Lugubrious

The Crucible - Winner Take All

I haven't suggested that any of that was your fault, @Lugubrious. I was just making a point about my own mindset at that moment, and I don't think we need to be aggressive with one another over it. That said, you are perhaps right that leaving would be a bit selfish, and I've found myself some renewed willpower to keep pressing on anyway, so feel free to ignore my prior post.

@BCTheEntity

fig

Sometimes a little aggression is what it takes. I like your moxie, soldier. I'll look forward to your writing.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

@Lugubrious So, unfortunately, I feel like I have to drop out of this game. I've kind of been forcing myself to post in the games I'm in lately, for both personal and game-related reasons, and I'm burning myself out as a result. That affects this game in particular, because the quality and volume of writing it demands is quite high; this is a good thing, of course, but my more recent posts in it have ended up being pretty sub-standard compared to what I feel is my usual ability to write, which then ends up being that much further below the necessary writing standards you and the players are presumably looking forward to reading.

Furthermore, and considering the PvP nature of the game, it doesn't seem fair to ProPro to potentially beat him in this round, only to quit shortly afterward for lack of motivation when he seems to be one of the more dedicated players available to you. Having said all that, I deeply apologise for any disruption this causes; if no other players present themselves as replacements, I might suggest that Runch could face off against Motley as an NPC, just so that any interesting tactics Pro has come up with to fight Crue aren't wasted.

@BCTheEntity

That's your fault. The only 'demands' I've set in place regard the combat system, and submitting a post once every two weeks. Take a look at the average length of Banana's posts and tell me again how much I've been pushing you. You had the option to speed into PVP with Propro from the beginning, but you yourself opted for a series of posts with your character wandering around. If I didn't know better I'd think that you set yourself up for this.

There will be no more admission of new players. If you quit, Motley becomes an NPC to be trampled. Hash out any remaining details with him as you please.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

As attentive as could be, Elliot parsed all the incoming information. Participating in the interrogation himself hadn't been something he bargained on, but it took but a few seconds for an idea to pop into his head concerning how to contribute. His powers did not permit him an easy read of an enemy's knowledge or abilities, but in terms of persuasion, he envisioned a cunning use. The scheme appealed to him on all levels—clever, simple, and morally gray. Doing what must be done, no matter the cost, suited an antihero to a T. For the moment, Elliot just watched. As much as he loved the works of a certain H.P. Lovecraft, this metahuman appeared less 'cosmic horror' and more 'deranged pervert'. The sentences that dribbled out of its mouth were the most banal chatroom cliches, the very stuff of little Zoey's first fan-fiction, and they irritated Elliot enough to banish all lingering reservations he held for enacting his plan.

The other wards, of course, didn't wait for him to have his say. Tulpa's suggestion worked well enough with his own, and while she chimed in with her request for a restraint, Elliot moved over to a nearby desk. He laid his hand on the chair and held firm, his power rushing through. In a mere moment, the life-size piece of furniture was a minuscule model in the palm of his hand, only a few centimeters tall. With it, he returned to his alleged allies, and remarked, “I shall partake as well. Charisma and perception may very well be the spheres of these others, but my endeavor will be applying the pressure necessary to extract answers to whatever my compeers inquire.”

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Judgment day number 2 has arrived, and we've done significantly better than the first go around. I'm really glad to see that! @BCTheEntity is missing an update for Messiah in the Wards, and @Lugubrious with Margrave also of the Wards. As before, you have 5 more days, and if there's any extenuating circumstances then please let me know and we can work together on it.

@ProPro

After a 14-hour night train, I have arrived in Italy, and should be able to manage a post within the next two days

Konosuba: This Wonderful World's Alternative Paradigm

𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓵

@Dead Cruiser @Bishop @DracoLunaris @Lunarlors34 @Heckno12 @Skepic @Zelosse

A symbol bloomed in the air that, according to Xiang, signified the Adventurers Guild to which this merry bunch of bozos would be headed in hopes of finding work. The sight of it solidified the urge in Quarel's mind, and he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment both to the succubus and to himself. Even if this road didn't look promising, he'd give it a try. He watched the others grab their gift as well, some with about the same lack of reservation as he, and almost smiled to himself. One, a young female human with a spellcaster's air about her, seemed both quiet and contemplative. Those, in combination with a disdain for the rather foolish notion of playing the selfless hero, made for a decent impression in his eyes. After all, a real goody two-shoes would refuse the generous offering, determined to live off his or her heroic determination, perhaps.

From the underbrush sprang a small green creature who, Quarel was able to discern with glittering eyes also appeared to be a scantily-clad female, nabbed an indiscriminate amount of money from the bag and sprinted off. He wondered why Yuji just let that happen; could it really be that she had an innocent, generous spirit? Of course, the goblin offered to pay her back, but Quarel assumed it to be less of a grateful guarantee and more of a ploy to throw off pursuit, and obviously it didn't factor into the centaur's decision anyway.

Ploosh

Quarel snickered, his expression hidden by the feathers that made his mouth imperceptible. Good luck with that. With Rita out of the area, the strigiforme happened to lay eyes on a fellow feathered person a few feet away, who stood apart from the crowd with her new wealth just as he didd. His brow-tufts furrowed. “Hmm.” A human with a bird tail and wings on her hips? How odd. It seemed terribly unlikely that such a bizarre physiology could ever achieve the lift and stability necessary for flight. Of course, Quarel wasn't one to talk, coming from a species of flightless birds himself. The reminder turned his gaze sour.

The bandit's bitterness fell to the wayside, however, as a warty head breached the surface of the nearby lake. He scrutinized the beast as it rose, noting that it appeared to be a Giant Toad. Then again, it didn't seem quite 'giant' enough...maybe 'Large Toad' suited it better. He could not help but recall the fact that strigiformes such as he ate frogs on occasion, but this mottled monster looked pretty inedible. “Shame,” he muttered aloud. “Could feed a brood for a week or two if it didn't spoil.” Xiang's comment made him wonder if these fetid freaks had the audacity to think of him, a being by all rights higher in the food chain, as potential prey. Some appeared to be heading in the direction Daveon went. Noting the silence, Quarel craned his neck to look around, and to his surprise nobody seemed to be in a hurry to do anything. One -the prissy-looking girl he, having been at the back of the group, had seen run into a doorframe- looked eager for a little violence, but nobody else had so much as moved. In fact, everyone seemed more or less unhappy and unmotivated.

Something clicked in Quarel's mind, prompting him to sigh. A plan came to mind, and with a flourish he drew his knives. Their alloy surfaces sparkled in the morning light, and without delay the bandit struck them together.

CLANG! CLANG!

“Alright, losers!” he hollered. “Looks like we've got some amphibious asshats who feel like makin' this crappy morning even crappier. Things might not look bright in the long run, but we're in this together, so let's let off a little steam and dice this pond scum up. Let's show 'em what we can do, come on!” Of course, words were seldom enough, but Quarel came prepared to make a spectacle. His legs tenses, and the next instant he sprinted forward before leaping into the air. Light weight and developed muscles made for a serious jump, and with pretty good precision Quarel soared through the air. Inverting his blades, he dove down toward the toad by the pier, aiming to land on it and buy his blades in its eyes.

In the back of his head, he knew the stunt was stupid and would probably end with him in the water, but if it got the others moving he was doing his job.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Knight Sylvestre

Location: the Neighborhood
@GreenGoat

Of all the responses to his calm yet provoking question, a smile had not been one of them. Still, the odd expression answered the second, unspoken inquiry Cyril harbored: what kind of person was this well-built woman? His conclusion: that something was off about her, though really he shouldn't have been surprised. Her ensuing behavior told him all he needed. As she approached, he reflexively lowered his weapon so that its tip pointed at her guts, and shifted his grip to both hands, but he did not attack. To be sure, he considered it, but the way she practically strutted forward invited him to think twice. She's kooky but not insane. Trying to goad me into a preemptive strike. With no arms...er, that, is, no weapons and one arm, she must be a martial artist or sorceress.

The vanguard let his warning stand, saying, “No need to prevaricate. This city is barren but for competitors.” Juniper advanced, and Cyril stood his ground. If she continued moving toward him, it would be he who would be justified in self-defense, not she. For now, he kept his face-plate up, staring her down as a human rather than a soldier. “We do not have to fight, but I'm afraid I need something of yours in order to continue. My wish isn't much—just to sweep away all the universe's evil. But I'll do whatever it takes.” His tone remained low and monotone, communicating his intent well enough. A refugee of a world accustomed to the weariness and desperation of souls like Juniper could not miss their hollowness in his dark eyes.

“Well, well, wellwellwellwellwell! What do we have here?” A familiar voices resounded through the grocery store. The door gave its chime once again, with the broken glass sliding open to admit a dark gray flying machine with a single purple eye. From just above that lens, the projector flickered on to reveal the smile of Oren Erumel. His arrival, Cyril felt, could only mean one thing. If the announcer started the fight, the vanguard could still ignore him of this woman's surrender seemed likely, but she hardly looked the type to concede something as vital as her soul. Besides, he still didn't know any way to acquire a soul other than killing its owner, which filled him with venom. He watched Oren turn between the two potential opponents before saying, “Looks like our first Round Two battle is brewing! Juniper the 'Junipersistent' versus the Knight Sylvestre, Cyril 'Brawniface'. I mean, you are gonna fight, right? Just because you're both 'heroes' doesn't mean one of ya isn't gonna be worm food in a half hour. If that makes sense. You two ready to scrap?”

The Fungal Knight

Location: Amusement Mile – Echoed Dead Man's Rock
@Banana

If a drone had been present to broadcast a live view of Oren's face, the furrow of his brow would have been evident to Bonesword. “What? Have things changed? When we went through that place, it was more like an elaborate playhouse than a museum.” The idea of echoes being linked to the various competitors found and entered into the tournament did not seem to provoke as much of a response as the skeleton thought it might. It didn't take supernatural intuition to infer that the announcer knew something that he wouldn't be telling, something that made Bonesword's report less of a surprise. “Duly noted. Class dismissed!” Oren signed off, and the morning was peaceful once again.

Some time slipped by, giving Bonesword room to roam, even to leave the Amusement Mile behind. This period was far from silent, however. Horrifying, chilling noises sounded out through the chloromancer's phylactery, shattering the morning's serenity. A cacophonous, repulsive rasp...the nauseating sounds of blood and gore...the roar of flame and sizzling of foul flesh...such bone-chilling horror bled from the device's implanted mic to drown out the soft ambiance of seabird and shore.

If Bonesword cast his eyes out toward the ocean, he could easily spot several shapes reaching out of the sea. One, which appeared to be a ship, sporting something most unusual. From this distance the details were hazy, but there was some kind of unnatural mass thrashing around on the deck, and during the obvious struggle there appeared something else, bloody and terrifying. The action, synced up exactly with the noise coming through the skeleton's phylactery, though delayed booms and bangs did reach him from across the water as well. As he watched, the ship began to burn.

Eventually the hellish concert faded away, but in the quiet that followed there came a growl through the line.

“Whoever you are, wherever you are, you bastard, I’m coming for you. And I will not stop until one of us is dead.”

In the sky, a small shape could be seen, moving with the telltale speed and whir of one of Oren's drones.

The Blood Devil

Location: Offshore Shipwreck
@RoughDragon1

Fear? Such a banality suited mundane organisms. The Writhing Worm was something beyond, but then again, so was its prey.

Two singularities of hatred and hunger faced off in a gruesome melee. One moved and struck like a swarm of despicable things, moving in perfect yet loathsome harmony with its many vile parts, and the other fought back with a bloodlust even more intense. Empowered by flame and drunk with blood, the hunter carved up her assailant, reducing it to a living pulp still rasping its fury as it splattered overboard. In a rather short amount of time, Saria eviscerated her foe and left the blazing ship behind. She cast off not a moment too soon; from the bowels of the ship, there came the roar of rending metal, and two more worms burst from the boat's hull like parasites from an afflicted animal's guts. With weeping scars from the in-fight that had distracted them while the third attacked Saria, they stretched out toward the escaping huntress, only to recede as the shipwreck began to list dangerously. They slid back into the shadows of the smoldering wreck, disappearing as all abominable things should into the welcoming dark.

Yet, they weren't the only monsters here. Saria, shivering in the rowboat, remained the Blood Devil still. Having stimulated her soul into a dire transformation for survival, the phylactery struggled to suppress the awakened power. Flames from her aura licked at the wooden rowboat, promising to incinerate it before long. Only a taken soul, after all, could fully quell the Frenzy. That of Saria's first opponent soothed the festering, but she wouldn't be cured unless she took her next opponent down. Furthermore, something else lurked beneath Saria's skin. A burning, a bubbling—the noisome liquor of the Writhing Worm's fangs had not been purged. It felt awful but, for now, subtle. Anger, pain, and even a sort of dark eagerness compelled her to row on, on to the next battle.

Project Crossover [SMASH ARENA - Only PXO members allowed]

Slayer
Level 3
Day 2
Location: In-house Smash Arena
@Zarkun
Experience: |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (27/30)

Yesterday, the failure of a counterhit Pile Bunker to lead into wallbounce might have thrown Slayer for a loop, but already he was beginning to expect the unexpected. Instead the blistering strike forced James a few feet away, and like any good zoner the soldier took the opportunity to put some distance between himself and his opponent. This was not an unanticipated move, and the moment he discerned the anomaly in his technique, Slayer started to walk forward. From the sound and tactile sensation of breaking, he assumed that his foe employed some variety of invisible energy shield. He was not allowed long to ponder, however, for James' evasive roll transitioned into a sudden three-shot burst from his pistol.

A human could not react to gunfire quickly enough to dodge. Such a feat simply did not lie within the purview of human abilities. Even Slayer could not slip out of the way of James' first shot, which being more of a warning shot than a murder attempt given his roll maneuver, grazed his rib and tore his suit. A spatter of blood hit the packed dirt ground, and as he teleported forward once again to avoid the remaining bullets, Slayer laughed. “Not bad!” Though his classy monocle, his keen eye caught James trying to reload. Even with a lifetime of practice, the nightstalker could only reload so fast, giving Slayer a chance to leap up for a jump-in attack. “But not good enough!” Leaning forward in midair, the vampire thrust his hands forward with the fingers extended, like a cat punching with its claws out. As luck would have it, James continued to move, and in accordance Slayer's strike whiffed. Another six-round burst blasted his way,but this time Slayer was ready. He crouched -which was to say, he morphed his cape into a chair and seated himself- and with his pipe blew out a small barrier of smoke to destroy the bullets in their tracks. Some energetic shrapnel got through, mussing the gentleman's 'do somewhat and putting a few small cuts into his face and shoulders. His eyebrows furrowed as a drop of blood ran down his cheek. “Muh...my hair!”

Indignation did not mean wasted time, as James would soon find out. Standing up and deforming his cape with surprising speed, Slayer moved in on the man who he knew was out of bullets. “Now then...withstand this!” He performed a short hop, lifting up both legs, and then slammed them on the ground to assume an upright stance. From the impact point a jet of amaranth fire exploded in a wide area, the flames unable to burn but carrying enough force to launch James up and back. Seamlessly the gentleman transitioned into another move—one James might recognize from the previous day but, should he have been hit by the blasting stomp, be totally unable to stop from comboing. “I shall sever! Dead On Time!” Slayer cannoned forward first-first, his speed and power igniting the very air around him, and his rock-hard knuckle bore down on James like a crashing wave.

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Slayer
Level 3
Day 2
Location: Tetris Castle 70th and 30th Floors
@Lmpkio@Bright_Ops@DracoLunaris@Etherean Fire@Holy Soldier@Zarkun@Guardian Angel Haruki@WingsOfBronze@Rockin Strings@Crosswire
Experience: |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (27/30)

Like all good things, Slayer's luxuriant nap in his jacuzzi had to come to an end. Eventually, he tired of the sensation of constant bubbling, and the heat became uncomfortable. At that point the gentleman could only give a sigh of absolute contentment and pull himself from the churning water. A quick stop in the changing room developed into a longer break as he coerced his hair back into its usual stylish and showy shape. It was during this preening that Guile's call to action came in the form of an odd turtle riding a cloud. Still smiling, Slayer read the message and returned to the Lakitu a nod of acknowledgment. A few final swipes of his comb later, he pulled on his suit jacket, tied his tie, and donned his scarlet cape. After a moment a consummate gentleman, refreshed, pleasant-smelling, and extraordinarily clean, stepped out of the spa and made his way to the elevator.

The ride was short, but at its end lay something worthwhile. Around the same meeting table where he and his allies had first been briefed before venturing into Erion, a platoon of fresh-faced heroes waited to receive their first orders. This bunch, Slayer felt, seemed more full of that determined vigor that so often flowed through doers of good, and he felt as though they might be more reliable than the grittier, more realistic individuals who abandoned the cause in the twilight forest. Putting together the faces he knew from his previous mission and those he'd spotted during the funeral, the vampire could more or less claim acquaintance with everyone present. He had yet to properly introduce himself to most of the newcomers, however, and looked forward to getting to know them better. There were a couple complete strangers, however, such as the pudgy short man and his lanky, purple-clad companion. One stank, literally and metaphorically, of greed and repugnance, but the other's hollow look and bent posture spoke of self-pity. Recognizing this, Slayer felt compelled to try and talk to the man, perhaps give him some attention and companionship. ”Good day to ya all. Just seeing the lot of ya rearing to go lifts an old man's heart, ya know.” He did not ramble on, however, and instead fixed his eyes on Guile to await a hearty dose of intel.

From the way the soldier described things, Slayer felt as though he'd missed out on something, no doubt linked to the hubbub earlier in the morning. All the same, his countenance betrayed nothing, and rather than quibble about 'cat burglar' this and 'King Dedede' that, he sought to glean what he could. Evidently this strangely-named monarch had gained possession of the precious items pilfered from the funeral, and awaited a stern confrontation from the ramparts of his Butter Buildings. ”How...cheery! A lighthearted change of pace from the gloom of that solemn kingdom, eh? Yet I suspect there is much more to this realm than meets the ear.” Next, Guile addressed the veterans directly. Though he wondered if a single mission warranted any sort of status as venerable instructor, Slayer commanded a vast treasure trove of knowledge when it came to helping out.

Certainly,” he gave a nod and turned around, holding up his hands to draw attention. ”Most poignantly, I'd like ya to be aware that things around here may not 'work' as yer used to. As best I can tell, reality operates slightly differently in different worlds, so be prepared to adapt to new and strange situations. This includes yer own abilities, so don't rely on any gimmick ya might have to carry ya through a dangerous situation. If we had more time, it'd be smart to run some tests, but we don't have much to spare. Second, try and observe yer teammates and find someone who compliments yer fighting style. On yer own, ya might be strong, but pairing up is all sorts o' good. Cover weaknesses, enhance strength, combination attacks...don't be afraid to try something new. That should cover the basics, mm?” He gave a firm but encouraging smile, sure that he could convince the new heroes that things would turn out well.

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

Are we doing a fire emblem awakening arc?

@hatakekuro

That'd be interesting, for sure

The Crucible - Winner Take All

@Lugubrious I mean, if it's not something you're expecting to have control over, don't feel forced. I'm just trying to come up with events for Motley and Erina to respond to, is all, and it feels like they're a bit disconnected from the rest of the game as far as interaction goes. Anyway, I can handle the encounter, since all of the above's the case.

@BCTheEntity

The way to get them interacting would have been to call Oren and get me to do something that way, or to be linked with Runch's com.

@Lugubrious So Serhan didn't find anything/anybody then?

@ProPro

Nah, not this time.