ERode

World Beyond the Lexicon

DPS are just preemptive tanks. And healers are just retroactive tanks.

World Beyond the Lexicon

Are they random matchups or planned hijinks?

Cacophony Concord

Sure. Feel free to work on your sheet in the meantime. Depending on where 71342 is at, there may be an opening soon.

World Beyond the Lexicon

_{@SilverPaw@samakama}

Well if they were so insistent, then Kress had no problem with i-

"This is your professor speaking. The afternoon class session starts in fifteen minutes. So get your asses back to the lecture hall, now."

"Ah," he said, stopping mid-step. "Guess not, huh."

Haha.

Oh well.

...

"Well, sucks that we won't be able to seem them in action, but Arcane Painters basically use these special paints that gradate into different shades depending on the time of day and the weather, making portraits that change with the environment! With some extra magic, they can even make it so that the portrait, say, grows with the subject. I've heard before that in certain knightly families, they had paintings done of their children so that, if they went off into expeditions to the Dark Continent, the parents would still be able to see their children doing well! In some ways, due to differences in the type of magic used, Arcane Paintings are actually more reliable than scrying or divination if you wanna know how someone's doing from far away!" Kress sucked in a deep breath; he was already heading back to the classroom. "Of course, magic exists that can create totally realistic pictures that are completely to life, but a true painter not only replicates their subject's appearance, but even enhances it. Like, hm, how should I say this...ah right. A beginner paints the outside, a master paints the inside. Other people can see things that you can't, and it's always super fun to see what others see, y'know? Maybe that's a bit narcissistic though...but anyways, if you're interested, Ankaa, Misaiya, let's head over there afterschool and see if they're still doing paintings?"

Lostman Graffiti

The Sharehouse

People continue to die on the radio. Tenoroshi was sleepy, but the rest of the world wasn't. Heart disease was a big killer today, a bunch of rich, old folk passed fitfully from it, and one even had the audacity to cause a car accident while doing so. Assaults were reported too, but only as a passing remark. It happened in the Southern District, after all. Any 'normal' person would stay far away from that undeveloped cesspool of youthful indulgence; anyone who didn't sorta deserved it anyways. Nameless minors were reported missing, the confidentiality of the matter making the description much too vague to elicit any particular memories of sightings. The radio continued on, a callous obituary for those who were gone, those who no one really knew.

In the relative quiet of her own room, Aya scanned her negatives, one at a time. The most recent ones were familiar. No surprises there, at least. Gotou and Suzuha, the shaved ice store, and some other pointless pictures. Just flights of fancy and suspicion. As she continued to look through them though, the camera-girl noticed something curious. It may have been a trick of the light, but in a couple of her pictures, there was the shadow of a cat, facing a single direction. The most recent picture that featured the shadow-cat was at an old, shut-down ryokan that Aya saw a couple days ago in the Northern District, while the oldest one stemmed back all the way to the beginning of the school term, when she took a picture of the back of Hijirido University's student union building for...some reason she no longer remembered. In total, there were 24 exposures with that shadow-cat, and she was certain too that she hadn't noticed any cheeky feline photo-bombing her shots when she actually took them.

Strange stuff, for sure.

Outside the Sharehouse

Though there was still some lingering warmth from the hot day, evening brought forth cool ocean breezes, and Fumiko almost felt a bit cold as she stepped outside the sharehouse. It wasn't necessarily quiet, with cars still driving through the relatively busy streets of the Central District, but it was better than incessantly-looping radio chatter. Wasn't like the sharehouse was ever so quiet though, not when the walls were so thin. The plumbing made it sound like a storm was brewing every time someone flushed the toilet, and Aya's snores were hella legendary on a good night, nevermind a bad one. Would have been nice if they could get a hammock going in the small backyard of the sharehouse. Give someone a chance to escape the general din of having a house of six university students with irregular sleep schedules.

The skies were purple now, gradating into the star-studded black of a proper night sky. A lull in traffic brought momentary quiet, broken immediately after by the cawing of crows. Looking off to her right, she could see thirty or so of those birds, cawing loudly and swooping up and down a neighbouring alleyway, making a general ruckus. Nasty little shits, to be sure. Probably fighting over fresh, steaming garbage.

Cacophony Concord

On any other day, looking for starter gear would have been a simple, if not easy task. But Nyu-Taro, suffused with opportunistic merchants as it was, had become a completely different beast. Stalls popped up in every corner of the streets like weeds, and for eyes untrained as Lugh’s, it was hard to tell what was ‘real’ equipment and what was simply replica souvenirs. Scarlet nodachis, monumental warclubs, obsidian-specked shields, and so many more fanciful weapons and armor lined the streets, accompanied by full-body paintings of people that definitely looked as if they were high-level Immortals of good repute. In the distance, the raucous clanging of bells and the hooting of worked-up hooligans resounded, above the din of the crowd. Paupers were there as well, of course, rattling their prayer wheels as they sat crosslegged around busy intersections, praying for coin.

After some searching, however, Lugh was able to find a particularly promising street, where the clanging of hammers against hot steel could be heard, as well as the sharp, rhythmic cries of the artisans within. Brick, rather than wood, made up the buildings, and as he peeked in from the clouded windows, he could see the bright, orange flame of the hearth, fuelled by white-hot coals. It may not have had the feel of a calm equipment store that one could find in a JRPG, with rows of ready-made weaponry, but there were racks of completed arms, and if Lugh paid some extra attention, he could see that more was getting churned out at an accelerated pace; upon the forge, a weapon was forming right in front of his eyes, almost as if by magic.

Well, what was truly magical though, was the smith’s muscles. Red-skinned and two-horned, the ogre-smith swallowed liquor and spat it out in blue flame, coating the weapon she was currently forming with an even greater heat before slamming at it more with an iron club.
_{@Cu Chulainn}

Darkest Before the Dawn: A CYOA Magical Girl Roleplay [Completed]

_{@BrokenPromise@FamishedPants@Ariamis@twave@Flamelord@Crusader Lord}

In the shadows cast by Shane’s lightning, in the refuge of Rachel’s valor, Amaryllis shot out to the side, her Sliverlight scraping against the floor. Diving underneath one tentacle and flipping over another, she maneuvered through the main hall getting ever closer to the hydra that even now grew larger. It was a pity Tetrad wasn’t here, but they had enough.

Lightning cracked in the distance, and in that brief burst of illumination, she saw the familiar sight of the Flying Dutchman.

They had enough.

Sliding on blood and alcohol, Amaryllis planted one hand on Trixy’s roots, vaulting over to grab one of the still-hanging cages up above. The girl inside was nothing but a fried corpse, and static electricity stung her palm as she did so, but the Knight of Rose brushed it off. She flipped to the top of the cage and then kicked off further, reaching the ceiling above Hyun Long.

A flash of silver light, and chunks of rubble crashed down upon the monster queen. Not enough to crush, not enough to even damage.
But just enough to serve as the spawn points for her chains.

Magical energy burst out, vibrant and enduring, as ivies and roses bloomed out of the rubble, their vines and roots wrapping around the main body of the Monster Queen. It wouldn’t be enough to restrain her; it’d be foolishness to even try when she could spawn so many more heads. But if all they needed to do was prevent her from eating more of the dead?

Dozens of chains continued to rise up, entwining into a thick braid. A beanstalk? A tower? No, an anchor chain, breaking through the fragile ceiling of the warehouse to stretch for the flying ship above.

“Sophia! PULL!”

_{@BrokenPromise@Majoras End}

“Vermillion."

Fine smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She knew the former Mint Broker back when she was still just a Mint Broker, and it was almost funny, to see her here now. Funny though, how Penrose was sometimes more of a nexus for curious magical individuals than the Overcity itself.

“Thought I’d get some R&R after my last mission in somewhere more…concrete. Luck turns out to be as shit as always though.” White smoke trailed out between her teeth, the smouldering end of her cigarette casting a dark glow over her face. “Mimoku’s evacuating me. I’d suggest the same to you. The Ascendancy’s not gonna let this stand.”

The car's horn blared down the tunnel, echoing deeply.

"C'mon Fine!" Myria called out, unnerved by how quickly everything was escalating. "Gotta scram fast! There's literally three Horrors around! And the storm's not normal too!"

Inside, Gerard was brewing some tea, using a nice, antique camp stove that his oujo-sama had ordered off Amazon a couple years back. It was definitely one of those nights, huh? He just hoped Fine didn't spill any cigarette ash on the leather again.

Arknights - Project Neptune

Thrones shook her head at both Vlad and Dragoon's questions.

"I'm fine. Just tired. Can perform my Arts even without my legs."

Her mind continued to fill with static. She was smelling blood that wasn't there. She really didn't like this whole environment. White buildings all around, blocky and texture-less. The Sankta shook her head again, clearing out the spreading webs. Time to go.

Or well, it would have been time to go, if the simulation hadn't glitched out at the end. Technical difficulties spawning from unexpected actions ended their examination, and Thrones opened her eyes slowly, her bones still feeling like jello. Pushing herself up, she felt something warm and salty seep onto her lips. Blood, red and sticky. Just a small nosebleed, but her head hammered into her mind, a wall smashing into a woman. The stimulation of Arts usage, without the actual physical effects of it. She shuddered.

Only made it worse.

"Diver," Thrones croaked, pressing her sleeve up against her nose. "You've read my files. Neural networks worsen my condition. Outside, please."

The crystals continued to riot. Shouldn't have been so bold with her Arts usage, for sure. Not when it was fake.

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

>immediately after Carpenter leaps in

Random Mook Guard: "Dispel Magic."

From Oubliette to Oublioth [R.I.P]

Spearmen, hm? Cecilia meditated on the situation briefly. Proper military would form a wall, wouldn't they? But would they patrol the streets, or would they remain as a barricade? Illusion magic wasn't her own specialization, and it didn't seem too likely that they'd have anyone capable of casting invisibility on the entire group.

Oh wait, Locke had his smoke! And he could make things quiet too!

"Hey, Kaze," Cecilia said, slapping the big lizardman on the back. It was easy enough to eavesdrop when everyone was travelling in a group, after all. "How tough ya think you are? Can you break walls and such?"

If they went through the side streets, and Locke and Kaze could combine to silently break walls open, slipping into ruined buildings without being spotted, while the summoners cause distractions in every which way to pull the attention of the spearmen, perhaps they could actually get out without drawing any blood?

Contingent, of course, on whether or not all this warrior's bodybuilding was for function or for form.