Lugubrious

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Brewing Storm

@krayzikk@sho minazuki@herecomesthesnow@kaithas@plank Sinatra@suku@narayank

Beneath the crushing force of a burly teenager’s boot, the door to the room of Mar Millade slammed open. Instantly the dual mysteries surrounding the room, presented in the forms of sound and scent, were solved. First and foremost, the tiny apartment appeared to have a nonstandard –not to mention sporadic- paint job, done in brownish-burgundy. No source of the fluid used could be seen, but a fair amount of it lay around the remaining fragments of the broken window. A look straight down from the shattered aperture revealed the outline of a body in the mud below, though one too small and apelike to be human. An astute eye would reveal more rivulets of dried blood drawn like streaks of rain down the side of the building, indicating that whomever ruptured the window gained the roof. A clawed-open airduct in the room offered an easy hint as to why someone might want to vacate their supposed safe haven swiftly. At that point, noises could be heard from inside Moss's unopened room, elicited by Benjamin's clamor.

Vague expectations had filled Ivor’s mind as he entered the cafeteria. As odd as the scantily-clad Faunus and gray-obsessed fellow appeared, he imagined that they might have come with a regular paramedic team in tow. He certainly did not expect to find a pair of young women in various stages of undress huddled around two of his co=workers. For a moment his wit abandoned him, leaving him wearing an expression of mixed surprise, amusement, and admiration. Soon thereafter, however, the keen programmer offered his two cents. “If this is how an average rescue team works nowadays, I should nearly die more often.” He seated himself on a cafeteria bench with his back against the table, and reclined. “Gray-haired guy sent me over. I’d be glad to help any way I can. Oh, I know! While you’re busy, I’ll keep watch.” This could, of course, not help but strike a paradoxical note given the constantly near-shut state of his eyes.

-meanwhile-

Bent on following the directions of her team leader and contributing to the operation’s success, Cian in her haste rushed across the storage room toward where the survivors allegedly were to take up a defensive position. She did not, apparently, take much notice of the solid steel door that separated her from the control room in which the survivors held up. Through a small peephole one of the refugees watched Cian turn her back to him and the rest, setting up a shield with which she would valiantly protect the door. The lad furrowed his brows in consternation, and despairingly asked those near him, “What the heck? Are these guys here to help us or not? None of the monsters even scratched our door but this girl’s hunkering down to protect it. Why doesn’t she let us out already?”

He pressed his nose against the glass, strands of blue hair splayed in every direction. The other survivors closed their ears, remembering the boy’s prodigious lungs. “Hey!” His shout bounced off the walls. “Fighter girl! Let! Us! Out!” After a deceptive moment, he belted out an afterthought. “Priscilla! Took! Keycard!”

While this went down, the damaged barrel almost certainly containing a human sat, ignored, in the refinery room. At the very least the no-doubt terrified and uncomfortable hider within would not suffocate to death, given the rends in the drum’s metal, but thirst would be just as bad a way to go if the remaining two members of JCL did not cease their ruminating and start saving.

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

@Lugubrious I think I'm just waiting on you, mate.

@Zarkun

That is true. Now that my schedule is free, I have three RPs I have to post on today. I'll get to work.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

To those with Firebrand characters, you may now move freely throughout the Charred Citadel. I'll update the Characters tab with information about the layout and rooms shortly.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

-=-=The Core=-=-

The pondering of Lily, though expansive, did not occupy much time. As such, Panoptos –after approaching her- could only make one lazy revolution around her before she voiced her reply. Huffing in acknowledgment, the Watcher reached out to mark Lily’s forehead, only to find her leaning back slightly to avoid his reach. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward and again the demoness recoiled somewhat. ”Hold still, you.” Quickly he emblazoned the Council’s firebrand on her head before moving on. If not for his aptitude for the sarcastic and disingenuous, Panoptos might have thought Mary overjoyed to step up and be branded. He implanted his masters’ insignia upon her smooth, pale skin and then rose up. By his count, everyone who remained but for the miserable dog now featured a mark. Good, good, he thought, sniggling, and he flew off toward the citadel. With the Council’s audience over, the other Watchers scattered, most following the route taken by several of the Firebrands already toward their new base of operations.

-=-=-

Still feeling overwhelmed by just about everything he could conceive of his current situation, Souta dimly followed the general movement toward the great stone fortress in the distance, but only stopped to realize where he was going when the cyborg accosted him. ”Hi, yeah,” he replied absently, rolling his shoulders to bring himself back to earth. ”Sounds about right. If we’re working for the Charred Council now, we oughta get to know our workplace.” Souta’s mind drifted back to his little office at the Regalia headquarters in Japan. At first it had seemed alien, though not nearly to the degree as this place, but in time it seemed like more of a home than where he went to sleep; everything that challenged and intrigued him he did in those four walls. Would he ever come to feel like a castle in the middle of a broiling lavascape could become the same? There would be only one way to find out.

Of course, a few individuals beat him to the Charred Citadel. First inside –or rather, above- was the sorcerer Akoni. From his birds-eye view he could no doubt see a largely bare yet inhospitable series of roofs, all slanted and spiked, but there also lay a trio of tall towers just perfect for aerial landings. Wrath, meanwhile, after entering the grand portcullis, found himself in an entry hall with ornate bas-reliefs but little else. Many of the nearby chambers contained similarly little of note, though one did sport a distinct lack of floor, with a pool of lava replacing it. His path through the nigh-labyrinthine passages took him through a fountain room, a large chamber replete with statues of all kinds, and finally a disused chamber filled with the remains of what may have been a trading post. The power of the thing he sought drew him near, however, and he arrived at the World Tree chamber.

In the center of the great domed room, with gnarled roots blanketing the floor and twisted branches lining the ceiling, stood the Tree itself. Without a leaf to its name it looked utterly dead at first glance, but in the hollows of its massive trunk lay clotted masses of arcane energy, dormant and unusable. ”Looks like you and the tree were made for one another, savage. You’re both sad and disused.” Panoptos hovered a distance behind Wrath, his arms crossed. ”Except for a few squatters, the Citadel has been neglected for a long time. Suppose it’s time we kick everything into shape, though. Follow me: it’s high time you made yourself useful.”

Panoptos lead the way through the Citadel to a large square chamber with many adjoining hallways. At the room’s center hung a structure that appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, an enormous heart. It hung, an inert sculpture of hollow glass filled with soot: dead. The Watcher swept his hand toward it. ”Behold! The Molten Core. Does the lights, the Tree, the forges, ovens, you name it. It’s a little on the not-molten side right now, though, as I hope you can see. Why don’t you warm it up? Let out the Firebrand inside you and massage that heart into beating again.”

Meanwhile, Kosara’s intrepid dash through the hallways , which never failed to provide a challenge thanks to the sharp turns and winding paths, did deposit her in the library at last. Alas, a disappointing sight lay before her: the library lay in tatters, with only a few books not even organized onto shelves. In fact, most of the books lay in one pile in the rooms center, upon which lounged a odd, beaked creature reading a book upside-down. He noticed Kosara immediately, and set down his book to stare inquisitively. “Oh, my my!” he crooned. “A new visitor to the Charred Citadel! I didn’t know we were having guests. Oh wait…no, I lied. I knew it all along, yes!” He pushed himself up into a proper sitting position. “My name is…Eeliot! You aren’t going to kill me, are you? No, no, us nice-looking folks are never evil. Tell you what: help yourself to my books! I’m not the King of Knowledge for nothing. My only regret is that so little of my property has survived…” Holding a claw up over his eyes, Eeliot wept dramatically, but before long he peeked between his fingers. Clearly he enjoyed having a guest to give him attention.

Slowly and methodically, Souta made his way through the Citadel interior. Each room he took note of in a perhaps foolhardy attempt to memorize the layout, and it did not escape his notice that nearly everything lay in a state of disrepair. He expected that the Watchers would get everything working soon enough, but even still the facilities seemed meager if meant to support a small army meant to save the world. Of course, what did he know? More than likely, the Council missions would be opportunities to gather more resources. To his satisfaction, he found what appeared to be a smithy, and through one of its adjoining rooms he discovered an odd workshop. The aesthetic of this chamber totally disregarded the precedent set by the hewn igneous stone of the rest of the Citadel; it was all metal, with unique furniture and tools that seemed more ritualistic than functional. Nevertheless, the room gave him a good vibe, not unlike the promise of good things to come. He decided to claim the empty room between the workshop and the smithy as his own.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

That has to be decided. Neither the Watchers nor the Councillors have much of a use for books. We're considering creating an NPC who owns the library in the citadel.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

Is it possible to get a quick run down on what all is in the citadel available to us, or are we getting an IC post with that?

@ProPro

I was anticipating something like this, and was thinking about getting a general schematic going, but I haven't made any progress. I'll work with the other GMs to make one.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

For me, it's end of semester. Utmost stress and business for another two weeks-ish. After that, you all will have my undivided attention.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

Questions about the new super modes provided by the Council. Will they be dictated/determined by the GMs, or do we decide them? If we decide them, then what kind of limitations are we working with? Are they immediately available to us or do we need to wait on them?

@ProPro

The super modes are basically lava-golem versions of the character. There can be extra permutations within reason, but the common characteristics are: core body becomes lava, extraneous parts and extra details are molded in igneous stone. Needless to say, this is a transformation of the characters, so the lava and stone are parts of them and do not cause harm. This might be a good approximation:

Characters who already have a transformation will find that transformation a bit closer to the fire/stone aesthetic.

At the beginning, the transformation, which everyone can use immediately and which I am going to call Firebrand Trigger, will only last a short time, and the benefits granted are a bit one-dimensional: enhanced strength and durability, some fire abilities. Firebrand Trigger will improve slightly every time its used, however, tailoring itself toward boosts better for the individual, and altering appearance. A fast character will eventually be able to move blindingly quickly in FT, and use his firepower to become like a meteor for a short time. The bottom line is that it starts out as a marginal boost but becomes better and customizable pretty quickly.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

So, before I post again, it would be possible to go to the White City from the Molten Core, right?

@Zarkun

Yes, provided you have what's necessary to operate the World Tree.

@IncredibleBee you seem to have had a misconception about the damage your character would suffering being in proximity to magma. Last I checked, 'immunity to incinerating heat' wasn't on your character sheet. You chose to be a human without ties to the Lumen Sages or Umbra Witches, so you get the baggage that comes with it. This means your character isn't magically invincible because you can't deal with there being consequences for your actions.

I'm going to ask you once: quit godmodding your puny human and bring him into alignment with a proper power level. Do you realize how infuriating it is to have a player who not only completely disregards all conventions of the universe in which he's inserted his character, but to have one whose flawless gary stu ripoff character is also completely invincible and able to laugh off what's possibly one of the worst fates in existence?

The body of Antonio, due to being within several meters of a substance up 2,200°F, is now roughly ten times worse than this:

Crispy

And his armor, due to exposure to said heat, has melted against his body. He has only survived said experience because the Council wills it, and not because of whatever bullcrap powers you can think up because you want them. If you can't swallow this, you're through. I'm sick of you mocking me and making this RP into your own personal playground, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. A fundamental part of RPing is accepting consequences for your actions; by entering an RP, you're agreeing to a contracted position with the GMs, where they have the power to say what goes and you are supposed to listen. Without that, there's no story, just a mess of people trying to one-up one another for the title of "most badass". Either get a hold of your ego or get lost.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

-=-=The Core=-=-

Over the flailing, confused form of Snider Panoptos floated, listening to his nonsensical utterances with intense fascination. Though the Watcher could not have attested to ever seeing a cartoon for children, this human absolutely nailed what he would have thought to be the stereotypical old man in a cartoon: senseless, senile, sporadic, and spasmodic. After a few amusing moments he sighed and turned back to face his progeny. ”Which one of you,” he asked, ”Brought this one here to waste our time? Can’t you see he’s broken? Eugh…” Panoptos descended just close enough to flick Snider on the nose, lazily drawing an off-kilter mark that glowed dimly, like a dying ember. Then Snider disappeared, returned to the ruined city from which he came. When Panoptos looked up, he spotted one of the Watchers raising its hand. ”Uh, that were me mate, sorry fer dat.”

”Rhetorical question, imbecile. Didn’t you bring the fanatic, anyway?” Panoptos sneered dismissively, and refocused his attention on the remaining members of the group. Of them, funnily enough, the least humanoid seemed the most interesting. He picked up an odd assortment of signals from Fenn, not scornfully dismissive but definitely not accepting. Intrigued, and suddenly wary, Panoptos observed. Behind fur and fangs, the thoughts of a hellhound were difficult to discern. Surely a beast of Inferno did not doubt the power of the council? Perhaps he considered matters more existential. The Watcher would have frowned pensively had it a mouth with which to do so. Did the creature, of all beings, suspect…?

He counted himself unsurprised that Fenn saw fit to refuse service to the Council, but remarkably the demon exhibited enough intelligence to spare himself a terrible fate by choosing a third option. Panoptos drew a talon across his chin in thought. Only when the hellhound snapped at him did he break his silence. ”As if you could touch me. I’m protected, poochie. Still, you needn’t worry about a branding. Emblazoning you would be like…giving a sheep an education.”

Unfortunately, Panoptos did not get the chance to offer more profound insight, for a mere man saw fit to not only refuse but threaten the venerable Charred Council. The quiet that followed his declaration was brief and deadly. Then, the center head fumed,

”Your delusions and threats are pittance to the Council! We are a more merciful by far than the immaterial God you claim to serve, to not cast you down to your rightful place in Hell this instant. As such, we will allow you to live just long enough to see that the angels you idolize are monsters as eldritch than the vilest demon. But before that, it is time you learned that there are consequences in this universe for your actions. I will brand you myself!”

From beneath Antonio’s feet, the white rune protecting him from the ungodly heat abruptly faded.

The Paladin should have died that instant, roasted into ashes inside his own armor as it melted off of him, but the power of the Council sustained his life. Only after a minute of this torment was the man transported in darkness, whose tender oblivion seemed an incredible relief, back to the surface. Rather than a simple scar, Antonio’s traitor brand was the entirety of his skin, charred by the unquenchable fires of the Core to a festering meld of black and red. His armor lay on him still, but warped and damaged to such an extent that he might not ever be able to take some of it off on his own. Nevertheless, his movement and ability to fight were unimpaired, and his consciousness remained fully with him.

The Core did not lapse into silence following the Templar’s departure. Few, certainly, expected him to survive such an unabashed slander of the Charred Council—what, after all, did he think would happen? That some divine providence would step in and annul the consequences of brazen and unchecked malice? Yet the meeting quickly returned to order.

Panoptos decided to hold Mary in particularly low esteem. His advanced cognition beheld the conflict within her mind, her body, and her soul, and the fact that she seemed beholden to the two demons did not help his estimation of her. ”Perhaps your pale blood clotted in your ears, dollface. Either you’re branded an agent of the Council, you’re branded an enemy, or you’re such a base creature that we can be assured of your servitude without a mark.” To make sure that nobody missed his meaning, the viridian Watcher cast a nine-eyed glance at Fenn. Then he continued, ”Besides, you can’t use our portals without it. Fancy walking from here to Paradiso and back?” The voice of the level-headed Councilor rumbled through the fiery realm after its servant’s question.

”This audience is drawing to a close. Those who have pledged may journey to the citadel. In only a few hours your first task as agents of the Charred Council will commence; until then, satiate your mortal needs of food and rest. To those who remain undecided: conquer your indecision. Choose now whether you are for Creation or against it. If you do not forget your place, you may survive even if you betray us.”