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Odd One Out
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Should we wait for Hokum to get some licks in or continue on, Ink?
In
Dawn Beyond Tomorrow: A Magitech distant postapocalyptic action-adventure RP
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Silvery strands were invisible in darkness; Oribara had a headlamp.
As the Screaming Slugs flickered in the swath of fluorescent light from his forehead, the thug knelt down, one hand on his board and another reaching out into the ground. His fingers punched past glowcaps and dirt, snagging into the hardier rock underneath, and with a twist of his body, he wrenched a large slab of rock out of the ground, board skidding to a stop at the very edge of the first slugs. Still squatting on his board, Oribara pulled out two spray cans and shook them heartily. One was a pesticide, strong enough to dissuade any glowcaps from growing over top, while the other was a luminescent paint that would glow a striking red to contrast with the blue-white of the caps.
And what did he spray atop the rock?
Eyes up, fuckos!
A flourish of his double-shotgun, double-bicep signature later, and Oribara rammed the stone warning sign into the ground, right in the center of the entrance to the cavern. Slugs were good for drawing out other predators, but Trailblazers didn’t care for the dangers of opportunistic predators. Dens were easier (and more satisfying) to vandalize.
Then, a couple of rations flew overhead. Snagged onto the sensory threads of the slugs. And was duly consumed by them.
Oribara gazed backwards, one eyebrow cocked.
“Didn’t take you for a monster lover, tinman.”
And with that, he kicked off again, board churning up glowcaps underneath as the redhead swayed and snaked, evading the very visible freaks that clung to the ceiling. Someone with a flamethrower can handle ‘em in the future. Oribara had a whole damn forest to sketch out!
Karan bowed at the party once more as they all, at different speeds and with varying enthusiasm, departed for the markets. While Raime and Magpie griped over their poverty, for a career of gigs certainly hadn’t treated those two Immortal adventurers kindly, Ames, Amulak, and Klein were all able to pick up a fair amount of gear. The necromancer and the mountain man, through a quick visit to one of the local apothecaries, stocked up on the appropriate potions for the job, while the warrior played with fashion instead, filling out the rest of his equipment slots with things that matched his currently aesthetic of being a light, red warrior. His stats may not be leaning as hard in the direction that Raime or Magpie did, but Ames certainly looked the part of a speedy, skillful warrior, and sometimes, that was all that mattered.
Hell, combined with his red cloak, there was no questioning the magnitude of his protagonist-aura now. Truly, a heroic silhouette amidst the motley designs of his comrades, primed for kicking scaley ass and saving kidnapped children!
Of course, Amulak was the one that lead the party through the misty realms of the Thunderstruck Grove. Somewhat better-equipped and definitely higher-levelled, the party had no particularly taxing encounters with the monsters present in the Grove as they hiked through. The offensive and defensive aces they had, Raime’s God-Searing Light and Klein’s Retaliation from the Brink meant that, so long as they didn’t have to deal with consecutive encounters and took the breaks necessary to passively regenerate lost resources, there wasn’t any normal encounter that could spook them. And they were lucky enough to have avoided any abnormal encounters as well.
As they reached the mouth of the Blasphemed Tunnels, Raime, with his background in traipsing through the woods in search of non-existent creatures, would note curious tracks extending into the underground system: two sets of parallel grooves, one overlapping the other to form a very acute ‘v’ shape. Ames, his senses improved as an Animist, would feel a cold chill spread over their body as they stared into the gaping abyss of the Blasphemed Tunnels as well, while Magpie would feel that same cold chill…but only because of the wind.
From Amulak’s memory of the Blasphemed Tunnels’ map, there were four significant caverns within, which could possibly serve as a hideout for criminal creatures twice the length of a normal human being. The largest cavern was a space beneath the roots of the Ancient Blackened Tree that he had gained his profane knowledge from, where tar and dark energies coagulated in an array of pools and evil spirits spawned from to populate the rest of the tunnels. Another cavern dipped deeper into the earth, until the air itself was warmed by the beating heart of the planet itself. It would be easy enough to get down into, but the way back up was, as expected of steep slopes, a pain to deal with. A cavern to the east was an option as well, fairly close to the surface, in which the ruins of an ancient settlement rested. Skeletons and goat-headed monsters populated that particular region, though if two monstrous races could co-exist, perhaps a third could find shelter there too? The final cavern required a swim through an underground lake, which was always a gamble considering the heavy equipment that adventurers often lugged around (could anyone in the party even swim to begin with?), but the empty nature of that particular cavern made it perfect for immoral/immortal trysts as well as, perhaps, human trafficking operations.
Well, for the time being at least, they’ve all had time to think and discuss, to prepare for the quest about to commence.
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee
“I don’t know!” Vator shouted in response, seeming to match Ari’s volume even if the two of them were comfortably within earshot. “I was just walking on the road when they bamf’d into existence and like, wew-whee, I’m lucky I’m a fast boii!”
“Well ain’t that helpful,” Droko spat, clapping her hands together. Arcane energy wrapped around her, twisting the shape of the tattoos around her body, and as if accompanying the transformation of her tattoos, the shaman herself transformed, leaping off the carriage into the form of a large grizzly bear. Without hesitation, she charged for the closest one, paws thrust out to catch the gyuki’s horns. The two beasts collided like professional sumo wrestlers, muscles and fat rippling from the impact. It transitioned swiftly then, into a wrestling match, the gyuki still having an edge on the bear as it pushed steadily ahead.
But a fight with a party was a fight with constant interference.
Vator, somersaulting over the stalled bull, delivered a swift sequence of strikes and thrusts. Cuts marred the phantasmal hide of the creature, but they were nothing if not tough; it would take more than that to slay one of those gargantuan monsters.
Ari’s kunais whistled through the air as well. Huge as the gyukis’ faces were, their comically-large eyes would’ve been easy to hit if they had stayed still, and would’ve only required a little luck to hit while they were moving. One struck a nostril, another struck the tearwell, and a third strike dead center into the right eye, but none of the blades dug in deep enough to detail significant damage. The gyuki twisted its head with an irritated bleat, eyes filled with a desire for savage retribution. Its hooves dug against the ground, its leg muscles bent like a catapult moments away from firing, and it kicked off, straight for her!
“Power Attack!”
Leaping forward a distance far greater than should be possible with such heavy armor, Bortz’s Warhammer flashed with scintillating light as it slammed into the legs of the gyuki. The monster twisted to one side, then faceplanted into the ground, tumbling still in Ari’s direction, but with the menace of a rolling SUV, rather than an accelerating one.
@GreenGoat
Hell, combined with his red cloak, there was no questioning the magnitude of his protagonist-aura now. Truly, a heroic silhouette amidst the motley designs of his comrades, primed for kicking scaley ass and saving kidnapped children!
Of course, Amulak was the one that lead the party through the misty realms of the Thunderstruck Grove. Somewhat better-equipped and definitely higher-levelled, the party had no particularly taxing encounters with the monsters present in the Grove as they hiked through. The offensive and defensive aces they had, Raime’s God-Searing Light and Klein’s Retaliation from the Brink meant that, so long as they didn’t have to deal with consecutive encounters and took the breaks necessary to passively regenerate lost resources, there wasn’t any normal encounter that could spook them. And they were lucky enough to have avoided any abnormal encounters as well.
As they reached the mouth of the Blasphemed Tunnels, Raime, with his background in traipsing through the woods in search of non-existent creatures, would note curious tracks extending into the underground system: two sets of parallel grooves, one overlapping the other to form a very acute ‘v’ shape. Ames, his senses improved as an Animist, would feel a cold chill spread over their body as they stared into the gaping abyss of the Blasphemed Tunnels as well, while Magpie would feel that same cold chill…but only because of the wind.
From Amulak’s memory of the Blasphemed Tunnels’ map, there were four significant caverns within, which could possibly serve as a hideout for criminal creatures twice the length of a normal human being. The largest cavern was a space beneath the roots of the Ancient Blackened Tree that he had gained his profane knowledge from, where tar and dark energies coagulated in an array of pools and evil spirits spawned from to populate the rest of the tunnels. Another cavern dipped deeper into the earth, until the air itself was warmed by the beating heart of the planet itself. It would be easy enough to get down into, but the way back up was, as expected of steep slopes, a pain to deal with. A cavern to the east was an option as well, fairly close to the surface, in which the ruins of an ancient settlement rested. Skeletons and goat-headed monsters populated that particular region, though if two monstrous races could co-exist, perhaps a third could find shelter there too? The final cavern required a swim through an underground lake, which was always a gamble considering the heavy equipment that adventurers often lugged around (could anyone in the party even swim to begin with?), but the empty nature of that particular cavern made it perfect for immoral/immortal trysts as well as, perhaps, human trafficking operations.
Well, for the time being at least, they’ve all had time to think and discuss, to prepare for the quest about to commence.
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee
“I don’t know!” Vator shouted in response, seeming to match Ari’s volume even if the two of them were comfortably within earshot. “I was just walking on the road when they bamf’d into existence and like, wew-whee, I’m lucky I’m a fast boii!”
“Well ain’t that helpful,” Droko spat, clapping her hands together. Arcane energy wrapped around her, twisting the shape of the tattoos around her body, and as if accompanying the transformation of her tattoos, the shaman herself transformed, leaping off the carriage into the form of a large grizzly bear. Without hesitation, she charged for the closest one, paws thrust out to catch the gyuki’s horns. The two beasts collided like professional sumo wrestlers, muscles and fat rippling from the impact. It transitioned swiftly then, into a wrestling match, the gyuki still having an edge on the bear as it pushed steadily ahead.
But a fight with a party was a fight with constant interference.
Vator, somersaulting over the stalled bull, delivered a swift sequence of strikes and thrusts. Cuts marred the phantasmal hide of the creature, but they were nothing if not tough; it would take more than that to slay one of those gargantuan monsters.
Ari’s kunais whistled through the air as well. Huge as the gyukis’ faces were, their comically-large eyes would’ve been easy to hit if they had stayed still, and would’ve only required a little luck to hit while they were moving. One struck a nostril, another struck the tearwell, and a third strike dead center into the right eye, but none of the blades dug in deep enough to detail significant damage. The gyuki twisted its head with an irritated bleat, eyes filled with a desire for savage retribution. Its hooves dug against the ground, its leg muscles bent like a catapult moments away from firing, and it kicked off, straight for her!
“Power Attack!”
Leaping forward a distance far greater than should be possible with such heavy armor, Bortz’s Warhammer flashed with scintillating light as it slammed into the legs of the gyuki. The monster twisted to one side, then faceplanted into the ground, tumbling still in Ari’s direction, but with the menace of a rolling SUV, rather than an accelerating one.
@GreenGoat
Eisekato. More names. Otis remembered that. A powerful individual. A monarch then, isolationist in nature. Curious that they would pluck certain races from Arcanis into their realm as well though. Some but not others. Was immortality a factor? Did they do a test with one of those anti-demon talismans? Contradictory to wish to live in modern society while living apart from it. There were certainly some in even 'human' society that wished for that though. Fine. He would accept the illogic of such desires then. Still strange that this was all just something popped up upon the class upon arrival. Who pulled the strings? Who made the decision? How much say did the teachers have in this? What about the higher-up administration within Silver Gate? More questions buzzed in his skull, but the strigidae didn't release any of them. Had to make it count, after all.
As he allowed himself to be let out of the center, Otis arranged his thoughts and asked one final question, "I am, broadly speaking, a Beastkin hailing from the Fabula Silva. One of my classmates is a Phoenix, hailing from Arcanis as well. I am not human and am non-yokai. He is not human and is non-yokai. Who shall I speak to if I seek that same 'exception'?"
Well, the Motsuhime card he could play sounded like the obvious answer, but other options were always welcome.
Lightning and incomprehensible physical capabilities. As expected of someone, if Leuca was being literal, blessed by the 'Fey' with eternal youth. Certainly, such a boon would allow any number of people to become incredibly competent. No failing memory, no wasting muscle mass. Made it more impressive that Railey had survived any amount of time against Sorcha then. If it wasn't for his prior engagements, Isidore may not have been opposed to learning from the Apostles. As it was, however, Leuca was with him already, Augusta was his partner, and the Urutha had a unique history beneficial for them.
So all Isidore did in response to Railey's offer was a curt nod, before his gaze settled upon Sorcha once more. Even with this much distance, it probably wasn't safe to play around. He flipped his polearm upside down, planting the axehead into the snow, then turned his head sideways. "Leuca's spoke of you." He gestured for the young Sirithen to stand up and come over. Beside him, not in front. "Are you still her guide?"
No trust existed still, only circumstance and stories, both which could change with the drop of dwarvish coin.
Well, good choice. He survives for another post round.
In
Dawn Beyond Tomorrow: A Magitech distant postapocalyptic action-adventure RP
→
3 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
"Hanh?" Oribara turned his head, one eye locked back onto tinman. "That goes without saying."
He turned to the distant glow, rolling his shoulders backwards and feeling his muscles warm up, limber up. His headlight scythed through the darkness of their surroundings, and even from a distance, Oribara could tell that there was something up with the rightside light. Good shit. Love to see it. Like deep sea fish, like moth-searing flames. The beastgirl offered up a less than fascinating answer to how she managed her own landing though, and just like that, he lost interest. Of course it was magic. Shouldn't have expected much from a skinny kiddo like that. Her companion looked more pissed than concerned though. Oribara glared back at her when her eyes swept over to where he was, but offered no comment.
Giggolo-ass, self-proclaimed freelancer as he was, simply couldn't let a conversation die out though. The red-haired thug looked at the man's outstretched hand, then rolled his eyes and slapped the open palm. Was that supposed to be a hi-five? Or just a refusal of camaraderie? "Oribara Senjoushi, from the motherfucking Gatecrashers of Hell. Don't give a fuck if you remember it or not, cause from here on out, y'all are only gonna see my back!"
And with that, he kicked off the ground, flinging his skateboard in front of him before jumping on. With the screaming of grooved wheels tearing against stone, Oribara shot off for the rightside path, fully intent on making every one of these chummy cheesechurners eat his dust.
Unless one of them ended up with a broken leg or something. Then he'd have to double back, if only on principle.
Man, real good thing that the isekai deal isn't confirmed yet.
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