ERode — Roleplayer Guild

 Emma Halwell |  Brent Roless |  Ernest Mars |  Savannah Churchill

ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕠𝕤𝕥   / /   @Diggerton@ERode@banjoanjo@canaryrose
𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘   / /   𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥   / /   𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠   / /  𝟙𝟠𝟘𝟘

"START."

The first transformation would be spikes. Teeth. Something to help these too-small shoes to bite into the plastered surface of this building. Brent let out a deep breath as he reached out for that silvery mass within him, silver circuits running down his muscle calves and lighting up the boots. A silent explosion exposed his bare feet for but an instant, before they reformed once more. Silver-and-black, the steel toes remained on this pair of boots, but now, it was a comfortable fit, sporting jet black spikes on the sole.

But not enough for him to really go spiderman up the wall.

The spikes scraped against the ground as he tested them, before taking out his phone. Giving Emma a sideways glance, he called her, before putting the phone in his pocket. He’ll try the pipe first. Brent walked up to it, smiled, and then placed his hands against the drain pipe. All his body strengthening had a purpose now, so really, he shouldn’t be dilly-dallying at all, right?

“Prepare for liftoff,” he grinned, before placing one hand over the other, digging his spikes into the plaster as he began to ascend. It wasn’t his dream of running up the wall like a ninja, but this more than sufficed.

Ernie choked slightly as he watched his beloved boots disappear for an instant, before transforming into something more streamlined and breathtaking than anything he'd ever worn on his own feet. His momentary horror was quickly forgotten. Fuck, that was badass. Why couldn't he have gotten the power that made things cool looking? Well, cool looking and practical, unlike the idiots at West.

His awe instantly turned to dismay when Brent began scaling the drain pipe.

Now that was just an accident waiting to happen. Ernie waddled forward on the rollerblades, glancing down at his tomahawk. It was a stupid idea. But it was less stupid than falling off a broken drain pipe and breaking your back. He summoned his rope, feeling the weight of a loose coil of golden fibers in his hand and energy flowing through his muscles. Practised hands looped a clove hitch around the handle of the tomahawk within seconds. Ernie didn't bother wasting time testing the knot. He knew he could trust the tightening qualities of his stalwart companion. It was the tomahawk that would be the problem.

With a few spins of the makeshift grappling hook, Ernie tossed it up and caught it on the wooden banister by the drain pipe with the hook of the axe. So far, so good. He gave it a firm tug, feeling the blade dig only slightly into the handrail. So far, so good? He prayed that it would hold.

"Brent, grab on and use this!" Ernie called, kicking off the rollerblades. As much as he disliked going shoeless, he needed the traction of his feet rather than the slidiness of the roller wheels to hold onto the rope.

Emma watched the spectacle quietly, answering her phone when prompted. She gave Savannah a glance from the side, "There's no way this is going to end well..." she said quietly to the small girl. 

Oh shit. This probably wasn't going to go well, seeing how the other fight had went. Someone was most likely to get the snot knocked out of them. Savannah just hoped it wouldn't be her. Savannah pulled out her new phone, fumbling with the Contacts in an effort to get a texting conversation started. She was the scribe-type thing, after all. 

"Yeah, seeing how the other teams fared, this isn't going to go well. One of us is going to get the snot knocked out of them. I just hope it isn't me, because I like my nose not being broken." Savannah responded to Emma. 

"Got it, Ernie!" Brent called back, flashing the seaweed-head a thumbs up. He would have liked to know that Ernie could pull off this shit beforehand, but considering how the pipe was literally beginning to rattle underneath his weight, now was better than later. Reaching out with one hand, he grabbed the rope, grateful for something that probably won't give away as easily.

He let out another deep breath, and this time, the shoes didn't explode. They screeched, silver lines reappearing and this time glowing red. A hot wind buffeted his sweatpants as the spikes on his shoes changed erratically, turning into something more akin to jaws. Changing the orientation of his feet against the wall, Brent push in and smiled. Whatever mechanism within these new 'non-slip' boots were now forcing the spikes to literally bite into the wall, latching on, releasing only when he lessened the pressure he put on the wall.

It wasn't going to be enough for him to freely climb, but...as long as he had Ernie's rope, it was fine.

Using the rope to climb seemed to work fine. Ernie made a mental note to invest in some carabiners later, or whatever that rock climbing equipment was. Then again, it'd only ever come in handy if his rope ever grew beyond its barely usable length now. As Brent grabbed onto the rope, Ernie cringed as he felt the axe dig a little deeper into the railing. That was not going to end well.

"Uh, maybe you should hurry it up a little, buddy!" he eyed the grappling hook nervously, "I don't know how long this thing will hold."

Ohhhh no. This was not going to go well. "Well, they're certainly not the full shillings." Savannah said. 

Gah, could Ernie stop talking now? Did he forget that the enemy team was probably just on the other side of the building, or even inside it? Brent really didn't want to get attacked while clinging onto the wall at this point...but on the other hand, if he made it to the top WHILE everyone was trying to knock him off, that'd be Mission Impossible levels of winning, huh...

One foot over the other. One hand over the other. As the tomahawk dug deeper and deeper into the railing, Brent kept his eyes as wide open as he could, locked onto the bladed weapon. He didn't want to blink and suddenly see the axe heading for his face. No, he'd want as much time as possible to r-

The rope became slack.

The tomahawk fell.

Oh shit.

One hand grabbed the drain pipe once more, another unpleasant rattling resounding as he leapt out of the way, barely evading the tumbling weapon. He allowed himself a single mental congratulations before a 'pop' resounded, that of rusty nails popping out at the weight of a human being. The dilapidated drain pipe wasn't going to last much longer now, and his feet, slipping due to no longer being completely flat on the wall of the house, cut into plaster, but couldn't find purchase.

So he reached out for the untested third, a third jolt of silver circuitry rushing into those boots.

It was like plunging his feet into an open-air hot springs for the first time, supremely unpleasant and almost painful. Brent grit his teeth, slammed both feet against the wall, and selected a singular function.

Gripping.

The boots let out a pained squeal, and suddenly, he found himself hanging upside down, feet still stuck firmly on the wall. It was no longer spikes this time, nor teeth. No, what was on his soles this time were dozens of small hooks, piercing into the wall and staying in place. Well then. He smiled at his team that were still upside down, before feeling for the drain pipe once more. Still hella sketchy, but backing down now? That'd just be a waste of time.

Using his arms to provide some extra momentum, Brent swung himself upright, grabbing that drain pipe once more. There was only a bit more distance left, and this time, he didn't have to rely on the pipe to hold his weight. It just had to ensure that his body didn't fall backwards once more. He pushed onwards, taking care to put as much weight as possible on his legs as he advanced.

Callan and Sander could have just jumped. Kusari could have tentacle-grabbed her way up. Siena could have teleported. Grant could have rode on a block of concrete. Hazel could move herself up with her mind. Emma could tractor beam herself up.

...he needed to get better at this, and he needed to be better prepared. Make his first two upgrades count. Not getting gloves was a mistake.

Finally reaching the top, Brent grasped the edge with his hands and peeked up. Didn't look like anyone else was standing there, but the loud crash that resounded from the opposite side of the roof made it all too clear that Hazel and Team 3 had gotten there ahead of them.

"Make it fast, Emma. Sounds like they're already up and searching," he said, carefully removing the phone from his pocket and placing it on the roof.

Emma sighed as she watched Brent barely avoid a fall. She had no idea what Savannah meant but it was clear that they certainly weren’t the full shillings. ”What’d I tell ya? Accident waiting to happen.” she said with a small wink to the girl. 

Without any prompting Love materialized next to Brent. Emma brought her phone to her mouth, shouting into it, ”Gently use your ability to pull me, Ernie, and Savannah up to you!” she hoped that was command enough for the shadowy creature. It didn’t take long for it to follow the order with expedience, leaning over the edge of the roof and holding out its hands like a Jedi. The trio lifted off the ground, slowly being ushered up towards the top of the house.

Not knowing what to do, Savannah winked back at Emma. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do. As soon as Love lifted her into the air, her mouth formed into an O.

"Oh my god!" she squeaked. "I"M FLYING!" She screamed this time. It was truly a thrilling experience, to be lifted into the air like this. Her eyes sparkled, her awe showing.

Fuck, that almost ended badly. Ernie sidestepped the falling axe, cringing at the dull clanking sound it made as it hit the ground. At least Brent got up in one piece. He holstered the tomahawk once more. The rope would stay though. He disliked the vulnerability of having no enhanced durability. And from the sound of it, the other team had already completed their vertical route. Now that a top storey brawl was guaranteed, he needed the advantage.

Ernie was lifted off his feet. He grabbed the loose pair of rollerskates before he completely left the ground. They might come in handy later. As he ascended, he also loosely coiled his rope for easier carrying.

As the strange creature manifested before Brent, the amethyst-eyed youth waited a couple more moments, checking if it was going to get invisibly eviscerated by Darth Hazel. Nothing of that sort happened, however, and he pulled himself over the edge, rolling onto his back for a quick breather as the rest of the team took the easy, floaty way up. Perhaps the better method would be to simply throw the phone up there...wait. Hadn't that woman said that it was shock proof?

...Brent grimaced. It probably would have survived such a throw then, and they would have gotten there much faster as a result. More things he was lacking in. More things to remember for future missions. And a bluetooth too. He needed to get that.

Shaking his head, he took a glance around at the garden below. The white fence had collapsed, no doubt knocked down for Hazel to usher her crew in. Sounds of a struggle, followed by a muffled shout, were becoming more obvious now. So a healer definitely was on the third floor. Male by the sound of it, unless it was Lawrence?

He removed Ernie's shoes as he waited for the others to get up, the pair of work boots reverting to their original form with a soft flash.

"Sounds like they found a healer. Most likely going to toss that person into the safe zone with Hazel's telekinesis."

Emma frowned. Were they going to start fighting so soon? She reached for her phone again, ”Okay, let’s speed it up a bit! Not too fast, though!” There was a notable increase in the rate at which they were rising. Hopefully they’d get there in time, if the other team scored a healer so quickly it wouldn’t bode well for them, would it?

With the increase in the creature's pull speed, Ernie soon touched down. The sounds from indoors did nothing but heighten his nerves but there were other matters to take care of first. Seeing his boots by Brent's bare feet, Ernie raced towards them, tossing the rollerblades to his teammate in return.

"Oh, thank god," he breathed, lacing the work boots back on as quickly as he could.

However, the moment of respite passed too soon and his attention was forced back onto the commotion from inside.

"That doesn't sound good at all," he remarked anxiously. He could feel more clawing in his chest, and the urge to jump off and run back to the dorm began calling stronger than ever.

Emma pinpointed the sounds of battle. It would be one against four, wouldn’t it? That wasn’t exactly fair for the healer. She glanced at Brent and then glanced below. Determination appeared far above the roof, high in the air. He was right above where, by Emma’s best guess, the fighting should be. She didn’t even think about it, it just happened. ”Shoulder check the roof!” seemed like the most sensible thing to call out. That'd be good enough to make it through, right? Apparently it was, as he torpedoed through the roof and into the fight below.

A hitman using that symbol for their own needs? Yeah, this was definitely a case that Josephine was going to have to get into now. No way she was allowing some new face with a fancy weapon cut into her own profits just like that. That being said, Cash’s statements did make her wonder. If there was such a powerful ‘spell’ around, how on earth did it get lost the first place? Maybe a more powerful mage could automatically defend against this ethereal nightmare’s attacks, but one could practically eviscerate any enemy as long as they had an idea of where they were. It’d be like just accidentally forgetting that you had a tactical nuke launcher.

She furrowed her brows, but speculation wasn’t going to get anywhere. They were going to head over to the Wirefort’s lair first, after all, knock on the doors of all the rival mobs that had it out for the Himuras. Getting into her armored van once more, taking the time to take the Railrifle out of her violin case and making sure she had a full mag, Josephine drove off the moment she heard the passengers in her van put on their seatbelts. If they had to ram through a car or two to get there, it’d be a pain if Diva cracked open her skull, after all.

“Kamaitachi?” she repeated as she navigated through the messy network of mid-level streets, “Four syllables is too much. Let’s go with ‘Reaper’.”

Reaper sounded cooler than some gibberish language, after all.

Rolling to a stop as a group of armed thugs showed up, with their assortment of SMGs and handguns, her red-ringed eyes flickered over to their weapons for a couple of moments, before smiling. They were using Courtlandt Ophelia 3-17s? She used to love that, if only because those weapons became dirt cheap once Courtlandt gave up on trying to get into the weapon’s market and just went full liquidation mode. She motioned for Honoka to stay in the car, before walking out. To no one’s surprise, Blitz had gotten there first, and was already trying to peddle some heavier arms.

Josephine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Typical Blitz, having no idea at all about cost-efficiency. SMGs and handguns, even shitty ones made by Courtlandt Holdings, were already enough to kill men who only really had access to strength-boosting Underarmor. And if handguns and high-calibre assault rifles could both provide the same thing, why on earth would they switch it up? So some greedy death-merchant could make more money?

“Better off peddling power armor to their rivals first, if you want to convince them to up their offensive options,” Josephine muttered under her breath, before approaching, standing a step or so behind and beside the flight-armored fellow.

If this was going to turn into a gun fight, she’d like to have a shield in place, even if only for a couple of seconds.

“If Don Miggerton asks, this is about the weapon used to mess up the Himuras.”

Blitz was a weapons guy, after all. Hopefully they could put two and two correctly and make their own assumptions from there.

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