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Recent Statuses

25 days ago
Current Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
5 mos ago
Forever and ever, amen
8 mos ago
Calling out from Scatman's world
1 like
11 mos ago
Called into action - by threats that seem harmonized
1 yr ago
Tomorrow comes

Bio

Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.

Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.

Most Recent Posts



In the distillery's plaza there came to be a reunion. Three quarters of team BASL and a third of JCL came together, each with a retinue of survivors. Though the time spent in the place, be it second floor or basement, wasn't too much in the end, everyone here could agree that it felt like ages. Some nursed wounds, both fresh and old, or worried over the injuries of others; a few were rattled by what they'd seen or experienced, be it the primal, disturbing sensation of being hunted or an intense psychological reaction to witnessing dead bodies. Altogether, everyone felt fatigue, and not just in their muscles, but for this very place. In the wake of this tragedy, the entire complex seemed like little more than a monument of death—further proof, though nobody need it, of mankind's inability to dominate the wild.

Nobody got much time to think about any of this, though. By the time that Lucas, Lauren, and Cian were about halfway up the elevator, the familiar noise of jet engines washed over the ominously silent distillery once again. Everyone anxiously awaited the arrival of Goodwitch's airship, their souls poisoned by hope. All the same, many of them dreaded the vehicle for the living catastrophe that would surely follow. Sure enough, the airship zoomed out from above the thick, twisted forest and cruised toward the plaza, its ramp already down. Goodwitch beckoned to the assembled people before it even stopped moving. “Quickly! By my estimation we have twenty seconds!” The survivors needed no more impetus than that.

With Beacon's students on alert to either side of the ramp, the distillery works gushed into the vehicle, carrying Priscilla with them as gently as they in their fear-addled states could. The hairs on the backs of necks would rise and the eyes of hunters-in-training would harden at a series of rumbling crashes growing quickly and steadily louder. Goodwitch's tranquil expression transformed into a scowl, and through clenched teeth she shouted first to the students and then to the pilot, “Get on, now. Take off!” All hands held tight their purchases as the airship rose into the air, and not a moment too soon. The gargantuan Grimm tore out of the forest like a car through tall grass, zeroing in on the airship, which had yet to ascend out of reach, in an instant. With murder in its eyes it pounced straight for it.

Time seemed to slow down while the colossal, awful creature hurtled toward the human-laden airship. A single swipe from its paw, even if it didn't pierce the hull, would turn the flying vehicle into a steel deathtrap and extinguish every soul inside. Like a reaper's scythe that black limb descended: down, down down, and past the hull. The next instant, the ship was dozens of meters away and climbing, and with no small amount of occupants too scared to soil themselves. After a moment, it became clear what happened: the pilot had engaged the airship's afterburners to provide a burst of thrust, just enough to rocket out of the way of the threat. Of course, while it would have been a great joy to soar away into the sunset, the problems of Beacon's finest had only just begun.

On the ground, the garage elevator was just now reaching the top. The shapes of Lauren, Cian, and Lucas could be made out even from the sky. The manticore had yet to notice them, but since the airship had taken off those three were trapped in hell. Goodwitch narrowed her eyes, her mind clearly racing. “I know, I know,” she preemptively informed anyone who might berate her for 'abandoning' students. “We're not leaving them behind, but I'm in a poor position to cast at that thing. I can't take it down from here.” She turned to the students, eyes burning. “Can you all coordinate a way to either kill that thing or get rid of it long enough to save the others?”
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

Do you have any idea how heavy a sword of this:

size would be? I've taken sword fighting lessons and I had trouble holding a sword half that size in the same position that he does for more than a few minutes. Not to mention his ability to climb mountains and swim with that monstrous weight on his back. And that's just the sword not to mention his other equipment. Proportionally speaking Link would be a lot stronger than birdie and even taking size into account their strength is very likely about equal.

While you can't hookshot anything in the original game the hookshot is basically a chain and in a real world environment could be stretched out to use as a grappling hook or weapon.

However this really isn't all that important as you'd eventually get into the castle town one way or another. Though you might want to edit in something about seeing Bayonetta and Red as they are standing in front of the drawbridge so if Birdie was trying to pull it open with his chain he couldn't have been more than a few feet from them.

@ProPro Never played Borderlands, is teleportation a relatively common occurrence there?


I might have had an idea if I had any sort of familiarity whatsoever with Ocarina of Time, but I don't, so I must confess that I don't have any idea. The bottom line is that since from a logical perspective Birdie should interact with the others instead of going directly into the town by whatever method, I should just remove the whose section, save it for later, and have him chat.
@Lugubrious I'm not opposed to you guys getting inside while the drawbridge is still up but you would have to use abilities that would be unavailable to a OoT Link player as this game would be designed so that he could only get in while the bridge is open. The whole thing with the chain would be theoretically possible for Link to pull off with the hookshot so...


Link's tiny compared to Birdie, with minimal upper body strength. The hookshot can only latch onto predetermined hookshot spots, whereas Birdie's chains can wrap themselves securely around whatever targets Birdie throws them at. I'd say this isn't something Link can do in the game.
I'm liking the way this is headed. So, as promised, here I am.

Name: Vinnie Pantera

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Appearance: Standing at 6'8” and weighing 188 pounds, Vinnie is a thin man of mixed white and Latino descent. His blond hair is turning silver at a premature age, creating a sand-and-salt aesthetic, and his long hair is slicked back. Rather than becoming a mullet or ponytail, it instead sticks straight backward for a couple inches, giving the impression of hair streaming behind someone who's running. Muddled brownish-green eyes peer out from a face defined by angular features, with a slightly cleft chin, no dimples, and attached earlobes. He tends to dress formally and extravagantly, as is evident in his favorite attire: a royal blue suit with a black undershirt and white tie. His socks, shoes, and gloves are also black. Though he owns a porkpie hat, he doesn't wear it often.

Backstory: From an early age, Vinnie fit the bill of a perfect child, considerate to others and obedient to his parents. Even with strangers he used the utmost politeness, seemingly always happy to go out of his way to help others. Beneath that image lay two great pressures, however: insecurity and pride. Feeling worthless, weak, and dumb, he would constantly seek the approval of others by doing things for them. Be it in money or praise, Vinnie loved getting paid. To Vinnie, having someone else be disappointed in him was the worst feeling he could imagine. Doing well at whatever he chose to do, meanwhile, stoked Vinnie's pride. For all of his hard work helping others he developed a secret, quiet ego, which made him feel superior to others. This pride could never quite escape the clutches of insecurity, however, and to prove to himself -as well as others- that he wasn't a smug, overinflated scumbag after all, the cycle would begin anew. He was, in short, a perfectionist.

He joined the Boy Scouts, though ultimately quit due to a distaste for the outdoors and took to helping in his father's business instead. During this time, a period of hardship in his previously wealthy family served to convince him that money was the true medium of gratitude and the measure of one's talent. After high school, he worked for about a year in a restaurant, cultivating the image of a modern-day butler, before going to college. Thanks to his scores on several key tests in years past, he earned several awards that prevented him from having to take student loans. It was during college, however, that something extraordinary happened. His university became divided thanks to a few isolated incidents of violence and the eager baiting of the school paper exacerbating the conflict. One evening, on the way back from a special lecture, Vinnie spotted a local hooligan crouched over the still body of a fellow student. Despite his efforts to convince the vagrant to leave him alone, Vinnie was confronted with a bloody knife and forced to run. He ran into a bathroom hoping to hide, but the other man followed him in. Barely escaping by crawling under a stall, he turned to run with the killer on his heels, only to realize that his enemy hadn't followed. Vinnie heard a wail from inside the bathroom and returned, but ended up freezing in fear himself. In front of the killer's stall, blocking the door, stood a monster in a butler's uniform. Quaking in fear, he watched the wheezing, nightmarish creature turn his way and stare at him without eyes before turning back to the stall. Vinnie ran, leaving the scene behind, and unbeknownst to him his newly-manifested Stand kept the killer trapped in the stall for 8 hours before someone else turned up and caused it to vanish, after which the blubbering vagrant was begging to confess.

Things like this kept happening over the years after. Vinnie, having moved to Angel Springs and gained employment as an office worker, became convinced that he was being haunted by an evil spirit. The thing only appeared to terrorize people he resented or feared, and he quickly learned that nobody else could see it. He remained somewhat of a social pariah, convinced that nobody else could understand him so long as he alone knew of Back Door Man. Recently, he has fallen head over heels in love with a charismatic barmaid named Alice Benning, though he's absolutely sure that she won't like him until he gets lots of money.

Likes: All kinds of drinks, being useful, anticipating the thoughts and wants of others, proving himself more capable than others, puns, playing support in games, discretion, getting paid

Dislikes: Large breakfasts, the cold, inane chatter, not knowing what to do, disappointing others, being outdone, anti-jokes, overly-entitled deviants, people who instalock high-skill characters in games, hedonism, not getting paid

Powers: Stand (Back Door Man)

Destructive Power: E
Speed: E
Range: A
Durability: A
Precision: E
Development Potential: C

Back Door Man - a humanoid special-type stand that appears as a 7-foot tall man in a butler's outfit. Rather than a normal head, however, he has an egg-shaped, fleshy, wrinkled mass with only one discernable feature: an enormous human mouth, with grimy, neglected teeth, which covers the whole face. Back Door Man's power is to materialize behind any closed or partially closed door, hatch, or other entryway barrier opposite a sentient observer, chosen by unknown means, and position itself in such a way that no more than 20% of its body is showing. It is capable of creating fog or frost effects on glass to accomplish this if necessary. Any attempt by an observer to open or pass through the entryway results in an immediate, paralyzing fear that lasts until Back Door Man disappears. This fear, which like arachnophobia is a natural terror hardwired into the genome, completely prevents passageway through the door, including attempts to break through or attack the stand. If the stand is approached from a direction in which there is not a solid object or door breaking line of sight, it will dematerialize before direct visual contact is made. The stand itself is not a direct combatant, nor can the user control it to any degree greater than giving it its target, but it is visible to its victims.
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

Hmm? Red and Cereza are currently brainstorming how to get inside the castle town.


Oh, I must have misread. In that case, it would make sense for Birdie to interact with the two of them in some respect. Are they just standing in front of the moat, or are they off to the side where Birdie might not see them?
Pulling the bridge down with chains isn't what I had in mind. He might not be as nimble as Bayonetta or Red, who also got inside the town despite the drawbridge being up, but he has his ways.
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

I really hate to do this to you cause that post was quite well written but Castle Town has one entrance, the drawbridge which is currently closed as it is night time.

Also the Stalchildren wouldn't come into the town but that's of less concern.


Dang. I don't think that's a single post so far I haven't messed up. Well, Birdie's not above a little manual labor...
Henry


As shocked as she seemed a moment ago, the new arrival recovered quickly. Her ‘name’ tickled Henry’s funnybone. ”Ahah…really? Like the treat? What awful luck! If only there was a curse to change names…” While he didn’t recognize the place she mentioned -at least, he assumed it to be a place- he felt he got the gist of what she was trying to say. Unfortunately, he expected her to continue talking, but she went quiet. His extremely narrow-eyed gaze shifted to her instrument, which aroused his curiosity. In only a few moments the dark mage then lost interest and settled for thinking of it as some strange form of lute. ”That’s two strikes for you lot,” he cheerily replied when she questioned the location of Plegia. ”Never heard of those places either. The continent Plegia’s in doesn’t have a name. Maybe once it’s united it’ll land one…get it?” Henry scanned the others’ faces for appreciation of his humor.

With an indifferent shrug the Plegian agreed to Denys’ plan to find a local. He got the message quickly and strolled after the Kaiser, hands clasped in front of him and the tome tucked beneath an arm. The next question didn’t faze him at all, and Henry replied with a straight face, ”Days, months, years…doesn’t matter to me. I’m just around to enjoy life! Ooh, especially taking it. I miss my ravens…” A sudden change in topic as well as mood came over him, and he leaned on one of the tables as he passed. Wistfully he stared at the ground, though to the others it could very well appear that he just lowered his head with his eyes closed in grief. As if someone flipped a switch, however, he snapped back to life the next second. ”Anyway! I’m totally down for talking up some of the locals. If they don’t want to talk, even better! Though maybe you’d be better off leading.” His brows furrowed momentarily as he sauntered after Denys. ”So what’s your thing, Denys? I betcha got more up your sleeve than passive heals.”


Step by step, the land changed. In earlier ages, the plants grew from sand and creatures lived because the ground had been watered by the rancid, necrotic drippings of a being cursed by magnificent powers of creation to decompose, regrow, and decompose again. Perhaps that sorrowful fate incorporated some small measure of mercy in the sense that a creature with no sanity to shatter and no wits to waste suffered it, and not some other being. None could pine about those tragic days, though, even if anyone remembered it, for they were days gone. Now, a different being walked the earth. The passing of winter meant that new leaves would grow, and in essence spring had come to a certain spirit. When Slough's wooden hooves touched the earth, there came not rot, but light. From the threadlike cracks in its bark skin drizzled a shimmering sap—a smooth, sticky fluid that, like a crystal, captured a glorious radiance. When it fell to earth, plants sprang up, and animals appeared without the use of malodorous spawning sacs. The variety of these animals did not bear comparison with that of the creatures of the previous eras. So many were their species and subspecies that no encyclopedia could chronicle each one. As such, the land over which Slough passed flourished. Could this be because of the Greater Life Wisps that constantly followed it courtesy of Niciel's Orb of Life? There seemed to be no shortage of miracles nowadays.

Slough did not simply walk though. The once-ghoul of the Deepwood ran from the place in the north where it awoke, headed swiftly and steadily southwest. Over snowy taiga and enormous grasslands it ran, ignorant to or indifferent of the bounty of life that thrived in its wake. It encountered mountains where demihuman beings dwelled and crossed them, unperturbed by the place's denizens. In time, the residents of that range would think of the wooden creature's pilgrimage as a blessing, for the hardy trees and plentiful game that arose on the path it took would benefit their lives. No matter the tongue, this trail of life became known simply as 'the Streak'. Of course, Slough did not pause even for a single day in its tireless and mysterious trek. After the mountains came a new, treacherous place: a steamy jungle, suffused with poison and mutagenic, toxic pools.

In here, the life-deer finally slowed its pace. With caution it navigated the tangle of trees, vines, and briars. When it encountered a creature it felt no obligation to contend with, it simply stood still, and in that moment became less of a tree-garbed animal and more of an animal-shaped tree. Before long the beasts in question would move on, and the journey would resume. Slough took special care not to step into any of the Venomweald's infamous pools. Ultimately, though, no amount of patience and deliberation forestalled the arrival of a certain despicable thing.

As Slough came to the top of a little mound in the jungle, where a rocky deposit prevented the growth of trees, the earth began to shake. It watched small animals leaping from tree to tree or scampering along the ground in an attempt to flee from the source of the ominous vibrations, but Slough did not move. A huge, dark shape, like a loaded stormcloud hinted at by thunder, could be glimpsed through the trees. At last, with a great crash, the Venomweald Writhe appeared before its prey, trees bent like matchsticks beneath its awesome bulk.

Fleshy tendrils of plantmatter extended toward the life-deer, eager to snare and crush. Slough, however, remained unmoved. With an air of tranquility it turned its head so that the right side faced the Writhe, and inside the socket the white light burned. It smouldered with malice and mercy; the memories of death, rebirth, and a terrible curse radiated from that twisted soul. Faced with this, the Writhe, though eyeless, saw something profound. Though its tiny, primal mind could not comprehend what visions washed over it, its very existence became suffused by knowledge of what was, what is, and what should be.

In this manner, Slough helped the Venomweald Writhe remember what an indescribable something made it forget.

What is the Great One's will return to It.

Instantly, it slumped over. One could tell by looking at it that its life hadn't been extinguished, though it might have just as well been for how much it moved. Still, after a few moments, its great flowerbud mouth squirmed, and a precious thing escaped from its vile, massive prison. A multicolored soul, small in size but vast in legacy drifted toward the life-deer. Its light, bright white at the center but with a prismatic corona of green, red, blue, and yellow, suggested the sun.

The soul of the sovereign of seasons.

Slough opened its mouth, and the soul flitted in between the root spikes to disappear down its throat. It did not change or fade away, but remained inside for safekeeping. Seemingly satisfied, Slough took one last look at the lifeless plantmass, turned, and began to walk away. The pull toward a point in the sky strained harder than ever, but before the call could be heeded, there was work to be done.

@Lugubrious The survivors have all gone with Jack. They're waiting by the elevator already - or should be - while Cian and Lauren wait for the battery to get there so they can retrieve Luke. The whole point of zapping the poor guy was so that the lift would have enough temporary power to take the survivors up along with Jack and then let the rest of the students go up once the battery was installed. They're not all in one group.

From the looks of the post it implied that they had kinda stuck around to watch Luke get barbecued which isn't really the case.


Ah, my mistake.
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