Lugubrious

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Azura
Level 1
Day 3
Location: 26th Floor of Tetris Castle, the Reception Hall
Experience: |||||||||| (0/10)
Word Count: 1063

The look given to Azura in response from the President did not please her, but neither did it phase her. A brusque attitude was, after all, the only form of rebellion one could have against someone in a place of authority. His eyes and face made it clear, furthermore, that after embarrassing both himself and then shamelessly demonstrating equal parts immaturity and unsuitability for leadership, he expected his new underlings to lap it up. Such damning conceit. Through eyes half-closed out of indifference, Azura turned her attention to her remaining allies in turn.

She regretted failing to understand much of what the strange young man, who gave his name as Vent, had to say. In a refreshing turn of self-awareness, however, he did say that he expected as much. Even with his strange physiology, Azura could figure out that he felt almost as annoyed by their supposed superior's antics as she did, but in contrast he behaved more chipper and obliging. Maybe that is the attitude to have, Azura considered. It's possible that the Boss is acting the way he is in order to get a rise out of us. If that's the case, I'm giving him exactly what he wants by reacting poorly. She resolved to pick up cues from the remaining members.

Out of the remaining two, the more sizable machine spoke up next. Though her materials and make were unknown to her, Azura recognized Piper as an inorganic construct, not too dissimilar from some of the golems that could be found in her own world. This one, however, proved herself possessed of intelligence practically indistinguishable from a human's, so the songstress resolved to treat her as such. Right after Piper, the unknown soldier introduced himself. He gave a salute, which Azura dismissed as a formality wasted on the Boss, before describing both himself and his world of origin. Though once again Azura found herself irked that some of his terminology escaped her, he gave out every impression of being a capable and competent soldier. For a moment she stared at his equipment, watching him handle its small parts, before coming to a conclusion. As appropriate as it might be for the Boss, her silence and lack of cooperation were rude -even tactically unsound- to these other comrades. Taking a breath of the chilly air, she prepared to speak.

Not unlike her lance, the words of the Boss cut over her attempt at introduction, and for a moment Azura appeared paralyzed by the name assigned to her by him. Spear...babe? A pet name suitable for a tavern wench. She pursed her lips. Since I didn't introduce myself, I suppose its to be expected. If...he is lascivious, I will have to speak to whoever delegates these assignments. A sigh escaped her. If we survive with him at the helm.

What followed was a strange series of events: a fellow Azura guessed was a local approached, his stance indicating no violent intent, before fleeing with a shriek at the sight of Piper. From beneath furrowed brows, her yellow eyes watched him sprint back toward the nearby encampment. How out of character for a warrior. Could these 'steel gods' be so intimidating? He must have mistaken Piper for one such enemy. Perhaps that gives us an idea as to what our enemy is like. Her reflection fell by the wayside as the familiar sound of feet on the move met her ears. Refocusing in the direction that the scout retreated in, she spotted a troop of fighters headed her way. It didn't take a genius to guess their intent.

The Boss suggested fighting them, but that struck her as a hot-blooded and asinine solution. These people were supposed to be, from what she understood, allies or at least contacts. Any sort of conflict between them would lead to nothing but problems: strained relations, casualties, foes taking them by surprise or making advances during the infighting. Azura sensed that her time had come; an opportunity lay to take out three birds with one stone.

Ignoring the Boss's quibbling about team names, she stepped forward in front of the rest of the group. The Stormcloaks were still far enough to give her a brief moment to do what she needed, and Azura did not intend to waste it. Holding her lance horizontally against her thighs, she bowed in the soldiers' direction, and called out. “I am Azura, from the kingdom of...” There came the briefest pause. “Hoshido.” She straightened up, and dropped the Blessed Lance in the snow. The Stormcloaks were getting closer, not yet convinced. ”We wish to parley with your leader. There is no need for violence, or fear. This is for you: a token of peace.”

This is the moment. She cleared her throat, and began to sing. Her soft voice rang with astonishing clarity through the frigid air, rolling across the snow like the first sunbeams of a brand new day. For a couple seconds she sang without words, but carefully-chosen lyrics began just after.

“In endless dreams, countless realms collide
Hope falls only to rise like the changing tide
But all dreams come to an end,
A light lost to time, just whispers on the wind.”

Beneath her heavy winter clothing, her pendant glimmered. Her song soothed the mind of all who heard it, calming the urge to fight and allowing stress and fatigue to slip away. It did not force compliance, like a siren's song, but rather invited serenity and appreciation. If it ensnared the eye and enchanted the mind, it was because her performance possessed true beauty and grace, not because of some sinister magic. When she finished, Azura could not help but to gasp at the sting of pain in her heart that followed. It clawed at her from deep within, a brief but acute attack on her soul. She knew its origin, but could never speak of it. Once the moment passed, she opened her eyes to stare out at the soldiers with a gently sorrowful face. Every warrior in their camp must have heard her song, but if it did not quell the fighting spirit of those just in front of her, she could not be assured of her own survival, much less the success of her mission. This was a test—to see if the outpouring of her heart held true in this world as much as it did her own.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Nice post @Lugubrious! One problem though, you forgot to mention the giant Evelyn-crafted monstrosity that burst through the brick wall of the warehouse to enter the fray (which also roared in a fashion I believe).

Seen here.

@yoshua171

Thank you for looking out for me. If you look again I did mention Evelyn's monstrosity, though I didn't mention breaking through any walls.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Tension continued to mount, and the Margrave's inscrutably handsome features bore an expression ever grimmer. As he waited for some sort of plan of action, the ego-rending words of Chatterbox continued to fly. Could this be my nemesis? the daring vagabond pondered to distract himself. A villain who, having acknowledged the vast gulf of power and skill between himself and the legendary Margrave, seeks to whittle down my courage through sheer loquaciousness? Who is this man!? He tried to keep alert, but it proved difficult as the feeling of helplessness mounted. I cannot sit here sputtering any longer. Even if it be foolhardy, I have to act! To extinguish this derision and demonstrate my vaunted prowess! He grit his teeth and rocked forward off the wall, ready to stand and do something.

Then a pair of roars shook the premises, one not long after the other. Surprised and, for a brief moment, possessed of clarity of thought, the Margrave twisted around and peeked his head up to peer into the warehouse through the window he and the Wards' leader hid beneath. His eyes locked on to the titanic frame of a great reptile, its fangs large as knives and its scales tougher than crocodile hide. Though far bigger than the turkey-sized velociraptor, it didn't stand quite as high as the awesome Tyrannosaur, though that wasn't to denigrate its fearsomeness. A primeval carnotaur...? the Margrave found himself wondering as it rampaged into the warehouse interior, attacking the Community evildoers with wild abandon and -more importantly for him- seizing their attention. Alongside it was a far more otherwordly beast, a six-limbed monster that could only conceivably be attributed to Tulpa. Though he'd borne a grimace only seconds ago, the Margrave found himself grinning. ”The enemy is in disarray. 'Twould seem they're not quite living up to the hype. Come to think of it, if they really were that strong, would they need to rely on intimidation tactics? I feel as though a great burden has been lifted off my shoulders.” He spoke quickly, aware of how inappropriate a dramatic monologue might be at the current moment. The impetus to act remained with him, after all, and he was loathe to waste such a perfect opportunity. From the shouting he heard earlier, he supposed that the dinosaur was in fact Tiger Lily, but even still he felt it ill-advised to risk jumping in alongside his new, carnivorous ally, or Tulpa's nightmarish projection. No matter—from a distance, the Margrave was an even greater threat.

When the call went out and Messiah began to move, the Margrave advanced just after her. From his heavily-laden coat he produced the toy gun he brandished in the mission prior, which promptly reverted to a MAC-10 in his hands. Rubber bullets or not, it would do some damage, particularly to enemies focused on a monster from the distant past. Perhaps I've been overthinking things. Bullets, applied tactically, solve a miraculous amount of problems. He stopped just after following Messiah through the doorway, and while she went ahead he trained his submachine gun on the group of baddies from behind cover. Lillian will shrug these off, he reminded himself as his index finger slid onto the trigger. ”Laying Waste: Opportune Burst!” he muttered through his smile before squeezing the trigger, sending a spray of bullets in the direction of the foe.

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Slayer
Level 5 || Day 3 – Morning || On the Doom Train
@Zarkun @Majoras End @Tenma Tendo @ONL
Experience: |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (16/50)
Word count: 596

Claws of keratin met claws of flame, sending up sparks as the two sets of weapons slid off one another rather than clanging together. The tremendous momentum of both combatants carried through to strike the other's chest, and the next instant the force slid the two apart. Thanks to the odd impact, their slashing blows managed to convey pushing power rather than cutting power, creating the distance between them. Slayer glanced down at his chest, then at his lupine opponent. Some satisfaction tickled him as he noticed that Warwick got the worse deal out of their exchange by a long shot, but the damage to his suit jacket and tie disgruntled him to such a degree that any joy was buried. Complaining could come later, however; for now, Slayer had a fight to win. Through gritted teeth, he told the werewolf, ”I admit I respect your ferocity, but I've gotten a bead on your one-track mind. Steady yourself; this may get rough.” He clenched his fist and began to move.

The next second, the PA sounded off once again, interrupting the four-way fight. Its first words brought an official end to the warm-up battle. With a wry smile, Slayer relaxed his stance, slipping his hands into his pockets. ”Color me surprised that you lot would think so little of us,” he told Warwick, who turned his back and limped away in a huff. One by one the other fighters departed, all except the Death Knight, whose approach bespoke of a bonus of conversation. ”Should I have the time, I'd be happy to lend a hand,” he said in response to the warrior's request. His gaze grew more interested as his acquaintance's speech shifted to strategy. An intangible enemy, eh? ”Gracious of you t'let me know. I'll keep that in mind.” With a slight bow of his head, he bid the Death Knight farewell. It wasn't long at all before the train, already slowing down, came to a halt. The nearby doors slid open, and Slayer strode up to the car's edge.

Before him lay a grim vista; twisted black trees, spectral blue flame, a wrought-iron gate, and a house that looked physically warped all screamed 'haunted'. Even the grass, a touch off-color, gave off an eerie vibe. Add to that a miasma of dark mist that made whatever lay on its other side wobble back and forth like jello and the scene could scarcely be more surreal. It made Slayer smile. ”Wouldja look at that!” He allowed the skeletons to lead him out at the head of his group, gesturing to the haunted mansion as he turned part-way around. ”Classic stuff. Perfect blend of barren and spooky, not too heavy on the décor, and the waverin' effect given by the mist makes it seem all dream-like. Jack-O'd have a fit, I'm sure.” He paused in his assessment as the Headless Horseman approached to talk about schedules—both his and theirs. As the Horseman spoke, Slayer adjusted what remained of his tie and dusted his jacket off. ”Six hours? Goodness, I hope it doesn't take that long.” By the time he finished, the Horseman was already gone, and with an ominous whistle the fabled Doom Train was rolling once more.

Slayer stroked his goatee, considering the path that lay before him. ”Hmm...well, we have nothin' if not time.” Holding his labels, he performed an about-face to address the group. ”Are you all well? I failed to pay as much attention to your fights as I should've. If everyone's in good shape, we can proceed with our little hunt.”

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

From her slightly-contorted, crouched position beside Kane, Ludmilla grinned. Though her mask disguised her devilish smile, the narrowing of her eyes in glee, and the flickering of her abnormal left, gave it away. After all, her field of hyper-viscous air seemed to stop the bullets and petals in their tracks. Some got around the edges or over the top, of course, but none hit her or her allies, which constituted a success in her book. Another cause for celebration was the arrival of another ally in the form of Mana, who demonstrated a new angle of attack that could circumvent Ludmilla's barrier to get at the pro hero. To be facing off against a big name so soon send shivers of anticipation down the Russian's back, though she knew better than to try something foolhardy for the sake of a little satisfaction.

She refocused her attention on another figure, commanding and burly with a jawline that belonged on a bulldozer, now approaching her flash zone at ramming speed. Ludmilla smirked. He looks like a tough customer, but he ain't getting through the front door. Bigger you are, the more surface area for the air to push against. It'd be like trying to waltz through a four-foot tank of peanut butter...no, molasses!

Then the pro pushed right through it, making Ludmilla's jaw drop. ”What the hell!?” After a brief moment of stunned silence she stumbled backward, falling onto her side as she turned to dodge. As much as she fancied her combat ability, it did not strike her as worthwhile to see if she could avoid taking a hit from this meathead. Panicked, she scrambled to get up, but as luck would have it the brute went for Kane itself. Probably doesn't even see me as a threat, she realized as she regained her feet in one fluid motion, managing to make her pratfall look sort of like an evasive roll. Which is great since if he can nullify my quirk, I'm really not. 'Course, the field had to be thin to be wide enough to block all the projectiles... Even if a thicker field just for him might work, it wasn't worth the risk when a much stockier ally was rearing for a slobberknocker. Her attention would be better served elsewhere.

Such an opportunity presented itself when, after turning to see if Mana's vine attack succeeded, Ludmilla instead saw a little girl in archaic armor cut the plants up with a couple of katanas. Huh. I'm more surprised she has the upper body strength for that. Or is it that plant bitch's vines are weak?Wha's the obsession with those objectively crappy swords, anyway? One taunt and one introduction later -she presumed-, it looked like the sidekick was spoiling for a fight. Ludmilla's eyes slid-half shut in nonchalance as she skirted around Kane's punchout to stand on the same side as Mana. She couldn't understand what Swift Blade said, of course, but judging by her tone the kid was talking pretty big for someone standing on the other side of a stasis field. Leaning forward, Ludmilla beckoned with both hands as she called, ”Вы хотите, да? Приезжают сюда и получить нас тогда, маленькая сука!”

The Crucible - Winner Take All

The Lady in White

Location: Kno One
@Lazo

Splinters flew as the two tables slammed together with a thunderous crack, but no bifurcated body went flying along with them. With Pithy escaped from the vice, the furniture seemed to lose all will to continue, and both slumped down into a shared pile of debris with the utensils, shattered glassware, and fractures plates that adorned them seconds before. Though whatever animated them appeared to have departed, it lost no interest in Pithy, even as her magicked frost surged over the restaurant's interior. Paintings and other items floated off their hooks and wall-shelves, pausing just long enough to turn sideways and gather speed before hurtling themselves as well. One by one they met with Pithy's evasion or defense. While the frozen pipes, still half-phased through the floor, shook as though trying to free themselves from winter's clutches, no more rose from the ground to bind Pithy as she neared the unmarked door.

When she reached for the knob, the brass handle bent out of the way before lashing out in a curt slap at the sorceress's hand. The nasty sound of rent metal burst through the hallway from the direction of the kitchen as a fan ripped itself loose from the ceiling. Blades spinning with wild abandon, it whirred in Pithy's direction.

Despite the commotion, the lack of active machinery left the scene rather quiet. Over the groan of leftover wind the Lady in White could hear a haggard shout from inside the room. “Can't get in that way, window in kitchen! Don't relax for one instant Pithy, Kno One is this entire building!”

As the fan bore down on Pithy, a laugh echoed from the foundation to the roof, seeping through every wall. “Heheh. Looks like he's banking on you not killing him, if you get out of here. Maybe his warning has helped you realize, but you've walked into a deathtrap.” At that moment, the connection became easy to make. The psychological pressure, the portentous feeling of wrongness that made every fiber of one's being ache for escape...though far more powerful, it resembled the sensation one felt when dipping one's hand in a lake filled with piranhas, or of placing one's head in the wrenched-open maw of a crocodile. It was the doom of being in the belly of the beast.

Sunspot

Location: the Park
@FloodTalon

Laughter. Pieter's face wasted no time in beginning to twist in umbrage. Ever since that fateful day in his childhood he'd heard it, and never had it failed to piss him off. This jackass just didn't seem able to understand the situation he was in, or perhaps he was just that committed to ruining Pieter's day. “You'll get the idea when your muscle peels off your bones,” he muttered, contempt dripping through his voice. Over the cacophonous swish of leaves and Jin's own derisive laughter, though, the noseless man doubted his opponent could hear it. His leaves were in position to pierce Jin's hide, delivering a fatal dose of the poison straight to the center of his circulatory system. From there, all Pieter would need to do would be to wait for the brat to fall to pieces--!

He jolted in surprise, an involuntary cry escaping him, as Jin lunged forward. Attuned to their master's will, the leaf-lances zeroed in on the assassin's position to hurl themselves into his body, but not a single one hit its mark. They sprouted from the ground in his wake, like the shoots of a young forest, as he barreled ahead. A brutal light gleamed from his swords, leaving the steel behind to fly through open air and shear through Pieter's tree as thought it had already been made into paper. The tree's upper half shook, forcing the College man to strengthen his grip and grit his teeth. Every instinct on him cried out as the tree began to topple, everything happening so fast that Pieter couldn't even breathlessly vocalize his shock. The tree fell backward, pushed by the residual force Jin's blade beams left behind, and in another second its rider would be crushed beneath it. Adrenaline pumped through Pieter, however, as he realized that his doom drew near, and he managed to find his voice. “Autumn!”

Like a swarm of hornets converging on a target, the leaves responded in an instant. They shot toward him, plastering themselves around the man as he fell and pulling him free of the hefty trunk that threatened to pulverize him. Buoying him up with the considerable combined mass of its leaves, Weird Autumn lofted Pieter skyward. As it ascended, its shapeless shoal coalesced into the form of an enormous bird, sans legs but up two additional pairs of wings. As though the assumed body gained a life of its own, Weird Autumn beat those half-dozen wings in rhythm as it began to circle around, Pieter atop its back. Still on edge, and not totally confident in his Stand's ability to keep him out of harm's way, he peered over the edge of its back at the assassin below. The sight of Jin washed away his fear and replaced it with smoldering anger—enough to make it clear that the time for jibes and games had departed. Pieter mimed a slash with his fingers at Jin, and Weird Autumn reeled back before letting fly a volley of leaf-feathers.

Innumerable as stars in the sky, the pinions bombarded Jin's position. Up above, the extraordinary bird beat its wings to keep up the pressure, sending salvo after salvo, but remaining almost stationary as it did. Pieter's glare could be seen even from the ground as he poked his head out, too eager to see the annoying assassin ripped apart.

My Villain Academia - Our World Not Theirs!

I've been sick for the past week so I haven't been posting however is that really all we're going to get right now for this round of posts?

@vancexentan

Well, everyone except Panopticon and Kane has been posted as since your last combat update, and there isn't too much Kane could do anyway so Saarebas' silence is understandable. You didn't say we could control the enemies or the results of our actions ourselves, so we don't have too many options for more posting.

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Azura
Level 1
Day 3
Location: 26th Floor of Tetris Castle, the Reception Hall
Experience: |||||||||| (0/10)

One after another, the other attendees voiced their questions to Vault Boy. They posed him inquiries about Markarth -the beleaguered city to which they would be deployed in the near future-, about lethality, and a handful of other topics, but none ended up concerning Azura more than her own. To her diminutive host's reply she gave a grateful nod of acknowledgment, saying, “49th floor, understood. I will pay them a visit before we depart.”. His usage of the word 'suit', evocative of heavy protective wear, did not thrill her, but she could ill afford to turn down necessary gear that appeared to be free of charge. A gracious guest did not refuse a gift, and even if she happened to dislike the style of clothing offered, the thought of braving an alpine landscape in dancer's garb struck her as singularly idiotic.

By the time that the other questions were dealt with in the same sequential manner as asked, the meeting had grown the air of being over with. Preparing to leave, Azura stood, only to be momentary distracted by another embarrassing exchange from the man on the other side of the enchanted image. How ghastly for that poor woman. I couldn't imagine working with such a flippant combination of immaturity and ego. She remained standing behind her chair as Vault Boy addressed everyone once again, this time with a definite note of finality. As luck would have it, a pertinent tidbit of information came in that package: her solution to Skyrim's cold climate could be found in the same area of the castle as the departure point for the mission. Furthermore, all those involved were to receive a vaccine. Azura sported some familiarity with the word, having heard it in medicinal circles in reference to an altered version of a pathogen that would grant someone injected with it heightened resistance to that pathogen, but Vault Boy mentioned it so casually that she suspected it to be more advanced than the medicines of her world. After all, in her realm remedies for disease and injury often came in the form of magic, and words like 'vaccine' seldom left theoretical circles. Nevertheless, she imagined that this would be necessary. If this Mugen virus posed as much of a threat as she'd been led to believe, Azura needed an immunization to stand half a chance.

-=-=-

“Well, miss? What do you think?”

Azura looked herself over, each movement making her aware of the weight of the cloth. The dress whipped up by the inventors of Floor 49 could just as easily have been a robe or coat, as it combined elements from all three. Simply but effective, with layers engineered to withstand the bite of wind and to deny the entry of snow, it fit very well over her ordinary clothes. Even in the details she could have not asked for better; it worked perfectly with her veil, leaving only her upper face exposed, and the hood sported a slit in the back for her long hair to fall through so as to not bunch up inside. Despite herself, Azura smiled. “It is comfortable. And very warm.” The inventor looked pleased to hear it. Her eagerness almost made the princess bashful. “But isn't it a bit...stark?”

She gestured at the cloth, which appeared white as snow itself. It made her stand out, which in turn made her more uncomfortable than the average person would realize. The inventor, however, shook her head. “The outermost layer is reversible. Inside, it's a light purplish-gray. Perfect for blending into rock, or the dark. While right now it's amazing for disappearing into a snowscape!” She put her hands on her hips, laughing. “I hope I didn't presume too much, but you struck me as someone who doesn't like being the center of attention.

Azura replied with a laugh of her own, albeit a nervous one. Is it that obvious? Closing her eyes, she bowed her head. “Thank you. I know you said that payment isn't required earlier, but for such a nice and warm dress, custom-made so quickly...if there's anything I can do to help you, please don't hesitate to call on me.”

Further words, however, would have to wait. While not egregious, the delay had placed her well behind the rest in terms of mobilization. With as much speed as she could muster without breaking her composure, Azura hastened to the 49th Floor's transport room. There, she hefted her Blessed Lance and strode through the portal to the land of Skyrim, her vaccination performed while she had been waiting.

She arrived just in time to her the President stop speaking. For a brief moment her face gave uncharacteristically full voice to her disbelief, though she reverted to an impartial expression the next instant. Him!? Even now his words dripped with self-absorption and cavalier offhandedness. How are we supposed to get anything done with this buffoon at the helm? She took a deep breath. No matter—she'd suffered through far worse. As much as the thought of singing for him offended her, Azura had a duty to fulfill here. She rested the butt of her lance on the stone, and in a voice colder than the surrounding air, replied, “As you wish, Boss.”

The Crucible - Winner Take All

@Lugubrious
I'm assuming because of the nature of "Kno One". Well dang.

Do I need to change what I had in my post to accommodate or can we assume that the crack is there already and Bonesword just was like "hey Charlie made that"?

@Gardevoiran

You should change your post to have the attack be ineffective.

Either way, it seems like I should have Mountain Dew react to Bonesword's appearance next time I write.

@Lazo

That seems appropriate.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Posted. If I need to change anything let me know. I was unsure of how exactly to handle the situation I'd been given so I went out on a limb.

Hah. Tree pun.

@Gardevoiran

As a matter of fact, 'Moscow Caliber' is immune to ordinary damage at the moment. If you're curious as to why, we can talk in PMs.