HokumPocus

Super Monster Fighter Team 6 (Anime/Tron inspired RP)

On second thought it might be wiser for me to wait and see what each symbol/motif consists of thoroughly before getting dibs on one, so my whole "IM AGILITY EKS DEE" is cancelled. I'll just wait for more info to be up lol

Super Monster Fighter Team 6 (Anime/Tron inspired RP)

My guess: The machine is only visible to those six people and that's why it's completely empty, and the odd future tech being used on the arcade machine adds to the mystery and makes the characters curious to wait around for other people to approach the machine, which shouldn't take too long since every other game in the populated arcade is full.

Super Monster Fighter Team 6 (Anime/Tron inspired RP)

Eh, I can make it work

Super Monster Fighter Team 6 (Anime/Tron inspired RP)

Does this unfold in a particular country or will the location be left vague? Also, I think my character idea could fit agility pretty well, even more so now that you've revealed it's represented by a butterfly symbol.

Super Monster Fighter Team 6 (Anime/Tron inspired RP)

Im strongly leaning towards agility if you don’t mind. This concept sounds noice

Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages [Gaslamp Fantasy] [Completely Dead]

Mark quietly followed Berke’s suggestion and accompanied him in turning in their forms, confident in his speech abilities and eager to follow the directions of his superiors.

---

Mark’s body remained stiff as a board as soon as he slipped his tail through his chair. A written test! He stared at the sheets of paper in front of him as if they were wild animals to be dominated and trained. The vision-blocking magic surrounding him was bewildering and intensified all of his emotions in the way that a sensory deprivation tank does. He gazed harder at his test.

Mark answered the reading and writing portions mediocrely. He was well acquainted with the world of spelling and grammar due to being such an avid reader, and occasionally creating his own comics every now and then (a badly kept secret) so questions covering the basics found themselves conquered. Although anything more complex than that was incredibly confusing, he wasn’t about to admit defeat and leave a single question go unanswered. Thus, no matter how little he knew about a given subject Mark would find SOMEthing to fill in the blanks with. And how little he knew.

Mathematics was a completely foreign subject. He knew what numbers were, but anything beyond counting them one by one was on the same level as rocket science, magic, and rocket science magic. The science section was just as confusing, maybe even more so, as a diagram of the female body made Mark experience twelve different emotions simultaneously. He quietly drew a gun on the male body and continued.

The general magic knowledge portion of the exam was the liberation from the madness, since it contained questions that he was equipped to answer. His favorite superheroes oftentimes gave lengthy dramatic monologues over magic types and magic classifications, so Mark had the information engraved inside of his brain. Filtering that information from everything that was attached to it was another problem entirely, however and the end result were answers that were technically right but consisted of blocky paragraphs that relied heavily on examples. “FOUNDATION MAGIC IS WHAT SUPERHEROES LIKE THE STEAM STRIKER USE DUE TO THEM INVOLVING……. LIKE IN VOLUME 34 IN THE BEGINNING WHEN ALL THE UNOCTOCAN FIGHTERS USE FRIENDSHIP TO…… SORT OF LIKE THE CHARACTER….” It was possible that his answers weren’t all the most correct, but they were certainly the largest. His handwriting only added to the overwhelming effect that his responses gave off, consisting of exclusively capitalized letters that were surprisingly neat and written with extreme, unnecessary pressure. Writing is a window to the soul, they say.

The question “why are you here?” stood out from the others, and so did his answer.

“BE THE BEST SOLDIER. AND ASSIST IN UNLOCKING OTHER’S BEAST SPIRITS ALONG THE WAY.”

The second part was tacked on as he recalled the chimeras around him who were unwilling to embrace their monstrous characteristics and use them to their advantage. Coaching others was naturally implied from the start, but recent events made it seem like something that should be explicitly mentioned. With that question answered, it was time for the physical portion.

The one kilometer run was a positive activity for Mark, as it had been awhile since he had exercised. His above average endurance helped carry him through with no major problems. The long jump was a short affair thanks to a nice and agile frame. He did an average job at pulling the wagon, but once again maintained a steady and passionate attempt. It is important to mention that he was unleashing battle cries at various points throughout his challenges.

In the cafeteria he listened intently to what the upperclassmen had to say over the magic exams that would soon take place. They were entertained by his peculiar behavior and had taken various creative liberties throughout their accounts in order to rile him up as much as possible since it beat eating the same old pretentious soup and sandwich. Repeated cries of "WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARDS" rang strongly inside the building.

Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages [Gaslamp Fantasy] [Completely Dead]

Mark was competent when it came to reading other people. It was a vital part of his occupation, of course. He was completely and totally incompetent when it came to seeing the bigger picture, a conversation in this case. The results were predictable as he furrowed his eyebrows, chin in hand and listened to the chimera's apology. The boy's final words were aimed at Joseph, but Mark shot out a reply before he or the ever polite Berke could speak.

"DO NOT HESITATE IN COMBAT, SOLDIER. AS A CHIMERA, YOUR SOUL POSSESSES FEROCIOUSNESS AND FERVOR THAT A PLAIN HUMAN COULD NEVER OBTAIN NATURALLY. A TRUE MAN NEVER GIVES IN OR SUBMITS TO OTHERS, TWO THINGS THAT YOU HAVE DONE MULTIPLE TIIIIIMESSSSS!"

The word "times" was stretched masculinely like a flexed muscle, meant to be the killing blow of his sentence that would cause his listener to reflect and adapt like a warrior would. When a fish bites into a hook, a fisherman reels it in! Unless the fish in question has an equally potent amount of charisma, in which case the attempt was useless and has an effect similar to planting dynamite in a pond and then stabbing the body of water with a knife because it wasn't enough. "THE STRENGTH TO PERSERVERE LIES WITHIN YOU. NEVER SURRENDER!" The last bit was taken from a comic book, but his listeners were likely unaware of that.

Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages [Gaslamp Fantasy] [Completely Dead]

---

The words coming out of Berke’s mouth were similar to a canister of gasoline, flaring the flames of passion within Mark. The only thing saving his ears from audial destruction was the introduction of a new distraction in the form of the sheep chimera that Mark had set his sights on moments ago. Mark shook his new roommate’s hand with unnecessary force; although Berke’s physical strength probably overrode it and kept the student from viewing another red flag. He responded Berke’s question with a solid “YES” and quickly jogged over to the center of commotion.

The sheep was being toyed around with by a human bigger than him, an act that made Mark remember the events of the previous combat scenario. The other student’s sarcasm was obvious enough to where even he would have understood it, but in order to have done that Mark would have to have seen the situation as a conversation in the first place. In a flash, the silver whistle that hung on his neck was now on his lips. He let out an uncharacteristically small tweet in order to catch the chimera’s attention but avoid activating his powers. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, SOLDIER! DO NOT ADMIT DEFEAT SO EASILY AGAINST YOUR HUMAN ADVERSARIES! USE YOUR BEAST SPIRIT AND -CRUSH- HIM!” The bundle of wooly weakness in front of him would require extensive work if he were to ever become a true soldier, Mark reasoned. Of course, this undertaking would be facilitated now that he wasn’t the only person dedicated to the soldier way of life, as his new friend Berke was obviously just as passionate and enthusiastic as he was, obviously. Obviously.

~ Cystra City - The Art of Sound ~

Best of luck in your personal life m8 👁👄👁, if you ever decide on rebooting this rp you already know who to call

Mordhaben's Institute for Aspiring Mages [Gaslamp Fantasy] [Completely Dead]

---

Mark's hand rested on his chin, with his thumb and index finger shooting out to form an L shape. It was a habit subconsciously picked up from comics, and acted as an idle pose during periods of intense thought. One of the only occasions in which he displayed competence was during battle analysis, but so far he had learned nothing. He was already familiar with the Breckenridge lineage to an unhealthy degree from their many, many newspaper appearances and no one else had used magic. Just caution and words. And that sheep chimera who gave in so easily! He was frustrated from the lack of intel, but fired up beyond belief seeing that his fellow classmates obviously needed a coach like him to help them maximize their strength.

The announcements and their ringing intercepted his speeding train of thought and found themselves flattened by the thought process of a stubborn dog who loves the sound of alarms. After finally loosening his muscles he stood up and followed, awkwardly attempting to lower the formality in his walk now that he saw the casual way others followed the professors. "VERY WELL THEN, I WILL ADAPT."

As soon as his brain registered the sight of the athletic compound Mark's tail transformed into a brown blur. All of the equipment he could ever dream of was in front of him, and even a few that he couldn't dream of were scattered around as well. He fixated on the standard pieces of equipment that made frequent appearances during training montages. The bench press in the distance looked exactly like the one Unoctoman used before his big fight with against the Deadland Daemon. Mark clenched his right fist and closed his eyes as he remembered what he said to his trainee, moments before risking his life for the good of the people: "I am the Octoman and I Octocan".

The last stop was just as exciting. Mark's passion extended to literature, and the sight of so many books in one place was mind-blowing. His attempts at maintaining a straight and stiff posture were once again toppled by the visible excitement transmitted by his tail. Afterwards, it waned as he realized that he was unsure of who to select as a roommate. The effect of being a social person who had spent his entire life with the same group of people resulted in a strange moment of weakness. He couldn't remember a time when he ever experienced this and the whole wave of emotion felt like a child trying alcohol. Necessary bitterness? Awareness of a discomfort that would happen often later? It was interrupted by his first official friend, Berke.

Berke's visible feelings of uncertainty registered in Mark's mind, and the urge to use his power-enhanced dynamic coaching system rose. While his powers only affected their target's abilities, a combination of feeling stronger and the placebo effect from Mark's speeches would beef up his target's confidence and security immensely. Not even Mark was aware that half of his powers weren't real. His own worries were quashed as soon as the need to guide another person was created. "I WILL ACCEPT YOUR REQUEST WITH MUCH EXCITEMENT, BERKE. MAY WE GROW FROM EACHOTHER." His hand shot up to salute a fellow warrior before immediately stopping and transforming into a handshake. He would have to act "casual" from time to time and even engage in acts of "friendship" in order to create new bonds. Berke was perfect to start off with, since Mark had already created a superhero persona for him. As Mark's calloused hand extended to reach his new roommate, he fantasized about Berke the Berserk launching a vehicle at another vehicle and somehow exploding an entire city. Poor Berke.