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15 days ago
Current I just found out my favorite MMO will be shutting down its servers in December. What a terrible 4th of July gift.
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2 mos ago
Characters are like pinatas, the real fun comes when you break them.
16 likes
3 mos ago
Berserk is going to be back from hiatus on the same day Avengers: Endgame is releasing! April 26th is going to be the best day ever!
1 like
4 mos ago
Do you ever finish a post for an RP, then secretly hope that someone will read it and tell you they couldn't help but cry at the imagery you tried to express?
5 likes
4 mos ago
15 years later and we're finally getting a sequel to Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines. I hope it's as fun as the original.
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No, this was not the first time that Tristan had ever seen a kidnapping. Perhaps most people could not claim to have experience in such matters, but living countless lifetimes in a diverse set of bodies made it difficult for one to ever not live through a rare occurrence like this at least once. Despite this though, the hero stood flabbergasted, yes flabbergasted, that anyone would have the audacity to try and kidnap his newly acquired companion right in front of him.

For a decisecond that is. Long enough for him to blink his eyes once, take in the situation, and quickly evaluate the best course of action before he jumped into action. "Nimoa, keep that parasol above your head! I'm on my way!" he shouted as the vampiric young girl was dragged away. Racing after her at faster than normal human speeds, he would watch as the horse continued to put distance between him and the kidnapping victim, though catching up on his own two feet was not his intention.

Upon reaching the town gates, Tristan unsheated his sword and brought it down on the restraints that kept a horse tied to an incoming wagon. "What do you think you're doing?" the driver called out, shocked that anyone would be stupid enough to steal a horse not only in front of its owner, but in front of the town guard as well.

"Hero business. I need her now much more than you do," Tristan said, climbing into the saddle and giving chase. He was sure that Nimoa would scold him for doing something so unheroic as stealing, but he was confident he could use the excuse that he was borrowing the horse to quell her ire. For now, he was more concerned in making sure that she would have the opportunity to be mad at him.




Already, Tristan was beginning to have second thoughts. Vampires were dangerous creatures, capable of spreading death and destruction where ever one went, let alone an army. He had defeated enough Vampire Lords and would-be undead conquerors to know that giving them free reign on this world's surface could cause an untold number of problems for this world's inhabitants without the checks and balances already set in place. Still, he had already given his word that he would help, and pulling out now would only make him look as foolish to these two as he knew he was. He hoped that the existence of girls like Nimoa meant that the majority of her kind would be more like this rather than the Nosferatu and Dracula-kind. With his luck though, he was sure that wasn't the case.

"You can all me Tristan." It's the only thing I seem to remember clearly at this point. "Now, why don't we try looking for a cartographer or such somewhere in town for a more updated map. Going into some place dangerous with outdated information is likely to get us ki- in a lot of trouble." Even if she was a vampire, the hero thought it best to avoid putting such morbid thoughts as death into her head. He'd gotten away with mentioning death a few moments before, but he had enough experience with kids to know that reminding them that life on Earth was limited and one day they all would find themselves breathing their last was bound to cause more tears. Except him of course. He was going to outlive them all, much to his chagrin.
As the small vampire girl began to break into tears, Tristan couldn't help but scowl at the sound, even replying to it with an irritated low growl. He hated hearing children cry. Who didn't? Just watching her wail before him made the hero want to walk away as far as he could from Nimoa and find a much quieter place to wait for his companions' return.

However, despite the countless years transforming the hero into a jaded asshole, there was a reason that fate had chosen him of all people to be said hero. Despite the hardships and cruelty he had faced, he still did the right thing when destiny called upon him. "Alright 32, let's hear this new plan of yours. Maybe I can help with this one. Especially if it involves punching a bad guy or fetching some magical artifact. I've gotten quite good at those." Even if I've gotten tired of them showing up so often.
@Suku@The Irish Tree

In another life, at another time, the small vampire girl would have melted Tristan's cold heart. Her adorable demeanor, the naive request for help, the cute way she seemed so shy about asking for his help. Even the the almost funny way she seemed to completely disregard her own self-preservation by standing under the burning sun as she waited for his response. In fact, he recalled in some previous lives having his own children that acted as so.

That was just it though. Like everything else, he'd seen it all before.

Looking over to the demon woman that seemed to be little Nimoa's friend, he lifted up his hand to point to the parasol that the child-like vampire had left behind. Valkira, after all, was still standing next to the rubble that had been a fountain where the umbrella had been left, so it would be more convenient if she brought it over. In the mean time, he would get down on his knees, bringing him at just about eye level with the girl.

Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to pat out the embers that were transforming into burning flesh, he would begin his disappointing speech. "Listen 32, I know firsthand that the Sun can be detrimental to you and your race, but I've got bad news for you. You see, while standing too long out in it's direct light might kill you over time as it's doing right now," Tristan said, watching as her other shoulder began to ignite as well and switching to patting that fire out before it grew further. "The opposite is true for other species like myself. If the Sun goes out, over time it will have negative effects on the world. Things like plants and trees will die out, species will go extinct. A really bad time for most people involved. Not to mention that the Sun is larger than this world, only appearing small because it's so far away, so there would be no possible way to put the thing out without some serious magic."

When Valkira arrived with the parasol, Tristan would take it and hold it above the girl's head to help prevent further damage from the Sun. "It may suck to hear it, but it's best that you give up on your dreams. Think smaller so you can achieve something more possible and avoid living with years of regret over wasted effort," he finished, blunt and to the point.
As Tristan looked upon the destruction wrought upon the town's courtyard by (the falsely assumed) C-3, the young man couldn't help but release a heavy sigh. That was now two innocent villages that had been damaged by his rash party members and he was already predicting that they were far from the last. Had he really found his adventuring party in this world or was he actually helping the baddies? Perhaps it was Charlotte he needed to defeat so he could move on to the next world. Looking back upon how their journey had progressed so far actually, that theory was beginning to gain weight. Before it could be given any further serious thought though, the stench of death suddenly wafted toward him.

Those who lacked the life experiences he had accumulated over the years, may have been mistaken that death held only one stench. That being the all too common smell of decay and filth that one might find on a battlefield or in a plague-ridden hospice. However, each of the various undead among worlds carried their own unique smells. Zombies and such tended to be the most disgusting, causing the weak of stomach to commonly lose their lunch when a horde was close. Poltergeists tended to leave behind that strange, green goop in frequent hauntings, which smelled like eggs that had gone bad. Vampires though? Their smell usually reminded Tristan of embalming fluid and blood.

Before he could begin to track down the undead monster in their midst, she would make herself known by turning to look at him with a motion that reminded the hero of an own twisting its head around. This, followed by the fang-filled smile she showed him, would not put Tristan's nerves at ease. His hand would begin to move toward the sword that sat within the scabbard at his hip until he picked up what she said to her newfound friend. Help? What could she possibly need my help for? Relaxing his stance but still keeping a hand ready at his side, the hero approached the two girls at the destroyed fountain.
Tristan let out a short, sarcastic laugh at Charlotte's question before actually giving an answer to her casual question. Though it probably wasn't what she would have enjoyed hearing, further enforcing her image of him as a "big meanie." "Fun? It might have been the first handful of times, but after more than... I don't know. Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? We'll just say a million times saving the world, it's gotten bland and generic. I can't see how your world will shock me at this point." With that, he'd take another bite out of the chimera leg that he held in front of his face like an over-sized drumstick.

With their meal complete, Tristan would relax upon the cave rocks, not caring much about the continued absence of their still missing companion. Whenever the worried Charlotte would vocalize her concern though, he'd shoot her a glare as the demon kept the hero from napping. "I'm sure she's fine. Probably blowing up a hill somewhere in order to find some flint and steel to munch on."

Not long after he stated his disinterest though, Charlotte would suddenly become aware of C-3's dire situation, rushing off and leaving the hero behind in the dust. "God, I hate random encounters. Just get the main plot done with and stop distracting us with bull," he said with a sigh before pushing himself up from the hard rock face. "Wait Charlotte! Don't just rush into any fights! You'll get us blown up again!" he called out, carrying his sword and shield with him.
This looks awfully gay. Like not in a homophobic way, but in the 'this looks like something straight out of a yuri hentai' way. Hell, I'm pretty sure I recall being in this exact situation a dozen times at least. As both the person walking in and the person being walked in on. Trying to forget some of the more embarrassing moments of his myriad of previous lives, Tristan would take his mind off things by ignoring the totally subtle and not at all overt lesbian undertones happening a mere handful of feet away from him and instead work on cleaning himself of all of the chimera's blood.

Scrounging through the bag of items that he had spawned into this world with, he attempted to find something to wash himself with. When he found a large sponge at the bottom of the bad, he looked neither surprised nor ecstatic over his discovery. It wasn't rare for things work out for him like this, but it didn't mean he liked it. In fact, living a life without any small inconveniences like this made it quite boring. The only problem that ever existed seemed to be those that somehow tied back to whatever big bad evil guy he needed to defeat this time.

With a sigh, he rose back up to his feet and exited the cave again, letting out another sigh when he saw the small stream that flowed a stone's throw away from him. Again, no problems other than those caused by the devil king, either directly or indirectly. His two companions would most likely be just about finished cooking today's meal when he got back, unless some other complication came up between them.
As he traveled further into the forest, away from the cave they had taken shelter in, Tristan would hear a familiar sound. That of a full-grown chimera calling out. Compared to the other noises of the forest, it stood out, being a mix between a roar, a bleat, and a hiss all within one sound. It reminded him of something one would hear from an amateur DJ audio mixing several noises to incorporate within their newest hit. The thought of why it would be crying out did occur to him for a moment, but his curiosity didn't stay long. He knew that he would discover the reason once he had reached the clearing that the beast was calling from.

When Tristan saw the chimera, chained to one of the thick trees of the forest, he began to consider his options. From experience, chimera meat was awfully good, what with having a large variety of flavors depending on which part of it you ate from. Finding one was quite fortuitous indeed. However, if it was chained here, then that must mean it belonged to someone. Someone who most likely planned on returning for their strange pet. Perhaps they used the creature as a sort of bloodhound to hunt other creatures that lived here? Whatever the reason, it wasn't his.

Drawing his sword, Tristan alerted the beast to his presence. All three heads turned towards his direction as he approached and the chimera let out a threatening noise as it recognized the malicious intent the hero had. He had recognized that the creature was someone else's. He just didn't care. Food was food. If the owner wanted to keep the creature within their possession, they shouldn't have left it where it could be taken.

Charging at the chimera, he would dodge the snake head that lunged at him, duck underneath the sharp claws that swiped at him, and sidestep the headbutt from the goat's head, until he slid underneath the body. Killing each head was usually the most effective way to kill a chimera, but carrying back the body and the three heads would be a pain without a cart or other mode of transportation, so he intended to keep the body in one piece. Thrusting his blade upward, he aimed for the heart that beat within its massive chest, intending to end the fight with a single blow.




Thirty minutes later, Tristan would appear at the mouth of the cave, the chimera's corpse upon his back. Both were covered in blood, the hero having discovered the hard way that he had underestimated how limited his powers had become now that he had spawned in this new world. He expected to receive a significant downgrade compared to worlds past, but not to this extent. The hero wouldn't have even been capable of carrying the body, had the fight not jumped him from level 2 to 7. It didn't matter in the long run though, as upon closer inspection, one could see that none of the blood was his. The chimera, however, was covered in lacerations and deep cuts.

"73. 51. One of you two cook up this chimera. I need to sit down for a few minutes."
"Hey 73, I think your slime is faulty. From the looks of it, she's about to strafe us from above," Tristan said as he watch C-3 grow and transform into her dragon-like form. When he had seen this the first time, a winged beast made of goo charging at him from above, maw open and ready to turn him and his party to ash, Tristan had been shaking at his boots. In this very moment though, he would lie still underneath Charlotte's meager chest, ready to accept whatever came next. Either he would just be further injured or some convenience would allow him to survive. There was no point in worrying over an outcome he had no control over.

As he expected, she wasn't able to hold the form for long, nose diving back to the ground like a bullet riddled fighter plane. "Amazing, I'm sure that ability will be incredibly useful for making a mid-boss turn his pants brown before laughing his ass off at us," he said with an eye roll. "Your designation shall be 51 now, unless you prefer other shapes as well. In that case you'd be 32."

Upon arriving at the cave which would become their safe haven, Tristan let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he could begin to heal, without being jostled around by Charlotte's uncomfortable arms. "Now if I can just get a few quite moments of rest, I can begin to hea-" he had begun to say, before being interrupted by the demoness' proclamation to the skies. Followed by nauseatingly long laughter. This woman needed an off button.

Dream Music

Awakening on a large, green hill, Tristan pushed himself up from the grass that tickled his back. Placing a hand above his eyes to block out the bright rays of the Sun, he looked out upon the valley and took in the landscape. Mountains, rivers, and forests stretched out as far as he could see, where once his vision would only be filled with the gray shadows of skyscrapers and buildings. Here he felt at home, among this viridescent paradise. And down at the foot of the hill he sat upon, he knew his friends were waiting.

Running down the slope, he smiled as he approached the familiar faces, waving back to them as they greeted him with equally large grins. The five of them had braved through everything this world had thrown at them and come out together only closer together. He was their leader, the prophesied hero, but he couldn't have done it without each and every one of them. There was... There was... What were their names?

As he got closer and closer, his vision began to blur. The demon kid, who had black hair as dark as the night. Or was it red like the flames of Hell? The big brother, who made sure everyone was always safe behind his enormous tower shield. Or did he wipe out attackers before they could get close with a tremendous battleaxe? The elven rogue, who darkened the sky with her countless arrows. Or did she sneak behind enemies and stab them in the back with her twin daggers? Most of all though was the girl he loved. He could always count on her to give him a shoulder to cry on when things got tough, her soothing voice comforting him when the world felt like it was crushing him beneath it's weight... What was her name?

As he got closer, their faces began to blur. Colors changed, bodies distorted, personalities morphed. Was it five or eight? Were they saving the kingdom or the entire world? Was he a boy or a girl? Was he even human? He couldn't remember. It was too long ago. Not even a lifetime, but countless lifetimes. How many worlds had he been to?

Finally within reach of his friends, he thrust out his hand to take theirs. He wanted to hold on to what remained of them in his memories. Anything he could recall. A name. A face. A voice. Anything. As soon as his fingers touched hers though, the world around him cracked like delicate glass. Soon it would all be gone. He looked around at his friends and saw them fade, like ash being swept away by the morning wind. The flash of one last smile, lips moving to tell him the three words that made every day bright again, and she would disappear with them. Everyone gone. Only he remained in the ruined remains of worlds cobbled together. People, places, and objects all taken from one another and stitched back like an odd patchwork quilt. It never felt quite right. Each one was missing something the first had. But he couldn't remember what it was.

What was her name?

The answer would never come, as Charlotte's groaning would awaken Tristan from his nightmare. He was covered in sweat, the ground beneath him damp with perspiration. So much so that the single tear that hung from his chin wouldn't stand out among everything else. With a groan finally answered the demoness' request. "I'm the one you almost burned to a crisp. You should be the one feeding me." Of course, due to the power of having the world revolve around him, the chosen one was much better than when he had gone to sleep last night. In fact, other than some minor burns here and there, he looked just as he had when he came to this world. And he knew that.

Rising to his feet, Tristan took his belt and tied it around his waist again, making sure that the sword at his hip was secure. "Fine. I'll go bring us back a chimera or something. Only because I don't feel like eating charred meat," he said, ducking out of the cave to begin hunting. With his experience, it probably wouldn't be long until he returned.
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