Avatar of FamishedPants

Status

Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current "Is this a joke? What, you think--You think I can't deal with a CAT?"
5 yrs ago
"You're a slave to history."
1 like
6 yrs ago
"He was infuriated to see Jinguuji-san eating with another man."
2 likes
7 yrs ago
"When you get to the point where you can laugh at your mistakes, you'll find new things to replace what you lost."
1 like
7 yrs ago
"Damn stupid sun, making it morning whenever it wants even though I'm sleepy. Who does it think it is? Doesn't it know it has me to thank for its continued existence? "
4 likes

Bio

You showed up.

One way or another, you've arrived at my profile. You've taken a wrong turn in an alleyway because you didn't pay enough attention to your map. You've heard of something cool and new and thought maybe you'd see what all the fuss is about? Or maybe it is that you noticed like me updating my status or were lurking through an RP or something I am in and just kinda clicked my profile, that happens too. Regardless, you'll come to learn that your actions have consequences. Not this one since you can always just, like, leave.

I have a few names and I don't mind being called whatever you fancy at that given time. KingofTheSpectrum, FamishedPants, ChadChadlainn. Any derivative of these is fine as well. Most tend to use Pants, however. I'm nearing my thirties and enjoy games, anime, V-tubers, and visual novels. You can find my still-obsolete list here as it contains everything important on it.

As for games particularly, I am a huge fan of Devil May Cry, Metal Gear Solid, Nier and its sequel, FFXIV, and recently, Project Wingman.I tend to lean towards shooters and action games, but I have also wasted 8+ years on League of Legends. I think the only games I tend to avoid are card games and sports games, but there can always be exceptions.

For anime, I tend to watch whatever looks entertaining. It doesn't have to be good. I've seen a lot of the generic, poor-quality isekai harems that are out there. It's difficult to remember what I actually genuinely like, but Chaika the Coffin Princess comes to mind, as well as FMA: Brotherhood. I'm currently enjoying Tokyo Revengers.

I've read my fair share of visual novels, as my list would tell you. I can't recommend going through Muv Luv Extra/Unlimited, then playing Alternative enough! Big fan of Rance, Grisaia no Kajitsu, and Demonbane as well. I could probably go on and on about them, but I'll stop here.

Also, fuck you, Broken.

Most Recent Posts

R y n e r




“Be bold; be just!”
Ryner Aurelius' motto

Personal Dossier

Name
Ryner Aurelius

Age
18

Gender
Male

Origin
Terra Nova

Appearance
A warm smile and a friendly aura dampen what might've otherwise been an imposing figure. Ryner stands at a height of about 6'1" and owns a lean build with fairly broad shoulders. He has a sharp chin, and he's been told on more than one occasion that he has "delinquent's eyes". His hair never seems to be taken care of, always left unkempt, and he is known to break dress code by adjusting his outfit to feel more comfortable. One might assume this means that he is not a particularly self-conscious person when it comes to appearance, but he also seems to wear gloves to hide his scarred hands, so perhaps that's not entirely true.

He would probably be considered fairly handsome were he to take more interest in better presenting himself.

Personality
Loud, tenacious, and decisive, Ryner is a man who many will remember even after a single encounter, but not always fondly. He does his best to embody the heroes of the show he watched when he was younger. He is hardworking, not one to faulter, and certainly never one to run away from anything. He values these traits highly and expects the same of everybody else. Of course, being so rambunctious is often draining on those that surround him. Thankfully, he has more than enough energy to make up for it.

Ryner is characterized by his fondness for shouting, a strong sense of justice and his willingness to act upon it, rather than his intellect or his cunning. He can be very stubborn when he sets his mind to something, can't tell a believable white lie to save his life, and is capable of switching gears faster than the eye can blink. One would also do well to remember the word "tactful" is not in his vocabulary. And while it's easy to write him off as nothing but obnoxious, nobody should ever have doubts that his heart is in the right place, even if his mind has to catch up sometimes.

Ryner is always seeking to improve himself, though he takes a very notable interest in doing so physically rather than mentally. His inability to stop halfway on something should be noted; he'll give it his all or he won't do it at all. He has a competitive spirit and often challenges people who seem to be strong to him a contest. Whether it's a sport, an actual fight, or even something such as an eating competition -- he doesn't care, he'll put his all into it. It is his belief that friendly competition breeds friendships that can tough out even the greatest of storms.

As a hyperactive person, Ryner's hobbies are sports and exercise. He isn't very patient and has a short attention span, so books don't exactly do it for him. He can, however, sit down and watch a show or a movie. He really enjoys action films, can't stand drama, and scary movies... well, he's not a coward, okay? He is most commonly seen running, and perhaps would have been on the track team in a different life.

Aurelius is not under the impression he is perfect. He knows he has a long way to go, and he constantly criticizes himself no matter how well he might do at anything. He's a perfectionist and cannot ever please himself, but showing as much outwardly is not heroic, so he bottles it up. While he has no trouble befriending and trusting individuals, he does find it hard to confide in them or otherwise bug them with his own problems as doing so would conflict with the nature of his definition of "Hero". He is more than willing to help somebody else, however. For the most part, it should be safe to assume that he does not knowingly cause other people trouble, and that a majority of it is due to ignorance.

Finally, he's got a bit of a temper and can be led around by the nose by people willing to exploit it. When faced with an obvious injustice, cowardice, and especially when his father is brought up, he gets heated real quick. He considers the word "coward" to be the absolute worst insult you can throw at him, and reacts rather strongly to even the implication that he is such. He knows this is problematic, yet he can't seem to control himself anyways. It is one of many things he wishes to improve about himself.

Background Information
The son of a renowned confederacy captain, Ryner's early life on Terra Nova was something to be envied. Far from the reaches of the conflict raging on, the young boy led a rather sheltered life. His earliest memories are of his excitement to watch the next episode of his favorite Super Rangers show, of exaggerated takes on Kalian Cyris' feats, and of awaiting to hear the next thing his father accomplished. These days of blissful ignorance, of idealistic hope, of happiness... they came to an abrupt end a few days before his tenth birthday, when his father, Kaiden Aurelius, become known as a deserter. The man's excuse was that he'd become terrified of the thought of dying before he could lay eyes on his daughter, who had yet to have been born at the time.

It became news anybody who was paying attention heard of. Everybody in the school he attended had made it obvious they were paying attention. From snickers behind his back, to ostracizing him, to eventually resorting to physical violence... Ryner was made to bear the sins of his father. At first, he did not respond much to the violence. He even seemed pretty submissive, but it was only a matter of time before someone called him a coward, comparing him to his father, which set ablaze his heart, and he fought back. He gained quite the temper, a reckless attitude towards physical violence, and over the years, became too much for his bullies to handle.

In this time, Ryner's relationship with his family had deteriorated. He became cold to his mother, blamed his younger sister for what happened, and resent is the prettiest word you could use to describe his feelings towards the man he once called "father". But perhaps his obsession with heroes saved him from getting too much worse. One day, a rerun of Cyris' courageous feats had aired, and watching this, Ryner became determined to be the hero his father wasn't. So, adopting a persona that was what he considered the "ideal hero", he started making his way through life again with vigor. He would stop at nothing to rid the world of any notion that he was, like his father, a coward. And one day, when approached by some important-looking people, he could only think of this Project Valkyrie as a chance.

A chance to become a hero!

Attributes & Other Information

Coordinator Type
PC

Coordination Profile
Awareness | ■■■□□
Composure | ■■□□□
Endurance | ■■■■■
Instinct | ■■■■□
Intellect | ■□□□□
T o r u



"Kept ya waiting, huh?"
Toru Ayanokoji

@Experiment 249 @Lucius Cypher


"Alright, well this little popsicle stand doesn't seem to be attracting many customers, so what say we keep on keeping on with just us three?" Toru suggested, his patience beginning to dwindle. There did not seem to be anybody else joining their little group. Would they be enough? As an improv comedian, Toru had to make do with what he had on hand, so to say, but having someone without their arms meant that perhaps they'd need to think outside the box more than the usual. At the very least, they needed to spice up the plan somewhat. Maybe sprinkle a little practical joke on top of the random beatdown that was originally suggested.

"We should do a little brainstorming between us, I'd think. I'm afraid that I know very little about the exact nature of everybody's quirks, so I can't think of the perfect plan just yet." he told them. With the righ Quirks, no prank was an impossibility. But one had to understand what weapon they wielded before they could use it. Toru looked to Lysandre. "For example, can you make an improvised slingshot with your quirk?"
S a m a n t h a



"My peace... it's gone."
Samantha Howard

Samantha was not one to stand out in a crowd. It was something she had worked on for quite some time, after all. She never wore colors that drew attention, she never raised her voice, and she always tried to make it through life without unnecessary conflict. That is why she was successful at her job. People who do not see her coming do not get to see her leave, as they die before they can even comprehend what has happened. That is the sort of perfect job Sam had done in the past. And the present. Sure, there was a bit of a losing streak when it came to the whole incident with Justine, but that was merely because Sam was not suited for team efforts. Her skill set was one of stealth and elimination, not... whatever that commotion had been.

She still got a headache thinking about it and how embarrassing it had been to need to be picked up by her employer! If there was one person in the world she did not want to show weakness in front of, it was Vermillion Veronica. Though she had a feeling it wasn't because Veronica was her boss...

Digression aside, Sam ate her food pondering what she should do in this situation. As a master of blending in, she had always been a bit disappointed with how Magical Girls typically stood out. Sure, some had abilities that could help them hide - she had gained such an ability rather recently as a matter of fact - but most seemed not to understand basic "rules" when it came to stealth and infiltration.

Take the Magical Girl who had just walked in, for example.

Not even for the slightest nanosecond was Sam under the impression that she was anything but. For you see, she had come to notice a trend among magical girls, and that was that they were all often physically younger than she was. They all also seemed to enjoy wearing things that stood out or acting in strange ways. Were they all looking for fights? The majority of them couldn't actually be declaring their magical abilities so flamboyantly on accident, could they? Dark colors, nothing exotic, head low, voice soft. She almost wanted to give this young girl a few tips, but the one thing Sam couldn't tell about this Magical Girl was whether or not she'd come here by coincidence or if she had some beef with her. It was a flip of the coin, really.

She mentally sighed.

Hah... why am I so unfortunate?

While outwardly, Samantha did not even seem to notice the girl occasionally stealing glances at her, she internally cursed this cruel world for its injustice. Hostile or not, for whatever reason, Magical Girls always seemed to attract trouble. Even had this girl no intentions of starting crap, Sam instinctively knew that crap was going to start regardless. It was basically a guarantee, of which little exist in life.

"Sir," she raised her hand, calling over her waiter. "Could I get my bill, please?"

She had managed to finish her food without incident, but if she stayed too long things were bound to get hairy. She was privy to this sort of thing. So, after a few seconds of waiting for the waiter to come back, she paid her bill. She only had to shell out around 9 bucks, which meant she had 6 left. That could pay for her dinner if she didn't go ham. "Thank you, sir." Politely, she got up to leave the Pitstop. No way in hell was she going to let this Magical Girl ruin her peaceful day. She opened the door to leave.

"AHHHHHHHH, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!" a panicked man whose expression told Sam that he'd just seen a ghost quickly shouted at her before running off. There were a few others also running away from the direction the man came.

She didn't immediately react. There was a moment of silence and no movement. During this time, a few customers had their phones go off. And after that?

"Something's going on just a bit up the road!"

"Some kind of attack, apparently! My friend said someone died!"

"We gotta get out of here!"

Panic. More panic. The nice, calm, and most importantly, quiet, atmosphere had evaporated in the span of a few seconds.

Sam audibly sighed, before turning to look at the Magical Girl. It was doubtful that anything the girl had seen up to that point could compare to even half the power of the glare Samantha shot her as if this situation was her fault solely. After doing so, Samantha left the Pitstop. She wasn't sure if she should head towards the danger, to exact revenge, or away from it, in order to reobtain her peace. But either way, she wasn't particularly in a hurry. What had taken could never be truly replaced.
Zachary Ackerson

also I guess George


It had taken far too long for Zachary to come to this conclusion, but he had come to it regardless. The conclusion he reached was thus: When it came to his fellow survivors' grouping up, sanity was not included. Everybody seemed to go batshit insane. Without fail, too. Not once had he witnessed a scenario in which a group of perhaps more than 4 including himself had done anything but spiral out of control. Something always had to go wrong. People with their agendas always screwing things up for the rest of them.

He couldn't imagine the reason why Thomas would want that damned handbook. Zach wasn't smart or cunning enough. His best guess would be that with it, Thomas could potentially find a way to kill someone without being found out. That, or it was a clue to escaping this maze or to their pasts. But frankly, since he'd just blown his fingers off willingly, one couldn't blame Zach for assuming the more chaotic possibility. And after this stunt, only the insane would try trusting him anymore.

Zachary sighed. He wasn't sure what to do. People were attempting to enact plans, some were trying to stop it. There was bloodshed, there were tears, there were accusations, there was so much bullshit going on his head was spinning. Why did he have to deal with this? Why did all of these people keep killing each other? They had a clear enemy. They had that dumb teddy bear and its 'children', so why fight each other? It was dumb. People were dumb. How was he supposed to trust any of these people if all they did was constantly get into situations that escalated into even worse situations?

I don't want to deal with them.

He had tried earlier, but it was much too late now. He couldn't trust these people, these sick individuals. Even the brightest stars were nothing but pitch black on the inside. He should've understood this after the last trial. Perhaps he was idealistic for far too long. He desired to be a man that his father could respect, but maybe that did not mean he had to make friends with everybody? No, it did not. He had one friend.

He only needed one. He only needed to trust one person, and so he'd do so.

"I think it's a great plan." Zachary agreed. "We'd be better off avoiding any bold moves during the Night of Carnage, it doesn't lead to anything positive. So it would be best to discourage that."

Quite obviously entertained at the whole situation, Henry slapped his knee and let out a hearty laugh. "Ya'll sure are quite sumthin', y'know?" he did not seem to care if this was appropriate or not, and continued to do so for a few seconds. Eventually, however, he regained composure...mostly. "Ahem... Well now. Ain't much care for this kinda thing, truth be told. Y'all can figure this one out on yer own, I'm nothin' more than a rookie farmhand 'round these parts anyhow."

George Henry turned to leave, but before he did, he looked at Zach and laughed. Apparently, he thought the young man's response was funny? Zach wasn't sure, but what that man thought wasn't especially important to him. He watched the cowboy leave the room, then awaited responses from everybody else still remaining.





*Crash*

An obnoxious, loud noise from the back of his shop startles an old man awake. He jumps to his feet, his heart racing. "What in the...?" He can't help but wonder what could have caused the commotion. He takes a moment, before looking at the clock. There are at least 30 minutes before he is open, so it shouldn't be a customer. Aside from the back of the place being employees-only, he does not unlock the front door until 5 till. He figures that if it is a person, then they must have broken in.

He grabs the bat he keeps hidden behind the counter.

The old man, Richard, slowly makes his way to the back of his shop, his bat clutched tightly. In a moment's notice, he could swing it down upon someone, easily ridding them of their consciousness. Still, his weapon does little to reassure him that things won't turn sour. A gun would provide him with a bit more comfort. But still, he continues further in. He notices that a door seems to be standing open in the back of his shop. It is not the back door, but a door leading to a small room which connects to the basement of the shop. Of course, the basement door is open. The intruder must be inside there.

He steels himself, taking a deep breath in before slowly descending the small flight of stairs. Each step he takes causes the wooden steps to moan, spiking his anxiety more than it already was. There was no way whomever, whatever was down there did not hear him approach. He had no element of surprise. In fact, it seemed to be quite the opposite. The lights in the basement aren't on, so the room is pitch-black. He momentarily feels around the wall with his free hand, searching for the switch to the light. When he finds it, he flicks it up, yet the lights do not come on. A vain attempt or two later, he comes to understand that the lightbulb must have died again. He could almost kill himself for forgetting.

I can't leave until I know there's nobody down here.

Richard was approaching his sixties. His time had come and gone, he wasn't in perfect shape like he'd once been. So the thought of having to fight some thief was not a pleasant one. But there was absolutely no way he could open shop if this place wasn't cleared out beforehand. He had a sense of pride as the owner of a small shop, he would never risk a customer's safety, so this had to be dealt with. Even in the complete darkness, he took a step forward, and that's when he suddenly noticed it:

Two glowing red orbs stood out in the pitch black! For a moment, they remained unmoving, but eventually, they had started towards him, creeping closer by the second. He wasn't sure what this was, but he attempted to ready his bat, only to almost drop it due to his sweaty palms. He panicked, and frantically tried to regain his composure and stance so he could meet these orbs head-on. It took a moment, but he finally did so, and then he looked up just in time to see...

S a m a n t h a



"Another dull day. Just how I like it."
Samantha Howard


Samantha approached the old man from the darkness, her gaze cast upwards towards him with a curious gleam to it. "Is something wrong, Mr. Davis?", she asked her employer. He wore a very complex expression but sighed in relief once he realized that she was no threat to him. Relaxing his grip on the bat, he gave a breathless laugh.

"I'm sorry, I heard something down here and thought you to be a crook!" he explained to her. Sam's features did not move, though she was confused by his reasoning. "What are you doing down here?" he asked, only to cause the young woman more confusion. Had he forgotten yet again? His old age must be catching up to him. She look backed into the pitch black basement before looking back to him.

"You asked me to help you with a few boxes." she spoke. "So I came by to do just that. You don't remember?"

He scratched his head for a moment, presumably trying to recall the conversation before his eyes opened wide in realization. "Ah, yes, that's right. I did ask you to stop by." he repeated, only to meekly add, "I suppose... I did kinda forget. Memory's not what it once was, I'm afraid." Samantha merely sighed in response. "But what was all that racket? Are you hurt?" he worried.

"I'm perfectly fine." she assured him. "You didn't change the lightbulb so I had to use that old flashlight of yours, and then that died, so I wound up accidentally spilling a box while I stumbled around in the darkness." she lied. Her expression, however, remained as unreadable as ever. And having no reason not to trust the girl, he nodded.

"That's my bad, missie. I'll have the bulb changed and that flashlight replaced before I ask you to help down here again. That's a promise." he gave her a firm pat on the shoulder. "Now, you should run along for now. Ain't no way you're gonna get much done down in the dark. And here," he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed her a $10 and a $5. "Here's for your trouble, consider that my apology miss. You haven't eaten yet, I take it?"

Samantha reluctantly took the cash from the old man, silently pocketing it. "No, I have not." she told him. He gave her a big smile, another pat on the back, and then shoo'd her up and out of the store. By this point, it had been close to thirty minutes since the noise startled the old man awake. He turned the sign on his door from "Closed" to "Open", and then gave a wave to Samantha. She gave a small bow and thanked him before taking off.

"I suppose I'll take his advice and get something to eat."

Samantha shared a simple relationship with Richard Davis, the owner of a small antique clock shop. Sam did not have a house, nor did she own very much of anything, really. When it came to a normal, everyday life that did not involve her true job, Samantha was just some homeless girl who helped around an old guy's shop. It was as simple as can be. She helped him with his shop when he asked, and he provided her with a meager, yet important source of income. Most people might not be happy with such a setup, but Samantha almost couldn't ask for something better. She was, surprisingly, very thankful for the opportunity. Richard was a very kind man, too. This was not the first (and perhaps not the last) time he'd gifted her with some food money because of a mistake he'd made. She couldn't tell him that darkness was no longer of worry to her, of course. But, if she were to be completely honest, he was probably the only person who'd ever shown such kindness to her.

In these past few weeks, she was beginning to experience things, feelings she'd never once experienced before. Though she was not certain if these were good or bad things.

...

...

...

Samantha eventually ended up in a certain themed establishment she'd met Veronica in once before. If any place was good to eat, it was probably there. She wouldn't be ordering coffee, however. She entered the Pitstop, taking note of the small number of people that were in it. It wasn't especially crowded, but Sam preferred it that way. She ordered a simple breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, and then began to eat.

To the public, she was nobody special. And that's exactly how she liked it.
Don't listen to this Debbie Downer, go to Danbooru/Gelbooru, be a chad. A REAL MAN finds a proper imagine among the sea of lewds!




Though he took note of the man's name, Father "Whiskey" was of no real interest to the young man attempting to leave the room. Right now, Alistair's sole goal was to discover just where they were and, if applicable, when. Like any reasonable man, he had his doubts that this could be some new fantasy land. Such an idea would normally be preposterous, after all. But the appearance of that "Talus" individual, as well as their entire situation, felt rather unique... and real. The easiest way to reach the truth was to investigate their surroundings. There were people outside, so it was natural that asking them should yield some information.

Yet, there was a wall impeding their progress. His progress. And Alistair had unfortunately bumped into said wall.

"Geh!"

Almost in disgust, Alistair grunted, taking a step back after colliding with this "wall". He took a moment to inspect it, raising his eyebrow to the being's appearance. At least as far as he was concerned, people did not typically wear any form of metallic armor. Maybe if this person was some sort of cosplayer, but he severely doubted this being the case. The armor looked and felt much too real for it to be purely a cosmetic item. And if it was indeed actual armor... then the weapon this woman was showing off had to also be real.

A chill was sent down the arrogant man's spine, but his features did not display any signs of fear. He wasn't "scared", he was just "cautious". His instincts were yelling at him to do whatever he could to avoid further interaction with the knight before him, but his pride was on the line here. And that was, as far as he was concerned, the more important voice to listen to. Especially because the feminine one coming from the knight was... rather insulting.

"Bastard? Me?" he repeated, his ire unhidden. "I don't care what sort of asshole you're working for, if he's so angry at me, then he shouldn't send some armored bitch in his place!"

Angrily, he swung his fist at the woman's face, cleanly connecting the punch with more than enough force to knock someone of her size on her ass and probably out of the fight.

Well, had she been just another human being. But she... was apparently more. Instead, the young man felt a shock run through his body, starting from his hand, as soon as said punch landed. He knew immediately that it had broke, and with an audible grunt, he fell to his knee and grabbed the wrist of his broken hand. It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever been in, but still... I've heard of a strong chin, but that's not normal at all...!

"The fuck is wrong with you?!" he spat out, glaring defiantly at the woman.
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