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3 yrs ago
Current Goodbye Miura. One of my favorite fantasy authors of all time has gone too soon.
13 likes
4 yrs ago
Don't forget, they made another new hero named Screentime. A meme loving superhero who got his powers from exposure to internet gas. He has the ability to basically be a smart phone.
4 likes
4 yrs ago
Sometimes I open up a new tab on my browser and I forget what I intended to do with it... What am I doing here again?
6 likes
4 yrs ago
When did I do that?
7 likes
5 yrs ago
Whenever you're feeling down, just remember that this man is cheering you on: youtu.be/KxGRhd_iWuE
2 likes

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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.
"73, I want you to know-" Tristan began to say before going into a fit of coughing. He had never tried a cigar before, but he had a feeling that the pain he felt while trying to breath was similar to what a hard smoker would feel after years of doing nothing but. "If I don't make it, you need to know this," he struggled to say, lifting his hand into the air as she continued to carry him away from the angry mob.

As if for dramatic tension, the hero would find himself incapable of continuing his message to the demon princess, not until Charlotte found herself able to ask him what his important message was. "I want you to know... that you are... without a doubt... THE ABSOLUTE WORST GODDAMN COMPANION I'VE EVER HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF PARTYING UP WITH!" he shouted, the immense anger he felt toward the girl temporarily overriding the immense pain he felt from trying to speak. Though his criticism would immediately be followed by more coughing. As soon as he was able to, he promised himself that this fiery redhead would receive a hard thwack to the back of the head for all the trouble she had caused him.

Shifting to his side to look behind Charlotte, he chose to acknowledge the presence of their new party member. "So what's your story, slime? Were you shanghaied into having to work for this airhead as well?" Tristan asked C-3, unaware that the small, gelatinous girl identified herself as a the great beasts of calamity that rules the skies of many a fantasy world. Not that he cared. It would only solidify her position as the 51st companion he'd met to have such a wish.
Log Horizon

"Sidekicks like you are proof that God hates main characters like me," Tristan muttered, very much unamused towards the demon princess' comment. After all, with how much he had already dealt with through the curse that he called a life, who could a higher being possibly have any more contempt for than him? He didn't see anyone else having to live through an endless existence of the same monotonous adventure day-in and day-out.

As Charlotte did what he said though, raising her hand and summoning forth her own inner fire to smite the weak creatures around him, Tristan moved to a nearby tree to lean against its trunk and watch the display of power. He watched with mild interest as the flames danced around her fingers, like a snake slithering through several obstacles, before coalescing at tip of her index.

Then his vision went white.

When he awoke, his body felt like it was on fire, every inch of him in immense pain. Then he realized that was because he had actually been set ablaze moments ago by the numskull he called a teammate, his entire body covered in burn scars. He'd felt much more intense pain before, but that didn't mean it didn't still hurt. "You absolute idiot," she would hear his dry throat whisper out to her as he lied draped across her arms. "I've been stabbed in the back by a companion before, but you can't tell me that you're so careless to do that accidentally."

Fighting against the pain, the hero would wave his burnt arm in front of his face, trying to swat away the message that had suddenly appeared before his eyes. Level 2! "Stupid interface. I don't care if I leveled up if it means being burnt to a crisp by my partner." It looked like quite the pathetic display as with how weak his injuries had made him and the fact that he hadn't attempted to stand up on his own. She had created this problem, so Charlotte would fix it. Or she could expect this partnership to not be a long lasting one, not with her burning literal bridges.
Some people can have the personality of soggy cardboard, but if they're heroes who can do anything, even that won't keep women away. That was what Tristan had planned to say, thinking back to that time he found himself stuck inside a fantasy world where everyone else seemed capable of noticing the video game elements in their world, even if the elements used didn't make much sense. He found himself thinking that about the majority of worlds he had been to, though that world in particular he disliked more than the others.

Before he could vocalize his thought though, another attack would come towards his new companion, one that would launch the two into the air. "What the hell did you do to be blown up twice in the span of ten minutes?" the hero would ask Charlotte as they plummeted back down to the Earth below. Admittedly, she might not have heard him over how loud the wind blowing past them was.

Eventually though, they would make landfall after crashing through several tree branches and foliage. He could feel a warmth above his head as several strands of his red hair had caught fire, but he didn't seem to care. Until Charlotte put it out herself, he had planned to just let it burn out whenever it did. Having recovered from the slime's attack, he had planned to walk off in a random direction where a town might or might be, but the demonette seemed to intent on taking the lead as she grabbed his hand and pulled him deeper into the forest.

Tristan would look towards Charlotte as she tried to teach him the basics of swinging a sword, though if she paid attention to his blank expression she could have figured out that his mind was somewhere else. By now he had learned how to use just about any weapon someone could think of, so this wasn't even a review, it felt more like an insult. Being forced to start by fighting slimes didn't make that feeling disappear either. "Can't you just burn them all with a fire spell or something so we can move on to something actually somewhat challenging?" the hero asked, cutting an attacking slime in half without even looking in the creature's direction.
As Charlotte gave her big introduction, Tristan completely ignored her and read over the paperwork she had filled out, looking over her answers with those dead, lifeless eyes of his. He hadn't even noticed the mid-boss in the distance crying out her own deceleration of war against him and any that join his party as he made sure to not miss any details. He would hate to assign this girl her designation, only to find she fits better within another category. It would completely throw off his count. Demon Princess who joins the hero to overthrow her parent and will most likely stab me in the back after I defeat him for her because she's otherwise useless in most combat situations? I think that makes her number 73.

Before he could announce the official number he'd be calling her for the rest of their adventuring together, she would ambush him with a sudden surprise hug. While his powers allowed him to avoid serious injury and death like C-3's fireball from earlier, having his air crushed out of his lungs didn't seem to fit under that umbrella. "Hnng," was the sound that escaped his lips as Charlotte began to crush his spine.

Once she had finished showing her appreciation towards him allowing her to join his party, a message appeared before his eyes like some MMO RPG. Dammit. Another fantasy world that relies on video game mechanics. What ever happened to just normal fantasy? It felt like nine-tenths of the worlds I've been to were created by some nerd who can't think of a magic system that isn't based on an RPG they played as a kid. Tristan would attempt to swipe the notification away like some other worlds he'd been to had allowed him to do, but unfortunately it seemed to stay put, leaving him to wait for it to disappear on its own for several agonizing seconds.

"Alright, one last thing before we go though. Please sign this last document," the hero said, holding out a several page long document. If Charlotte attempted to read or skim it, the general gist was that whoever signed their name would be locked into a legally binding contract that they would never, under any circumstances, attempt to start or join a harem that involved Tristan Mallory. He had had enough of those after about ten worlds into his cursed existence.
Not far from where the future Demon King of [World Name] would be enjoying her breakfast, a lone figure would open his eyes in a field of grass. His eyes were devoid of any enthusiasm or passion as he pushed himself up onto his feet, taking a look at the armor and weapons he had spawned into this world with. "Sword." He swung the weapon at the air, the blade whistling as it cut through nothing and doing no damage to anything around it. "Non-magical... Shield." He battered the front of the shield with the blunt end of his sword, the weapons ringing from the impact but doing nothing else spectacular or out of the ordinary. "Also non-magical... Armor." The hero inspected his clothing and shrugged with disinterest. "Starter gear." Finally, he lifted his hand and concentrated, pointing his palm at the nearby treeline. "No powers either." With the inspection finished, he let out a bored sigh. "At least I have clothes this time and not a useless smartphone."

Dragging his feet as he lazily walked across the field, the hero would pass the treeline and head into the forest, wondering to himself who would be the first living being he'd see. A damsel in distress? Some starving wolves? A useless goddess? Maybe all three. That would probably be the twelfth time now, if that were the case. Instead though, the cursed man would see Charlotte and overhear the conversation she was having with herself. Another bored sigh would escape his lips as he considered walking in the other direction. "Let's just get this over with."

Charlotte would hear the sound of metal clicking into place as the hero she had been waiting for seemed to be setting up a portable table right here in the middle of the forest. Upon the table were pens, staplers, and several piles of paperwork that all had been neatly set up to be presentable and pleasing to the eye. "My name is Tristan Mallory and today I will be your world's hero who shall defeat whatever evil is currently threatening it. Please sign here," he told the demoness, holding out an application for her to fill out. "Don't bother giving me your name, I won't bother to remember it. Just tell me your sex, race, age, where you see yourself in five years, and any special abilities you may have."

As he waited for the demoness to give her answer, a ball of flame seemed to somehow track the woman down like a heat-seeking missile. Tristan could see it approaching, but made no effort to try to dodge or block the attack, instead watching with that same neutral expression of his as the spell found its target. Once the flames of the explosion died down, the smoke clearing out from the two's vision, Charlotte would see the immediate area turned black from C-3's fastball special. All except the patch of grass the hero sat at. It stood pristine and untouched, as if unaware of the destruction surrounding him. If your form was turned to ash, please take another from the desk."
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