Lugubrious

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

[color-007fff]Abel Fulgurate – Race Grounds[/color

We're here!

Abel froze, and the crepe halfway into his mouth slid off the fork to dangle from between his teeth like a huge, sagging dog tongue while he read the words on his scroll once more to confirm them. He wasted no time slurping it down to make sure he made as little of a fool of himself as possible, then picked himself up from the folding chair where he'd parked himself to depart hastily. By now, a fair few people had turned up in anticipating of the grand day off's first event. He'd been looking forward to sampling the free food and seeing what people trickled in with their families. If any single characteristic united Beacon's freshest crop of hunters-to-be, it was that they were an interesting bunch. Their mothers, fathers, and other family members could only be more so, but some sadness had needled the guardian as he realized that quite a few of the students might be going around the day alone. Now, he mused, he'd been looking forward to the whole ordeal a bit too much, and in doing so nearly forgot about an arguably quintessential element of Parents' Day: the parents.

With as much hustle as a big guy could muster, Abel hightailed it out of the racing ground and into the school. A dozen or more eye-catching sights confronted him along the way, but as Abel saw it, he could wait to join in the general mood of the day once he'd reunited with his mother and father, who judging by Abel's new message had just arrived via the sky. Remembering the distress that had plagued him the day he arrived at the academy following his first-ever air travel, he wondered how his parents had fared. The fact that they weren't too airsick or overwhelmed to make use of the modern age's newfangled doodad suggested they were fine, at least. In only a few minute's time Abel burst from the academy's front doors to jog toward the airdock.

The ship by which Abel's mom and dad came was easy to spot, but they themselves weren't that much harder. One look at the guardian's parents explained his unusual height and size. Edom Fulgurate was, to put it simply, a mountain of a man. A barrel chest, broad shoulders, bulging muscles, and a rather rectangular head all made for a hell of a stature. By now, at the end of his growing years, Abel stood a remarkably 6'6”, but his father still towered two inches higher than he. Of course, Abel couldn't discount his mother. The blonde-haired woman, her smile indicating that she'd spotted Abel as well, stood about as tall as her son. If Edom were a mountain, Flavia was a tree, her yellow crown hanging down in a curtain around her slender, lithe frame. Abel's dad tracked her gaze, and developed a craggy grin as well when he laid eyes on him. “My boy! C'mere!” The three collided in an enormous hug that made Abel realize, as unbelievable as it seemed that only two and a half weeks had passed since the semester began, he missed them greatly. A surge of joy rushed through him to stand with his family once again.

A moment later, the guardians broke apart to stand in a close ring. At the same time, Edom and Flavia crossed their arms, and the latter began to speak. “It's so nice to see you again!” she beamed. “Wearin' the jacket your old mom got for you, too!”

Edom chimed in too, his deep voice rumbling like a landslide but full of enthusiasm. “So this is the place, huh? Real fancy, sittin' up on a cliff. What're those lights up in the tower?”

Abel released a noise somewhere between an embarrassed grunt and a chuckle. He didn't know who to respond to, so he went in order. “Yeah, thanks. I wear it almost everywhere, actually. You better not tell anyone that my mom got it for me...and I dunno what the lights are. There's really cool at night. Uh, how was the flight?”

A shudder issued from Abel's mom that he felt might have been a bit exaggerated. “Oh, my goodness. When we first started risin' up off the ground, I thought I was gonna have a heart attack.”

“Drama queen!” Edom nudged his wife jokingly before turning back to Abel. “Heh, I was a little rocky myself at first. Once we got underway, we were fine. And the view! Just like lookin' at a map.” He clapped his hands together. “So! We just gonna stand here by the docks like a bunch of bumpkins? Show us around. Or, more to the point, show us to the eatery. Ships stopped servin' peanuts last quarter, apparently.”

Charged with his duty, Abel spun around to lead his folks into Beacon

-=-=-

A few minutes later, the blue-wearing spearman appeared at the racing grounds, this time with his parents in tow. No historical buff or trivia enthusiast, he hadn't taken the time to offer tidbits about every little facet of the facility they came across, but the trip took longer than his last one anyway. By now, quite a few were assembled; Abel got the impression that the event would begin in only a few minutes. Luckily, that left plenty of time for crepes and Shiny D. After visiting the food tables, the Fulgurates found a spot at the back of the seating area to situate themselves.

Pokemon: New World

@Dusksong what kind of towns and pokemon can we start with?

@Masterkeun

I can help with that. You can start in any town listed, and you can have an unevolved pokemon with a type that is included in the area's types. For instance, if you picked Central City, you could start out with a fire, water, grass, normal etc. type, but if you started in Feyhollow you could begin with a fairy type, for instance.

You'll be able to find all locations in the OOC OP. If you want to start somewhere with other players with which you character can interact, check the IC. Most post have location tags in them.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

I am not occupied by anything.

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

As cathartic as it was, the relentless beating did not last for long. Even in the middle working out his issues, Souta could not mentally justify ruining what could be a perfectly good piece of metal, and he proceeded to the next stage of reclamation. Using a handy chisel, he went to work evening out the sword blade's edges to get them more regular. It was a rough job, but at this stage, all that was required. Next came confirmation. At this point, an ordinary smith would have plunged the newly-shaped, red-hot metal into a bucket of water to cool it, but the odds of finding a reservoir in this place didn't seem good even if he felt like barging through the corridors with a hunk of glowing slag in his mitt. Souta came prepared for this eventuality, however, and instead solidified the trimmed sword using a torrent of water. Steam hissed violently, and the man paused for a moment while the metal cooled off to observe the effect of sweltering air meeting the watery glow of his hoodie's pattern. Another few seconds later and he put the visually engaging distraction behind him. He set his sights on the only other motorized tool currently available in the forge: a grind wheel. Memories of a grindstone's characteristic skull-rattling sound and spray of sparks made him almost eager to put the machine to use.

He almost succeeded in turning it on, too, but at that moment an unannounced guest made herself known. In a manner both bemusing and frustrating, in fact, she revealed per presence via criticism, though from her voice the smith did not get the impression that this unknown person was being serious. Surprised at the intrusion, Souta turned to look, and the sight of the person before him made his eyebrows shoot up and his lids open wide. In the space of an instant, however, his look of pure interest turned into skepticism. Before him stood a woman both exceptionally beautiful and tantalizingly sexy, with features as drop-dead gorgeous as her figure.

Souta didn't buy it for a second.

The odds of such a woman existing in the first place did not inspire much confidence in him, but one coming in here and talking to him, of all people? Starting in middle school, Souta had learned that whenever any half decent-looking girl came up to him, it was invariably a deception—a mean-spirited prank, either on the girl's part of her friends, hidden behind a corner nearby to watch the poor, awkward boy go googly-eyed, thanking his lucky stars. They, and those that came after them throughout high school and beyond, felt the need to test-drive their charms on hapless guys like him, making sport of desperate dudes' desires. They were no better than bullies, and when Souta looked at Mary, he could not help but feel echoes of the past. He wouldn't be anyone's sucker. Either this babe was some illusion conjured by a watcher or that kooky old goat Akoni, or she was some kind of shapeshifter or succubus. During his time at Gilgamesh, Souta hadn't been given the privilege of dealing with a succubus, but some of his friends had, and he always liked to hear their stories. The succubus, possessed by an unflappable confidence matched with inflated ego, attempt to toy with her 'victims', only to soon realize that Gilgamesh Inc didn't train idiots. Occasionally, the troops would even pretend to be taken in by their charms, only to turn it in their faces. Stories like those gave Souta some reason to believe that humans were stronger, smarter, and more special than many might realize, but they wouldn't do him much good now. Faced with this exquisite, unbelievable beauty, Souta simply decided not to believe.

He tore himself away, turning back to the grind wheel, and attempted to put her image out of his mind. After a moment, he replied in a flat tone, ”If you have any constructive criticism, I'm all ears.” Contrary to this statement, however, he switched on the grinder, which immediately belted out a deep mechanical roar and gave no signs of stopping. He pressed the blade's uneven, hodgepodge edge against the wheel, and sparks began to fly as the tool began to smooth the sword. Almost immediately, a few sparks flew into Souta's face and burned his flesh like miniature lances. He grit his teeth and grumbled, increasing his water aura to block out the spikes. If not for the newly-arrived distraction -and her two large distractions in particular- he might have remembered to grab something to use as an impromptu welding mask. Still, he was determined not to let this whoever-it-was play him for a fool.

Pokemon: New World

In the same instant, both Bisharp and Malamar lunged forward to attack. By an imperceptible fraction, the wild pokemon proved itself to be faster, and it lashed its foe with a tentacle shrouded in darkness. Bernard shouted a command into the mayhem, but Painkiller retaliated so quickly that Olivie wondered if he heeded his trainer's call at all. Without any regard to the Night Slash that put a slight dent into the side of his helmet-shaped head, Painkiller let loose a metallic screech and launched shards of metal from his bladed ribs into the Malamar, dealing back 150% of the pain delivered to him. After this brief but furious exchange, Gespenst chimed in as best he could, shelling the wild pokemon with an Energy Ball. Just like that, the next flurry began, but this time Painkiller took the initiative. His arm shot forward like a bullet, delivering a steely punch straight to the Malamar's head. Though clearly in pain from the move, the Overturning pokemon's beak was twisted into a smirk, and Olivie felt as though it had a devious plan in store. A vortex of purple and black power surrounded it before coalescing into blades just like Painkiller's, then striking. Bernard muttered darkly under his breath, knowing that Foul Play would turn Painkiller's monstrous attacking ability against him in a hurry.

If he was doubtful, Olivie knew, then the situation must be dire—though what else was new? Time to switch gears. “Sleep Powder!” she called, and Gespenst obeyed. The Cacnea swelled before releasing a blast of glittering dust from his flower crown. It splattered against the Malamar, and for a moment Olivie seized up, thinking that it hadn't taken any effect, but a second later its eyelids began to slip. It could barely keep itself awake. Given ample opportunity, Painkiller readied his blade. Ruthlessly he brought his head crashing down on the Malamar, slicing into its rubbery skin with his blade, and the wild pokemon toppled over. A black liquid oozed from its egregious wound, and its lights had grown dim, but its writhing revealed that it was still alive.

Bernard heaved a sigh of relief. ”Whoa...talk about a close encounter.” He shook his head. ”If it knew Superpower, we would have been done for. Nice Sleep Powder.” Olivie gave him, and then Gespenst, a self-assured smile. They hadn't been useless after all. However, something black and hateful stirred nearby. Movement at the edge of her vision returned her attention to the Malamar, which had risen into the air. Its eyes burned, and red energy steamed from its flesh. While it couldn't be said to have muscles like a human's, they nevertheless bunched up. Bernard took a step back, aghast. ”T-t-that's Superpower! It must have understood me! That's crazy, no wild pokemon should be able to...!”

While his trainer babbled, Painkiller jumped to action. He threw himself headlong at the Malamar, his bladed head gleaming. Again, the Overturning pokemon was faster. It span as if performing a lariat, and its swollen tentacles slammed into the Bisharp with great force. The sound of rending metal split the air, and Painkiller flew backward. When the dust cleared, Olivie saw a massive cleft in his left side, and that his left arm was hanging on only by a thin ribbon of steel. The sight told her everything she needed to know. ”Run!” she bellowed, the word bursting from her lungs. Hesitating only to snatch up Gespenst, she beat a hasty retreat, with Bernard right behind. Painkiller, on his back as the Malamar loomed over him with murder in its eyes, vanished back into his pokeball. They sprinted back toward town.

-=Pokemon Center=-

The old man's eyes widened in disbelief at Ella's words. “Malamar?” he said, the question punctuated by a definite tone of alarm. “Ya don't mean Ole Nasty, do ya? By Giratina, what're the odds...don't tell me ya made 'er mad. She don't have anythin' to do with the nightmares, she keeps to 'erself unless someone crosses 'er. She's downright brutal in a fight, but she's also got...friends. Last folks that troubled 'er escaped, came back into town, and vanished the followin' night. I didn't warn ya 'cause I thought...she hardly never 'pears 'bove ground, durin' the day no less.”[/color] He rubbed his head, his expression one of great worry.

The Benevolent Beauty Turned Boisterous Bruiser

Current Location: Stillwater Shore
TP: 43 + 1 = 44
CP: 22+ 1 = 23

Be Advised:
@Dusksong
@LuckyBlackCat

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

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Minutes stretched into hours, drifting by while Elliot tried to lose himself in another world. His morose mood affected his focus, preventing him from doing particularly well, but it wasn't the only reason why in the end he saved his game, shut the system off, and lay on his bed to stare at the ceiling. The matter of Collin weighed too heavily on his mind to allow any sort of relaxation and alleviation. Even the absolute confidence that the horrific injury had not been his fault failed to set him at ease. There was nothing he could have done, after all, to prevent the fearsome interloper from appearing when he did, executing his brutality on the Ward, and then vanishing. With pronounced clarity he remember the feeling of his submachine gun appearing in his hand as he readied it fast as he could, but he was physically unable to intervene. Perhaps one of his teammates could with one of their powers, but Elliot mused that if they could, they would have. None of them could be rightfully blamed. If it had happened to him, Elliot reasoned, his teammates would have been just as blameless. All these thoughts filtered through his head, but Elliot felt no better.

Elliot did not relish seeing his teammates again, but anything would do to distract him from the nothingness in his room that threatened to smother him. When the time to meet with them drew near, he considered it a mercy, and picked himself up to leave. He left his usual overcoat behind, though he knew that without it he looked ordinary beyond measure, and took leave of his usual bravado to boot. He did not feel as if he could muster the energy to assume his usual persona, and in addition, doing so would be sure to provoke the remaining Wards. Hands in his pockets, Elliot traipsed through the halls to the meeting room.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

Alright, thank you all for the responses. I am planning to start the race soon.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Would the next order of business be to write for the Wards heading to the scheduled meeting?

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

For reference, is anyone planning on having their character attend the race or the wrestling tournament?

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

Fleo Plector

@Roseletta@Joshua Tamashii

Pleased to be remembered and held in high regard, Fleo felt her anxiety slipping away. When Amaya pointed Joshua out, he suddenly seemed obvious. Of course, Fleo had seen her guildmate before, most often in the guild hall in Magnolia. Seldom had they spoken, though. Having recognized him, Fleo executed a polite nod of acknowledgment. Amaya's ensuing point about Nolan struck her; until now, she hadn't given much thought to the reason why Nolan seldom spent time with any of them anymore, but her counterpart hit the nail on the head. Ever since the Ash God Slayer put his face into the public sphere, he'd been surrounded by more attention than he could possibly want. Plus, Fleo remembered seeing the younger wizard with Ariel. A twinge of sourness came to her face. ”Heh. So much for being scared of women. Guess he was just saving himself for 'the one'.” Well, no matter. Since her early years, Fleo had never been the trendiest of girls, so now that Nolan was a fad, she could put him behind her.

From the sky, the epitome of charming came soaring in. A purple cat in a tiny tuxedo made for an uncommonly, irrestisably adorable sight, and Fleo couldn't help but crack a wide smile at him. ”Hi, Dalton! I'm doing much better now that you're here. You're the cutest thing alive!” She reached out her arms as an invitation to hold him, so that she might give the little creature a big hug.

Joakim Fortinbras

@The Wild West@Raijinslayer

A good story was one that the listeners could get lost in, and as Flint began his tale, the ballroom seemed to fall away for Joakim. His appreciation for stories could be seen in his face and his bearing. For a while, in fact, he didn't realize that his legs were growing stuff. Instead, he absorbed every detail of the story, thinking to himself more than once that it would make for a classic novella, or one of his family's old folk tales. He paid rapt attention to the exploits of the bounty hunter, all throughout the rising action and the introduction of Bill Carson. Hints of exaggeration could be found in Flint's recollection, but as it did for any good yarn, they improved the experience. Perhaps, Joakim mused, they were even true. Who was he, an emissary of the frozen north, to make judgments about how things went down in Fiore's western wilderness? The account of Carson's cruelty and Flint's near-death experience gripped him. All too soon, the story ended, but with its cliffhanger came a request that Joakim was only too happy to oblige. ”Yes, of course. I'll go and find something, or we can go together. I believe there's a little cocktail bar on the other side of the room.” He glanced at Argus, who until now had remained silent. ”Can I get you anything?”

Jane Putcher

@Caits@Burthstone@Silver Fox

The observation that Gabriel was standing up for himself ignited some pride in Jane's heart. So long as he recognized danger and refused to allow himself to be played for the fool, she felt, he would be alright. All the same, she didn't doubt that her intervention had been necessary. This conclusion only grew stronger when the repugnant shapeshifter, after confirming Jane's suspicions, changed his countenance and manner entirely to talk to Mayt. In an instant, it was as if Karn had become a completely different person. Lecherous, manipulative, and obnoxious one moment, cheery and innocent the next—Jane suspected that it was Karn's guildmates who had been the most deceived of all. Indeed, Mayt barely reacted to the cannoneer's hostility at all, instead blindly putting his faith in Karn. What a joke.

The two continued to talk, and Jane was only to happy to claim victory and turn her back on them, motioning for Gabriel to listen. A few parting words from Mayt before he left with Karn had laid to rest her last suspicions. ”D'ye spy that? The instant that fellow appeared, on goes the mask o' innocence. Thar be a two-face if I've ever seen one! And did ye 'ear 'im? The lass that almost picked ye up was a 'he' all along. Mark me, lad. The world's full o' pathetic scalleywags. Some don't 'ave talent, discipline, wealth, fame, friends, or dreams—just their bodies and their tongues. Some get along by sellin' themselves, others pull the wool o'er the eyes of good folks and hornswagglin' 'em. Idiots 'n bullies is all they be.”

She straightened up, adjusting her hair. ”But it sounded like ye know what yer doin'. I bet ye knew all this already. Until we sail again, me bucko.” With that, Jane left him, sure that he could take care of himself for the rest of the night. Her bitterness vaporized the moment that ordeal was behind her, and she made to rejoin the festivities with a smile on her face.