ERode

Kurai Majokko

I'd support just RNGing the pairings for now. It's not like the pairs are set in stone based off of this singular event, after all.

Kurai Majokko

The Detention Club should thank her for helping with recruitment.

Also ye, one of my initial ideas was a Light Girl cult leader, so things could definitely have gone even crazier huhuhu

JRPG-inspired magic school RP with a heavy focus on story and characters!

So, I'm curious.

Considering how committed you are to the setting, would you keep going even if there was only one player still kicking?

Kurai Majokko

Hm, maybe a step too crazy, too early.

But iz k, she's a Light Girl.

Kurai Majokko

Nonsuch was the sort of person to double-dip.

When she ate French fries, the fries were just a delivery mechanism for the ketchup. When she ate cookies, the cookies were tastier on the second soaking of milk. When she ate nachos, it only made sense to get both ends of the tortilla chip ladened with salsa, once all was said and done. Of course, she wasn’t a psychopath. Sushi avoided her two-dip clause.

Miseria and humanity did not.

High on the overpass, the paragon watched, a brash wind toying with her golden locks. Shadows writhed and rose, bubbling from the depths of an evil bog, bursting out. They seeped deep into the consciousness of those salarymen driving home after another late night spent overworking and then overdrinking. A miracle, indeed, that even to this day, people would drive home buzzed, on the precipice of collapse. She hefted her hammer, awaiting the telltale swell, the gradual sway. What must it feel like, to be so thoroughly consumed by a monster, when one was already consumed by society itself? What must it feel like, to be suddenly plunged into the depths of despair, plummeting into a pit that offered only self-termination? What must it be like then, to see a singular ray of light shining through, saving you from that brink?

The Miseria swelled, gorging itself upon the balding man’s regrets and ineptitudes, his day of humiliations and disappointment providing ample fuel. It ballooned out of proportion, shadows stretching further and further, before…

Pop!

A hammer smashed through its corpulent form and buried itself in the car’s hood. Thoroughly crushed, the engine didn’t even let out a whimper before the car grinded to a stop, any errant flames smothered by the sheer invisible mass of a Sweet Arm.

And, as for the man inside?

His airbags were deployed upon that freak accident, his nose broken against those inflatable bags. No mercy for the drunk drivers, after all! And, on the topic of double-dipping…

“Hello, this the police? I’d like to report a traffic accident west of 182.”

…she ended the call before the dispatcher could ask any more questions. Dropped the burner phone, allowing the truck underneath to crush it flat.

Now, drained of all happiness, having lost their own car, about to face a drunk driving charge, and likely going to enjoy their tenure in the hospital, with all the fees that their insurance wouldn’t cover, where would that man go? Nonsuch let out a cheery whistle, her tune mixing with the roar of traffic, the distance hymn of sirens.

They would go, seeking the help of a hero.

And she would be waiting, offering them the chance to reclaim their ideal.

Kurai Majokko

Eyo, so do the light peeps wait for a post from Cami to start things off, or are we free to go do whatever?

Kurai Majokko

The Starry Night

"Can’t you see? I haven’t fallen, so I must be just!"

Nonsuch

_{Gushiken Suna | 16 y/o | 5'3}

The Front

The Reverse

Emblem

A pair of color contacts, dying her dark eyes a brilliant, sparkling blue. Like the ocean on a sunny day. If she does not wear the complete set, she cannot transform. If one half is destroyed, her whole life is ended.

Sweet/Devil Arm

A child’s romanticized vision of what a war hammer ought to be. It is a metal stick the length of her body, ending with a hammerhead like a concrete block. Medals, like the sorts one would get pinned to their chest as a participation reward on Sports Day, are inexplicably stuck upon its surface. The number of medals grow, but what triggers the addition of more medals is unknown, except that it is not tied to the extermination of Miseria.

Magic

Attraction and Repulsion, centered upon Magical Girl and Armament.

Simply put, Nonsuch is able to pull herself towards or push herself away from her weapon or vice versa. The speed of the attraction is enough to be weaponized, and the force of the repulsion is enough to serve as transportation. As such, despite her propensity for wielding her weapon properly as a melee weapon, its true destructive potential is realized only when she treats it as a ranged weapon, to be thrown and pulled like a yoyo.

Background

What could be said, about a Magical Girl who has never fallen?

Suna’s family was reasonable. They were well off, her dad a chef specializing in Okinawan cuisine, her mother the branch manager of a high-end fashion outlet. She had a younger brother with the most adorably marshmallow-y cheeks there ever could be, and the family dog was big and fluffy, always cheerfully barking away.

Her household was always loud and hearty, exclaiming the things that Japanese people rarely did. What a wonderful it was, to wear one’s heart on their sleeve! Kindness and justice were things to glorify, and rightfully so! Her dad loved his tokusatsus, after all. Costumed warriors destroying evil with their fists, emblazoned with brilliant special effects and glorious theme songs. Her mother like her police dramas more, careful investigations and litigations showing just how far an intelligent villain could circumvent the broken justice system.

A cheerful, emphatic family life, contrasting to the tranquility, the platitudes, of the world beyond the walls. In her childhood, Suna decided that the world existed only in contrasts.

A Hero without a Villain was out of the job. A Villain without a Hero was just playing on Story Mode. The greater one was, the greater the other would be. Light and Shadow, each intensifying in response to the other!

What could be said, about a Magical Girl who has never fallen, other than how grateful she was for her Darker sisters?

After all, Hibusa Town was such a wonderful place for a runaway to be.

Sample Post

She can hear it.

The ringing in her ears, keeping herself awake at night. The sound of silence, of a city and home rendered to slumber, layered upon the ticking of a clock that would never need an alarm to be set. If she listened more carefully, she could reach deeper. Hear her heartbeat, her bloodflow, the grinding of bones and the gurgling of her stomach. Stillness had to be maintained though. Her mattress was cheap; the springs would creak if sh-

“Nyaa~”

She swung herself off her bed, turning to the source of the noise, even when she already knew it wasn’t what she thought it was. Just a scraggly stray, poking its head, then its body, through the boarded-up window. A torn ear, more skin than fur. Whiskers drooping like its head. A limp on the right side, as it scampered upon her bed, curling beside her. She had long stopped caring about the smell of cat piss that lingered on the sheets and moved to run her fingers down its back instead.

The clock ticked on. The cat fell asleep.

And Suna, who no longer could, peered through the gap that the cat had slipped in through, the light of the downtown core dazzling her dark eyes. A gem and the shadows it cast, even when light ought to have only been the domain of the sun's reflection. Artifice, found even in this little pocket of life carved pinned between mountain and ocean. Landslide or flooding. Oh, the perseverance!

The stray did not stir.

The stray did not stay.

Headers

Kurai Majokko

Struck by a desire to cook, when I should've been asleep three hours ago.

The Starry Night

"Can’t you see? I haven’t fallen, so I must be just!"

Nonsuch

_{Gushiken Suna | 16 y/o | 5'3}

The Front

The Reverse

Emblem

A pair of color contacts, dying her dark eyes a brilliant, sparkling blue. Like the ocean on a sunny day. If she does not wear the complete set, she cannot transform. If one half is destroyed, her whole life is ended.

Sweet/Devil Arm

A child’s romanticized vision of what a war hammer ought to be. It is a metal stick the length of her body, ending with a hammerhead like a concrete block. Medals, like the sorts one would get pinned to their chest as a participation reward on Sports Day, are inexplicably stuck upon its surface. The number of medals grow, but what triggers the addition of more medals is unknown, except that it is not tied to the extermination of Miseria.

Magic

Attraction and Repulsion, centered upon Magical Girl and Armament.

Simply put, Nonsuch is able to pull herself towards or push herself away from her weapon or vice versa. The speed of the attraction is enough to be weaponized, and the force of the repulsion is enough to serve as transportation. As such, despite her propensity for wielding her weapon properly as a melee weapon, its true destructive potential is realized only when she treats it as a ranged weapon, to be thrown and pulled like a yoyo.

Background

What could be said, about a Magical Girl who has never fallen?

Suna’s family was reasonable. They were well off, her dad a chef specializing in Okinawan cuisine, her mother the branch manager of a high-end fashion outlet. She had a younger brother with the most adorably marshmallow-y cheeks there ever could be, and the family dog was big and fluffy, always cheerfully barking away.

Her household was always loud and hearty, exclaiming the things that Japanese people rarely did. What a wonderful it was, to wear one’s heart on their sleeve! Kindness and justice were things to glorify, and rightfully so! Her dad loved his tokusatsus, after all. Costumed warriors destroying evil with their fists, emblazoned with brilliant special effects and glorious theme songs. Her mother like her police dramas more, careful investigations and litigations showing just how far an intelligent villain could circumvent the broken justice system.

A cheerful, emphatic family life, contrasting to the tranquility, the platitudes, of the world beyond the walls. In her childhood, Suna decided that the world existed only in contrasts.

A Hero without a Villain was out of the job. A Villain without a Hero was just playing on Story Mode. The greater one was, the greater the other would be. Light and Shadow, each intensifying in response to the other!

What could be said, about a Magical Girl who has never fallen, other than how grateful she was for her Darker sisters?

After all, Hibusa Town was such a wonderful place for a runaway to be.

Sample Post

She can hear it.

The ringing in her ears, keeping herself awake at night. The sound of silence, of a city and home rendered to slumber, layered upon the ticking of a clock that would never need an alarm to be set. If she listened more carefully, she could reach deeper. Hear her heartbeat, her bloodflow, the grinding of bones and the gurgling of her stomach. Stillness had to be maintained though. Her mattress was cheap; the springs would creak if sh-

“Nyaa~”

She swung herself off her bed, turning to the source of the noise, even when she already knew it wasn’t what she thought it was. Just a scraggly stray, poking its head, then its body, through the boarded-up window. A torn ear, more skin than fur. Whiskers drooping like its head. A limp on the right side, as it scampered upon her bed, curling beside her. She had long stopped caring about the smell of cat piss that lingered on the sheets and moved to run her fingers down its back instead.

The clock ticked on. The cat fell asleep.

And Suna, who no longer could, peered through the gap that the cat had slipped in through, the light of the downtown core dazzling her dark eyes. A gem and the shadows it cast, even when light ought to have only been the domain of the sun's reflection. Artifice, found even in this little pocket of life carved pinned between mountain and ocean. Landslide or flooding. Oh, the perseverance!

The stray did not stir.

The stray did not stay.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

_{@HereComesTheSnow@Conscripts@Krayzikk@VitaVitaAR}

There was only the slightest of shrugs from Serenity in response to her foe. She didn’t like his type either, the elusive, indirect, annoying type. Archers were proper battlefield threats, and in formation, presented a storm that had to be braved. Knife-throwing rogues though?

“Go lick your knife and save me the trouble.”

No one made a formation out of those; they neither had discipline nor accuracy, and only served as distractions, too drunk on buffoonery to even work as proper assassins of mages. All they had were a bag of tricks. Renar did too, of course, but at least he had the confidence in them to strike in close combat from the openings it created! This, however? Black smoke curled over the chaos of the battlefield and in response, Serenity leapt back herself. Not to retreat, but to mirror Steffen’s positioning. Her work was defensive until there was a greater opportunity, and under the smoke, her opponent could simply circumvent her if she remained still and cautious!

His daggers flashed through the smoke, his form lost within the shroud.

One clanged off the shield, a second missed as she slanted her form, and the third Serenity headbutted, the steel insufficient for piercing one of the sturdiest pieces of armor she had. Without hesitation, she kicked up the two knives that had dropped close to her. She flung one into the throat of an unlucky mercenary at her flank (lucky shot, she’d need more training to make that toss consistent), while the second she withheld, waiting for the smoke to clear and for her opponent to reveal themselves once more.

How strange it was, getting into a knife-throwing fight in the middle of a battlefield populated by cursed giants and madmen. But until the bastard Gerard and Steffen fought was felled, she would make sure that rogue before her was occupied.

Expedition to Isekai

---

//Day 1 | Location: Nameless Forest - Lakeside
_{@AThousandCurses@baraquiel@Nakushita@Yankee@Vertigo}

Tsubasa didn’t say anything else in return, only responding with a hug.

It was brief, but not at all spontaneous, and for a moment, Shun was enveloped in a warmth so much different compared to the heat of the fire or the Sun. What was a funeral for? What were tears for? To show that someone was loved. To show the grieving that others shared in their pain.

And as she separated from Shun, as they walked back to the others, she managed a smile towards Ayana too. The klutz was as clumsy with her words as she was with her feet, but the essence of it was all that Tsubasa wanted to say as well.

None of it was their fault. No one could blame anyone for being crushed by everything that happened. And so, if they were able to keep living, keep acting, past all this?

They were enough.

Breaking past the clearing, the three of them could see just how organized things had become. While Masato, Duncan, and Asahi struggled still to figure out a solution to healing the two most injured people amongst them, Daisuke and Ayano formed an unlikely pair as they organized the remaining students. Most of them looked glad for the distraction, in truth.

Kumi and Masami worked the fire, after having chased Kogen and Akito away from it. Both the boys stormed off in their own direction, the eyepatch-wearing Awakened muttering something about patrolling the perimeter before he strode off down the same path that Shun had moments ago. The Ito twins, after Sohei managed to work out whatever his whole deal with Rin was, busied themselves with trying to catch fish. Naturally athletic as they were, they managed to corner a couple, before Kunio’s cat-like reflexes ended with him practically slapping the fish out of the water, into the sharpened blade of Hana. Rin, on the other hand, utilized her newfound abilities as best as she could, drawing lines of cutting force that turned trees into firewood with such ease that it almost looked as if she was cheating. Even Ayano had been coaxed into helping out by her boyfriend, despite her professed exhaustion. Alongside Mayumi, whose pale face was already sunburnt and ashen (from the actual ash, not from trauma and despair), they gathered large rocks to line the growing fire with.

The lake was truly a bountiful place.

It almost made one think, for a moment, that they were back at the camping trip they had two years ago, where their teachers forced survival skills on them, only to then give up partway through and just have them make curry at the outdoors stove instead.

The fish crinkled, fats sizzling. They had no salt, and there was no clear idea whether or not it was even ‘tasty’, but Kumi didn’t look all too disgusted when she bit the tender meat. Then, she turned, spying the way the three new arrivals looked at her.

“No work, no food,” she said, in a way almost matronly. “If you’re rested up, then go help out, please.”

...

No matter what Maki wanted to shoot back in response, Asahi’s sheer helplessness gave her pause. It wasn’t really the right time to muck it up with an old friend of hers, after all. She grunted something indistinct and sat down instead, as if to say that if there was anything she could offer, she would.

Broken bones, after all, didn’t exhaust someone the same way that internal bleeding did. Outside of being a bit hungry and a lot thirsty, she had plenty in the tank to give.

Haruko raised her own hands up, stepping up onto the tips of her toes to smooth out the furrowed brow of her boyfriend. “It’s understandable,” she said. There wasn’t any sense of forgiveness in her tone, but she wasn’t the one to give it either. “But you’re not the sorta guy to just avoid talking about this after, right? Make Sasuke and Yuki better, Duncan. Then work things out with Shun, alright?” Her arms, so much thinner than his, wrapped around it, and then she was off, looking for anything she could help with.

Her body was still able, after all. And the atmosphere was too heavy for her to withstand, in the end.

All that was left now was Duncan, Asahi, and Masato, to do what they could.

On the brink of exhaustion, Asahi’s Cable emerged from the tips of his fingers once more, the pink-hued spidersilk so fragile that it looked as if it would be shredded by a light breeze. But, it held, a testament to his desperation, and it connected, slipping beneath the skin of his fellow Awakened, and…

They felt it.

It was a vice that seized their hearts, a panic that rushed into them unabated. Terror and grief. A crystal-cold understanding that Sasuke could be the next friend, the next classmate, the next loved one they had to bury. In an instant, the root of Asahi’s fears was crystallized, and that root turned into a jagged edge that tore right into Duncan and Masato’s skulls. This was what he felt. This was what he was feeling. This was what he will feel.

Agony and torment, reaching out even through layers upon layers upon layers of exhaustion and numbness. Flickers of memories, memories not their own, relayed like a broken projector through their half-blind vision, but alongside those memories, came a kernel of knowledge.

Facsimiles.

An important memory, a personal oath, a code or creed, made manifest with one’s soul. It was something that had been formed by instinct, by the Awakened in times of crisis. But…now? With their unformed Spirit, with intention and clarity…

Couldn’t they force their Minds to formulate the perfect solution here?

The threads snapped.

Their vision returned in full.

And though the bitterness and intimacy of the experience must have shaken them…they were no longer just groping in the dark now.