Birdboy — Roleplayer Guild

Party

Doctor_Buttz
LVL: 10
HP: 32
MP: 50

G3O_VAN
LVL: 5
HP: 25
MP: 7/10

"Yeah, the frogs." 

Doc replied, accepting the reductive way Geo described the gargling monsters of old. Doc couldn't blame him; in many ways, the bird man was right. Doc could not find the words to express the dread they still felt hearing the chorus of strange, warbling warcries back in the day. They did flinch at Geo calling the game 'old'. Were they old? The games they played as youths seemed to be. The game was old even when they started, though, perhaps they were just an old soul. 

The concept of power did not appeal to Doc, tempting as it was. They had tried biting off a bit more than they could chew and regretted it. Perhaps the wound was still fresh and stung too viciously, but they were humbled and ready to take the straight and narrow and play the game out as the devs had intended now. Power-grinding could be saved for their next toon.

Geo crouched down, and Doc followed similarly. They couldn't see the bird's face behind their mask, but Doc suspected their eyes would flash with a fire the programming of the game could not properly portray. Doc nodded to them, talking tactics, agreeing that Geo could not solo the whole squad.
"I won't let them surround you. I've got your back." Doc sounded far more certain of themself when saying this, the conviction in their voice contrasting the lackluster and tired way they had spoken thus far.

Soon enough, Geo was instigating the fight. They used their ability to once again taunt a target bandit, and while it did not confuse them this time, the bandit grabbed its weapon, which was resting on the side of the barricade, this one holding a shovel, and rushed forward. Doc couldn't help but smile at the use of his ally's abilities, exploiting the game's AI like a pro. Doc pulled up their dukes and stood just a meter behind Geo. Close enough to react and join in the fight, but not enough to disturb the fight or block Geo from swinging their spear properly.

As the bandit neared, their charge turned into slower, more cautious steps. They readied the shovel like a spear, gripped firmly in both hands, held low at the hip with the metallic point leveled with their foe. As they neared range, with Geo the bandit lunged, flinging the shovel head forward with shocking speed toward the avian's abdomen. The initial attack was fast, but the recovery would not be, as the shovel head was heavy and left the foe off balance and exposed as they thrust it forward.

The knightly hero huffed and puffed long after his brisk run up the stairs, struggling to keep it hidden from the others as best he could. His armpits were already starting to sweat profusely, and his hands weren't much better. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, not just from the initial jog but now from his nerves. Here he was, in a veritable city of heroes, rubbing elbows with others dressed in costumes just like him. He looked around the group. They seemed to be mostly around the same age as him. A short youngster blitzed around them; his powers were easy to figure out. The others were more anomalous. One looked like she might be a ninja, another like he might be a cowboy. They all looked so much cooler than Dermont felt in this moment. He was the only one with a paunch, and as far as he could tell, the others were lacking his sweating nervousness. 

Steele thine nerves Dermont, Thou art a knight not a knave

For once Nothung had given him something other than a scolding, and Dermont found solace in the blade's words. If a sentient sword of legend had faith in him, then he could find faith in himself as well. His confidence was bolstered enough that when he noticed the woman waiting in the lobby who clearly was a hero too he tried to wave to her, but quickly lost the nerve when he realized she was not paying attention. He gently rested his hand on the hilt as they were met with the most dangerous foe of all: bureaucracy. 

Dermont vaguely remembered this man, but ultimately, he looked like every other businessman he had seen before. Old, boring, and somewhat tired. The only real shocker about his appearance was his smile. How often did people wearing suits smile like that, so genuinely? Dermont found himself lost in thought about the stranger until the others began asking questions. The kind that Dermont had not even thought to ask and was internally cursing himself for forgetting. 

Bah! Pedantics, whenst evil rears its fetid head, we shall dispatch of it under any means necessary, aye Dermont?

Dermont didn't respond. One their first day with these other heroes it was not a good look to start speaking to yourself. Instead, he nodded ambiguously both to Nothungs statement and to the questions at hand, only raising his hand to pitch in after Cameron spoke up.
"I have to second the fridge idea" He said, before quickly adding a question of his own in a much meeker tone.
"And uh, we do get paid, right?"

A hero dost not take handouts!

Nothung's voice boomed in his head, causing Dermont to flinch, but he gritted his teeth and endured the further scolding. He needed money; even if he was a hero, it would be if he were still an unemployed mooch. Whether or not they were, he still moved to stand besides this balding man, now standing beside the goggle-wearing woman.

Birdboy Member

Feathered freakshow

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts