I'd also like to know what their language currently is like anyways. Purely in how it sounds and all.
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A Spiny Ant
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A whipping tool, you say.
Wub wub fast af.
Hunger persisted. It gnawed. It wouldn't go away because he slept. But it kept off the edge, at least. He should sleep early tonight. Wake up at night. Hunt then, when the critters are asleep. Night works better. The eyes in the sky can't find you so easily. The air cooled you as your body warmed up.
In the darkness of shut eyes, as comforting as the womb of a mother he could not remember, that was what Hoi thought. He opened his eyes after. Rolled onto his feet. Tried to straighten his back, then grimaced. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It hurt like a metaphor. What was a metaphor? Hrm. It hurt. He hunched back down, crick-cracking into a comfortable slouch. His brethren were still around him. One was sharper than the others. Three others were just throwing rocks. May be training, may just be having fun. And the last one...
"Food for the strong."
A squashed beetle may as well be...may as well be...Hoi shook his head again, emptying out meaningless fragments. It was food. He hungered. Needed a lot if he wanted to keep his shape. He reached out, then closed Emiri's hand over their beetle, pushing it back to the curious goblin. "You work, you eat."
Maybe he should have taken it anyways though. Moments after, a green blur burst between the two, and the beetle was gone in the mouths of another. One of the rock-throwers. Hoi tensed, his ▅▅▅▅-like gaze following them into the darkness of the cave, wrists crackling as his hands splayed, each finger ending in a dirtied claw.
"You work, you eat."
He turned away, striding off into the forest, what callous intentions within him seeping out as he stepped into an easy rhythm. A final word, just a meaningless offer to that strangely dressed goblin.
"Let's work."
@Versa@Dark Light
In the darkness of shut eyes, as comforting as the womb of a mother he could not remember, that was what Hoi thought. He opened his eyes after. Rolled onto his feet. Tried to straighten his back, then grimaced. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It hurt like a metaphor. What was a metaphor? Hrm. It hurt. He hunched back down, crick-cracking into a comfortable slouch. His brethren were still around him. One was sharper than the others. Three others were just throwing rocks. May be training, may just be having fun. And the last one...
"Food for the strong."
A squashed beetle may as well be...may as well be...Hoi shook his head again, emptying out meaningless fragments. It was food. He hungered. Needed a lot if he wanted to keep his shape. He reached out, then closed Emiri's hand over their beetle, pushing it back to the curious goblin. "You work, you eat."
Maybe he should have taken it anyways though. Moments after, a green blur burst between the two, and the beetle was gone in the mouths of another. One of the rock-throwers. Hoi tensed, his ▅▅▅▅-like gaze following them into the darkness of the cave, wrists crackling as his hands splayed, each finger ending in a dirtied claw.
"You work, you eat."
He turned away, striding off into the forest, what callous intentions within him seeping out as he stepped into an easy rhythm. A final word, just a meaningless offer to that strangely dressed goblin.
"Let's work."
@Versa@Dark Light
No problem, Celsius. I was largely being facetious too.
Probably would be apt to avoid goblin breeding shenanigans. I didn't join this to have an erotic roleplay featuring green children.
When can we expect the IC, and how fast do you prefer posts to be coming in at?
Name: Hoi
Age: Day 3
Gender: Male
Race: Goblin
Level: 33
Appearance: The widest of the litter, if not the tallest, Hoi is rotund, with a bulging belly and chubby cheeks. His neck has a strange crook to it that makes it almost painful for him to stand straight, and his arms are of an uncommon length as well. There is a distinct baseness to him, his yellow eyes lacking the same glint that his brethren do, and his facial features have a squashed-flat look: his nose is fatter but shorter than others, and his lips are fatter too. Of course, unlike his brothers and sisters, he's actually bald. Not a spot of hair pokes out from his motley-green crown, not even a bit of fuzz.
He doesn't mind though. Seeing how everyone else gets sticks and shit stuck in their hair, it's basically an advantage.
Personality: Hoi gets the job done and takes every scrap of enjoyment he can afterwards. He doesn't shirk from hard or dirty work, and he appears both tactless and insensitive. If he works, he expects recompense. If others shirk work, he expects them to starve. Work comes easily to him, but so does violence. Claws to scratch, feet to stomp, teeth to gnash, and a mind crueller than his responsible, hard-working attitude would suggest. They are goblins, after all. If the weak can't make themselves useful, then they're just another burden. And Hoi's tired of burdens.
Talents
Skills
Inventory:
Age: Day 3
Gender: Male
Race: Goblin
Level: 33
Appearance: The widest of the litter, if not the tallest, Hoi is rotund, with a bulging belly and chubby cheeks. His neck has a strange crook to it that makes it almost painful for him to stand straight, and his arms are of an uncommon length as well. There is a distinct baseness to him, his yellow eyes lacking the same glint that his brethren do, and his facial features have a squashed-flat look: his nose is fatter but shorter than others, and his lips are fatter too. Of course, unlike his brothers and sisters, he's actually bald. Not a spot of hair pokes out from his motley-green crown, not even a bit of fuzz.
He doesn't mind though. Seeing how everyone else gets sticks and shit stuck in their hair, it's basically an advantage.
Personality: Hoi gets the job done and takes every scrap of enjoyment he can afterwards. He doesn't shirk from hard or dirty work, and he appears both tactless and insensitive. If he works, he expects recompense. If others shirk work, he expects them to starve. Work comes easily to him, but so does violence. Claws to scratch, feet to stomp, teeth to gnash, and a mind crueller than his responsible, hard-working attitude would suggest. They are goblins, after all. If the weak can't make themselves useful, then they're just another burden. And Hoi's tired of burdens.
Talents
Out Like A Light
Restful sleep comes easily regardless of comfort, and no imagined terrors disturbs one's rest. Allows for greater rejuvenation when resting, as well as immediate awareness once awoken.
Burden Bearer
Heavy weights are familiar, and the body adjusts naturally to encumberance. Increases endurance and carrying capacity, though does not increase base physical strength.
Leadership
The user's words carry more weight and are better at influencing others.
Heavy Legs
The muscles of the user's legs are hefty, yet strong. This makes all attacks that make use of the lower extremities deal more damage.
Restful sleep comes easily regardless of comfort, and no imagined terrors disturbs one's rest. Allows for greater rejuvenation when resting, as well as immediate awareness once awoken.
Burden Bearer
Heavy weights are familiar, and the body adjusts naturally to encumberance. Increases endurance and carrying capacity, though does not increase base physical strength.
Leadership
The user's words carry more weight and are better at influencing others.
Heavy Legs
The muscles of the user's legs are hefty, yet strong. This makes all attacks that make use of the lower extremities deal more damage.
Skills
Dark Eye [E-Rank]
Passive
Allows one to see more effectively in the darkness.
Absorption [???-Rank]
Active (Remaining Uses: 6)
Gain skill(s) from creatures one devours. The amount of skills gained from this process is 8. This amount resets upon evolution.
Regeneration [E-Rank]
Passive
With enough time, rest, and nutrition, the user is able to heal from most wounds and blood loss. This does not apply to massive or severe injuries.
Escape [E-Rank]
Passive
The ability to flee and get to a safe location much more efficiently. Regardless of the situation, the user gets a bonus when attempting to get away.
Passive
Allows one to see more effectively in the darkness.
Absorption [???-Rank]
Active (Remaining Uses: 6)
Gain skill(s) from creatures one devours. The amount of skills gained from this process is 8. This amount resets upon evolution.
Regeneration [E-Rank]
Passive
With enough time, rest, and nutrition, the user is able to heal from most wounds and blood loss. This does not apply to massive or severe injuries.
Escape [E-Rank]
Passive
The ability to flee and get to a safe location much more efficiently. Regardless of the situation, the user gets a bonus when attempting to get away.
Inventory:
Rabbit Horn x2
I mean, that's what's gonna happen, yeah. They'll probably need the rope if they want to descend down the other side anyways.
That's some firepower, huh?
Thrones's eyebrows lifted slightly as beams of scintillating purple shot out from the Arts droids, ripping through the buildings with such terrible heat that the air itself exploded. It was also sorta unfair that they could withstand bullets and still get off their Arts with no problem, but hey, armored robots. She'll have to keep it in mind for future encounters. Because there was definitely no chance in Hell they were going to fail.
Support came in the form of a Sarkaz. Thrones clicked her tongue; were they performing poorly enough that Diver sent one of Retra's own to help them out? Felt unnecessary, but at the same time, it was a bit irritating, being the only individual in the group with the offensive Arts necessary to easily deal with the heavily armored droids. As the sky rained chunks of steel-crushing rubble, the Sankta Caster took in a quick breath, before readjusting her gravity shackles. Suddenly, the droids were falling sideways, right underneath a thick chunk of rubble. She released her Arts moments later, and before either of them could release another crackling beam of energy, they were pulverized by their own collateral damage.
Thrones breathed again, yellow eyes alive. Her blood flowed more easily, as if whatever blocked it disappeared. Did Feral do something, or were those Arts droids the source of that? Contemplation comes later. Her blood ran hot, and she grinned, translucent rings forming over her palms again.
"Strix, deal with the normal ones. Mule, smack the Big Bobs like you wanna toss them into rubble hell."
She paused. Maybe she'll clarify.
"Because you will."
The rings became opaque, and Thrones hurled them this time, the Arts chakrams taking on the trajectory of a double helix before they turned into three. Striking the heavily armored droids, they sunk into the armor instead of break against it, and once inside, Thrones closed her hands into fists, blue veins stark against pale skin.
There was a bit of trust involved, but if Mule was as tough as a Defender ought to be, she should have no difficulty sending these lightweights flying.
Thrones's eyebrows lifted slightly as beams of scintillating purple shot out from the Arts droids, ripping through the buildings with such terrible heat that the air itself exploded. It was also sorta unfair that they could withstand bullets and still get off their Arts with no problem, but hey, armored robots. She'll have to keep it in mind for future encounters. Because there was definitely no chance in Hell they were going to fail.
Support came in the form of a Sarkaz. Thrones clicked her tongue; were they performing poorly enough that Diver sent one of Retra's own to help them out? Felt unnecessary, but at the same time, it was a bit irritating, being the only individual in the group with the offensive Arts necessary to easily deal with the heavily armored droids. As the sky rained chunks of steel-crushing rubble, the Sankta Caster took in a quick breath, before readjusting her gravity shackles. Suddenly, the droids were falling sideways, right underneath a thick chunk of rubble. She released her Arts moments later, and before either of them could release another crackling beam of energy, they were pulverized by their own collateral damage.
Thrones breathed again, yellow eyes alive. Her blood flowed more easily, as if whatever blocked it disappeared. Did Feral do something, or were those Arts droids the source of that? Contemplation comes later. Her blood ran hot, and she grinned, translucent rings forming over her palms again.
"Strix, deal with the normal ones. Mule, smack the Big Bobs like you wanna toss them into rubble hell."
She paused. Maybe she'll clarify.
"Because you will."
The rings became opaque, and Thrones hurled them this time, the Arts chakrams taking on the trajectory of a double helix before they turned into three. Striking the heavily armored droids, they sunk into the armor instead of break against it, and once inside, Thrones closed her hands into fists, blue veins stark against pale skin.
There was a bit of trust involved, but if Mule was as tough as a Defender ought to be, she should have no difficulty sending these lightweights flying.
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