Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current I want to see things - that no one else can see


I am currently managing the Crucible, an extradimensional tournament with a unique combat system, and have managed several Dungeon Keepers roleplays in the past along with a RWBY RP I left in more capable hands. Forgive me for melodrama as I say: I can't promise I'm a good man, but I'll do the best I can.

Most Recent Posts

@Stekkmen there's an update coming soon, but before that happens, there's a good chance for Agoston to go ham on some robots!
Sorry for taking so long! But, I finally got it done.

Sorry for the short post. I have been busy with the SWPW and getting back to school; but, I am still here.

No problem at all! Thank you both for keeping at it.
After playing his part, the Margrave awaited a sign from Alessa with baited breath. Would this gambit pay off, or would everything go to hell? He studied his peer's face intently, poised as if to spring -whatever that might accomplish- the second any news came through. When a revelation did make itself known, it manifested in a mere subtle movement, and the irrepressibly clever and astute warrior of darkness understood immediately. In determined, perhaps gleeful silence he followed with the others as they made their way to the traitor's abode.

He almost stepped into the room before remembering that the nullifier would be active, and likely crush him beneath the weight of his toys as they sprang to full size should he waltz right in. The others proceeded as he hung back a moment, removed his jacket, and emptied his pockets. No cars today, but his restored items made quite the obstructive pile. He moved as hastily as he could without doing any damage, wanting to make sure he didn't miss anything, and darted into Collin's room a few seconds after Alessa issued her statement. Rather than play by the rules, the enigmatic vagabond sashayed right over to the 'comatose' pretender and planted a finger on his chest. “You FOOL,” he uttered in the deepest, most guttural voice he could muster. “You sucker, you stooge, you absolute BOOB. Did you truly think that you could fall to darkness and hide its pungent, festering pong forever? No, I smell you thoroughly, you illiterate schlemeil. And I smell a rat! And like a rat, you've been caught! Get DUNKED ON, DUMBO!”

Untold fathoms of power flowed through the Margrave as he punctuated his pronouncement with a dab of monolithic proportions.
The Master of Masters

Location: Scrapyard – Start

With two groups split off to fight their separate battles, a trio remained on the hill that overlooked the Scrapyard, though Michael's sniper perch was not far off. Though the war raged on in the background, this spot carried with it a touch of calm, of being detached from the struggle. For his part, the Master of Masters could only admit to himself his relief at not being part of the dangerous-looking tussles. In the lull, his companion Din, the new wielder of Charm Equinox, found her voice. Her statement evoked a vigorous nodding from the hooded man. “Yes, of course! One's fate is decided by the company one keeps, after all. When I first began to teach, and chose my apprentices, I knew the fellowship to be the source of their strength. Bonds -the connecting of hearts- can be said to be what hearts are for, after all.” He gave a sigh. “Still, you can't get too comfortable. When they learned of a traitor among them, they allowed mistrust to tear those bonds to pieces. Here's hoping this group turns out better, huh?”

The way the Master of Masters spoke was odd, perhaps indicating he knew something he did not intend to share. When he changed the subject the next moment, as he looked out across the Scrapyard, any suspicions on the part of Din or Agoston might be stoked, or allayed. “I tell ya, this is one crazy war. Last time I foresaw a war, it was fought with Keyblades and magic, not these...scary death machines. It was terrible to see, of course...just nightmarish, but still, this is something else.” Leaning forward, he discovered something fast approaching. “Oh, would you look at that. A welcome party!”

A moment later the sound of metal feet scraping metal ground reached the three up the hill. A pack of the bipedal omnic raptor-bots, eight strong, dashed their way. Heedless of any peril, they rushed right into Din's wintry defense, where they slipped and slid on the frost. The magic traveled up some of their limbs, chilling their servos and circuitry to slow them further, but eventually the machines began to adjust. By the time they did, however, the three sword-fighters had rallied with Michael to answer them. The Master of Masters pointed his keyblade at the incoming bots. “Let's say hello!”

Location: Scrapyard - Right

At the front of the battle, the rabbids' guaranteed status effects plus Ratchet's new firepower tore the wave of bots to shreds, leaving a gooey, sparking mess behind. The Buckler clanged his weapons together again with an affirming grunt, and the two smaller goons around him -not part of the chaos in the backline- echoed it with jubilant cries of victory and more than a little bit of dancing.

Not far off, Bowser made his entrance in the nick of time. His makeshift shield took the hefty blow meant for Roadhog, crumpling underneath the Smasher's impressive brute strength, and the force of the collision left both parties reeling. In the next moment, Zer0 blew in like the wind, surgically striking the hat atop the giant rabbid's head to send it sailing out of harm's way. No sane man would have attempted to insert a 50-caliber bullet through the ridiculous melee, with Roadhog and Bowser potential collateral damage if it went off the mark by mere inches, but from the distance another eardrum-pounding blast signaled Michael's shot. Both the Australian and the Koopa King could feel sharp air current as the bullet whizzed by, but by a miracle it found a home in the Smasher's belly. The creature did not even get the chance to gasp its last, turning to ash from the point where the lead blew a hole through its guts. Its dissolving halves split down the middle and slapped against the ground, picking up dust, and a large, confused spirit was left behind.

The panicked pairs of Ziggies and Hoppers did not miss this happening, and this time they understood a directed threat rather than a terrifying unknown. Screaming, they scrambled from the ramshackle shelter they'd commandeered during the ambush and threw themselves behind the safety of the Buckler, whose shield they seemed totally confident in. While another wave of robots loomed on the horizon, the Buckler turned to face the group of heroes, shield raised and shotgun leveled. A meter or so to the right of where it stood, about halfway between the rabbids and the wrecked robots, Bowser's rumpled and dirtied hat now lay upended. From the inside, Kirby poked out, not just alive but awake. The nearby Buckler kept his focus, defensive and suspicious, on the hero party, not noticing the nearby junk hill where the final wave of robots was setting up. Hardhat-sporting bots labored at immobile sentry turrets, building them up while shield-bearing omnics with cannons stood in front. The Buckler began to back up, trying to protect his group as they retreated toward more cover -it being a few fallen blocks scattered around the base of a high, precarious stack- but he wouldn't reach it before the robots finished their setup. In moments, the rabbids would be reduced to mincemeat, with Kirby caught in the crossfire.

Yet, a lucky break came at that very opportune moment. The Courier's slapped-together shutdown signal, hastily wired on an unfamiliar and incredible network, would not last long, but it went to work. All the Omnic's internal resources were rerouted to battling the dangerous signal, leaving their bodies stalled--including those protecting the robo-engineers' turrets. As the energy barriers fell, the soon-to-be-complete sentries became vincible.

Location: Peach's Castle, Dungeon

A lucky disk sheared through the chain bound for Geno's neck, lopping it off into a painful but aimless length of interconnected metal rings. With it either taken or dealt with, and Mario's arsenal further restricted, the doll gave up mobility to focus on offense. A barrage of short laser blasts targeted his enemy, who brought up what remained of his second flail to block them. He did not account for the extra discs, dismissed as harmless once they failed to hit him, and two of them struck him from behind. They ripped into Mario's back, slicing into clothes and flesh; yet, they expended their energy and dissipated before penetrating too far. The pain did manage to stagger him, and with his guard down one laser hit him in the forehead. It sent his hat flying, which another laser put a hole in a split second later.

Whether because of the hurt, the damage done to his hat, or just as part of another strategy, Mario jerked into action. Reaching behind his back, he instantly produced a yellow cape and furled it around himself with one hand. Two laser blasts struck it and reflected back at Geno. The returned attack provided extra cover, and a moment later, Mario revealed what his other hand had been up to. He stepped forward, planting a leg in the ground with a great stomp, and released a great blast of fire. Whatever it hit on the way, it proceeded to blow straight through the cell wall, sending rubble into the hallway, and into the cell on its opposite side. Its door fell to flaming pieces, and from the darkness, a curious face emerged. It's owner spotted both Geno and Mario, but only recognized the latter. So that the newcomer could see, Mario pointed at his wooden opponent, inviting Donkey Kong to join the fight.
I should put out an update for the main Scrapyard battle very soon. It'll deal with the Smasher situation, among other things.
So, I'm not sure if this is okay, but I was planning on maybe joining as a specific slime from the Dragon Quest: Monsters series, so I thought I'd ask first. Is it okay if I do that?

Sure. I would assume this slime has something of a personality/character?
@Gentlemanvaultboy @Lugubrious @Delta44 Should we work together on a collab post?

Probably the best way to go about it. Let's set one up in PMs.
Alrighty, update made. The battles ramp up, and it's time for @Hokagae's new character to play.

@Lugubrious The former has been gone for 14 days...

Safe to say he/she is back within its own haitus...

Please do not make negative or assumptive comments about other RPers. I will handle questions of participation.

Level 2 – (14/20) EXP
Location: Scrapyard – Left
Word Count: 723

To crest the hill where the Ancient Gardens ended and the Scrapyard began was no easy feat, for it demanded one come face-to-face with a raging warzone. The rattle of firearms, the heat rolling off flaming wreckage, the mechanical robot shrieks and frenzied rabbid cries blending into one terrible was war on a scale Tora had never seen. Though he'd seen the destruction wrecked by a Judicium Titan Weapon on the Urayan fleet, he'd never stumbled straight onto an active battlefield, and for a moment the Nopon stood flabbergasted.

Thankfully, the more influential figures among his party were made of sterner stuff. Without delay, a few of the group surveyed the scene with intent to formulate a plan, but some, appearing disinclined toward deliberation, jumped in headfirst. Leaving Agoston and Michael's scheming behind, the impulsive gunslinger barreled off in Kirby's direction, and Ratchet and Zer0 followed suit. To Tora's surprise, the masked giant from a couple minutes ago showed up and immediately lumbered off after them. Along for the ride as ever, Blazermate followed to heal the hotheads' wounds. For a moment it looked as though everyone would be gunning for Kirby's kidnappers.

However, those who remained turned out to be anything but united in their aim. The tired-looking girl who came about at the same time as the Master of Masters said she'd 'scout ahead' and hooked about toward the left, skirting around the furious firefight in the battlefield's middle. After a few words of her own, Linkle left to join her. For his part, the Master of Masters seemed content to hang around for the moment. “Um, sure!” he called after the fleeing girl. “Can't say I'm one for a flat-out brawl or melee of any kind, so I'll just, uh, stick around here for a bit.” Alongside him, Din, Michael, Agoston, Bowser, and Tora remained. The Master gave an exaggerated shrug. “So then, oh-so-mighty and wise lord Bowser, what are we to do?”

Neither the question or the answer concerned Tora. He had watched Minako and Linkle go, and run over his options in his mind. “Right group have fierce fighters, plus sturdypon big man for defending. Staying group have Bowser. But left...? Meh meh! Nice girl Linky-Linky and new girl need defender-type!” He made up his mind, and hurried after them, saying, “Tora will repay kindness from earlier and make new girl friend too!”

Some jogging later, he caught up to Minako and Linkle, albeit out of breath. Their path brought them through a thick part of the junkyard, where the blocks and various bits of scrap seemed almost purposefully arranged into strange structures. Though it conveyed a certain sense of unease, like wandering through ancient ruins, there seemed to be no enemies. “Ah! Hah!” Tora panted. “Hello, friends! Tora thought could use little company, plus tough shield if things go wrong.” Still moving at a decent pace, he parked himself in front of Minako and told her, “Should make proper introduction, meh. Am Tora, Nopon from Torigoth. For you, am brainy, very tough, and very helpful ally. If claim seem bold, allow Tora to submit as evidence: this unflinching eye contact.” Falling silent, he turned an unblinking stare upon the teenager and maintained it as long as she allowed.

Whatever the outcome of that exchange, the trio needed to keep moving, and in sort order emerged from the array of junk pillars into a relatively open area. Here, the racetrack made a hairpin turn before heading back toward the starting line. While the Scrapyard's metallic mounds surrounded the place, making a crude sort of wall, various elements of the mundane Mushroom Kingdom could be seen beyond. More visible, however, was a potential threat, and more than likely the reason for the left side of the battlefield's silence.

Standing atop the wooden cylinder that occupied the center of the hairpin turn, an unusual robot scanned its surroundings. Sparking metal carcasses suggested that it cared not for its fellow machines, and around the area a couple rabbids hunkered down by cover, too afraid to poke their heads out for the rifle-wielding automaton to see. One such rabbit lay close by, this one distinctive from its kin thanks to his green sweater and hat. Despite possessing red eyes, he seemed non-hostile, and hurriedly motioned for the newcomers to get down.

Location: Scrapyard - Right

Through the right wing of the pit stop lay a scene of chaos, though one that a steady stream of heroes threw themselves into willingly. The Courier wasted no time in getting to work, not only going on the offensive but also turning a few of the omnics' own offenses inward, wrecking havoc on a subgroup of them soon to converge on the entrenched rabbids' collective flank. Using the alloy cadaver of his victim as a shield, he edged closer to the rabbids, and with his shotgun turned to slag a pair of the little raptor-bots scrambling into the furry cretins' stronghold. His ultimatum rang out soon afterward, and the rabbids that heard it gave a hint of understanding. They looked between one another in confusion, clearly and perhaps mistakenly taking 6's lack of immediate hostility for granted. They seemed amenable to the prospect, but for the moment the fight for their lives continued, so they couldn't do anything just yet. Plus, none of them seemed eager to try and take something from the Smasher.

When Ratchet arrived, intent on blasting bots and not bunnies, the rabbids as a group grew a touch bolder. The extra explosive support allowed them to re-establish control over their immediate area, with the Buckler moving from cover into the open and deploying his shield for the Ziggies to take refuge behind as they advanced. Roadhog's sudden and miraculous appearance, throwing the Courier a bone and furthering the rabbids' impression of the newcomers, emboldened them even further. The Hoppers began to prepare a team jump, scattering around in order to cover the greatest area. However, one of the Hoppers flung himself too close to Roadhog and received a scrap slug to the belly for his efforts. Hurt but not killed, the thing dropped to the earth like a sack of bricks to roll around on the ground in pain. A demobot's grenade launcher just about finished it off, but Roadhog's indiscriminate shooting downed it as well.

Enemy reinforcements arrived a moment later. Consisting mostly of the gray machines, there were heavybots with perilous-looking miniguns flanked by thin scoutbots wielding bats to pummel with. Not noticing the fallen Hopper, the other rabbids went to work. With a bizarre, guttural noise, the Buckler clanged his shotgun against his shield, and a star-shaped yellow wave radiated out from him. His weapon, and those of his allies, took on a similar glow. After spinning his shotgun like a cowboy's revolver, the Buckler fired into the oncoming horde. A great yellow blast exploded outward as it auto-crit, doing extra damage and covering the robots in sticky honey, stopping them in their tracks. Laughing wildly, his accompanying Ziggies unleashed a volley, their blasters auto-critting as well and lathering the robots with ink that gummed up their armaments. With the enemy wave all but crippled, all that remained was to annihilate it.

Then came a tremendous boom, and the rabbid Supporter, keeping its allies healed, vaporized in a puff of ash. Around the impact site, the Ziggies, Hoppers, and Smasher went into a panic. The smaller rabbids fired in every direction, but the hat-wearing Smasher let out a bellow and charged at the closest target it could see: Roadhog. It barreled at him heedless of incoming fire, hurled its block up, and leaped to catch it, poised to bring it down with bone-cracking force.

Location: Peach's Castle, Dungeon

Geno's chunk of stone hurtled Mario's way. It caught his flails midway, causing one to break completely but also damaging the makeshift projectile itself. Regardless, what remained could still cave in the average skull, and undeterred it continued toward for the scarlet-eyed man in red. In the end, though, it posed little in the way of a challenge. On the rock's final bounce, Mario -jarred from his revolution by the earlier impact to his flail- positioned himself under it and executed a jump punch, a technique as simple as it was iconic. The stone shattered as his fist struck it from beneath, and with a classic ba-ba-bing three gold coins popped out and disappeared, leaving only dust behind.

More accurately, they left dust and a focused, wrathful Mario. Though Geno's strategy inflicted no lasting damage on his foe, he made a change of tactics necessary, and his opponent was already in motion. The plumber reeled in his remaining flail and took hold of the rock in both hands, then started to move. He sprinted at Geno, closing the distance in a second, and made to smash the doll into kindling with an overhead slam of his new bludgeon. Yet, that composed only layer one of his cunning attack; when Geno inevitably dodged, Mario planned to read his evasion and swing the chain on his other wrist like a whip, either horizontally or vertically, to catch him.

@Delta44 @ShwiggityShwah @Stern Algorithm @Scribe of Thoth

Seconds spent waiting, particularly for something important, felt like hours. Everyone knew it, and if standing around for a minute or thirty seconds watching something slowly spin in a microwave prickled one's patience, waiting for the most significant letter of one's life was positively enervating. After a while, Goro left his family's tiny apartment and found refuge in his happy place, the spot of tranquility—his rooftop garden. There, among the sweet potatoes, radishes, turnips, carrots, taro, and cabbage, he whiled away those heavy seconds.

After who knew how long, the stairwell door burst open, drawing Goro's glow like an escaping convict did a spotlight. There, partially silhouetted against the flickering yellow stair light, stood Goro's father. Lean, bedraggled, and prematurely balding, Dogorasu Seiha nevertheless gave off an air of optimism, of hurt but unbroken spirit, and it shone brightly now. Without a word, Goro rushed over, his feet pounding the concrete of the roof. He took the unopened letter from his dad's hand, washing it in his light, and slid a finger through the seam to tear it open all the faster. Holding it so that Seiha could see, the young man absorbed every word, drinking it in as a true believer might a prophecy. Its words, after all, would define his future; either his dream to brighten the world of heroes ended here, or Dogorasu Goro had taken his first step on the glorious path.

The message did not mince words, and in short order the two men were overcome with elation. In the silence that followed, only one noise made itself known: a heart release of bated breath. No words were necessary; Goro and his dad came together in the hardest, most visceral hug they'd ever exchanged. Eyes screwed shut, he beamed at the murky sky, a stream of joyous illumination lighting up the heavens for any who cared to see. Most likely, neither noticed the solitary tears wandering down Goro's cheeks. For the moment, neither minded if this moment lasted forever.

Still, time waited for no man, and before long Goro leaped into action. He prepared a bag of everything he needed, had a few bites of cereal, then rushed off to his new school. A lengthy stroll through cold air brought him back down to earth in a hurry, but nothing could dissuade the lightness of his heart. On and on he went, then up and up, the scenery and time passing in a euphoric blur. Then, before he knew it, he stood there. Jigokuraku Academy stood before him in all its glory—for it was glory, not just to someone well acquainted with rock bottom, but to a believer in heroes who knew what this place stood for. This was it!

He sought out fellow students, taking in those faces new to him, but looking in particular for those he knew. How many made it? Did Umi? Surely she had; nobody could have put more of him- or herself into that test than she did. After a time, Goro found his quarry. Four people from the entry examination had converged, likely thinking along the same lines as him. They stood on a great threshold, surrounded on all sides by big shoes to fill. In such a situation, solidarity was a must. Goro certainly aimed to give them as much of it as he could. Azukina...Mari...Hiroki...Shun, he listed off mentally, recalling each name from their various introductions before. Remembering one's name was a sure way to make someone feel as though he or she mattered, Goro knew, so he made it a point to commit each one to memory. “Good morning,” he said, waving as he approached. “I'm so glad to see you all here! I just knew our group had the right stuff.”
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