Lugubrious

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Man, I just thought of a power so much better than Elliot's toymaking, it's not even funny.

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

Deadwood Copse

@liferusher@lunarlors34

Miraculously, Ashlyn did not appear to lose her head over the revelation that a dead woman had returned to life. This did not keep the newly-revived ninja from shivering violently, more from the shock than from the rain. Still not knowing what to make of the situation, Harper simply sat there limply while her ally mumbled under her breath, and when Ashlyn attempted to pick her up, Harper felt surprised. The next moment, however, she was on her feet, her footing shaky. Looking at her own pale, dead-looking hands, Harper could only feel tremendously disturbed. Yet, the firmness of Ashlyn's demand roused her from her trance—the pyromancer's voice was the lifeline to which she attached herself in this storm of fear and bewilderment. ”Oh...okay. He has to know how to fix this. He must. And everyone has to know what happened.” She nodded, repressing the turbulent feelings that threatened to overwhelm her behind the resolve to help her guild. Together, the two took off running.

They arrived back at the camp to find it deserted. Not a single soul remained. Even the three C-rank soldiers left behind for their own safety, and to guard the guild's belongings, had steeled themselves and run after their comrades to engage in battle. For them, everything was on the line, and they could not stand by in this critical time. On closer inspection, there was one remaining occupant in the camp: Thor, splayed out on the ground and unconscious. She couldn't provide them any help, but even still, Harper could feel something. The same dark magic that revived her sang out like a malignant maelstrom on the other end of town, and the way it called out to her terrified her more than she could say. That galvanizing warmth on the back of her neck, however, bid her speak. ”There's a...a storm of black magic on the other end of Belka. Everyone must be there fighting it. We have to go too.” When her eyes fell on Ashlyn, they were milky, glazed over, but still they contained a semblance of passion. Trusting her ally to follow her, even through the beating rain, Harper began to run again.

Graveyard

Ni Rensa, Eliza, Edith Riggs, Kilo, Joakim Fortinbras, Heisty Beardo, Kumbha Yatta, Bytan Brass, Mercury Marowit
Argus Leandros, Ike Riven, Riona Ymir, Damian Gerard, Gabriel, Sengoku Enma
@raijinslayer@zarkun@oblivion666@caits@hatakekuro

For all her speed, Ni found herself momentarily outmatched by the tenacity of Phoenix Wing's Blade. When Damian extended her a hand to help her up, she wasted no time accepting it and using his body to vault even higher onto the monster's frame. Not every soldier would be able to clamber up the monster like this, particularly with its aura of despair practically oozing from every repulsive pore, but Ni was determined to make the most of it. Nevertheless, her hair stood on end and her tail went rigid with fright. She did, fortunately, work up the will to voice a concern to the man responsible for her achievement of this height. ”It's just a pile of skinya and organs shaped like a giant, though. I don't think it has anya weak spots.” After she said this, a nauseating rumbling noise echoed through the Flesh Giant's body. Reacting instinctively, Ni cried out at swung her axe into the wall of gore upon which she clung. As it moved, the axe changed shape, becoming much broader. The instant after she buried her weapon in the abomination, Ni hopped madly to the side, just barely managing to keep from falling. The reason why became apparent immediately: thanks to some unknown power, the axe detonated like a grenade. A messy chunk of flesh flew from the monster and splattered on the ground below, still wriggling as though alive. Moving back over, Ni peered inside the hole and found only more disgusting, violated flesh within. ”It's a start...” Producing a stone chip from her pocket, Ni watched as it transformed into a new axe before continuing her ascent.

Meanwhile, the earth rumbled threateningly between the might of an oni's magic. His was a respectable idea: if magic would not affect the Flesh Giant in any significant fashion, he could nevertheless impact it by reaching out to the ground upon which it stood. Yet this plan, appropriately for its creator, exhibited a perilous amount of impulsiveness and lack of forethought. After all, the town of Belka stood at least partially on a precipice over a canyon far, far below. Only after this battle might Enma realize how completely he lucked out in his quake not sending portions of Belka tumbling to a messy end. At the moment, though, his tremor shifted the ground enough to cause the giant to pause.

In a spectacular fashion, Argus pole-vaulted his way onto the daunting aberration. Despite this marvelous display, the damage he did to it with daggers could only be described as paltry, and even though he succeeded in inserting a lacrima into the Flesh Giant's outer layer, its position did not even come close to being central.

Into the air Ike blasted himself, and around him negative energy swirled like a black hole, constructing from chaos the shape of an enormous mallet. For the first time, the Flesh Giant seemingly reacted to an attack. The very act took on the mantle of a sinister omen: could it be that this nightmarish abomination had not even noticed the soldiers swarming around it until now? Yet notice it did, and one of it colossal, misshapen arms moved toward the source of what it apparently perceived as a threat. The great hammer fell, but the hideous one's arm rose, and as the two met the sound of horrid, distorted screaming rent the air. A hundred voices or more composed that haunted, wretched cry, each set of vocal cords slave to the corpse amalgam of which they were part. All could see that the physical force of Ike's awesome hammer, delivered in a moment of something approaching vulnerability thanks to the efforts of Enma, halted it for a moment. Chunks of flesh sailed down from the impact point and flopped around on the ground.

The next second, a screaming orb of condensed fire bulled into the monster's leg. Rather than exploding instantly, it dug into its target's flesh, creating a crater. Then the Blitz detonated, the deafening noise stunning for a moment anyone too close, but when the whorl of flame died down no real damage had been done. Bytan's warning rang true, but still the sight inspired despair in all who saw it. Sadly, this was only the beginning.

Before the eyes of Frenzy Plant, the Flesh Giant began its own attack. Its roar shook the night, and from its body it jettisoned hundreds of piece of flesh, each twisted into a deadly projectile drenched in toxic fluids and wreathed in foul energy. The soldiers attempting to climb the aberration were in the most peril. Ni's keen ears alerted her to a change in the flesh right in front of her, and without a second's hesitation she threw herself free, moving her expanding axe in front of her body to block. Instantly two spears of noxious, defiled bone shot outward from where she'd been clinging, striking her axe with enough force to crack the stone and break the weapon apart. If the war sphinx had stalled for just a second, she would have been brutally and ruthlessly killed, then most likely resurrected as a ghoul to fight against her own allies. "Myaaaaaaaaaaagh!" Ni fell back toward the ground, careening out of control, but her guildmates had their own problems. If any soldier failed to go on the defensive, the consequences would be dire.

Hundreds of meters away, the feet of an old man and a hefty young woman beat against the ground. Around them the remainder of Frenzy Plant's soldiers, acting as guards, were forced to slow down to accommodate them. All the same, they came.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Abel Fulgurate

Having finished preparing in team SASG's room, which culminated in the somewhat-ceremonial donning of his favorite blue jacket, Abel felt at peace. As mundane as his actions over the past few hours had been, they truly did take the edge of the concerns that prodded him, and now, with all of his ducks in a row, he could depart for an evening in Vale with a mind unclouded. Before he left, though, he made his way to a cage situated on one of the cabinets. Several feet wide and only a little less deep, the enclosure contained all sorts of toys and terrain. Upon a grassy knoll slumbered Scoot the ferret, and the city of the little critter curled up and fidgeting in his dreams brought a warm smile to Abel's face. He dared not pet the small dude for fear it might awaken him, but he badly wanted to. An ethereal sigh escaped from his lips, and he turned toward the door.

With his left hand in his pocket, he strode through the silent corridors toward the airship docks. Despite the plan seemingly in order, he moved rather hesitantly. His teammates had yet, after all, to reply to the group text message to which Abel had most recently responded. Though not obsessive, the guardian absolutely preferred to have a plan agreed upon before taking any significant action. Deprived of such organization, any kind of group venture could only end in disaster: boredom, frustration, and regret. Abel knew that he could not let that happen. His team needed no more divisions.

A few moments passed while he read a poster advertizing for some sort of Beacon robotics club attached to the wall. The flier did not really pique his interest, but he felt it necessary to while away a little time in the hopes that his scroll would buzz from a newly-received message telling him what exactly to do. After all, if he hopped on an airship to Vale and it turned out Gren was making his own dinner while Shiro changed his mind, he'd be all alone in a big, crowded city. His patience was rewarded—a vibration in his pocket prompted him to produce the scroll and view the new revelation. What he saw, however, made him frown.

"Hey, y'all want to come out to Vale and hang out or something? Y'all don't have to if you don't want. Just an idea." What? Hadn't Shiro gotten confirmation just a little while ago that both Gren and Abel would be happy enough to accompany him to a pizzeria in Vale? Maybe the faunus forgot. Abel, remembering his comrade's issues with memory in the past, felt sadness pour over him. Dealing with an amnesiac reminded him too closely of dealing with a relative with Alzheimer’s. Memories made people who they were; interacting with someone, knowing that their memories might slip away at any time, filled him with helplessness and sorrow. Carefully, Abel's fingers moved across the touchscreen. As per usual, his large digits sometimes pressed more than one letter key at once, and sometimes one he didn't mean to at all, but this time he kept these little accidents to a minimum.

To: Gren Orchid, Kuhaku Shiro
From: Abel Fulgurate
Subject: Re: Arcade and pizza?

Of course we want to hang out with you. I'm ready to go now. What's the address of the place I should go?

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

@Lugubrious Just so you know, since you're not in the group chat, all the players who are part of the Wards are to vote on which character they want to act as the team leader. Whoever the group as a whole votes in will be the in character decision made by the PRT director. So you can vote which Ward you'd want to be leader here or throw it at me in skype, or whatevs.

@ProPro

I'll look into it.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

@Lugubrious

Whatever happened to the dude with his mouth sewn closed? Don't tell me I hallucinated that.

@SevenStormStyle

Oh...him? Jay, the one with an Embodiment tattoo on his the bridge of his nose similar to the girl Sienna from the Island mission, who had one under her eye? Who has some sort of sound-based ability that he used against Ozpin himself...? No, that wasn't a hallucination, but you don't need to worry about him, probably nothing...

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Still got my mission to finish.

@Lucius Cypher

Meant 'final' as in 'my final', sorry.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Man, am I excited that Brewing Storm, the final mission, is on the brink of completion! I have a plan in store that I think everyone will enjoy.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

<Snipped quote by Abillioncats>

It's really, really not.

There's a reason I ignore the OOC ninety nine point nine percent of the time. I rather enjoy my IQ where it is, and would not enjoy the drops that slamming my head into my desk as many times as the OOC would require would cause. Nor do I particularly need my blood pressure raised, though if the doctor ever says I need medication for that, I'll decline. Because I can just start regularly reading the OOC.

@Krayzikk

Is that what you really think of your fellow players?

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Elliot Prat

Margrave

Name: Elliot Prat
Alias: Margrave
Age: 17
Alignment: Wannabe Antihero, formerly Wannabe Villain
Loyalty: Unofficial Ward
Appearance: A white male of lanky proportions, 6'1”, most often clothed in dark colors. His features, from his nose to his jaw to his cheekbones, are angular, and his nose itself is rather prominent. By nature his brown hair is poofy, and he keeps it styled upward. His earlobes are attached, his eyes are a murky brown, and he has slightly yellowed teeth. His favorite attire includes a dark green high-collared trench coat that belonged to his grandfather and a black baseball cap.
History: Elliot came into the world in a rough period for his family. Poor, without a house, and constantly on the move, his parents did their best to love him and raise him while teaching him important lessons about life. Elliot learned quickly, becoming a very serious and reserved child. As the years went by, his family persisted in a state of continuous change. For a few months he and his parents might be living in an apartment or condo, and immediately after be back on the road in a station wagon. When Elliot was four, the trio finally settled, and Elliot went to school. Though not very social at all, he excelled in his classes, displaying streaks of perfectionism. Knowing that he needed something else to work on, his parents enrolled him in a kickboxing class, and he took to it like a fish to water. Eventually he found himself on the receiving end of some bullies, but rather than silently put up with their abuse he displayed a newfound confidence. One bully provoked him into punching, but even though Elliot missed, his enemies decided to find easier prey. All throughout middle school, nothing really changed.

Only in high school did he start to open up, his defensive shell cracking to allow dry humor and the occasional hilarious remark to seep through. Meanwhile, he continued to study, balancing a life of school, video games, and hanging out with friends. He saw no problem in trying beer or a cigarette when pressured to but, finding neither remotely to his liking, he never tried them again. Elliot instead dedicated himself to a new goal: scholarship. Though his family's condition had improved immensely from his early youth, there was not a single sliver of a chance he'd be able to attend college. In scholarship, though, he found a solution: a full-ride to a local university, if only he continue to excel. In his sophomore and junior years he did exactly that, but a dark and brooding foe lay on the horizon. Confronted with Calculus II, a college-level course, in senior year, he was stumped for the first time. Having become accustomed to overcoming every obstacle easily, Elliot grew uncharacteristically distraught disturbingly quickly. He grew more and more crazed in his desperation, knowing that his future lay on the line. Yet his pride would not allow him to cheat. Though he enlisted the teacher for help, he continued to struggle, and at the end of the second semester opened a yellow envelope with shaking hands to discover that he'd fallen afoul of the cutoff for the full-ride scholarship by only a small margin.

Elliot stared at the paper, mouth agape and eyes wide. In his quest to get a passing grade, he'd practically severed ties with all of his friends. He'd staked everything on this—and now he'd failed. With a shattered confidence, knowing that he'd doomed himself to a rotten life and disappointed everyone who knew him, he went berserk. Before, he'd made certain to keep excelling by punishing himself when he failed, so what came next seemed obvious. Seizing a metal pan, he smashed it against his own forehead. The impact dazed him and the held-back tears poured forth, but he did it again. Two more times he cracked the pan against his head, not really caring if he lived or not. The fourth time, however, the pan broke off. Elliot didn't discover why until he awoke an hour later to the sound of his mother coming into the apartment. Deaf to her shriek of fear, he touched the broken, plastic pot that lay before him before passing out again.

After recovering, Elliot was advised to go to therapy, but he shrugged it off. With school over with, he took to spending a lot of time outside, exploring the city. He'd discovered something new about himself, and in doing so he changed. A new attitude had taken him over, forming a sort of persona. He acted strangely and extravagantly without any restraint. He continued to work as a junior instructor for his kickboxing studio, albeit with a shocking new persona that the kids thought was pretty awesome, and he earned enough money to live off of. Out of the studio he sought something different. After a painstaking search, he attempted to get in with the local supervillain gang, only to be conspired against and brutally kicked out for his lame attitude and power. With no other options, he sought the local Wards. Perhaps its leader took pity on Elliot, but nevertheless he finally found somewhere he felt as if he belonged, though he'd never show it.

Personality

Motivations: Elliot wants, more than anything, to be recognized. The road starts with getting attention and ends with getting famous—preferably infamous. He wants people to know his name, and to respect him.
Sexuality: Straight
Likes:

• Looking cool
• Beating others at petty competitions
• Taking advantage of others
• Company
• Potato crisps
• Exercise
• Flaring up with no real reason
• Playing 'lone wolf' DPS characters in games
• Action movies, especially martial arts movies

Dislikes:

• Being alone
• Being ignored
• Being wrong
• His lame power
• People who are full of themselves
• Goody-goodies
• Artificial sweeteners
• Support players who whine a lot in games

Derangement: To Elliot, the only way to become renowned and respected is to be respected through fear. To that end, he goes to frequently absurd lengths to speak and act mysteriously and threateningly, though more often than not this comes across as acting confusingly and obnoxiously. He cannot conceive of a different way to get famous and is completely ignorant of his own shortcomings.

Parahumanism

Skills: Elliot is a fast runner, with somewhat higher than usual stamina. He's pretty smart, and can produce a sense of humor from time to time, but what he's really good at is pissing other people off. When it comes to ideas, schemes, plots, plans, and so forth that might bamboozle, infuriate, or enrage others, Elliot's the guy. He's also got a hint of a British accent that tends to intrigue people who aren't familiar with it. From kickboxing lessons he's taken since he was eleven, he's got notable fist-fighting ability, as well as the strength to go with it, though his pain tolerance is surprisingly low.
Classification: Striker
Details: Upon touching an inanimate object, Elliot can turn it into a toy version of itself. This may include substance change (for instance, to plastic) size change, and so forth. The rate of toyification is tied to his mental state; when he's calm, the transformations go at an unremarkable speed, but if he's excited or scared, the process can be sped up by several times depending on intensity. Objects will tend to turn into toy versions of themselves that replicate or at least resemble existing toys. Someone's mech suit might, then, turn into a Transformer. A few traits are shared among all of the toys created by Elliot's power: they are simple, they are destructible, and they are harmless. An anvil, turned into a plastic toy, could be easily crushed. Elliot has some control over the change; IE he could choose whether to turn a gun into a Nerf gun, a Super Soaker, or a tiny action-figure accessory.
Limitations: This toy-transformation power can only emanate from Elliot's hands. He wouldn't be able to defend himself from anything threatening to harm his body if he couldn't physically touch it with his hands. Additionally, if one of his toys is moved out of close proximity to him, it will quickly begin to revert to its original form. This also applies to toy versions of things he might want to use himself, like vehicles or hidden weapons. Of course, this power is also of very little use in direct combat with other parahumans.
Equipment: At all times, Elliot has in some pocket or another handfuls of foam knives and action figure weapons. He's also got a little canteen and a bag of beef jerky, which he enjoys. His heavy clothing might also provide a little defense, but it's no substitute for anything resembling actual armor. However, he does wear cloth shin-guards and forearm guards beneath his clothes when out and about, which are valuable when fighting unarmed. As a Ward, he's also got a Protectorate Communication Earpiece and a holographic computer interfacing tool, courtesy of Decoy.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

@yoshua171 Sweetness, Tulpa is all set to go! Slap her down in the CS tab my man!

@Banana Glad to hear! Still plenty of positions open, especially in the local villain team!

@Lugubrious Yo, any reason Margrave didn't get added to the CS tab?

@ProPro

Just haven't gotten around to it yet.