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Recent Statuses

24 days ago
Current Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
4 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

Slayer
Level 1
Day 1
Locations: Gentlemen’s Fight Club / Tetris Castle Reception Hall
@Holy Soldier @Aether Spawn @Dracolunaris @Argetlam350 @Bright_Ops @Hylozoist @Loki Odinson @Lmpkio @Simple Unicycle


Over the entire establishment, a sort of smoky haze hung without cease. Though not particularly obnoxious by itself, it lent itself completely to the place’s atmosphere. Its air was a unique cocktail mixed from vintage class, impeccable style, a dose of stuffiness, a hint of grandeur, and an ever-so-slight note of delirium. Breathing it in might remind one of a boozy pool-hall, but there the similarities ended. Instead of broken dreams, this hall reeked of old-world pomp. It swirled propriety and manliness into a concoction found nowhere else but its founder’s distant memories. Rather than drunks, ne’er-do-wells, vagabonds, curs, and other such swill, it catered to gentlemen. Throughout the uncrowded rooms they could be found, clad in suit jackets, suspenders, ascots, cummerbunds, clogs, top hats, bowlers, flat caps, and even a kilt or two. Canes, pocketwatches, monocles, and mustaches were in abundance. They played cards, swapped old stories, smoked, sipped aged liquor, and -of course- fought.

One such fight raged now. A burly, mustachioed mountain of a man sparred a stick-thin, slick-haired speedster. The former’s boxing style hadn’t yet managed to land a hit on his younger, goatee-wearing contender. In any other establishment, such a bout would have been an unruly brawl worthy of contempt, but here, things were very different. With every punch, a miniature cyclone of wind spun around the boxer’s arms, and to dodge each knockout blow the speedster moved so quickly he turned into a pinstriped blur. After all, the duels fought at this Gentlemen’s Club embodied skill and refinement a step above the level of ordinary humans. With fingers folded into a tent, the club’s owner watched the fight from a luxurious red-cushioned seat on the fringe of the main room. Contrary to what most might think given his reputation, he did enjoy observing these friendly duels greatly. New styles of fighting never failed to interest him. In the bigger picture, however, they weren’t the reason why a smile of contentment adorned his face whilst he puffed his pipe. Here, in his little corner of the world lost to time, Slayer felt truly comfortable.

A white shape caught his eye. Last time he checked, the smoke in his club wasn’t nearly thick enough to form a cloud—particularly one with eyes. On second glance, Slayer spotted a bizarre animal perched atop it. His wife Sharon, seated by his side, noticed as well. With one eyebrow wordlessly raised, he watched the thing approach him. When it floated only about a foot away, the yellow turtle-create handed him a letter. He scanned it. ”A hero, am I?” he murmured at length. Glancing at Sharon, he passed it to her so that she could also read. ”A most interesting proposition. I’m not anxious to go and deal with someone else’s trouble when there are so many young things chomping at the bit to be heroes, but perhaps this would be an opportunity to observe something truly amazing. Besides, I could use some air. May I go, dear?”

Sharon smiled. ”You may, darling. Enjoy yourself!”

Slayer leaned over and the two shared a kiss. Then he stood, adjusted his tie, and selected the ‘yes’ option. A moment later he was gone, and before the dust had a chance to settle, there came a loud thud as the speedster hit the floor.

-=-=-


A castle, completely empty, replaced the fight club in Slayer’s view. ”How uniquely…bland. Oh?” It did not take him long to notice the others, with more appearing every second in flashes of white. He laid eyes upon several soldiers of various levels of technological advancement, a white wolf, a plumber, a female gremlin, an assassin in black, an assassin in white, and several creatures that defied classification. Anthropomorphic animals, Slayer decided, was the best way to describe them. Some looked downright silly, but none so much as the diminutive, oddball orange thing plodding his way. The vampire couldn’t understand Q-bert, but he could recognize a summons when he heard one. After taking a puff of his pipe, Slayer placed his hands in his jacket pockets and followed at a leisurely pace.

Soonafter, he found himself in a sort of banquet hall. Some of the people who Slayer supposed must be fellow heroes set to eating, whilst others set to meeting and greeting. Bereft of an appetite, he walked until he was decently far away from the others, then pulled out a chair that he angled away from the table before sitting. Curiosity needled him, but he felt no rush to get answers. Nobody else paid much attention to him, so he returned the favor, thinking about the letter’s contents while his fingers rested on the sides of his pipe. Alas, this proved to be a mistake, for when the food fight started, he knew neither how nor why until a large globule of cake riddled with fragments of turkey sailed his way. The incoming projectile perked him up, and as it bore down upon him he wondered why a perfectly fine piece of desert would be airborne. Just before it splattered against his suit, he released his pipe with his teeth and exhaled sharply. The resulting cloud of smoke completely blocked the confection, and it dribbled miserably onto the floor. Now intrigued, if not amused, Slayer turned his attention back to the general assembly and discovered to his shock a full-blown food fight. In response, he could only heave a heavy sigh. ”I hope I have not been invited as a chaperone,” he murmured. That would be a feat of heroism too costly for my blood.”

Soon after, a pair of doors on the other end of the room opened. Slayer immediately turned to see the new arrivals. Much like the group of heroes, there didn’t appear to be a common theme. Virtually all appeared to have different ‘styles’, to go by art terms. From this consistency, Slayer felt as though he was beginning to intuit something important. Those responsible for the mealtime catastrophe attempted to right themselves, but one of the soldiers got Slayer’s attention by accepting fault for the proceedings. He couldn’t afford Buck much notice before one of the food-fighters made a spectacle of himself with a series of flips ending in a flop, then revealed himself to be someone named Mario who he clearly expected everyone else to be familiar with. Once that was out of the way, however, a brawny fellow with excellent hair took charge of the situation, informing the heroes of their next destination, and to prepare themselves for it. Being able to boast a faultless appearance, Slayer stepped forward to join the meeting.

Another table lay before them, and the vampire wasted no time sitting at it. Of all the heroes present, he was one of the first to do so, though he wondered if the others might view him as unsociable. He placed his pipe back in his mouth before producing a monocle that he then put into place. The thought of getting answers, as well as mature conversation, after such a sorry scene gave him a pleasant countenance that he showed to all present before saying a simple, ”Good morning.”
New Location


Name: Stillwater
Location Type: Township
Pokemon Types: Bug, Water, Ghost, Psychic, Dark, Poison, Rock, Grass

Lore:
A relic of the past can be found only about twelve miles southwest of Feyhollow Town: Stillwater, an antiquated fishing village. Standing at the delta of a river said to originate in the Atana Mountain Range, and propagated in the marshland that covers the area between Stillwater and Feyhollow Forest, this town is a quiet, remote place with a culture all its own.

If one has a desire to live the simple life, Stillwater is the place. Free from big-city hubbub, it is an escape from the modern world. Here, people may fish, farm, or make goods to trade in order to live. Many find meaning in their work, and in their role in the community. It is a close-knit, personable place, where people treat one another with family. Outsiders may be regarded with suspicion, for Stillwater's people are used to being looked down on by those who consider themselves sophisticated, but it is not an unwelcoming place. In fact, it is an extremely popular stopover location for trainers on their journeyers seeking to experience different walks of life.

Outside the village, the unique shoreline provides a prime location for adventure. Various remote dwellings litter its versatile terrain, from tucked away in chasms to perched on the edge of cliffs. It is home to so many grottoes, tunnels, and secret places that many consider it to be a natural labyrinth. Tales abound of hauntings and surreptitious dealings, from ghost shipwrecks to rituals of dark magic in the seaside caves. A large variety of rare Pokemon can be found here as well.

The inhabitants of the village attribute Stillwater's peaceable, slow atmosphere to a legendary Pokemon of the moonlit night, said to bring good dreams to people who treat one another well and bestow cruel nightmares on evildoers. Pokemon researchers conclude that the area is frequented by either Lunaala or Darkrai. Some visitors to the town, however, claim that the interference of the mysterious Pokemon is not as good . The town's old and sick, on the precipice of death, invariably disappear in the night only to be found stretched out on the beach in the morning. Missing persons -and even ships- are more common here than anywhere else in the region. However, these doubts are never substantiated; naysayers seldom stay for long, and none who've awoken suddenly in the night as if from nightmares have ever wanted to return to Stillwater.



Stillwater Poke Mart

An open-air storefront situated near the top of the village's iconic waterfall, catering to visiting trainers.




Stillwater Mission Board

A large board tacked to the wall inside the Poke Mart. The shopkeeper, a village elder very familiar with the town and its happenings, will approve missions



As it turned out, the Swablu wasn't out of miracles just yet. The little bird took flight and disappeared through the pitch-black canopy, and from her vantage point she spotted the soft, warm lights of Feyhollow town. After the moment it took the Pokemon to return and point out the right direction, the group was off. Given Cici's hesitation, Olivie lead the pack, whilst the Pokemon told told to accompany her by Bernard trailed behind.

The return journey proved to be remarkably short. Just as when she'd gotten lost before, Olivie reflected that the mystical yet treacherous forest was a labyrinth until its visitors knew where they were going, and no longer than that. She made a beeline for the Pokemon Center and dropped off her Pokemon, not caring to remember who needed attention, before finding her way to her room to collapse onto her bed. She went out like a light, and for the remainder of the early morning remained in a dreamless sleep.

At eight-thirty, a knock on the door woke her up. Bleary-eyed, messy-haired, and slack-jawed, Olivie stumbled out of bed to pull open the door. Bernard stood on her threshold, a worried expression on his face. He didn't look quite as healthy as normal, but the sight of his rival even in an extremely bedridden state brought a slight smile to his face. ”Good morning! Um. I was scared that you didn't make it. I was knocking for five minutes.”

Olivie shrugged. ”Whatever. You're the patient one, right?”

”Uh huh, yeah, I guess.” Barely a few seconds in to his first interaction of the day, and Barney, flummoxed by the unexpected response, stumbled on his words. He reflexively rested his hand on his belt pouch where his Pokeballs were kept, which Olivie by now thought was a trick of the mind to keep himself confident.

She sighed, brushing her hair back. What a poor sap. The girl cleared her throat before saying, ”It's time to blow this popsicle stand, Barney. I'm sick 'a forests and fairies. There's a place called Stillwater that's s'posed to be a popular spot for travelin' trainers south 'a here, or somethin'. Fishin' village. Let's get goin' in an hour or so.” When the boy nodded, Olivie stepped back and pushed the door shut as she swiveled around to head for the bathroom.

One refreshing shower later, Olivie found a quandry. Her clothes -not to mention her sheets- were lousy with leaves, dirt, and general forest detritus. The thought of sleeping in such a mess, even though she'd already done it, revolted her. All the same, the matter remained that she had nothing to wear. A flaw in her travel plan became clear; perhaps she'd packed a bit...too lightly. Grabbing a Pokeball, she sent out Buck, who frolicked across the floor in joy to see her again only to grow serious when he realized his trainer had a command. At Olivie's request, he hightailed it out of her cracked door in search of Bernard, and once he discovered the bespectacled young man just outside the Center, he made enough of a commotion to get Bernard to follow him. With her rival outside her door, Olivie slipped her card through the crack under it, and said, ”Look, Barnie. I want you to do a favor for me. My clothes are screwed and I don't have anything else. There's gotta be some kind of store in this town. Go and get me some clothes. Don't get anything girly! I bet this place has loads of girly little dresses for the fairy lovers.”

Twenty minutes later, a knock signaled Bernard's return. Discretely, Olivie acquired the new outfit and then put it on. Its main component, a cream-white sort of sweater deliberately made long enough to double as a skirt, fit remarkably well, though some tightness was unavoidable. She was able to accommodate it with her black sports leggings and undershirt. A scarf and a new hairband to replace the one she lost in the forest completed the getup. She did not particularly like it -it seemed far more girly than it was sporty- but it would suffice. A twinge of ruefulness struck her as she, pocketing her card, realized that it must have been very expensive. Without a word she left her room in her new clothes, passing straight by Bernard -who she noticed couldn't avoid gawking at her for a moment- and went to get breakfast. It did not take her long to wolf down a decent meal, gather her things, and leave the Poke Center alongside Bernard to continue her journey.



@Holy Soldier, does that mean I am cleared to put my sheet into the character sheet tab and begin posting?
Stillwater has been approved and will be introduced to the IC in my post tomorrow morning. My apologies for the delay.
@LugubriousDon't forget to answer my question.


Yes, I am confident that I can continue making abilities/techniques.
@LugubriousMy last question to you. I feel that certain fighting characters are going to be difficult to create moves for after awhile. Are you certain you can keep coming up with abilities from his game? Because you list several techniques in that one ability. I normally have players spend a general ability per tehnique and not one ability containing multiple techniques. It is to give them more to work with as the character levels.


I see. In that case, I'll thin it down to just Pile Bunker for now.
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

I made my comments in yellow.


I have outlined the 'special attacks' that Dandy Step can lead into, and I have tried to rephrase several key parts of the description to make it seem less overpowered. I've also described a few flaws in the technique that keep it from being spammable. This ability was not meant to be a catch-all solution to combat, for he won't be able to dodge everything or anything like that, but rather an important part of his fighting style that he should be careful with and that opponents should respect and attempt to exploit.
@Holy Soldier, I think I've come up with a good ability. Meanwhile, I have integrated Vampire Physiology into the strengths section, combining it with the immortality that said physiology affords him.
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