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    1. druidquest 4 yrs ago
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3 yrs ago
Current monkey want mahou shoujo
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4 yrs ago
monkey want fate rp
4 yrs ago
apparently i can leave myself visitor messages so thats a good system
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"No." Maíre stepped forward with her interjection, positioned between Silver Fang and Lazy-Cap. "We have larger priorities than to kiss and make up with your big man."

She turned her gaze sidelong toward Bayushi, the faint shimmer of her iris reticles visible under her hood. "My mission was to find and retrieve you quickly, and enough time has already been lost chasing after you. I won't waste more playing tag along with side quests."

A broken comms device appeared in her hand, and Maíre tossed it to Bayushi. "You still have your own mission with a target still at large, remember?"
Silencer







Color Code: Red - #e80202











Maeve Butler







Color Code: Olive - #443f13


Maíre turned at the sound of the man's voice, a faint cloud of silver dust appearing by her hand when she saw who it was. "Lazy-cap," she greeted, eyes scanning the area around him. "We were just leaving. I'm sure you have larger messes to attend to."

There was movement to her left. Was Bayushi... sliding? It was faint, but she was definitely drifting from where she had stopped. The big man's "roommate" must have done something. Her hand came up, gripping the rear collar of Silver Fang's armor to keep her still.
Máire twirled a sword languidly in one hand, stepping through piles of dismembered flesh-turned metal. She’d seen their kind too many times. People turning themselves into weapons… it was as disgusting as it ever was. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a pool of oil and blood, lingering on it only briefly before smearing it away with her foot.

There were still battles waging elsewhere in the settlement. If Silver Fang were here, she would likely be where the fighting was thickest. She would look for the heart of the violence, where people were most in danger. Assuming she was still here, of course.

Máire’s sword vanished into silver dust, disappearing back beneath her skin as she scanned the nearby buildings for a decent vantage point to spot her quarry from. They were all short, barely more than a couple stories tall. Honestly, it almost reminded her of-

D̴̡̡̢͈͖͇̖̩̳͈̼̺̞̻͔̟͆̓͛̀̏̀͆̔̋̑ǫ̷̛̠͎̖̜̟̮̤͎̙̩̖̱̩̬̲̬̥̭͓̯̱̪̤͓̝̰͚͇̌̈́̋͐͑̓̾̒̍͑̿̃͂̍̑͂̏͐̐̔͝͝n̷̡̧̧̨̝̼̦̟̫͍͇̖̺̼̟̲͉̟̰̜͉̹̞̱͔͑̃́̌̊̀͐̈́͑͜͝ͅͅͅ'̶̛̼̮͍̰̟̘̮̤͖̱̥̥͈̖̲͗̽̐̑̏́̿͆̈̓̌́̍̋̓̂͜͝͝t̴̢̧̟̝̙̣̟̗̲̞͇͍̖͇̮̠̪̙̦̎͑̎̌͌̈́͗̈́̽̆̑̆̓͂̕͜.̶̨̢̥̱̼̰͖̙̫̘͊͋̆̋́͊̓͠͝

A flash of silver rocketed skyward at the corner of her vision, drawing her gaze like a motion camera. Bayushi? Had to be. One of Máire’s blades manifested and rocketed forward, her arm trailing behind as it carried her in its wake.

The planet got blown up, and it wasn’t our fault. We’re calling it the Upspring - a massive flood of light, or crystal, or water, or whatever it looks like to you, erupted out of the ground, splitting our planet completely in half, northwest to southeast across Nepal’s northern border, bisecting poor Mount Everest in the process. A vast, cosmic wall of magic - not radiation, Magic - flowing across reality, changing the sundered world, mindlessly and unpredictably.

Things shifted. Humanity most immediately, hard and fast, some more than others but enough that the word “human” all but lost its meaning. We figured out what happened to the rest afterward. Still are, in places. (expand- awkward) Plants, animals, rocks. Oil’s too dangerous to be useful, now. Hungry. And let’s not get into what happens when that magic mixes with radiation. When we say magic’s everywhere, we mean everywhere.

We haven’t fully recovered - getting the world cut in half was only the beginning, and magic making a reappearance brought a lot of new dangers with it. An estimated three billion dead makes it hard to bounce back. Countries disappeared practically overnight, others got restructured or replaced. But we make the most of it. Worked out how to put magic to use for us, making it our new energy source, even figured out how to beat it into our machines to make them more effective. The Upspring might have blown us back a century or two in some ways, but our technology has leapt forward just as far in others.

Commercial space flight is a regular thing now - sort of has to be, to get over the Wall - not that we’re any closer to traveling the stars. The old fantasy of colonies on the moon is also going to stay a fantasy. The less we have to do with the moons - either one of the damned things - the better. The shard islands floating around the Wall do have cities on them, however, almost by necessity. Mages with their observatories to study the Wall, port towns facilitating travel and trade between the sundered halves. Some of them have managed to do well enough that they’ve even formed their own independent city-states, like New Honolulu.

The New Hono Anchor Complex might not be the biggest in the skies, but it’s definitely growing. Plenty of work for anyone who needs it, legal or not. Smuggling, salvaging, monster hunting, all have a presence in that sheltered harbor.




Welcome to Worldbreaker, a post-apocalyptic urban fantasy roleplay set on a contemporary Earth split in half by the return of magic. It’s become a world where guns are magic implements, oil is haunted by the ghosts of dinosaurs, scavengers use scraped together mecha to fight monsters, and magic and radiation mix to spawn strange new lifeforms.

Salvage old world tech for repair and resale or hunt monsters to feed the neighborhood, but be aware you aren’t the most dangerous thing stalking the ruins. Immerse yourself in the world of magic, just keep your head above the surface. Explore just how much the world has been changed by the Upspring, or just do what you can to make rent this month. The new world is your oyster, the story yours to create.

Just don’t look at the moon.




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Máire sent up a cloud of ash as she hit the ground on the other side of the portal, her arm flipping her back into the air and landing her on her feet. She only had time to cast a quick glance at her surroundings before a new cacophony of alarms ripped her attention back toward Shieldtown, a glimmering blue dome on the horizon. Five miles out? No, closer to seven. Far enough that she wouldn’t be getting back quickly on foot.

Máire’s eyes dropped to the portal, now barely the size of a baseball. She thrust her hand back into the blackness, her arm severing below the elbow as it closed. She had done what she could, now. If Máire had misjudged and SIlver Fang hadn’t come through here, she would at least have a way of getting back on track.

She turned back toward the wastes, the near-imperceptible reticles of her eyes turning back and forth as they scanned the area for the ever-dwindling energy signature of the Ripper she was hunting. Silver Fang was meant to be one of the Templar’s finest; doubtless if Máire had picked up the trail with a starting lag, Fang was already on the cusp of running them down.

Her HUD tagged something. Not a Ripper. It looked like a woman, not far from where Máire had come through the portal, marching through the dust. A sword lanced through the air, and Máire was pulled after it.




Máire’s hand flopped into the damp floor of the sewer like an undesired sea bass, tips of her fingers dangling over the water flow. It sat still for a moment, silver dust drifting silently off the stump where it had been severed by the portal. Then the dust froze in mid air, hanging in the shards of light poking through the open manhole cover, before reversing direction and rejoining the amputated limb.

The hand bulged and shifted, silver sand flowing over itself as it reformatted and rebuilt itself into a new form resembling a lizard, its head replaced by a stumpy, featureless tendril that raised itself up to the air as though trying to catch a scent. The metallic “reptile” then twisted itself around, reorienting its direction, before skittering up the wall of the sewer and back through the manhole, vanishing onto the streets above with astonishing velocity for what should have by rights been a dead hand rotting with the sewage.
”Attention Residents. Thunderdome procedures have been engaged. All non-combatants are advised to seek shelter immediately. Any sign of suspicious activity, Gangers, or unknown powers are to be reported to the nearest authorities available. This is not a drill.”


Máire’s stag nickered as the alert blasted over their heads, halting and kicking at the road with one splayed hoof. Máire’s eyes went skyward, taking in the vast neon dome spreading overhead, sealing off the rest of the undercity.

Sealing them in.

It was all very familiar to her. There were similar protocols plateside, of course, but more than anything it reminded her…

She shook her head, pulling the hood a bit lower. Some kind of threat had breached Shieldtown’s walls, then? Her eyes flashed toward Zolya at the woman’s comment, her lips tightening into a thin line. No, if something was happening, of course Fang wouldn’t keep still. She would be chasing down whatever had provoked that alert, no doubt. No, the quickest way to catch the runaway hero was for Máire to find the woman’s quarry first.

Máire hopped up from her mount, feet finding purchase on the stag’s back. ”Signal if you find her,” she stated, glancing Zolya’s way one last time before leaping high into the air. A flash of metal shot through the sky, and Máire went sailing after it, past the rooftops lining Shieldtown’s main thoroughfare.
Shieldtown was no less busy than it had been the night before. The bustle of industry filled the dusty air of the Undercity settlement, if a bit more orderly than the chaos following the previous day’s monster hunt. The crowd flowed around them like river water as Scibble-Ma’am - Zolya, she had introduced herself - led their entourage through the streets, her mint-light wolves flanking them like a barrier. Máire raised an eyebrow at the apparent disinterest the locals took in the sight; but then given their apparent source of protein, such sights must seem rather ordinary. Máire seemed to draw more attention than the wolves did, and she pulled her hood a bit lower despite herself.

Máire turned her attention upward, toward the buildings surrounding the paths Zolya took them along. Many of them were familiar from her… tour with the boy Doll. The order was different, though; they seemed far less cramped and repetitive than they had the first time, with far fewer twisting alleyways and dead ends.

Does this friend of yours live far from the wall?” she asked, looking toward her most recent guide. The woman seemed so comfortable on her mount that the light bounce of her hair with every step the animal took struck Máire as almost playful.
”The stag is fine,” Máire answered, crossing her arms. She had never ridden a horse before, but if the beast was one of this woman’s constructs, she doubted she needed to know how. She could have traveled under her own power, but if Scribble-Ma’am was watching Silver Fang it would save herself a lot of trouble to keep near her if the skittish Texan decided to run off again.
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