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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

By the way @Lugubrious, just out of curiosity, what is the plan for Priscilla seeing as her player has disappeared into the warp?


She'll be an NPC, controllable by players on the same team as they see fit.
Abel Fulgurate


The very instant Abel replaced his scroll in his pocket, the tone rang out that signified the arrival of a new message. That quickly? He slipped the device out again, leaning against the wall as he did. Sapphire? Should have known. Unfortunately, she did not want to join the group, citing some other responsibility to concern herself with. He didn't know whether he believed her, but if she thought she needed rest or solitude, that was that. Abel quietly bemoaned this turn of events. While his team did not share the friendliest dynamic around, he wanted with absolute sincerity to get over this rockiness and reunite with the people that were supposed to be his brothers in arms—especially Sapphire. The blue-haired leader of Swansong had only herself to blame for her current relationship with her teammates, but that didn't mean that Abel wanted her excluded. Even if she treated him coldly, he felt inclined to try and be a proper comrade for her. She was, after all, his partner. Fate had brought them together in the Emerald Forest, and the guardian wasn't one to give up on fate so easily.

Still, he could look forward to joining the boys, at least. Moving quickly now with great strides, Abel made tracks to the airship docks. On the way, he stopped when prompted by his scroll to check his inbox again. Suddenly excited to be headed out and doing something in the city of Vale, a place almost totally new to him, he read the message's contents, popped the scroll back into his pocket, and resumed his saunter with something on his face dangerously close to a smile. “Now we've got a plan,” he ruminated aloud. “The wheels are turning!” In no time at all he found himself squinting slightly in the late afternoon sun, just starting to go to gold. Heart light, he headed for the airport.

Almost immediately he spotted Shiro. Altering his course for his faunus friend, he raised an arm to shout a greeting. As he did, though, his eyes chanced to land upon the people right around him, and his shout died in his throat. At least, it tried to; something malformed, never meant to see the light of day, rose from the grave and squirmed out instead. “Auehh?!” Of all things he might have seen, he did not expect to find Sepia and...Krysanthe. What was she doing here? Not that he didn't want to see her, but...he wasn't ready! After showering, he'd paid absolutely zero attention to his hair, and while he very seldom fretted about his appearance, the fact seemed awfully conspicuous all of a sudden. Feeling like a big goon, he took a few seconds to compose himself. Could she have heard that goofy grunt? No, no...she was too far away, for certain. At that moment his scroll went off again and, grateful for the distraction, he browsed the new updates from Gren, two in rapid succession. On closer inspection, the second text looked to be for him alone. Sneaking a glance back toward the group, he recognized that Sepia did, though he wouldn't have immediately noticed on his own, seem to be in some sort of distress. “Thanks, buddy,” he mumbled as he ducked behind a planter. As fast as he could, he ran his fingers through his hair, effectively combing it back into the realm of civilized hair.

Abel took a deep breath, straightened himself up, and strode back into the open. With his left hand back in his pocket, he made his way toward Shiro, Sepia, and Krysanthe at a leisurely pace, trying to seem neither too eager nor too flippant. Once in range, he greeted them, “Hey! Good evening!” Only at that moment he realized that if he just barged in, he might upset Sepia somehow. Sweating on the inside, Abel gave his best attempt at a smile, and sidled closer to the other students. He maneuvered his way farthest away from Sepia, ending up somewhere near the middle between Krysanthe and Shiro. His hands clasped behind his back, not unlike the stance of a butler or bellboy. In earlier years he'd learned that such a position made him seem attentive and ready to lend a hand if need by, but removed and noncommittal at the same time. Standing like this, even a huge man could seem small, and even a big dolt could seem useful—at least, so he hoped. Unfortunately, it seemed as if he'd entered into a thick silence. “I..I hope I'm not intruding?” He murmured to Krysanthe, judging that staying totally silent after just arriving would be the weirder course of action.


Shrugging, Panoptos let go of Uhelei. The tribesman brushed him off brusquely, but even with a mask obscuring his features his relief could be felt. After just bearing witness to the Council's agents in combat, even when not fighting with their full power, he knew that the casualties should they decide to bulldoze through the villages would be catastrophic. That said, the idea of traversing that place sent shivers down his proverbial spine. Few realms posed the kind of constant threat that the Undersky could, but even then there existed some regions that the inhabitants just didn't go. Still, he would do it without complaint, for it meant that his race would lose no children today. His own resentfulness at his exile did not even begin to factor in to this consideration.

Wordlessly, then, Uhelei began to move. Panoptos hovered for a moment before following behind him, and one by one the other agents fell in. Their guide led them across the uneven surface toward the edge of the massive stalactite, then counter-clockwise along its rim. A somewhat narrow path spiraled slowly upward, and the group hurried along it. All the while, an odd wind swept across them, and what may have been miles beneath them the yellow-tinged clouds whirled like a maelstrom. Eventually the spiral path led to a semicircular clearing, and at an angle perpendicular to the stone face a manmade catwalk extended straight out over the void. For hundreds of meters it lay suspended without any sign of support over the open void. At its opposite end it adhered to a similar platform on the edge of another, small stalactite. From this distance, something could be glimpsed behind that stalactite, too, but any efforts to discern what it was aside from black, fibrous, and ominous would turn up nothing. Onto the straight path Uhelei strode fearlessly, and while Souta balked for a moment, he -as the second lightest of the groundbound agents present- followed suit. His clawed gauntlets vanished in a stream of bright water, replaced by the warhammer Escre. With it in hand he walked right in the center of the long, lonely road.

Before too long, the group arrived at the second stone formation. Rather than a route that skirted its edge, free to the air, this stalactite harbored a dark tunnel straight through. Its walls, jagged and haphazard, made for irritating going. As he trudged carefully along, Souta wondered exactly what could have made this tunnel. It certainly seemed like nothing that a tool could do. Given its size, which easily accommodated the large frame of Fenn, he wanted to think that it might be the product of some kind of vehicle, but in a place like this it hardly seemed likely. Lost in thought, he nearly ran into Uhelei, who'd stopped just before rounding a corner of the winding tunnel illuminated by the Undersky's bizarre light. ”What's the hold-up?

Glancing back, Uhelei moved aside to let him pass, and Souta stepped out of the tunnel onto a substantial cliffside. At once, he realized why the light cast into the tunnel had been so sporadic. Before him stretched a seemingly infinite tangle of vines, fully three-dimensional, mobile, and rather daunting. With no solid ground in sight, the brownish-green expanse reminded him of a colossal jungle gym—or a spider web. About a dozen vines connected to the cliff on which he stood, but their manner of mooring caught his interest. Instead of growing out of the rock like plants, they appeared to be stuck there, as if pasted on by a massive glue gun. Tentatively he approached one of the vines, and with his hammer he poke it. Individual fibers separated around the spike, but try as he might he could not jam it in. ”It's like steel cable. Hey, what is this place?” He cast a dubious glance at Uhelei.

“The home of your terrors,” the guide replied, his mechanical voice low. “We call it 'Viranhk Voknosto—the Hanging Jungle. The path to the seal is on the other side.”
@Lugubrious

I have an upgrade idea for Sangue's Apophis Claw!



I have 13 credits so I plan on using 7 credits because it feels like a major armory upgrade! Here's the differences that the upgraded Claw brings:



If there's anything I need to change, let me know!


Seems about right. I will approve.
@Lugubrious, @Harinezumikouken, @Prince of Seraphs

I would like to cash in 10 of my 11 credits in order to purchase a sub plot.

The sub plot will be in the form of a soft-mission, antagonized by @Plank Sinatra

Supporting cast will be @Crimmy's Gratia Mindaro, @Silvan Haven's Beryl Harken, and @HereComesTheSnow's Luke Schwarz.

Everyone involved was already made aware. This mission can take place of the Saturday, Sunday before family time.

Thank you.


Good stuff.
Out of everyone in the room, none sat more stonily than the one known as Margrave. Rigidly he reclined against the chair's back, both elbows on the table, with his hands folded together over his mouth. Compared to the likes of Sonar, or Ink, the newly-arrived girl codenamed 'Tulpa', or anyone, he looked positively ordinary. Dark clothes and a dark hat casting an obscuring shadow over his sharp features simply did not compare to gaudy costumes or physical mutation. Instead, he distinguished himself with his bearing—one of utmost seriousness, befitting an ambassador present to a council responding to a nuclear threat, perhaps. Most importantly, though, this invisible mask of fortitude and dignity hid that, beneath it all, Elliot was totally freaking out.

After all, though he'd known the other Wards for a short time, he'd never met these Protectorate capes until now. In his head, he was panting like a man dealt a garbage hand in a critical game of poker. Was this what it was like to be in the presence of real power? For a villain who walked the path of fear such as he, he could not afford to trifle with the masters of heroes. He could feel cold sweat running down his side, across his ribs and into the cloth of his pants.Oh boy...oh boy....oh boy... Just being here made his nerves go nuts, but fortunately, the intimidation also helped keep his body mostly frozen. To Elliot's chagrin, he could feel himself shaking slightly with an infrequent but almost violent twitch, mostly in his hands. Are they noticing? No way they'll figure me out. My game face is imperceptible. I'm not scared at all, guys. Most frightening, certainly, was his lack of knowledge. He knew pretty much nothing about the reputation or powers of these heroes, despite the fame of a few of them. What was a poor guy to do? Elliot did the only thing he could: listen. Kens' shpeal played out about how he expected: be friendly, make Tulpa feel at home, yadda yadda. Though he allowed no hint of rebellion to betray him, Elliot's inward resolve was firmer than steel. The Margrave would do no such thing. A force of true darkness could never be expected to stoop to being buddy-buddy with a mere mortal.

Following the director's explanation and instruction, the conference room's occupants all began to move. The intriguing projection of the enigmatic inventor vanished, more fleetingly than a dream at break of day. One by one the capes introduced themselves to the newbie, some very warmly. All the while the Margrave remained still, watching with a face of wrought iron. First among the Wards to make a move, all too predictably for an astute observer such as the one and only Margrave, was Collin. Elliot could remember the first time he heard the boy's real name. It caused him to tremble in barely-suppressed, disdainful mirth. No hero could ever be taken seriously with a name like that, as Elliot helpfully informed him. This, of course, led to backlash when Collin found out Elliot's own name, but all too easily, he had a counter ready. Elliot? Who is Elliot? That no-account boy lives no longer. Before you stands a being transcended, one exposed to the secrets of the cosmos and baptized in darkness. I assure you, the elusive Margrave has left humanity, and a paltry human name, far behind. How perfect that had been!

Elliot pulled himself back to the present. He found Dean beginning to introduce himself, as well. In the course of it, the so-called Martyr erred in mentioning Elliot. How could you? I am the only one who can do my true nature justice...

After him, Tulpa responded. For the first time, Elliot deigned to examine her. Possessed of both an extravagant costume and a shapely figure, Tulpa caught eyes easily. Instantly Elliot marked her as an normal person despite whatever power she might be revealed to have. Like bees, fishes, and birds, fools dressed themselves up in gaudy colors to trick others into thinking they were special. Ones possessed of true awareness developed themselves in obscurity until they could back up an awe-inspiring appearance with great ability. That said, she seemed pleasant enough. If a gun were stuck to Elliot's head and he were forced to say something positive about the Wards, he'd sheepishly admit -definitely without crapping his pants- that heroes were much easier to coexist with than villains. He recalled all too readily the half-day he spent with the local villain gang. The bruises still hurt...

With Tulpa's piece said, Elliot felt it time to make himself known. Slowly he stood up from the table, turning his head to face her. He held it at an odd angle before straightening up and beginning to walk. His approach, with its exaggerated steps, radiated confidence and mystique. Finally, he raised one arm to lay across his chest. Upon its wrist he placed his other elbow, and he splayed that hand's fingers over his face. From between his digits he stared into the eyes of Tulpa's mask, and with a voice as firm and sharp as a razor he spoke, “I regret to say that you will wonder evermore! Do not think less of yourself for it, though. Few can comprehend the true depth of the tragic hero you see before you. Who am I, you might ask? I have many names, but above all else they call me the Margrave, named for the noble and ruthless lord of a bastion on the borders of a great nation. If you must blink, do it now, for now you, newcomer, are a part of my enthralling story.” Wham! How cool is that? That's right, I'm a badass!
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

We're still going to be able to RP out Saturday and Sunday, right?


Yep!
To the participants in the remaining mission still ongoing: my recent post isn't forcing you to rush along or moving things ahead; it is merely to set the stage for future events and give those finished with their missions something else to think about.

I hope that my plan appeals to everyone!


Conic blasts of arcane force disabled its right foreleg. Rods of serrated metal ripped into its eyes, turning the world dark. A barrage of bullets riddled it, causing cracks to appear in its bony face, before a deluge of fire swept across its flesh to fill the air with the acrid odor of burning fur. An envenomed saber lacerated exposed flesh again and again. Two bladed sticks, driven by gravity and furious strength, perforated its back. Then came the ultra greatsword Caletfwlch, its steel harmonically resonant with its heroic wielder's own soul, and it sang a ballad of revelation for this grim titan. In all its years of slaughter and destruction the Manticore never came close to this newfound feeling: doom. The shining blade bit deep into its flesh to lodge in the bone, and the monster's mask of wrath lay atop a head half-free of its body. No matter if it somehow found the strength to slay each and every human present, the Manticore would not survive this lethal wound, and of this fact it seemed acutely aware.

Beacon's students would not, of course, allow it to perish passively.

Throughout the entirety of their insertion, the Manticore did not take the slightest note of the lightning pins jammed like acupuncture needles throughout its hide. Grievously wounded, it only shambled from side to side, thrashing weakly, when electricity arced between those plentiful rods. Across its body Jack dashed at a breakneck speed, attacking again and again—a death of a thousand cuts. When the numbness from the bolt shocks set in, and the deprivation of vital fluid thanks to overabundant cuts, the huge beast ceased its thrashing altogether. Finally, the nails in its coffin sailed forth, lead-tipped and rapid-fire from the barrels of Amaranth's weapons. They pierced the flesh of the sad excuse for a neck that remained, and all the while the faunus tied around its neck a noose of steel. In the next instant it was over. Her body weight combined with the might of her leader messily tore the Manticore's head from its body. With all the momentousness of a cathedral bell cut from its rightful place it plummeted toward the earth, and against the unyielding surface of the distillery's main lot it exploded into a cloud of black smoke. Soon after, the rest of the creature, already starting to dissolve, sagged to the earth like a mudslide. The king of the marshlands, terrifying and awe-inspiring in its fearsome majesty...rendered an inert, wretched pile of viscera, and shortly thereafter, dust on the wind.

For the first time in the whole day, a wind whistled through the dingy swampland. It carried away the smells of blood, char, and gunsmoke, and the muggy atmosphere lessened. The last of the inky vapor that had only moment before been a beast of legend slipped away, leaving nothing behind but the destruction it had wrought.

The airship settled down in a leisurely fashion on the lot. When the pilot appeared to stand at the top of the ramp, he was clapping. The other survivors joined in, some cheering or even dancing in joy and relief. At the same time, Goodwitch appeared, having been absent from the remainder of the fight. Though she walked as imperiously as ever, the ever-critical hardness in her eyes was almost imperceptibly smaller, and behind her floated three additional drums of distillery chemicals.

“Not bad, for next to no verbal coordination. Not bad at all...” The enthused shout of Lauren, delivered from the drum-laden truck pulled up not far away, drew her attention. “...Indeed. Despite all odds, it seems your teams have weathered this storm, and come out of the experience richer in wisdom and camaraderie as well as wealth.” She assisted in transferring the drums from the truck to the airship with her semblance. As luck would have it, the total weight of people and property was just less the limit for taking off, though everyone could expect a long ride home. “In light of the results,” Goodwitch commented after the vehicle got underway. “I imagine that this mission will be labeled a 'great success'.” For a moment, she stiffened, then turned back in the passenger seat to face forward. The light of a late afternoon sky, just going to gold, made her blond hair look as though it was glowing. “...Well done.”

-=-=-


Participants:
Benjamin Lloyd, Amaranth Desire, Sangue Naga, Lauren Negasi;
Jack Orpheus, Cian Kuze, Lucas Schwarz

Survivors Rescued: 12
Ally Rescued: Priscilla Montgomery, forming team 'JPCL'
Drums Acquired: 28

Individual Reward: 5 Credits, 2,000 lien each
Bonus reward: 28,000 lien, evenly distributed by mission coordinators to each student
Collective Reward: 5 Credits, 6,000 lien each

Status: Brewing Storm......complete
Great success


-=-=-

Late Friday Night


In the evening, the following message appeared in both the scrolls and the more rarely-used student e-mail accounts for each of Beacon's hunters-in-training.

To: Student Body
From: Beacon administrative office
Re: Monday's Events

Greetings, students of Beacon. I hope to find you well.

Then again, that may be a bit hasty of me. It cannot be argued that many of the missions undertaken by our students in recent weeks have been unexpectedly heavy. In light of this misfortune, and in the spirit of celebrating your accomplishments, Monday's schedule is going to be different. As the upperclassmen may know, the upcoming Monday is a holiday taken off by most primary academies across Vale, but one that Beacon treats as though it's an ordinary day. Instead of following this rule, Monday will instead be a day off, but one with several school-wide events taking place throughout the day. All students will be able to participate in the events. They are as follows:

9:00 A.M. - meeting at the Beacon outdoors athletic center. Coffee and Shiny D will be available for free, as well as freshly-baked crepes, which have not been served at this school before.
9:45 A.M. - commencement of a race through a newly-renovated special obstacle course. Prizes will be available for first, second, and third place.
1:00 P.M. - the grand debut of Beacon's first 'Stone Cold Showdown' wrestling tournament! Signups will be available at Professor Algernon Fullbuster's desk in the athletic center all morning. Contenders will need to adopt a persona, get psyched, get pumped, and get ready for a full-force throwdown in the ring! The first round, a massive free-for-all, will finish when just four contenders have aura remaining. Two semifinal matches will lead to a grand finals match to declare the champion! No charge for attendance, so make sure to grab a seat! ...Though you'll only need the edge.

One final note: in addition, the entire day also doubles as a 'home-away-from-home' day. The parents of our freshmen will be invited to visit the academy and permitted to stay the whole day.

We hope that every one of you will enjoy this day of leisure, reunion, and friendly competition to the fullest!

-Naranja Valdez


At about the same time, anyone watching television would be treated to the following event:

“We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for a breaking news story. In a stunning turn of events, bystanders called Vale PD to a remarkable scene this morning: not far outside the east side of Vale, a 'battleground' was discovered that appears to have been the location of a large-scale, armed confrontation between the White Fang and the highly-rumored secret organization 'Phantom Force', as revealed by a cryptic clue left on the premises. From the casualties discovered on-site, preliminary findings suggest that whatever kind of presence the White Fang has had in Vale has been seriously diminished. Could this be the first public operation of a group of dangerous criminals working beneath our very noses for all these months? Stay tuned for the full story at eleven.”
<Snipped quote by Guess Who>

Endless Life Model Decoys


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