin finger over a stone-carved tablet, having been partially uncovered with fine brushes and tools.
"Let me see." John shields his eyes from the beating sun as he turns towards the nearby text pointed out to him by Sarah.
"What is it?" Would come the quick response to John's spoken thoughts.
"Well..-" He would patiently begin in a slow and calm voice, enjoying how his friend could hardly keep herself from wanting to know more about these ancient peoples. "-in the context it means something like, 'World-Breaker'."
"What's this line at the end of the poem?" She'd say, pointing at the bottom of the tablet.
"Oh, it's a date, around a decade from now. Summer of 2023 A.D. by the looks of it." He would say, finding it humorous that these people thought they could peer so far through time with any amount of success. This married couple would have quite the time analyzing their findings in the years to come.
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Gothic candles? Check.
Authentic book of summoning? Check.
Killer Attitude? Check.
Destiny Miller was running through her pre-social checklist. She had been planning to host tonight's event for quite some time, having tossed the thought around her head more than a beach ball at a Nickleback concert as a method to sane during history lectures at her local community college. The group she had fallen in with wasn't ideal, but, on the spectrum of young adults practicing the occult, they certainly aren't the worst.
These were the occult practitioners that had picked up the profession to impress someone, pass the time, or rebel against family-imposed dogma. Typically, looking into a night like this would end in some minor drama and pleasant memories to carry into later-adulthood. Regrettably for our current group, tonight could hardly be called normal in any respectable sense.
DING-DING! Destiny's phone chimes with an incoming call, the screens time reading as 10:13PM-EST during its the slow ascent to her blushing cheek.
"I'm at the door! Let's do this, bitch!" Destiny's first friend to arrive, Shawn, gay as ever and sounding at least slightly drunk, was waiting to be buzzed into the building below.
"I'll buzz you in, see you soon, bitch!" Destiny would shout excitedly, stepping with near-hops to her door whilst hanging up the phone and putting it on to a nearby table.
"We carpooled,-" Shawn would state loudly upon bursting into Destiny's fourth-floor apartment along with everyone else who had agreed to arrive tonight.
"I'm so glad you made it!" Destiny would scream as the various members of her friend group came into the two-bedroom apartment.
The five of them would gossip about this weeks happenings between beers before coming to the event of the night. Time passes full of nervous chatter and the hushed practicing of some strange incantations while a circle of candles is lit in the middle of the floor. The sun is down and the time reads 11:44 PM.
"Okay Destiny, you start." Shawn would say anxiously, all five of the friends present exchanging anxious glances after Destiny is given permission to initiate a haphazard ritual.
"Ooo-hoo-hoolahm-" Destiny begins the first line of her chant, nearly laughing after hearing the strange and melodic sound leave her mouth and make her chest vibrate.
"-oooooohoolahm!" They all join in, knowing they have to repeat the phrase in unison eleven more times if they are to successfully summon a spirit from the other world and make a request.
Once over, nothing happens.
Twice over, still nothing.
Three times of repetition and all they can feel is their boredom slowly growing.
Four times and Shawn is the first to break from the chant.
"This blows, Destiny!" Shawn would say, rather loudly, during the fifth chant. This is where unexpected results began are achieved.
Destiny feels a tingling across her body, waves of warm sensation spread like a blanket over and under her tired skin. She could feel herself absorbing waves of heat with eyes still closed. The world was gone entirely up until the worried voice of Shawn pierced her perceptual radius for a second time.
"Destiny...?" Shawn would say, worry and awe dripping slowly into open air from his trembling lips. This is what brought Destiny back into the waking world, where she was quite literally glowing a bright white and floating several feet from the ground.
"Guys! I'm floa-" Destiny never finished her remark, not before the worst was to occur.
Fire and light begins to spill from Destiny's mouth, her body breaking apart and exploding suddenly in a fury of heat and strange miasma. The nebulas smoke left behind fills the lungs of her remaining friends between shouts and panicked breathing, poisoning them in strange and otherworldly ways.
Flesh begins to split inside of cotton clothing and laced shoes as Shawn, along with the four remaining friends, howl in pain between spastic convulsions. Blackish ooze seeps from their eyes and ears as small glowing tendrils of grasslike consistency begin to split from between their muscles and into the air conditioned space around them, spraying a previously clean environment with an assortment of crude bodily fluids. The bloody mist and otherworldly smoke eventually clears to reveal vastly mutated creatures of the night, their oozing claws and bulbous eyes bubbling with the violent froth of an unnatural form.
Unexpectedly, a new face had joined the group. Ushered in from nothing was a masculine figure wearing workers coveralls, a backpack, and laced-up boots.
"A misfire?" The man would casually say aloud as if he were casually thinking aloud at his day job. He is left alone in this fourth floor apartment with a care free attitude and five monsters of the Lovecraftian variety.
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Walking from the towering complex of Council Auxilliary forces is a masculine figure. Lez-Yez, one member of such a force, walks with purpose towards his allocated transportation pad.
"..Hmph, guard duty?" Lez-Yez would think aloud during the reading of his orders, flipping casually through an official-looking pamphlet provided by his superior officer. Something about guiding a target to some big tournament and making sure no one sabotages them between rounds. This should be simple, or at least, relatively simple compared to previous assignments.
Lez-Yez eventually stops just above a circular pad, its metallic surface coming to life with a melodic hum and ivory glow. An automated voice chimes in to provide gentle instructions.
"Welcome, transport pad D34 will fill travel ticket G-H-K67. Please stand by." The voice cuts off as the ivory glow consumes Lez-Yez completely. The glow would eventually end abruptly, pad D34 being left empty as Lez-Yez is sent to travel far across the cosmos.
Our man had taken a teleportation pad to his assigned duties. Normally this transportation is predesignated and harmless for everyone involved. Regrettably this occasion was not quite as clean as past events would predict. Lez-Yez wasn't entirely sure until he arrived, but, something was clearly amiss.
What would have been a quick flash of light and a slight shift of gravity suddenly twisted and spun with blue hues and strange sounds. Before he could tell what was going on, Lez-Yez found himself standing on the fourth-floor of Fitzer apartments, room D26.
"A misfire?" Felph would think aloud, realizing something had gone wrong around same time he realized that he's surrounded by some rather distasteful entities.
"GergshlRAH!" The first of five beasts lunge at Lez-Yez who arrived in a momentary chariot of white and blue light. He moves in response with a reflexive palm strike to the beast's chest, organs exploding from it's back after colliding with extreme physical strength.
Lez-Yez withdraws a device from his left pocket and points it at the next closest abomination in one smooth motion. His index fingers presses a small trigger on the side of the device once after being pointed at each of the four nearby nightmares that have slowly begun lurching towards their guest.
da-da-da-BOOM! like thunder after lightning, four quick flashes of explosive power envelop the entirety of this apartment, smoldering flames flowing freely as one living room wall explodes from the Fitzer and onto the vacant sidewalk below. Standing freely in the inferno of D26 is Lez-Yez, unharmed and placing his pistol-Esque sidearm back into its respective pocket.
"Wrong side of the planet...?" Lez-Yez would think aloud again after withdrawing a small spherical orb from his pocket to examine its surface. The flames and smoke did nothing to hinder his eyesight or movements as he casually checks the orb near his assailant's disintegrated corpses. Eventually, he would leave, leaping with ease from the fourth floor and onto the street below.
He lands with a loud "bang!" creating a small crack on the parking lot pavement the bore the impact of his dense weight. Without missing a beat, Lez-Yez would begin sprinting a brisk pace into the night air and over any obstacles before him with leaps and bounds beyond what most any human is capable of.
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DOCUMENT: #G-3598-H-2987-Z-6283
CONFIRMATION: #GIA-7777
RESOURCE REQUEST I-L44
Request: Trait analysis team to assess Room D26 of the Fitzer Apartments. Full geo-location listed at bottom of document. Full-scrub required.
Tertiary budget approved.
Consulting sources approved.
TSA-Clearance requests approved.
Necessitation: Extra-Terrestrial readings recorded at 23:46EST by Kuiper base. Detection pursued by GIA Special Agent Welsh 05:36EST. Potential Convergence Case.
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It's the modern-day, east coast, New York, the Fitzer apartment building, fourth floor. We are with agent Welsh of the G.I.A., an acronym for "Galactic Interactions Agency", in what's left of a domocile that has seen better days. He stares blankly for a time through an area that used to be the kitchen wall, observing the parking lot forty feet below as thoughts turn like molasses through the dusty cogs of a still-slumbering mind. It feels for him to be too early in the day for an inspection of a half-exploded apartment.
Local authorities collected their photos and evidence of what is currently being looked at as a "Gas Explosion", leaving Welsh to explore the debris at his leisure. He finally stirs himself enough to begin walking the perimeter after a deep sigh.
Polished shoes strut with brisk confidence below suit threads through soot-caked hallways. Exhausted breath flows like a breeze from our agent's mouth whilst he examines his surroundings in an exasperrated stupor. Coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he gently pushes this and nudges that to get a look at nothing in particular until finally finding something of importance.
"... Shit." Welsh would say upon spotting what he had hoped he wouldn't find. Engraved plain as day into the floorboards below, one small circle with an allotment of specific symbols lining its internal circumference. He slowly sets down his coffee and withdraws a bulky cell-phone from an internal coat pocket, pressing its red speed dial button.
"Yea... Gordon, this is Welsh... Yeah, no, I'm doing fine, same soup just re-heated... I thought it was suspicious as well. That's why I'm calling... Yep, I'm standing in it now.-"
Welsh continues the conversation whilst looking around his immediate vicinity for a second time. The morning wind blows gently in through a missing living room wall. Something of fire and fury certainly exploded from the fourth floor of the Fitzer Apartment building.
"-...Well, I'm thinking you should call the florists straight away. They don't like being brought in last minute, I'd rather overpay than lose the contract like last time. I'll get a team of analysts down here and you'll get the information soon. I'll have a full debrief for you tomorrow at eleven, your time... Yup, good luck, sir."
The phone clicks shut, being stowed lazily in its usual pocket. Welsh scratches the back of his neck, drawing in another cloud from his cigarette. Collecting your thoughts is an essential practice with the Earth's fate potentially being at immediate risk.
-------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------
It is the distant past. A trapeze of lightning and rain dance amidst the heaving heavens, sumptuous roars accompanied by hellish bellows amidst a stormy night. Here the devils dance, fire lighting their way beneath sheets of powdered ocean. Tribesmen of the Fempth family jump and howl aside the hidden stars above, a green flame swirling vacantly atop one logless firepit between eight shambling forms. The year is 78946 B.C., Earth, Post First-Calamity.
"He will shout and scream." This is an English interpretation of what was spoken. The original Fempth language was never spoken and always sung. For casual speech, they communicate via rhythmic sign language, which also translates into a sort of 'jargon' of percussion for their dances and historic hymns.
"Leee-yes, fuuultumpth, meeeskrallegth!" Were the untranslated words, sung at length in a slow triple-meter fashion. The first singer is a soprano, hitting sharp notes high in the human vocal range. Each word is pushed from a squeezed abdomen, her arms flailing upward whilst the rest of her body slowly falls before rising again at the beginning of the next line.
"He will leave with the blood of Pan."
"Leee-yes, Grouf, depthanooool!" The next to sing was a deep bass, rounding out the lower notes of our human register. He would jump upwards before landing, his final word being sung melismatically whilst bowing low to the Earth.
"And in Le-Yes's coming, the fury of heavenly bodies is quenched. And in Le-Yes's going, all but one of us is left in peace."
Borel Leee-Yes! Fulfa gampa neta-moar! Boral Leee-Yes! quasta yaway gulstaaaa!" This final line is sung by all eight performers present, their twirling bodies playing a contest with the sky in how loud they can scream and how viciously they can dance. This continues until the final phrase. All at once, they would bring their knees and faces to the dirt, and all at once, that luminous green flame in the middle of their encircled figures would vanish.
The dark of the night swallows them all, and time marches atop their inevitable corpses many days in the future. The notable fact about these peoples and their history is that they had both vocal and written accounts of all their rituals. The Fempth family, the true oracles.
-----------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------
"Hey, John! Get over here... You'll never believe this..." Called one woman to a nearby man, his desert-appropriate clothing bouncing over thin limbs as he approaches.
"Almost as much as I won't believe the find of a lifetime?" The man, John, would say. His tone was as excited as it was exhausted, every upbeat word being followed by a long and barely audible sigh.
"Oh come on, don't let it get to you! We came for vacation, we stayed for work. It's as simple as that!" John would stare at the woman blankly for several moments, letting her sly excitability overtake his lack of legitimate vacation time. She was beautiful, and everything to him.
"Okay, Sarah, what is it?" John would eventually ask, inquiring about whatever it was he had originally been called over for. Even while she answered, his eyes never left her.
"Look at this! It's a written account of what they call a 'Farsight' ritual. They keep referencing something, 'Le-Yes', at the beginning of each line." Sarah would trace her thin finger over a stone-carved tablet, having been partially uncovered with fine brushes and tools.
"Let me see." John shields his eyes from the beating sun as he turns towards the nearby text pointed out to him by Sarah.
"What is it?" Would come the quick response to John's spoken thoughts.
"Well..-" He would patiently begin in a slow and calm voice, enjoying how his friend could hardly keep herself from wanting to know more about these ancient peoples. "-in the context it means something like, 'World-Breaker'."
"What's this line at the end of the poem?" She'd say, pointing at the bottom of the tablet.
"Oh, it's a date, around a decade from now. Summer of 2023 A.D. by the looks of it." He would say, finding it humorous that these people thought they could peer so far through time with any amount of success. This married couple would have quite the time analyzing their findings in the years to come.
-----------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------
Gothic candles? Check.
Authentic book of summoning? Check.
Killer Attitude? Check.
Destiny Miller was running through her pre-social checklist. She had been planning to host tonight's event for quite some time, having tossed the thought around her head more than a beach ball at a Nickleback concert as a method to sane during history lectures at her local community college. The group she had fallen in with wasn't ideal, but, on the spectrum of young adults practicing the occult, they certainly aren't the worst.
These were the occult practitioners that had picked up the profession to impress someone, pass the time, or rebel against family-imposed dogma. Typically, looking into a night like this would end in some minor drama and pleasant memories to carry into later-adulthood. Regrettably for our current group, tonight could hardly be called normal in any respectable sense.
DING-DING! Destiny's phone chimes with an incoming call, the screens time reading as 10:13PM-EST during its the slow ascent to her blushing cheek.
"I'm at the door! Let's do this, bitch!" Destiny's first friend to arrive, Shawn, gay as ever and sounding at least slightly drunk, was waiting to be buzzed into the building below.
"I'll buzz you in, see you soon, bitch!" Destiny would shout excitedly, stepping with near-hops to her door whilst hanging up the phone and putting it on to a nearby table.
"We carpooled,-" Shawn would state loudly upon bursting into Destiny's fourth-floor apartment along with everyone else who had agreed to arrive tonight.
"I'm so glad you made it!" Destiny would scream as the various members of her friend group came into the two-bedroom apartment.
The five of them would gossip about this weeks happenings between beers before coming to the event of the night. Time passes full of nervous chatter and the hushed practicing of some strange incantations while a circle of candles is lit in the middle of the floor. The sun is down and the time reads 11:44 PM.
"Okay Destiny, you start." Shawn would say anxiously, all five of the friends present exchanging anxious glances after Destiny is given permission to initiate a haphazard ritual.
"Ooo-hoo-hoolahm-" Destiny begins the first line of her chant, nearly laughing after hearing the strange and melodic sound leave her mouth and make her chest vibrate.
"-oooooohoolahm!" They all join in, knowing they have to repeat the phrase in unison eleven more times if they are to successfully summon a spirit from the other world and make a request.
Once over, nothing happens.
Twice over, still nothing.
Three times of repetition and all they can feel is their boredom slowly growing.
Four times and Shawn is the first to break from the chant.
"This blows, Destiny!" Shawn would say, rather loudly, during the fifth chant. This is where unexpected results began are achieved.
Destiny feels a tingling across her body, waves of warm sensation spread like a blanket over and under her tired skin. She could feel herself absorbing waves of heat with eyes still closed. The world was gone entirely up until the worried voice of Shawn pierced her perceptual radius for a second time.
"Destiny...?" Shawn would say, worry and awe dripping slowly into open air from his trembling lips. This is what brought Destiny back into the waking world, where she was quite literally glowing a bright white and floating several feet from the ground.
"Guys! I'm floa-" Destiny never finished her remark, not before the worst was to occur.
Fire and light begins to spill from Destiny's mouth, her body breaking apart and exploding suddenly in a fury of heat and strange miasma. The nebulas smoke left behind fills the lungs of her remaining friends between shouts and panicked breathing, poisoning them in strange and otherworldly ways.
Flesh begins to split inside of cotton clothing and laced shoes as Shawn, along with the four remaining friends, howl in pain between spastic convulsions. Blackish ooze seeps from their eyes and ears as small glowing tendrils of grasslike consistency begin to split from between their muscles and into the air conditioned space around them, spraying a previously clean environment with an assortment of crude bodily fluids. The bloody mist and otherworldly smoke eventually clears to reveal vastly mutated creatures of the night, their oozing claws and bulbous eyes bubbling with the violent froth of an unnatural form.
Unexpectedly, a new face had joined the group. Ushered in from nothing was a masculine figure wearing workers coveralls, a backpack, and laced-up boots.
"A misfire?" The man would casually say aloud as if he were casually thinking aloud at his day job. He is left alone in this fourth floor apartment with a care free attitude and five monsters of the Lovecraftian variety.
---------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------------------------------
Walking from the towering complex of Council Auxilliary forces is a masculine figure. Lez-Yez, one member of such a force, walks with purpose towards his allocated transportation pad.
"..Hmph, guard duty?" Lez-Yez would think aloud during the reading of his orders, flipping casually through an official-looking pamphlet provided by his superior officer. Something about guiding a target to some big tournament and making sure no one sabotages them between rounds. This should be simple, or at least, relatively simple compared to previous assignments.
Lez-Yez eventually stops just above a circular pad, its metallic surface coming to life with a melodic hum and ivory glow. An automated voice chimes in to provide gentle instructions.
"Welcome, transport pad D34 will fill travel ticket G-H-K67. Please stand by." The voice cuts off as the ivory glow consumes Lez-Yez completely. The glow would eventually end abruptly, pad D34 being left empty as Lez-Yez is sent to travel far across the cosmos.
Our man had taken a teleportation pad to his assigned duties. Normally this transportation is predesignated and harmless for everyone involved. Regrettably this occasion was not quite as clean as past events would predict. Lez-Yez wasn't entirely sure until he arrived, but, something was clearly amiss.
What would have been a quick flash of light and a slight shift of gravity suddenly twisted and spun with blue hues and strange sounds. Before he could tell what was going on, Lez-Yez found himself standing on the fourth-floor of Fitzer apartments, room D26.
"A misfire?" Felph would think aloud, realizing something had gone wrong around same time he realized that he's surrounded by some rather distasteful entities.
"GergshlRAH!" The first of five beasts lunge at Lez-Yez who arrived in a momentary chariot of white and blue light. He moves in response with a reflexive palm strike to the beast's chest, organs exploding from it's back after colliding with extreme physical strength.
Lez-Yez withdraws a device from his left pocket and points it at the next closest abomination in one smooth motion. His index fingers presses a small trigger on the side of the device once after being pointed at each of the four nearby nightmares that have slowly begun lurching towards their guest.
da-da-da-BOOM! like thunder after lightning, four quick flashes of explosive power envelop the entirety of this apartment, smoldering flames flowing freely as one living room wall explodes from the Fitzer and onto the vacant sidewalk below. Standing freely in the inferno of D26 is Lez-Yez, unharmed and placing his pistol-Esque sidearm back into its respective pocket.
"Wrong side of the planet...?" Lez-Yez would think aloud again after withdrawing a small spherical orb from his pocket to examine its surface. The flames and smoke did nothing to hinder his eyesight or movements as he casually checks the orb near his assailant's disintegrated corpses. Eventually, he would leave, leaping with ease from the fourth floor and onto the street below.
He lands with a loud "bang!" creating a small crack on the parking lot pavement the bore the impact of his dense weight. Without missing a beat, Lez-Yez would begin sprinting a brisk pace into the night air and over any obstacles before him with leaps and bounds beyond what most any human is capable of.
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Feel free to shoot me a DM or leave a post if you made it this far and you are still interested!
