Lugubrious

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

The mention of a race stoked Fleo's fires once more. Before she could accept, however, Felix was already out the door. She blinked a couple of times, trying to piece it together. Her earlier talks with the young boy made it clear that he was a magnetism wizard, but how did that translate into such speed? She could only imagine that it meant he wore some sort of metal. Still, she couldn't let an unfair combination of A-rank Magnet magic and cheeky head start rob her of victory. Fleo pushed herself up from the table, dodged around Trinity and Karn, and darted out the from door. “Sirocco,” she declared, the prospect of competition causing her face to become serious. Dust swirled around her feet, buoying her a feet centimeters off the ground. From there, she needed only lean forward to shoot off, scooting stiff-legged across Magnolia at high speed.

She didn't realize how much she had been concentrating until Felix was a dozen meters ahead of her, at which point she relaxed. “Just give up now!” She called, though it was a gamble if her fellow guildmember heard anything through the wind blowing past his ears. Fleo could scarcely hear herself. It made little difference, likely; they were already halfway to the pancake place. On impulse, the dusty woman felt her pocket, suddenly afraid that she had left her wallet behind. Fortunately, she discovered, she had not, and the thought of warm, syrupy pancakes galvanized her into an extra push that brought her closer to Felix. Dust billowed behind her, quite literally, but she was having trouble catching him up. His magnetism simply out-sped her, and she could bet that he wasn't focuses as acutely as she was. As trivial as this race might be, Fleo was determined to be better at something than someone else after two days of unremarkable mediocrity. What was the use of her gifts if she couldn't beat anybody? She ground her teeth together, her face locked in uncharacteristic determination, and inched closer.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Abel Fulgurate

Obliterating the first Itzamna he saw with a flash of lightning made Abel's hopes rise. This optimism evaporated faster than the smoke of the Grimm's body when the woods around the clearing discharged its brethren by the truckload. Within seconds every student in the place was fighting for his or her life, but to Abel the world became narrow. He focused on each one that came at him, suppressing the fear that he would be overwhelmed. Experience fighting with the Ampere had taught him that while he had the range advantage on melee-oriented foes, if they managed to get past the defense offered by the point of his blade, he was in trouble. The first Itzama rushed low, dodging beneath the Ampere and aiming for Abel's legs. Filled with an image of him getting dragged off his feet and forcibly disemboweled, Abel jumped into the air, and the jaws of the raptor snapped shut around nothing. The next instant, Abel landed with the full weight of his body driving the Ampere's blade straight down. Unfortunately, the quicker-than-average monster weaseled out of the way, and at the same time two more appeared at its side. The guardian touched the ground already, spinning, and his blade sheared through one of the Grimm before it could react. While the others leaped back out of slicing range, one wasn't quite fast enough, and the Ampere's edge cut through its mouth. Shrieking in garbled pain and with its bottom jaw flapping loose, the Itzamna moved in to make use of its hook-talons, but it moved slowly enough for Abel to dispatch it. He spotted four more trotting up to him from the underbrush, and heaved a heavy sigh.

At that moment, some of Gren's artillery scattered the mob unwittingly formed by the Itzamna. One of them fled straight toward Abel, who thrust the Ampere out with one hand and speared the Grimm through its throat. Two more of the original group headed his way, and Abel decided it was time to move. He leaped back over a fire, retreating in the direction of other students to keep his back covered. The last thing he needed was some Grimm jumping him from behind. To his astonishment, both Itzamna hopped the fire as well before running at him simultaneously. Seeking to eliminate both at once, Abel attempted a wide overhand sweep, but one Grimm went low while the other went high—the pack hunters were working in sync. Abel was forced to alter the Ampere's path to intercept the low one, and the jumping Itzamna clamped its jaws on Abel's forearm. Instantly, its vicelike maw began crushing the armor, digging itself in. Twice the guardian pulled away futilely before he let go of the Ampere, guided it with his semblance, and gutted the Itzamna to release its deathgrip. At that moment, Sangue's call for help went up, but however much it hurt the protector to abstain from rushing to the girl's side, he had other problems to deal with. Gren's call came through as well, alerting him to the presence of Salamanders. Sure enough, when Abel glanced skyward, he could point out arcs of sizzling greenish liquid spewing through the conifers.

“Hey!” Another girl's voice came from a couple meters away. Abel couldn't keep himself from looking.

Rayna, looking at him with no small amount of urgency etched on her face, pointed to an incoming squadron of Itzamna that had managed to group together. Without explaining, the girl held up one of her hands and pointed it at Abel. Something launched toward him, and Abel flinched before realizing it that it was not a bullet, but a chain. The guardian held out his own hand and the chain latched on, and instinctively he heaved it into a spin. Rayna allowed herself to leave the earth and be whirled around by the chain, her gunblades flashing through the air, and the cluster of Itzamna fell like flies. Just like that, the chain vanished and the tandem attack was over, and the battle moved on.

A forceful splatter hit Abel in the back. His armor sizzled, and some of the acid dripped onto his blue jacket, melting holes. Abel spun around, shifting his Ampere into staff mode as his did, and let loose a lightning bolt. The thunderous electricity slammed into a tree on the other side of the clearing, instantly seeking the moist sap beneath the bark and exploding the bark away in its attempt to do so. There was no sign of the offending Salamander. When Abel turned back around, Ampere once more shifted to blade mode with a serious of clangs, he found himself standing next to Oswald, watching yet another wave of Itzamna appear. This time some Salamanders lumbered in on the ground as well. The clearing was becoming a very dangerous place.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Anyways, I have a post finished, just wanna know if I'm approved to summon the Salamanders to up the ante. Maybe even to the point were we need to do a full retreat and get strategic, really make us try to survive the wilds on our own.

@Lucius Cypher

Permission granted. Just introduce the foes, however, do not have Vorosky start the retreat.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Spends all night working on post for contest. Post nearing completion. Really proud of how it had turned out. Internet poops out on me as it usually does. "Haha! I prepared for this exact moment!" I yell triumphantly for I had copied my entire post just one sentence ago. Waits for page to reload. Hits control+v on keyboard. Nothing happens. Presses control+v again. Nothing. Continually slams control+v key. Still nothing. Right clicks to find "paste" button is grayed out. Falls to the ground defeated. Shitty Internet: 99 Me: 0.

I have finally learned that in the war between man and shitty internet, shitty internet always wins. Always.

@Guess Who

Thant seriously stinks man, I'm sorry. All I can recommend is writing posts in an openoffice or word document, as I do, and saving periodically.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

@Lugubrious I'd like it noted I never specified the style Damian ran in, simply that he did. Now he may not be as...reckless as Fleo, but he does do a bit of free running to work on his agility, otherwise he'd be a pretty stiff swordsman.

@Zarkun

My apologies. What would you like me to change, exactly? Just remove the sentence?

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Survival is going to move on after a few more fighting posts. I'd appreciate somebody doing something with the PE thing I instigated before we move all classes on, though. At this point it's probably a good idea to just skip sixth hour altogether.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

Beneath the promising morning sun, on an unnamed Magnolia sidewalk, with spirits momentarily subdued only in anticipation, the dust woman, a cripple craving to experience all life had to offer, fixed to run. Not until she had witnessed every tiny miracle and memorable detail in this city would Fleo cease her daily tours. After making sure her bandages and headrag were tight enough to discourage the wind from snatching them, Fleo bunched up and took off. Unlike most city-runners, whose utmost aim was to conserve energy during their job, Fleo never ran at anything less than full tilt. Naturally, this frenetic pace posed some hazard to pedestrians, but on the third day of the sorceress's stay in Magnolia the everyday commuters were already learning to work around her. In a city that played host to the grandest guild in Fiore, the townsfolk had adapted to the everyday strangeness that ran amok through their streets everyday, and many felt pride for the eccentricity that only their city could feature.

Nevertheless, Fleo felt anxious to leave the cobblestone, marble, and clay behind her. However controlled her sprint and however adaptive the civilians, she yet preferred the solitude and freedom of mobility offered by the shingled sea of roofs. On the first day, ascending to this less-traveled level proved tricky, but only two days turned out to be sufficient for Fleo to get a feel of how to move in the town. Today, she rounded a corner, barreled beneath an arch, and dashed headlong into a dead-end alleyway, startling a gray-muzzled mutt dozing in the shade. “Funjin Bakuhatsu!” she shouted at the bricks, echoing off them and persuading the dog to leave. A ball of condensed dust materialized in Fleo's palm, which was lobbed and subsequently stuck to the wall. The dusty woman pushed off her legs, loosening their composition ever-so-slightly to achieve some extra spring, and soared up to where the bomb adhered. Her feet made contact on either side of it, and she pushed off it. What came next, the daredevil knew, expected to be quite a risk, and it thrilled her. “Haha ha!” Fleo snapped her fingers and the dust orb burst with concussive force, sending her flying in an arc out of the alleyway and across the street, whooping all the while. To her astonishment as much as that of any onlookers, Fleo landed upright on the roof of a furniture store, and after a moment spent appreciating her own daring stunt, she took off again, feet pounding across building after building until the roof she stood on was her home.

Any other day would have seen her drop lackadaisically from the roof to the ground, casually letting her dust legs absorb an impact that would crush the bones of normal humans, but today marked a new routine. Construction had begun on the guild's third floor, so it was the easiest thing in the world to literally drop in on the second floor. The particular room into which Fleo descended, she was proud to know, was her own. When Master Jamie had offered a temporary room until the new apartments were completed, Fleo had jumped at the chance. Already she had become quite attached to her cozy little niche, filling it with her belongings at random. Nothing screamed home more than a mess. With the thin layer of dust coating most of her possessions, the room seemed as if it had been lived in for months. Pausing only to grab her coat, Fleo left her room and headed to the guild's first floor, curious as to what the day might bring. Hopefully she wouldn't be sparring with Damian again; without magic (that is, without any more magic than her arms and legs, which she had successfully disguised by feigning appropriate pain when hit) there could be no hope for her. With Damian so demoralizingly good at it, she quickly lost the will to continue. There would never be a time that Fleo would fight without magic, that much she knew for certain. Plus, she had spotted Damian running around Magnolia at the same time as she, which somewhat detracted from her own individual experience. The obvious fact that he ran as part as a routine, and not a free-run like Fleo, succeeded in consoling her.

When she reached the ground floor, she waved cheerily at James, mimed punching a fire wizard named Raghu in the face, and performed a double take. The sight of Karn in a dress, Candy stealing a hunk of his cake, and Trinity petting his head like she would a pet, nearly overloaded Fleo's brain. Wide eyed, she walked stiffly and swiftly to join one person whose sanity she was fairly certain of. Her overly-dramatic shocked expression remained as she seated herself beside Felix. A couple of seconds passed before she found her voice. “Sometimes it can be hard to tell if this place is a wizard guild or a looney bin. Next thing you know people will start saying that there's such a thing as magic!” She screwed her eyebrows up in a mock expression of horror, then flashed a toothy, silly smile. It then vanished, replaced by her usual, easygoing brightness. “Hey, wanna grab breakfast someplace? I saw this sweet pancake shop on the way here. Well, actually, I didn't see it—just smelled it as I ran across the roof. I'll bet it's hella good though.”

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

If the destruction of the terrain immediately around it were any indication, Bal'Tazor was beginning to figure out what the Flesh that Hates was trying to do to it. This did not surprise the Progenitor. Already its forays into the body of the demon had revealed a great deal. However complex and inscrutable a creature could be to the eyes did not mean a thing when a being could take a close look at its constituent components. Personality was simply a code in the DNA; memories were merely stored electrochemical impulses. Neurons were tools waiting for the right signals to come their way and use them. The largest creature in the world could stand before the Progenitor, and it would only focus on its smallest parts. Knowing the basics, the foundation, the elements, the workings, meant that they could be controlled. Controlling the parts meant controlling the whole. The Progenitor was starting to become familiar with the infinitesimal things that made Bal-Tazor tick.

It flinched when the plague demon sent a large wad of gooey earth hurtling its way, opening wide the mouth on its torso. The Progenitor's belly effectively split in two, like a massive zipper, stretching grotesquely to encompass the object hurtling its way. Bal'Tazor's projectile slammed into the insides of the avatar of the Flesh with enough might to send the monster tumbling end over end, piteously moaning, until it lay in a bloated heap beneath the elevated Heart. With greater speed than it had previously exhibited, the Progenitor lurched to its feet with the aid of its trunklike arms, and unceremoniously let the boulder, sucked clean of organic matter and adhesive alike, topple from its maw onto the fleshy ground. Feeling that more could be learned from a candid subject, the Progenitor reached upward like a child embracing its mother, and brushed the underside of the Heart. Its underside cavity opened, allowing the Progenitor to climb inside.

From within, it was bombarded with information injected directly into its psyche via skin contact. It knew that, while the biomass it had accumulated was unsatisfactory, the extra corpses attained by the harvest of Bal'Tazors minions gave it enough for a truly terrific choice of action. When the Progenitor spoke in that dead language, its guttural snarl emanated through the membranes of the Heart, as if the massive, inert stockpile spoke along with it. ”Instant mutation: territory.”

A gruesome geyser, the Heart erupted. A carpet of living Flesh rained down both upon the pit and beyond its perimeter. Whatever it touched it clung to, inserting itself and integrating. Flesh that settled upon stone and earth simply adhered itself, but ones that met tissue began to consume. In mere moments, the few corpses remaining in the pit were on their way to becoming new Snatchers, and what shrubs and grass the Flesh touched were broken down into more matter. Bal'Tazor, too, was blanketed by the stuff, but whether it would allow itself to be imbued with the Flesh that Hates or try to infest it, instead, remained to be seen.

Heroes of Beacon - Contest of Champions

Without further ado, the winner is Prince of Seraphs, and the two credits are his. Your idea was original and well-explained, as well as given flavorful folklore. Second place (and one credit) goes to Scarifar for the naginata Aeran. Even if this entry reaches beyond the barrier into magic, I did not expressly prohibit magic, and it is plain that a lot of effort went into this. The Bleeding Edge longsword crafted by Kaithas honestly seemed rather Mary Sue-ish, if a weapon can be so. For a weapon whose unique ability is healing, only the bloodiest and most impressive things appear in its history, without any real specifics to focus them on. While the Sagitta was freaking awesome as a concept, Guess Who, well...let's say that historians aren't the only ones looking upon this giant cannon with skepticism.

Thank you all for entering. PrinceOfSeraphs will be managing the next challenge. Good luck!

Skullgirls: Parasite's Paradise

This is a bit of a rough time, huh?