Lugubrious

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

what's up with the races and other activities happening on family day

how shall we save the participants from inactivity hell

@Crimmy

Just skip ahead or something, it's not my problem anymore. Please don't tag me.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

@Crimmy What's the point of tagging me?

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Knight Sylvestre

Location: the Neighborhood
@GreenGoat

“Better than nothing,” Cyril replied, the flatness of his tone indicating he would brook no more of Juniper's postulating after her first question. Her words could not sting him now; he didn't care what she said, how pointed her derision, or how self-righteous her manner. The fact remained that this woman was just like him, believing in something strong enough to risk her life and trample the wish of others. In another life, Cyril mused with regret, they could have been friends. Sadly, it seemed that there would be no peaceful solution to this conflict of interests.

Oren sensed it too. He'd listened to one competitor challenge the other's ideals, and her opponent refuse to surrender what little he had. The imminent duel would be no base slobberknocker, with each side powered by rage or greed, no. It would be a battle of worldviews, and the best battles were -of course- personal. A grim grin spread across his features. “Then it's decided. As always, reason and persuasion can only go so far. It's up for fate to decide who's right. Or rather...who's left. Prepare yourselves, combatants.”

A heavy, genuine sigh issued from Cyril's lips, and he reached up to flip down his visor. The metal mask clipped into place on his jawguard, replacing his features with stone-gray steel and a shadowy cross. When he spoke, weapons at the ready, his voice rang more hollow than ever. “You are no hero then, to try to squash even the tiniest ray of hope. I am sorry it's come to this...I will try to make it quick.” It didn't bleed into his voice, but for the first time, Cyril felt just a twinge of anticipation. This woman had demonstrated how little she thought of someone who'd risk it all for hope, stomping his resolve into the ground with accusations. It would be fitting, and maybe even fulfilling, to put her in her place instead. His heart began to beat faster, sending blood through his veins, filling him with the energy to do what he must.

The pincer of the announcer's drone opened wide. “Dare to believe that you can survive! ….FIGHT!”

The Fungal Knight and the Blood Devil

Location: the Shore
@Banana@RoughDragon1

From his comfy seat in his tall tower, Oren furrowed his brow. What did Saria just say? He could scarcely believe it. Did bloody rage incarnate just feel a twinge of sadness for the sorrowful tale of Bonesword? He wondered why the story of a skeleton's loss might affect her so. He didn't know anything about the world she hailed from, of course, but her own monstrousness told him that it was a twisted one at the very least. All the same, her words suggested that the living dead were rare indeed, if not nonexistent. Perhaps in her world death was a release from its nightmares. Curious, the bespectacled punmaker thought. As much as he would have wanted to question Saria about it to satiate his wonderment, he suspected she wouldn't have been much for fraternization even without a fight brewing. As it was, it fell to him to orchestrate the fisticuffs' commencement.

Bonesword's efforts had transformed a stretch of the beach into a dense, dangerous jungle, and within he waited with patience and respect for his opponent's challenge. Saria stood just outside, more than likely within eyesight of her foe. For his part, Oren wondered what it felt like to come face-to-face like this for the first time, with someone who'd been nothing more than a voice moments ago and could be nothing more than a stain in the stand in a few minutes. Once he felt the pair were close enough, which still allowed a good distance between them, Oren spoke up from the drone that hovered above and between the pair. “A strange encounter...two souls in pain, neither totally averse to their own destruction. It's a bizarre thought that whoever wins, both are still satisfied. Or...maybe I just don't get it. Whatever it is, it's time to begin.” The announcer signed off and readied his drone's pincer hand.

“Three...two...one...”

With the press of a final confirmation key, the duel of swordsmen began.

CLACK

Seraphim

Location: the Park
@DracoLunaris

The silhouette of the massive, unidentified flying object did not lie. As Sophia ascended higher and higher, it became clearer and clearer than the dark shape that glided over uptown City of Echoes was indeed a bird of mammoth proportions. Still, the clouds masked its exact form. Only once she breached the cloud layer could she see it in all its glory for the first time.

Floating among the clouds like a ray sliding across the seabed, the immense avian appeared to be a kind of crow. Its rich black plumage, particularly on its wings, seemed to ripple. Through her binoculars Sophia could see actual heatwaves beneath its wings and body—somehow the creature was using its body heat to help generate additional lift by warming the air. The curvature of its wings, tailfeathers, and even torso gave the impression of parachutes designed to catch air and stay aloft rather than acquire significant speed. All of this physiology, though, did not matter so much as what sat atop the colossal carrion bird.

On the giant's head and back lay a sprawling citadel. It was a large fortress, not too sturdily built to avoid overtaxing its carrier, but imposing nonetheless in its intricacy. Everything was designed to be streamlined from the front, and to offer as much strength as possible without using an excessive amount of material. Dark gray and slate blue dominated its constitution, with more than a little wood. With her enhanced sight, Sophia could see a great many narrow horizontal slits in the roofs, allowing air to flow through so as to not pressure the buildings themselves. At the center of the bird's back was the largest structure, a domed atrium of sorts. The neck sported more stairs and platforms than anything, and on the head was an odd building shaped rather like a helmet, not actually inclosed but open to the air with construction to block the wind, and complete with an extension across the top of the crow's beak. It was on the head that Sophia could spy movement.

The sounds of gunfire could be heard, though, faint, from where on the helm two figures whirled in the dance of battle. One, a poncho-wearing gunslinger with a wide-brimmed hat, sported bandage wrappings all across his body. White designs of flowers and bones dotted his brown and yellow clothing, as well as pieces of antiquated armor made to look like bones, spiced up his attire. All in all, he resembled a mummified cowboy. His opponent was a woman in an outfit that resembled a blend between a kunoichi's garb and a dress. Though more functional than fanciful, its pristine white theme complemented a gradient pattern on the front that went from red to purple to blue going down. It went well with her white hair, kept back in a spiky ponytail except for a leafy bang on the left side. From the intensity of their movements, they were sparring, but still going at it with tenacity. Wielding knives not unlike ink pens, the woman darted around constantly to avoid the brutally fast and accurate shots of the gunslinger. After a few moments of observation, a third figure could be made out nearby, watching. Clad in a high-collared gray coat, black sash, and a crested helmet that obscured his features, he leaned against the wall with a casual manner that contradicted his appearance completely. This man -unarmed and without wings- watched the practice fight, interjecting on occasion to point something out or give advice, though his words were lost on the breeze.

Less visible but still present were sentries, stationed all around the citadel's exterior. There were two types: winged, armored humanoids that resembled angels, and four-legged humanoid insects bearing spears and shields. The latter Sophia would surely recognize as Myrmidons, the minions of Clotho. None of them appeared to have noticed her for the time being, distant as she was and hidden by clouds herself.

The Cereal Killer and the Book Keeper

Location: Oldtown Colosseum
@ProPro@BCTheEntity

As tense as the atmosphere was, it was wasted on the flying machine that cruised in to hover with just a touch of ominousness above and behind Motley Crue. “Looks like the gang's all here,” Oren's voice resounded through the drone, its volume increased only a little to echo across the ancient arena. “And I do mean 'gang.' Good on the both of you for buddying up with your first-round opponents, eh? The phylacteries' D.A.S. must be workin' like a treat. For those keeping notes at home, that's Directed Aggression Suppression, an effect exercised on the holder of a defeated phylactery that dampens negative intent against the holder of the one that beat it...now that's a miracle of technology! If the College can reverse-engineer that, man...I sure hope they don't! And taking advantage of D.A.S. To convince Erina that she's under your control, Crue...you sure you aren't a mad genius?

Laughter resounded from the contraption, and its projected image of Oren's face could barely contain his smile. “Oh, but listen to me prattle on,” he reprimanded himself, faking sorriness. “We're not here to listen to me spill the beans on College discoveries. We're here to prove who has what it takes to win his one wish. I hope you're ready, gentlemen; you're live in three, two, one!”

The drone's pincer snapped together with brutal force, nearly as loud as a starting pistol. “GO!”

The Crucible - Winner Take All

@Lugubrious
Question, did you forget me in your last post or was it intentional? I'm cool with either.

Edit: Removed three words, as I have been clarified on information.

@Banana

Nothing in your last post required my involvement.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Knight Sylvestre

Location: the Neighborhood
@GreenGoat

With his ultimatum issued, Cyril need only stare at his opponent, plainfaced, until she made her decision. It didn't seem possible that this situation could go any other way. Oren's words puzzled him -after all, he certainly wouldn't describe himself as a hero, and if this woman wouldn't give up her soul voluntarily after hearing his wish, she wasn't either- but to be frank he didn't care enough to challenge him. Those that talked a lot, he knew, craved an audience. By ignoring the announcer he would render his irritating speech useless. All that remained, then, was the question: how could he make this morning, with its golden rays poking through last night's clouds and the rain pooled in the ditches, a stepping stone toward his goal?

Juniper put off the decision, however, and her words made the vanguard's lip curl. “Gleeful? Forgive me, but are you simple? What about me says 'gleeful'? I don't even enjoy cutting down those who deserve it. Anyway, the announcer said 'hero', not me. Fighting evil doesn't make someone good...” Though such a statement could have just as easily been issued by a self-assured vigilante, Cyril's low, morose tone spoke more of self-depreciation than anything.

Her next question made him want to sigh and roll his eyes, but he didn't want to be rude. Instead, he averted his gaze, and replied, “What? I don't need to...debate philosophy with you.” He paused, gears turning in his head. Despite his dismissive declaration, he felt oddly nagged by the impulse to justify himself. Why? If he admitted to himself he wasn't a hero, he didn't need justification. The reasons behind his wish should have been self-evident. He wasn't deluded, or insane, or anything. Just a man sick of suffering who finally saw a way to end it. In his head, he didn't even want to do it to be seen as a hero, but just to bring peace. His only personal gain would be a life of safety, without worry. It made perfect sense.

Another moment slid by before the knight spoke again. “I'm not some wide-eyed idealist or justicular. There's no point. I don't know where you come from, but the place I'm from is a world of monsters, demons, and men who can be worse than any of 'em. It's a fight for survival. People fight every day for reasons they don't understand, for causes they don't believe in. But here...in this Crucible, I've found a way that just might be able to end all that. So a few lives, my life, my soul...it'd all be worth it, even if it's the smallest chance.” The words hardened his tremulous heart, helping to calm his troubled mind and build the confidence he needed to do this. “I'm nobody,” he said, more firmly. “So even if I'd be happier if I didn't, it doesn't matter if I die, or have to kill. It's a small sacrifice for something that would bring so much real good. I've finally found what I was looking for: a fight I believe in.”

He took a quick, deep breath and stepped back. “So what are you so high and mighty about? Huh? What do you believe in, looking down on my wish?” His dull eyes harbored a certain spark. “Revenge on those who hurt you? A new arm? Doesn't matter. In the end, you're just like me, wishing for something. One of us is getting the other's soul, so might as well forget the chitchat and see who's wish is stronger. Last chance to surrender, miss.” He released the shaft of his glaive with his left hand and held it in a fist across his chest, a gesture of his army's that signified both respect and acknowledgment of an imminent fight.

The Blood Devil

Location: the Port
@RoughDragon1

A dark chuckle, amped up in volume, emanated from the phylactery on which Saria had a strangehold. “Yeah, I'm sure. I've brushed off scarier things than you today, but whatever, request's a request. Your opponent is on the shore, not far, hiding in a big bunch of plant's he's summoned. I'm sure ya can see it from there.”

Not wanting to have his eardrums further stimulated, Oren cut the line after that. His drone, also in the general area, would automatically capture events preceding the fight between the Blood Devil and the Fungal Knight. When the time came to get the party started, he'd flick the switch that would connect him and officiate the match's beginning, though at this point he did not at all expect the frenzied Saria to wait for him. He exhaled deeply, which turned into a shudder as he remembered the malformed abominations that Saria discovered on the shipwreck. Man, first the giant bird, now this...these echoes have some flippin' crazy stuff. Maybe I oughta start a report to the College, titled, 'Like Everyone Who Messes With Stuff We Don't Understand, We Bit Off More Than We Could Chew and Might be Screwed'. Snickering he said aloud, “It's a work in progress.”

Seraphim

Location: the Park
@DracoLunaris

Sophia's paranoia proved unfounded as her trek into the narrow ravine turned up no ambush whatsoever. In fact, this entire area had been far enough away from the events of last night as to avoid fire damage completely, and this local in particular stood out as quite the peaceful, picturesque little spot. Several different varieties of tree stood on the crevice's edges, their roots snaking in and out of the dirt bent like old fingers, and amongst them poked out the elegant heads of lavender wildflowers. It would have been more scenic still had there not been a supply cache stuck in the ravine's far end, wedged between the walls. With the fuel contained within, the good sister could easily ascend to the clouds and fulfill Oren's request before seeking out her new opponent. The announcers drone, meanwhile, hovered nearby in autopilot. Mindless, it had followed Sophia during her trip, ready to be picked up and lofted skyward when she was ready to accomplish her task. Evidently, Oren did not concern himself with the two contestants' conversation.

That said, he did keep his end of the bargain. The very same drone held an item box, and within awaited the treasure that was both Sophia's reward and her impetus toward greater service for the College.

You also got:
28. Egg
It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all
Messily consumes a loved one of the owner to grant the owner's one wish

Gaben's Chosen

Location: Governance Hub – Art Gallery
@Hostile

While the sculptures in the art gallery's entrance hall alone were many, the artifact in question wasn't exactly hidden. A golden shape lay in the lap of a man reclined against a pillar behind the main reception desk, who held his head in his hands as though bemoaning the object upon him. Though sporting an odd design, the item Mountain had been sent to retrieve was clearly an arrow of expensive make. However, Mountain did not get the chance to stare at it for long.

Something small and dark moved behind the reception desk, and the next moment, something happened. The mechanism for it happening was impossible to discern, but with extreme abruptness and speed, the art gallery receded. The entire building sped backward -or so it appeared to the museum's visitor- at a rapid pace, only slowing down when it reached about a half mile away. A quick look around would determine that the landscape had changed. To either side, the plaza had appeared to expand lengthwise, putting a large amount of distance between Mountain and the gallery's inside. The ground itself appeared to have stretched, and the patterns on the buildings duplicated over and over again to fill the new space. Inexplicably, the plaza was now twice as long as it had been, with the building a good distance away. Having been at the top of the stairs, right at the door, when space extended, it appeared that Mountain was still on that same ground, but the exact portion of ground just ahead of him had been lengthened to put him at a safe distance from whatever had caused this. This must have been what Oren meant when he said his drones were 'sent back', and it didn't take a below-average mind to be confused by it.

The Cereal Killer

Location: Oldtown
@ProPro@BCTheEntity

Having scrutinized the activities of the courageous captain and his Ottoman accomplice for some time, albeit idly, Oren responded to Runch's request with a greater-than-usual swiftness. Perhaps in anticipation of what everything indicated would be an imminent battle, the announcer obliged his caller with very little prevarication, and in a tone that echoed some of Runch's excitement. “Comin' right up. Let's see what our mutual friend's up to.” A series of mouse clicks later, the bespectacled bamboozler succeeded in making the connection, and for the second time yet spoke to the enigmatic vampire and his vulpine acquaintance.

“Heyheyhey there, Crue! I know ya've been havin' fun with Fluffer Number Two there for a while now, but a certain someone's dyin' to get down to business. Say hello to your next opponent!”

After that Oren kept quiet to allow Runch to make his own introduction, and with no small amount of fascination he watched him ascend to the heavens afterward, buoyed up by a towering Babel of whole wheat. For a time, his mouth hung just a little bit open, though his eyes remained as squinted as ever. Only when the pirate reached Terra Firma did he find his tongue. “Whoa. If I ever need new glasses, I know where to look, 'cause that was quite the spectacle. Betcha won't have any trouble getting' your Round 2 started. Good luck, cap'n!”

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Looks like you're out, @Deadnaut

So, I'm back from my six-week travel.

The amount of dropouts is incredibly disappointing. I see no reason to think that I haven't given every opportunity for conversation to resolve whatever problems I might have. It's really wreaked havoc with expectations and RP organization. As it stands, every single person except @Kapuchu in the entire East Side district, one-fourth of the City of Echoes, has abandoned the RP without any good reason being offered. This means that Kapuchu isn't getting the RP experience he deserves, for one thing, but on the flipside it also means he's guaranteed to be in the final four. During my travels, we went from 16 players down to 12.

Needless to say, I'm very thankful for all of you who are with still me. I would be very pleased to try and work out any issues that any of you might have. Hopefully, my return means we can pick up the pace and really start knocking heads. My next post will be coming out today, for instance, though that's not to say whether or not I'm starting any fights in it. I know that we can pull through despite the losses and work towards the Crucible's glorious finish. So who's ready to rumble?

Konosuba: This Wonderful World's Alternative Paradigm

𝓠𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓵

@DracoLunaris @Lunarlors34@Lucius Cypher

Like the lid of a chest being thrown open, Quarel's intended target opened wide its rubbery mouth and shot its tongue at him. Idiot, he concluded as the sticky pink tendril zoomed toward him. I was coming that way anyway, and now you're gonna get cut. He held one arm in its path, and dutifully the tongue latched on. With very little delay it began to pull, throwing him off and preventing a good overhead chop. When the strigiforme's blade struck the tongue, it was at a bad angle, and without enough power to cut very deep at all. Knowing he wouldn't get a second chance, Quarel gritted his teeth as the monster reeled him in, and its jaws snapped shut on him almost as string as a bear trap. Unfortunately for it, the toad wasn't giant enough to fit him completely, and the bottom third of his body poked out from between its warty lips. For his head, however, the world had gone dark and slimy, and despite its age and small size the toad turned out to possess quite the set of jaw muscles after all. Its squeeze nearly caused Quarel's eyes to bug out, and he couldn't stop himself from shouting in pain. Another feeling assailed him, though—the familiar sensation of adrenaline surged through his veins, just as it did whenever he, having gotten into a fight, realized that his opponent intended to kill him.

Quarel turned his cry of pain into one of rage, and with a strength enhanced by fear and anger used his free hand to shove his knife into the soft skin on the roof of the toad's mouth. Yanking back his captured hand, he ripped into the tongue with his sharp beak. Now that it had done its job pulling prey into the toad's mouth, the tongue muscles had gone slack, and he was able to shred it badly enough to essentially free his second hand. Into the bottom jaw went the second knive, with a splash of gooey blood and a meaty shluck. All that remained then was to push, but to his chagrin Quarel found his strength unable to repel the oppressive, bone-bruising force of the toad's jaws. Clocked into overdrive by the chemicals pouring through him, Quarel's mind found and in an instant accepted that there was only one thing to do. Groaning, he pulled his legs inside the mouth and performed, to the best of his ability, a split. His well-developed leg muscles went to work trying to pry open the toad's mouth, while he used his hands to more deeply embed his knives in the toad's flesh. He'd reached the limit of what he could do; all that was left was to test his energy and endurance, and see whether the owl or the amphibian would come out on top. For the first time, he wondered why nobody else was helping. Between his incomprehensible effort noises, he mused, Guess I'm not...as good a motivator...as I thought!

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Yeah, that'd be my preference. They don't have to be super long, but a dynamic story with a definitive beginning, middle, and end -with each part written at a different time- might very well offer a more interesting experience for both the writer and the reader.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

@Lugubrious is my opponent still in game? I couldn't find a post by them after my last one...and if they're out do you prefer me to get the fight over with or can I keep messing about for a bit?

@Sentel

No, Wild West is out, unfortunately. You can do either, but I'd gravitate toward starting the fight

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

@Lugubrious@hatakekuro You think that Ariel would be part of Team Powder Keg by this point? That would put them back up to three. Or is that team pretty much gone?

@t2wave

That'd be fine with me!