DruSM157

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

Mr. Cobalt. More specific than red and far less regal than gold, Alvin assumed the moniker fit him well enough. He was too lost in his thoughts on his mission to take notice of the young Chinese woman joining him and the literal giant of a man. Had he been in a calmer mind, he would probably have recognized her from his own walks throughout the University on less-dreary days. Though the days of late had been exceedingly dreary, both in weather and in an emotional sense. The one thing he did focus his eye on as the coachman beckoned them to climb aboard was the shotgun, bathed in the shadows, but still noticeable with the lantern-light. Arkham was far from the safest town in America, of course, but what cause did a man need to carry a shotgun so openly? What exactly awaited them at Wilde Hall?

Alvin snapped his mind back to the real world and nodded to the young woman and large man. "I would hardly be a gentleman if I did not allow the young lady on the carriage first," he remarked to Rosanna. That was something of a bald-faced lie. He came from working-class Irish immigrants, and their only claim to "gentle" behavior was not starting fights at Sunday mass and keeping quiet when their father came home red-faced and drunk. He then turned to the hulking Drachen, "and since I was the last to arrive, it's only right to climb aboard last." He tried to not let the man's enormous visage worry him too much. If they had all worked they wait to receive invitations to this party, they were all probably good sorts, even if some looked beastly. He did wonder how comfortable sitting in a carriage would be for a man that large. Still, there was something comforting about having a companion as dangerous looking as this fellow; if he stayed on his good side, he doubted anyone would try and start trouble around him.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: The Laughing Warg Tavern-- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Benkei had spent many full days in the Laughing Warg, piling over maps, discussing and trading information with various traders and traveling wayfarers, and doing his part to try and set up work for the rest of the group. "We have to start pulling our own weight here because, at this point, we're in the same boat as the people living in these cities. There's no reason to rile them up and have them chase us with pitchforks and torches. That had been his main fear lately, especially after seeing what the Matron was capable of doing. Seigfried lived, but that had only been the start of the tension between the two.

"If we don't go out there and close that dungeon, we will have an army of monsters at the gates of the city! There will be nowhere to run or hide!

"And there's no way in hell I'm dragging my sister into a place like that just to die!"

Tensions ran high that day, but things had never gotten as bad as it had between Benkei, Kazuma, and Graves. Between them, things were...better, to say the least. And with Graves off on the job for the city, he could work off that aggression on the monsters, regardless of how weak they were.

But that was the point. The only thing anyone felt comfortable doing was taking on the safest tasks, the ones where the threat of death was almost completely impossible. If only the dungeons had been like that, they would be able to find comfort and safety in this place. But that threat kept looming. Benkei read over a letter he'd sent for and sighed. Another village was lost. He went to the map of Thorinn's lands, and crossed out a large red X over the area the village was supposed to be. How many was that now, three? And they were moving closer to the larger towns.

How much longer until refugees began pouring into the city? Where would they stay? And how many beasts would be following them behind? His mind wandered back to the wounded dire bat from the dungeon, and wondered how many people the creature could have killed if it had left the dungeon with no wounds? How many players could that thing kill? How many denizens? Just sitting around and waiting for someone from the game to appear and tell them everything would be fine wasn't working. And he'd still heard no word back from the party that had left. He'd begged them to wait just a little longer until they could get a large fighting force with healers and supplies, but no. This was their duty. And when the time came to venture to the dungeon, would they bury them outside it, just like they'd done for their friends?

And if they died too, who would bury them?

Gundam 0094 (Invite Only Roleplay)

U.C. 0079, January 15th

_{Sydney Australia}

---

Talk of the war was distant in the morning, with the hazy heat of the Australian climate mixed with the hustle and bustle of the metropolis. Tensions were high, especially when newspapers reported on the nearly billion deaths in some of the colonies. Nuclear arms, nerve gas, mass murder...there was a solid question of exactly who were the villains in this situation.

Many newspapers held exposes on the Zabi family, and the drama surrounding their rise to power in Side 3. The Australian Times even had the charismatic Ghiren Zabi front and center; with the tagline ”Ghiren Zabi, the Next Great Orator? Or Next Great Dictator?” There had been a sense of excitement around the major cities. Would there be a great war? Would they see federation fighters flying overhead? What would the 80’s bring?

They were only 21 years away from the end of the first century in the Universal Century. Would they need to rename it after all? The Universal Millenium? Life continued on. Cars honked, birds flew, and it was peaceful. But in some neighborhoods, dogs seemed nervous, pulling at their chains. Rats scurried out of alleyways. Something was coming.

And then it broke the sky, like a devil descending in the fires of the apocolypse. For those on the ground, they would be unable to even make out the name “Island Iffish” from the side of the superstructure. It fell, but its velocity seemed stagnated as if the inevitable end was coming in slow motion, increasing the terror from below.

Screams. Prayers. Silence. It was all deafened by the nuclear explosion as the reactors went critical on the colony piece. And in seconds, the city was gone. The continent would shake; tsunamis would break down flooding coastal areas in Asia, Africa and even North America. But worst of all was the effect of the animals: the fragile ecosystem of Australia would be ravaged by the effects of the colony. By U.C. 0082, most of the species in Australia would be extinct.

---

U.C. 0079, January 15th

_{North America}

---

The house stood atop a small hill, and overlooked more hills of green. It was comfortable, it was beautiful and it was nice. The father had worked for years to save up enough to purchase the home, and he was happy, if only for a moment, to find himself away from war and conflict to celebrate with his family.

”Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Jon-” The earth shook, and the singing stopped. The singer, a large man with broad shoulders and a bushy beard, quickly set the cake onto a table and took his child into his arms. ”It’s okay, it’s just an Earthquake,” he reassured his son, as he pulled the elementary-aged child under the large wooden table of the house.

The shockwaves came next. Glass shattered; the windows, the television, picture frames; everything. His son began to scream. He held him tighter. The walls of the house creaked. The sound of wood splintered broke through the deafening ringing in the father’s ears. And then, everything began to collapse. The world broke into thunder, and the roof fell in with an earth-shattering crash. No one knew what had happened; but only a hundred miles north, sections of the Island Iffish colony had fallen onto parts of southern Canada and the United States. Even though they were far away from any major chemical damage, the shockwave itself shook the land, and caused mass destruction in its wake.

Darkness enveloped the two for what seemed like hours. The boy roused first, barely able to move. There was so much weight over him. His father’s weight. ”Dad,” he grunted, shaking the older man, ”Dad, wake up.” It was when he noticed the blood dripping from his father’s bushy beard that he realized what had happened. In the darkness, with only his father’s body keeping him warm, the boy began to weep.

How long had the boy been in the darkness with his father’s corpse? Hours? Days? Weeks? Time lost meaning in the pain and darkness. But eventually, after an eternity where tears could no longer fall from his face, the sounds of life returned. And then, after the fluttering of bird wings, the howling of dogs, he heard the sound of tires, the slamming of doors, and the sounds of human life.

“Check the rubble! The Major is supposed to be here!” Wood, stone, the shifting of the world buried on top of the boy filled his ears. Light began to trickle from small holes above him. He wanted to speak, but he could make no sound.

“There’s someone here!”

Light erupted around him, and the cold wind of day beat the cold darkness away.

---

U.C. 0094, March 3rd

_{Asteroid Field}

The Federation Carrier Belarus had been traveling for six weeks now. Six weeks of quiet, boring travel, and most of the crew on board enjoyed it. This was your standard trading mission; delivering supplies and gear for Mars in exchange for food supplies for the colony. An easy trade; and something they were happy to do. After the events of the second Neo Zeon war, things had been stressful over the convoy lines. Fears of terrorist factions emboldened by the war brought an air of tension for these low-armored convoys. They had no need for a heavy escort, after all, they were delivering frozen corn and potatoes, not weapons. Still, they had whatever old suits they could spare. A few GM-IIs, old relics from the 80s. They were still better than a Ball.

“Sir,” the communications officer spoke on the bridge, “Sensors are picking up heavy Minovsky particles in the area. Should we go on-”

Something shook the craft. An explosion?

The captain grimaced. “All stations, let’s go ahead and enter red alert. Everyone needs to put on a normal suit, now.”

One hour later…

“Uhhh….Remia? Can you check the navigation charts? I’m getting a lot of minovsky particles in the area. Like...a lot.”

”Kellen, you are the biggest coward in the entire universe.” The young woman sighed, pushing up her glasses. ”Our job is to salvage combat sites. There’s always going to be some residual particle-oh.” The woman was surprised to see the density of the particles. They’d just missed a battle. She clicked a comms unit. ”Salvage team 1, go ahead and suit up. We’ve got some fresh corpses to gut.

In the hangar bay, several suits began to power up. One eye glew from a mobile worker, Another from the head of a Rick Dias.

The Rick Dias head, attached to a patchwork body and other MS parts, stepped onto the catapult first. “Marlowe Voltus,” the voice from the junky mech echoed around the hangar bay, “Launching!”

***

”It looks like a massacre,” the voice from the Ball echoed in Marlowe’s cockpit. “There’s a feddie ship and a zeon ship. But the weird thing...they’re both cargo vessels.”

”Do you think they fought each other?

”No. Looking at the angle of the damage; it looks like they were both attacked at the same time. Still, there’s no sign of any other craft or mobile suits that aren’t Fed or Zeon.”

”So it was a total wipe.”

”That means keep your head on a swivel. Go ahead and call the others and the retrieval team.”

”Wait! Look!” Marlowe raised his mobile suit’s arm to point at the wreckage. “There’s someone there!”

In the open hangar bay the broken ship with a Republic of Zeon crest, a gray Geara Doga pressed against the bay, its beam machine gun held ready to fire at anything that came too close. As they approached, the Mobile Suit aimed at them.

”Wait! Wait! We’re salvagers! We’re civilians!

”Wait, look in the distance! It’s verniers!” The color of the verniers of multiple mobile suits appeared in the field, all becoming smaller and smaller. Perhaps the sudden arrival of the Cathartes and its crew was enough to scare them off. For now, at least.

***

Two hours later

The survivors of the both ships were huddled in the mess hall of the Cathartes, alongside most of the crew. At the center, sitting on a metal chair, was an old man. His hair had long gone gray, and his face was wizened. His hands were gnarled from years of working on machines, but the crew gave him enough reverence as the head of a family. After all, he was the captain.

“Welcome to our home, the Cathartes,” the old man began, addressing the survivors. They’d given them warm thermoses of coffee and soup; something that several engineers complained about. “We’re sorry to hear about your encounter with pirates. It seems this sector is becoming more and more dangerous. Our job is to salvage destroyed ships, and to re-acquire important documents, materials and people that have been left behind after battle. Since the attacks from this mysterious pirate group have become more regular around these parts, we’ve been sent here to clean up, so to speak.”

He motioned to the various uniforms, and the accusatory glances several gave to one another. “On this ship, we gave up our affiliation when we became salvagers. We ask that you treat this ship like neutral ground. Here there is no Federation or Republic of Zeon. It’s just this old Vulture and her crew.” He stared down the people in the room. “That means we leave our egos at the door and we focus on the job. Which now-” he said, pressing a button on a round disc set on one of the tables. A holographic star chart appeared in front of the crowd. “-is delivering you all, and our salvage to the Mars station. There you can contact the Earthsphere and charter passage. We won’t charge you for ferrying you there, because we’re kind and-” the old man grinned. “Your scrap is worth enough.”

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

doublepostwhocares

Taken so far in no particular order:

Fool
Priestess
Emperor
Hanged Man
Temperance
Sun
Moon
Star
Devil
Death prolly

@Hero

That's a lotta characters

A lot of boy characters

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

@DruSM157

@Potemking

SOMEONE GETS MY DUMB JOKE

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

A New World Fool

5'7| 60.1 kg | 16 | 2nd year | Male

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

Quiet and unassuming, Hiroichi seems like a kind and open young man-and that isn't a false mask. He is caring, but underneath his kind exterior is a mass of complexes. Hiroshi is constantly questioning himself, his ability as a student, and his place in the world, especially when dealing with the recent loss of his mother. He suffers from extreme imposter syndrome. It's due to this self-destructive mindset that he puts too much of himself in his schoolwork, and will overexert himself, especially around mid-terms and finals. He keeps very few close friendships because of this, throwing himself into his work because of his belief that he's "failing his family" if he falls below the top 10 in his class.

ＡＲＣＡＮＡ

The Fool

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡ

Faust, from the legends of Dr. Faustus, the doctor who traded his soul for knowledge. Different stories tell different sides of the doctor, from portraying him as a con man and sinner to someone who wants to use his forbidden knowledge to help the world. Faust takes the appearance of a male figure wearing black robes, carrying a demonic tome in his hands.

ＳＫＩＬＬＳ

• Bufu
• Eiha
• Pulpina

ＴＲＡＮＳＦＯＲＭＡＴＩＯＮ

Hiroichi dons flowing magus robes with infernal symbols painted over his clothing.

ＷＥＡＰＯＮ

Hiroichi specializes in clubs, from sports equipment to maces.

ＨＩＳＴＯＲＹ

A prodigy. A brilliant boy. Born for greatness. Hiroichi spent his childhood hearing his family speak about him to others as if he was some perfect angel. Hiroichi came from a relatively poor family, and due to his natural talent and intelligence, found himself with countless opportunities for greatness. And then the car accident occurred, taking his mother from him. His father grew withdrawn after the tragedy, rarely coming home from work, and their house became filthier with every passing day. Hiroichi kept up appearances at school, still attempting to appear like the boy wunderkind, but even then he began to drop from 1st in his class to 3rd, then 5th. Since his behavior at school was still quiet and unassuming, no one reached out, isolating him further from others.

ＭＩＳＣ

Former top student in the 2nd year, now somewhere around 7-8th in the class.

Drew's testy place.

Wild Expanse: A Sci-Fi Western Concept

Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying. -Arthur C Clarke.

There was a ton of human lore about first contact. Hopeful stories, war sagas, horror flicks. Each had its own take on when mankind would finally reach out into the reaches of the endless sea of space and make its mark. But the most common theory was the one that seemed truest when we began to seed other planets: the Fermi Paradox. Humans had been searching for signals from other lifeforms for centuries as they colonized planet after planet, and each time it remained dead silent.

We assumed we were the only intelligent life out there.

We were wrong.

It wasn’t a galactic conflict or some great war. It was a massacre. Countless human colonies were destroyed. The intergalactic highway we’d developed crushed in an instant. Fermi assumed other intergalactic civilizations would have killed themselves. He could never have imagined the might or the cruelty of the Rhelnast Empire. They had no interest in our resources, our people, or our technology. They just wanted to make sure they were the only player on an intergalactic scale.

Humanity was forced to flee the Milky Way. The old colonies, even our mother planet of Earth, were lost to us. But in the wild reaches uncharted space we found other races like us. Others had been crushed underfoot, eking out an existence in the wilderness of uncharted stars—a new frontier loaded with interstellar immigrants, making a mark on these wild galaxies.

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

Alvin reached into his coat and clutched the small leather-bound notebook in his breast-pocket. Inside the journal lay his invitation to Wilde Hall, and perhaps answers that he had been seeking. In the distance, he saw the carriage that would ferry him to the party, and two figures ready to enter the carriage. Would they wait for him or leave him behind? Was this the only carriage going to the party? The thoughts raced Alvin's mind as his heartbeat began to increase, the ever-looming anxiety of the unknown already pounding his thoughts like the beat of a soldier's drum. Should he force himself to be sociable? Perhaps they would have more information on this soiree, perhaps they would turn their knows at the pale, skinny man attempting to rub shoulders with the elite. He definitely did not look the part of a well-to-do man around Arkham. His black coat seemed a size too large for his thin frame, and his dark mask, with a product, corvid-like beak, gave him the image of a thin, giant dying bird than that of a man.

It wasn't that he lacked friends; it was that his usual group of friends all shared something in common: University Life. Alvin had spent many nights in the local bars with his college fellows, enjoying a glass of beer and stark discussion of their studies with one another. Alvin was studying linguistics at Miskatonic and specialized in strange languages that were offshoots of ancient tounges. He'd assisted Dr. Armitage as part of studies in translating strange books of the occult, something that more unnerved him than fascinated him. Professor Wilmarth, with who he'd done multiple classes, had him focused on differentiating the local Indian languages in their folklore of the area, trying to trace the stores back to some ur-narrative. That had been unproductive, but at the very least, interesting to Alvin. The professors at Miskatonic were by and far men of rationality and many had sought to instill their students with the understanding that all things in the world could be easily explained with sufficient evidence and understanding.

Alvin wished dearly that this was true.

He had made his decision. He stepped his pace to a faster procession, hoping to catch the carriage before it left. After all, this night was still young, and he had many questions that needed rational answers.

Drew's testy place.

ORX-013K Kingfisher Gundam

Stuff

The Kingfisher Gundam is a prototype Mk-V Gundam with major modifications. The Mk-V was already a Psycommu-equipped system, and the additions of the Kingfisher Project only elevated the need for a Newtype pilot, unlike the Mk-V’s ability to even allow Oldtypes to operate the INCOM system. The Kingfisher is loaded with an onboard AI given the name A.L.C.Y.O.N.E. which stands for Artificial Learning CYber Operating Newtype Engine. A.L.C.Y.O.N.E. was developed during the test stages of the MSA-0011 S Gundam’s A.L.I.C.E. System. While the A.L.I.C.E. System acts as a co-pilot to the S Gundam, A.L.C.Y.O.N.E. directly connects with the pilot, elevating their Newtype abilities exponentially and allowing super-human calculations during combat.

The conceptual data was a game-changer, and if the Kingfisher Gundam could be tested and fielded properly, it would elevate normal pilots to the level of the best aces. Sadly, the impact of the system on the human brain was too much, and the A.L.C.Y.O.N.E. system caused the deaths of all test pilots from pushing the system too far.
Normal flight and operation are safe for a pilot synced with the system. However when the pilot attempts to push the Mobile Suit during stressful situations, the feedback from the system to their brain and nervous system damage the brain, causing severe headaches, extreme pain, and brain hemorrhaging. Another danger is the extreme speed and acceleration the suit is capable of, which is only increased during sync with the A.L.C.Y.O.N.E. system. Normal pilots who cannot withstand the extreme G-Forces of the mobile suit are liable to lose consciousness during flight.

The Kingfisher sports a white base color scheme with dark blue accents, and bright yellow highlights. On the right arm, AUGUSTA NEWTYPE RESEARCH is painted, and under it is the word PROTOTYPE. The head module of the Kingfisher is nearly identical to the Mk-V Gundam with the exception that the Antenna has been removed and the crest on top of the head is plumed, similar to the actual Kingfisher bird. This “plume” is actually the location of an advanced Psy-Wave monitoring system.

If the Kingfisher is able to activate its complete sync mode, the Mobile Suit’s inner frame begins to glow a dark blue. Onlookers may assume that the Kingfisher is outfitted with Psycho-Frames, however, the Kingfisher predates the development of Psycho-Frames, though it is theoretically possible to add Psyframe plating to the Mobile Suit. The Kingfisher is capable of receiving multiple modifications, and the blueprints do have theoretical “Plan Packs” for different combat scenarios.

Armaments:

-Twin Vulcan Guns located in the head unit.
-Beam Rifle: Standard beam rifle
-Prototype Advanced INCOM System: six disc-shaped devices located on the shoulders, arms, and legs of the suit, are wire-guided psycommu weapons, connected and controlled by the parent suit. Each INCOM Disc has a Beam Gun capable of firing 10 shots before being recalled to recharge.
-Beam Saber: The standard beam saber employed by most MS.
-Shield Booster: Twin shields mounted on the left and right arms of the MS, which also have an added thruster. The shields can be used as arm thrusters or attached to the back of the MS for boosted thrust.

ORX-013K Kingfisher Gundam FINAL ARMOR

Stuff

Thanks to resupply by a federation cruiser sent from Londo-Bell, the Kingfisher Gundam is now fully armored and equipped with more weapons. The armor comes from a modified Gundam Mark-V piloted by a lost Federation Ace. The armor across the Kingfisher’s body has been improved. Extra boosters have also been attached to the back of the Mobile Suit to add more maneuverability in space.

-The standard Beam Saber has been upgraded into the Custom Beam Saber, with higher power output and a short “beam spike” at the bottom of the saber.
-The right arm unit, which has been retrofitted with Marlowe’s own custom winch/wire system, has been given extra armor and strengthened to assist with the custom weapon. The left arm is fitted with a Birdlime Adhesive launcher, allowing for nonlethal capture of enemy combatants or quick repairs.
-A high-powered focused beam rifle has been equipped with a miniaturized magnetic rivet launcher, mounted below the beam focusing barrel.
-Two missile pods are equipped to the Kingfisher’s shoulder units.
-Two miniaturized shield boosters have been attached to the arm units, having been modified for easier maneuverability.
-Two full-sized shield boosters are attached to the back of the Mobile Suit.
-The INCOM discs have been upgraded with a more powerful Beam Gun. They are only capable of six shots before needing to be recharged now.

Gundam 0094 (Invite Only Roleplay)

_______________________________________________ // INFO Character Info Name - Marlowe Voltus Age - 20 Gender - Male Place of Origin - USA Type - (Newtype, Oldtype, Etc) Cyber-Newtybe Mobile Weapon Profile Suit Type -(Mobile Pod, Mobile Suit, Mobile Armor, etc) Mobile Suit Suit Style - (Federation, Zeon, Other) Other/Voltus Salvafe Custom Combat Role - Support/Range Striker Suit Armaments - HM-31 Custom Magnetized Rivet MW Rifle; Custom Heat Chopper - // PERSONALITY Pilot Personality Pacifistic Marlowe is not a soldier and escaped being forced to be one during the end of the Gryps War. Even though he's never seen true war, during his time as a Cyber-Newtype he saw the horrors inflicted on the fellow children and teenagers in the laboratories, and suffered the scars of their experiments himself. Because of that, he decided to escape the Earth and avoid all conflict altogether, choosing to help salvage instead of fight. Marlowe believes in the importance of life, regardless of which ideological side someone is on, and absolutely refuses to take another life, even if his own may be taken. Brash Just because he doesn't believe in killing doesn't mean he's a man of inaction. When there is a need for help, Marlowe is the first to jump into the fray. His strong beliefs in helping others tend to put him in worse situations and endanger himself and others. Still, he refuses to compromise his beliefs for anything, and to his detriment. Naive His belief that people are inherently good, which leads him to be used and abused by anyone looking to take advantage of that idealistic belief.

Physical Description Marlowe is of average height, with dark hair and dark eyes. His build is rather slim, and he tends to wear thick, insulated clothes to deal with the harsh environment on The Cathartes, since the ship is roughshod and ramshackle, you never know if the temperature will drop into freezing due to heating coils needing to be replaced. The same issue happens in the cockpit of the junkpile, and his normal suit is insulated as well to deal with the lack of temperature regulation in the cockpit. Because of this, he will rarely pilot with his helmet off. The other reason constantly covering his body is to hide the various scars he has received from the Cyber-Newtype experiments he went through in U.C. 86-87. He considers himself lucky to leave the Augusta Newtype Labs. Character Conceptualization Marlowe fits the classic Gundam idealistic kid with a major exception: he's older and he has seen how bad things can get on both sides. Beneath his idealistic character is a person who has been heavily scarred by the sins of both the Federation and Zeon. His faith in the spirit of humanity will be tested throughout the story, as even though he has escaped the major influences of the Earth-based colonies, corruption, cruelty, and violence still exist out in the rim. And he still has no idea the dangers that the Jupiter Empire poses. Mobile Weapon Description Junkpile His custom support mech, kindly named the Junkpile, is a hodge-podge of salvaged and re-purposed parts. The head module is that of a repaired Rick Dias from the Gryps War, and the body is of a GM-III. The arms and legs appear to be unarmored pieces of a GM-II or a Nemo. On the back of the suit is a large mechanical winch system; which can be fired and retracted. The back also has two smaller retro-boosters, allowing for some space maneuverability. However, due to its equipment, the Junkpile falls short of even a Zaku II in combat maneuverability. The one saving grace is the winch system, which allows Marlowe to rocket around debris fields with rapid speed, as long as he has something to tether his MS to. Since the Junkpile is meant for breaking down ships and debris, it is not armored for combat, and therefore is not suited for normal combat sorties.