Lugubrious

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Hello again. I don't suppose the holidays have you feeling nostalgic, Kaben?

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

Mad World - Epilogue

@zarkun@lazo@kapuchu

As stumped as the watcher had been a minute ago, Panoptos' disdainful snarkiness returned in full force with remarkable speed. His emerald eyes glittered as he hung his head with sarcasm, saying, ”I can see plenty well. For instance, I can see that if you aren't within thirty meters of the seal within forty-five seconds, you'll miss your ride and be left in this stinking sky to rot. And here I thought you didn't like this place...guess I was wrong.” Cackling, the specter ascended as if shot from a cannon, a smoky trail left in his wake. As he became a black smudge next to the glory of the Seal, which by now was flickering dangerously, his cheerily condescending tone echoed down to the group. ”Before you get smart with me, try and remember who your lives are at the mercy of! Didn't you hellspawn ever learn to not bite the hand that feeds you?”

As far as he was concerned, Souta felt gratified that he'd avoided Panoptos' rebuke. As much as he loathed the stuck-up shadow, he was the smith's boss, and in his time on earth Souta had learned that one could either suck it up and work under a bad boss or lose one's livelihood. Still, Panoptos' announcement of the Agents' impending time limit took him by surprise. ”Forty-five seconds?!” Water sprang from his clothes and flooded across his arms into his hands, becoming both the rifle Deluge and a Trawler. He jammed the butt of the hook into the barrel of the gun, took aim at the massive target hovering above, and fired. The crystalline spike carried the hook with it to the end of its range, made possible solely by the magic projectile's lack of bullet drop. When it got too close to the Seal's power, the spike exploded in midair, launching the hook into the Seal itself. A few experimental tugs confirmed that the hook was jammed in, and with less than twenty seconds left Souta activated the Trawler to reel him in. He zoomed upward at a dizzying rate, holding on to his weapon's chain for dear life.

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Slayer
Level 1
Day 1
Locations: Tetris Castle Conference Chamber / Tetris Castle Warp Chamber
@Dracolunaris @Loki Odinson @SuddenSardines @Argetlam350 @Hylozoist

Another round of speech cycled through the meeting hall. Slayer spotted the fishmaiden waving his way, so he responded with a polite semi-bow to her as well. Not long after, the mood of the room took a turn as Guile, evidently deciding to get down to brass tacks, ejected the rotund, loose-tongued Quina from the assembly. A moment later the creation followed the cook, and the unchallengeable crash of the doors being shut resounded through the premises. As he watched the American saunter back to his rightful place, Slayer idly wondered why Quina in particular warranted the trouble. To be sure, the creature did seem frustratingly insipid and unconcerned with the matter at hand, and therefore could be said to be providing negligible value to a gathering of heroes with heroic intent. Because of this, Slayer did not feel inclined to move a muscle in the simple cook's defense, but then again, few of those present were treating the matter with the seriousness it deserved.

Guile wasted no time in beginning his speech, and Slayer leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his fingers interleaved, to listen. The announcement that the organization that the soldier helped to represent couldn't offer much information on the adversary did not bother him too much. In many cases during his life, Slayer himself served as the vitally important information broker and hint giver to more heroically-inclined individuals he came across. Having less than a healthy awareness of the situation wasn't convenient, of course, but he only needed some time to observe in order to develop a pertinent understanding. He mulled over Guile's words about lone survivors and so forth, putting into perspective the first concrete details he'd received concerning the virulence of the nebulous Mugen Virus. A holographic alien appeared to drop a few details that Slayer logged away. A shot, eh? I don't believe one necessary, but I might as well. Solus's succinctness left him unprepared for the deluge of information that followed. He found himself forced to pay close attention indeed to the description, story, and other details about the Kingdom of Erion. ”Slay a demon and rescue a princess, is it? Ah, the very stuff of the old tales! Perhaps one day they'll tell tales of us.” When the report on Erion's items came up, he gave it his focus. If the virus was as deadly as he'd been lead to believe, no strategic advantage could be wasted.

Another bit of news that stood out to Slayer was his team assignment. In an unlucky turn, he knew the names of none of his teammates save Quina, who he'd determined to be the portly chef that Guile kicked out prior to the meeting's commencement. Though he sighed to consider that his group might have dead weight from the start, he did not consider the thought of completely discounting the cook. Slayer sensed something monstrous about the creature—that it had latent power that perhaps only needed some direction to be truly terrifying. He filed that idea away for later as he stood up from his seat to head to the elevator, through which he proceeded as instructed to the 49th floor. All of the standing and sitting around, coupled with a somewhat restrictive load of orders and advisement, starved his refined taste of material to observe or admire, but Slayer was nothing if not a patient man.

In due course he got his shot, though he was obliged to relax his muscles so that the needle could penetrate his skin. Having yet to meet up with his group, he concluded that they must be accumulating at the outgoing warp and made his way there at a dignified pace. He arrived to find an partly-clothed orange animal standing on its hind legs, a floating tribal mask, the dour man in black, the quiet man in white, and of course, Quina. Speaking on its own, the mask took the initiative to introduce itself and the bandicoot, revealing him to be the team leader. Slayer creased his brow; was this unintelligible, anthropomorphic animal really in charge? He tweaked his mustache before giving a wry smile. Everything about this situation was positively insane, so why not? Clearing his throat, the vamprie held a hand over his chest and bowed his head. ”Glad to make your acquaintance. I am Slayer, and I hope I shall be of use during our expedition.” He withdrew his pipe from a coat pocket with his raised hand and placed it in his mouth, waiting for his other assigned teammates to introduce themselves as well.

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

GO TEAM ONE!

Right, back to making food.

@Hylozoist

That is very cool. Thank you!

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

Mad World

@zarkun@lazo@kapuchu

Slowly, the spread of shining golden ichor across the ground grew dull, mixing with the ankle-deep pools littering the battlefield like an oil spill to produce a dimly shimmering sludge reminiscent of opal. In this liquid's surface, the brilliant glow of the Seal reflected, but it wasn't the only light. Little bursts of teal and what appeared to be rainbow speckled its surface as well. Souta, shedding his armor and ready to be relieved that the fight with the Creatrix had ended, furrowed his brows. As he brushed the last of his stony armor off his shoulders and head, revealing his flushed but otherwise normal skin beneath, he tilted his head straight back to look upward.

Once the brightness of the Seal ceased to dazzle him, he could make out something happening above. High above in the air around the Seal, two shapes danced back and forth. One, a blot of wispy darkness that chiefly discharged waves of emerald fire, he suspected was Panoptos. That could only mean that the winged, lustrous bronze figure that accompanied him was another enemy. From so far below, Souta couldn't discern any details, but traces of bright, cool blue around it reminded him of ice, and the rainbow light fired off in beams and explosive orbs invoked the splendid spectacle known as the aurora borealis. Souta wondered whether or not he and the other agents should be helping. If he were in better shape, and Panoptos hadn't been so abrasive during the entire time the smith had known him, Souta might have jumped to do his duty, but for now he merely settled for pointing the aerial battle out. ”Hey, look way up there. Our ol' buddy's fighting someone too.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a particularly large burst of prismatic energy exploded far above. Souta watched as Panoptos was blasted downward toward the group, cannoned downward by the force of a beam from his unknown assailant. The watcher drew closer and closer until he slammed into the ground, dissolving in a burst of black smoke. Souta, equals parts unconcerned by the bothersome geist's apparent demise and shocked by the power of what was certainly an enemy to be able to facilitate it, didn't know what to think. Regardless, Panoptos reformed from his figurative ashes only a moment later, glowing at the group. ”Finally done with the looney, are you all? In case you haven't noticed, I've been having a problem up there.” Despite the contempt in his tone, he gave every impression of sniggering. ”Heheh...well, joke's on him. I finished before he arrived, so he has to take me down before he can get at the Seal to stop the shift. Plenty of time for you layabouts to knock him down a peg or two, I should think.”

Souta wasn't paying him too much attention. Instead, his eyes lay upon the being floating downward toward the Agents at a steady pace. If he had to pick any one word to describe this mysterious threat, it would be 'bizarre'. Possessing a male physique molded out of what appeared to be burnished copper, he possessed a rather demonic set of horns and tail as well as a pair of black wings. Lines and loci of icy-blue power festooned his form. This being gave no indication that he was going to attack—in fact, despite being a part of what Souta could only assume to be a fierce battle, he looked completely at ease. Light as a feather, he landed, careful to place his talon-sporting blue feet on dry ground. Eerily calm, and wearing a curious look he stared at the group.

”So, you are this watcher's allies? I am not unimpressed to see you up close. A caught a glimpse whilst you fought the poor soul, this realm's Deposed Creatrix. Good work. It is a sorry task to put a rabid beast out of its misery. You must understand, I am not here to fight you.” He tilted his head to the side and slightly back, holding his hands close to his neck with his fingers splayed in an odd pose. His tail curled and uncurled like a cat's, its every swing leaving behind a split-second misty trail. ”Allow me to introduce myself. I am...Aeon! A spirit of preservation wholeheartedly dedicated to the pursuit of a perfect, unchanging world, beautiful as a rainbow on a rainy day and as permanent as the polar chill. I was here to secure the Seal, for my mission would be undone if Hell's plot to bring Armageddon succeeds.”

A sour laugh burst from Panoptos. ”I'll bet! Why then, my flamboyant friend, did you assault a servant of the Charred Council? What reason could you possibly have to convince me to not sic my pets on your shiny hide this instant?”

Breathing a sigh, Aeon shrugged. When he spoke, he talked past the watcher, addressing the Agents directly. ”Pets? He doesn't even try to hide that he is manipulating you. His stone-faced bosses are a little better, but all the same, can you not see you are being played for fools?” He clasped over his chest. ”I got a little rough with shady here because having the Seals in the Council's possession is no better than having them in demons'. Had you any awareness of the Council's actions taken to enforce their authority over the eons, you would be as wary as I.”

The sneer of Panoptos turned into a vicious bark. ”Enough! No more sweet-talk! These warriors are here because they know they're doing the right thing for all of creation! We're the ones doing the hard work to save it, not letting someone else do the work and then jumping in to steal the show. Could you be act any more like the typical villain?” Around his fist, a torrent of ash swirled. Far removed from his typical holier-than-thou attitude, the watcher seemed defensive.

A heartbroken look entered Aeon's face. He frowned and took a step back. ”Alas. If you all have gotten this far, though, it means you truly think you are fighting for what is right. I hope when we meet again you will have seen the truth of my words. In the spirit of understanding, I will leave this seal to the Council for now. Farewell.” Barely had the word left Aeon's mouth than he vanished in a shimmer of multicolored light, like a mirage.

Panoptos killed his magic, then crossed his arms. ”So what if I don't give you all enough credit? You know what you've accomplished. I know you're too smart to be taken in by that...that saboteur. Come now, the demons will be here any minute.” The golden light flooding Wit's End blinked off and then on again, causing Souta to glance up. Seeing this the watcher said, ”It'll be in the Council's private space in just a few moments. We'll be warped along with it, then I'll patch us through to the Citadel.”

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Slayer
Level 1
Day 1
Locations: Tetris Castle Conference Chamber
@Hostile @SuddenSardines @Bright_Ops @Dracolunaris @Lmpkio @Toadropes@Zarkun

Not a soul echoed his greeting, but Slayer did not mind. His idea of pleasantries was, no doubt, outdated and unnecessary. With any luck, this venture would provide him an opportunity to take to heart the new normals that defined this young people's world. For want of anything else to do while he waited for the meeting to begin, Slayer kept a sharp eye out. Now that the assembly of heroes gathered in closer proximity, he could begin to more keenly size up each one. A bespectacled man sporting a neatly-trimmed beard and eye-catching orange accents on his armor gave him a nod of acknowledgment. Pleased to be noticed and indulged with his fellow man's good manners, he returned the gesture. Other than his clothing, the fellow seemed remarkably ordinary. If hero he was, Slayer decided, then he was the Everyman, with whom everyone could relate and identify. Of course, the vampire had little to base this conclusion in, but Freeman's face and manner struck him as essentially personable nonetheless.

Having moved on, Slayer next settled his eyes on an odd pair. The green-clad plumber he'd seen earlier, whose rather odd proportions, unassuming manner, and respectable yet subdued mustache pegged him as someone following in someone else's footsteps. Naturally, Slayer factored in the more grandiose appearance and attitude of the one called Mario into this guess—perhaps the pair were related? No, he was sure of it. One did not live as long as he and fail to develop an eye for patterns. Plus, now that he'd heard the man's name to be Luigi, the parallel between the names was the nail in the coffin. Seated beside the plumber was a woman in functional-looking armor with extravagant green hair. ”Hm.” He inclined his head slightly, as if admiring a piece of art. While he freely admitted that she was easy on the eyes, Slayer couldn't rightfully call her beautiful with the face of an exceptional, exquisite, and eternal beauty fresh on his mind. For the first time, he regretted that his invitation hadn't allowed his wife to come along. They did travel together so often, after all, and he treasured her company.

At about this time, the aquatic female who'd he'd heard introduce herself as Naija ask what makes someone a hero. As far as Slayer could tell, the question was not addressed to him, and since a gentleman did not impose himself on someone else's conversations, he remained silent. When nobody else immediately answered, the vampire turned his attention elsewhere. He spotted a little girl with a serious look as she entered the room. Almost instantly, he recognized a gem of maturity in her, evident in the deliberateness in which she moved alone. When she seated herself and began to speak, the very traditional delivery of her words confirmed what he'd intuited. Hapu, is it? He did not interrupt her, but made sure to offer a polite nod of his head when she happened to glance his way. In doing do he echoed the nod he'd been given moments prior. What goes around comes around, after all.

Luigi took it upon himself to seek clarification for Naija's question, which left Slayer a tad disappointed. He'd been interested in getting to know the others better. He got his wish, thought, when the plumber introduced the woman next to him as Samus. Well, it's a start.

A moment later, someone else seated himself beside Slayer—the first to do so. He took the excuse to turn and face the person so as to better observe him. His dark, almost morbid clothing, combined with a hair-raising odor that surrounded him, gave the Hunter a grim air. A no-nonsense nod came Slayer's way, and he returned the gesture immediately. This man, he felt, was someone who could get the job done. He did wonder if the Hunter would reply to the question at large, though, for Slayer wondered how someone who wouldn't have been out of place at a graveyard qualified as a hero. Alas, the man kept the silence. No matter. Slayer returned his attention to the amphibian as she began to speak.

The somewhat diminutive fishmaiden responded as best she could to her own philosophical question, turned back upon her by Samus. Slayer ruminated on her response. Did one's attitude truly make someone a hero? Did being labeled as such by others do it? Was it because of someone's motives? Or was it a function of what one's actions brought about? When he compared them to his own definition, molded from countless years' experience, he decided that each possibility contained some truth. He pondered how much of what both he and Naija thought of heroism applied to him. After a moment, the corner of his mouth rose in a slight smile. All the same, he would not offer his opinions unless asked.

Another warrior with the semblance of a soldier arrived and placed himself next to Samus. Clearly, bounty hunter was mulling over Naija's response. Most of the room's occupants remained as quiet as Slayer himself, most likely waiting just as he did for the meeting to officially commence. Another of the more recent arrivals, Hapu, weighed on on the subject. Slayer found himself rejecting what she suggested as the quintessential constant of heroism. After all, if the desire to do the right thing was the cornerstone, why was he here? To phrase his stance simply, something on someone's insides did not a hero make. He felt obliged to offer his thoughts as a form of help, but he wanted to make sure they wouldn't fall on deaf ears first.

Pokemon: New World

@zarkun @lugubrious @luckyblackcat

Just checking in to standardize the sunset bonus: it's a bonus three points that will be tacked on *excluding* all other point additions. Case in point: The sunrise bonus for Shanae went like:

TP: 37 +1(post) +1(HHG) +3(sunrise) = 42

So it's 1 for posting and then 3 for the bonus. Brownie point if you're in a (my) organization ;)

Lugubrious I noticed that you didn't write in any bonuses -- did you miss it or by chance forget? Either way, here's your little reminder :)

(this is because I almost forgot myself xD)

@Dusksong

I just didn't want to jump to any conclusions if I wasn't sure, heh. Thanks for the reminder.

Pokemon: New World

To say that Olivie was crabby would be to make a gross understatement. A ghastly, permanent scowl, by now etched into her features, caused wild Pokemon that wandered to close to turn tail and look elsewhere. Even Bernard, who should for all intents and purposes be familiar with his rival's anger at this point, shied away from her fearsome grimace and walked behind her instead. All the same, he flinched whenever she felt the need to vent. A pretty splash of pink and orange across the horizon failed to pacify the brunette; if anything, it worsened her temper. Out of the blue, she exploded once again. ”Are. You. Kiddin' me!? Ten hours of walking!? I can feel the blisters! My legs are killing me! I wanna fall down and die already. If this place doesn't have a five-star hotel with free therapy I swear I'm gonna knock the lights outta someone!”

She did have a point. The journey on foot hadn't been even passingly nice. Sure, the landscape seemed alright, but the monotony of it all coupled with the steadily-intensifying pain and fatigue every minute meant that both trainers weren't averse to the idea of pitching themselves into the first comfortable-looking ditch they saw. Even the sight of Stillwater itself failed to rouse them from their misery. As she traversed the hilly marsh that lay as the final obstacle in the day's trip, and could catch a glimpse of the town's buildings, Olivie became increasingly aware that she'd be lucky to get a hotel at all. A few minutes later, the sore-footed, muddy-shoed, exhausted pair stepped into the town of Stillwater.

The first building they came to had a large but cheap neon sign hanging from the porch, and it instantly confirmed two things: that the place wasn't such a backwater that it had no electricity, and that it did have a Pokemon Center. The sound of rushing water became apparent, and in the fading daylight the trainers could see a sizeable river running behind the Center. On its other side, Olivie saw an open-air facility much like the one she was poised to enter, which she dully guessed might be the Stillwater Poke-mart. Feeling like a thoroughly-walloped punching bag, Olivie plodded inside. Behind the counter was a grizzled, gray-bearded man with fishhooks in his dome-shaped cap. In less than a second, the old-timer sized up both Olivie and Bernard, determining them both to be terribly tired trainers. He gave a amicable, gap-toothed smile. “Howdy! I won't beat 'round the bush none, you two look rougher than a washed-up Wimpod. Go 'head and find yerselves a room. They aint big, but they're cozy. We'll talk 'bout payment some other time. Hope ya like yer time in Stillwater!”

Extraordinarily willing to forgo conversation for the chance to faceplant into a bed, Olivie managed to flash the guy a grateful smile before lurched past him for the aisle of apartments that he'd indicated with a tilt of his head. She slammed open the first door that opened, kicked off her shoes, flung away her sweater-skirt, and leaped into the mattress. It felt suspiciously like straw, but to a ragged trainer it made no difference. With the last of her energy, Olivie opened her Pokeballs. Buck, Gespenst, Verrine, and the unnamed Nidoran appeared. ”'Ey, close the door,” she mumbled, too pooped to care if anyone had seen her in just her undershirt and leggings. ”Explore if ya like, or go to sleep. I'm goin'...” And just like that, she slipped away. Outside, the sun disappeared, leaving only a lingering light at the edge of the world. Here, far away from the cities, the night sky was incredible to behold, but only slumber surrounded Olivie now.

This time, though, she dreamed and dreamed vividly. Almost as if waiting for her to fall asleep, they leaped upon her. Before long, the girl was tossing and turning, but the dreams did not relent.

The Benevolent Beauty Turned Boisterous Bruiser

Current Location: Stillwater
TP: 38 + 1 = 39
CP: 17+ 1 = 18

Pokemon:
Buck the Bidoof – lvl 3 – healthy
Gespenst the Cacnea – lvl 4 – healthy
Verrine the Karrablast – lvl 4 – healthy
Nidoran♂ - lvl 2 - healthy

Pokemon: New World

@Lugubrious Yeah, the timeline got a bit screwed up there. I could edit the post if you want.

@LuckyBlackCat

Yes, please. I was going to, but I don't know if I'm in a place where Olivie should be interacting with your character any more.

Pokemon: New World

Wait, I completely forgot! Is it sunset?

Edit: Did my sunset post for Cici, will edit Ella's stats.

@LuckyBlackCat

That's very confusing. My character is only in Feyhollow in the morning. If Cici is still in Feyhollow at sunset, Olivie is long gone. How did you get to sunset, anyway? If you're interacting with Olivie, there's at least a twelve-hour gap between when Cici asks Olivie a question and Cici leaves to go back into the forest.