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44 min ago
Current Now running: World of Light - Winterland Daybreak, the Sky Unfettered
1 mo ago
Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
5 mos ago
Forever and ever, amen
9 mos ago
Calling out from Scatman's world
1 like
11 mos ago
Called into action - by threats that seem harmonized

Bio

Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.

Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.

Most Recent Posts

A quiet moment of reassurance passed between Noelle and Heath. They could hear other resort-goers collecting themselves nearby, and once a few more seconds passed they withdrew from their embrace. “Okay,” Heath said, breaking the silence with rationale. “Let's try to figure out what happened. Once we know what's going on, we can try to figure it out.”

Someone else drew near, the portly, bearded fellow who'd been minding one of the beachfront stands. Noelle's first instinct, borne from stress, was to urge him to get away, but she got herself under control People got together in times of uncertainty, of course. Two became three, and then a moment later three became four. The fourth, a muscular man in nothing but swimming trunks, Noelle remembered as the guy who'd bumped into some girl by the stairs. The bearded man wasted no time in striking up conversation.

“So, uh, hey there. Interesting turn of events, huh? I mean, talk about crazy. What in the world was that? Where are we? No signs of civilization, but I can see bits and pieces of Otterholt Point scattered about. It's like that storm picked up the whole resort and scattered it around, maybe across this whole island. At least, I think it's an island. Like a deserted island, the type you'd see in a movie. Like that one with Tom Hanks? Anyway, it sounded like your kids are gone. I saw the whole thing go down on the beach. We should band together to make sure everyone's okay. We also have to make plans in case this place really is deserted. First things first, in a survival situation...”

Noelle wasn't facing him. She took a look around to see if anyone else was about, but saw nobody except another small cluster of people a couple hundred feet away and then two of the Texan frat boys down by the water, trying to wash the sand out of their faces, a man closer to the jungle, and an older woman sitting against some driftwood. In that first group Noelle recognized the sword girl, the bratty girl, and the very same notebook-bearing girl who accidentally ran afoul of Mr. Muscles. There were two boys too, but Noelle didn't recall seeing them before.

At the moment, one of the boys watched as Jessica tried to downplay her crying, unimpressed a little saddened. Haywood had been sitting and watching her the whole time, and if that wasn't full-blown, from-the-heart bawling, he didn't know what was. Maybe panic got to her or something. Come to think of it, why wasn't he panicking? Haywood thought about it. Remote island, opportunity for adventure, nobody that he was worried about getting hurt -if he was fine, surely his buds were too-, and no authority to get in his way. There didn't seem to be any way off this island, but he felt pretty sure that rescue would come eventually. It was a big place, probably full of resources that he could use to get by, and the coast guard or something could track the storm's path to find our where all the missing people were. But maybe Jessica hadn't reached the same conclusion he did.

“Easy, Mad Dog,” Haywood assured her, helping to get her to her feet. Given her size he didn't need to struggle to support her weight. He glanced between Aurora, Penny, and Jude. “She's fine, just a little excited. In no time at all we'll be running rampant over this paradise...” he suddenly pivoted, trying to turn off the 'blaster' persona. “Or something. Hey, any of you know what the hell happened?”

Noelle wondered that herself. She turned her attention back to the group as the beardman's own hypothesis got cut off by the strongman. “Yeah, it was an epithet for sure,” he confirmed. “I was in the water when the storm kicked off, and it came out from the spot where you saw the glow. Could've been an epitome.”

Heath frowned. “Epitome? Like...a super-epithet?”

“Kind of. In a life-or-death situation, someone can manifest an epitome, the absolute use of their epithet. Only something like that could dump a whole resort on an island somewhere.“ He glanced around to see if anyone else could offer a better idea. Nobody could. “Given the circumstances, if we're gonna work together, we should get on a first-name basis. I'll start.” Crossing his arms, he held his head up high. “Roscoe Lafayette. Former wrestler, current boxer. My epithet's Oceanic.”

Heath spoke up next, going into more detail to be of more help. “Heath Pieler. My epithet's Jingle. I can repeat sounds and keep things from being forgotten.”

“I'm Noelle. Noelle Pieler” Noelle said, adjusting her glasses. Honestly, it was a miracle she still had them, having found them lying just a little twisted under her when she awoke. “My epithet's Train. I'm able to boost forward, carry people, and heat up from eating fuel.”

The last man looked excited. “Well hey, aren't we a regular bunch of inscribed?” he remarked. “The name's Harry Hedlon, I work at Diversion. The epithet I've got is Sect. I can bring out these little clerics that can cast miracles, like in Dungeons and Dragons. Healing, banishing other inscribed's summons, de-eviling...you name it, we got it.”

“What about them?” Heath said, pointing down the beach.

The group of adults looked at the group kids. “Plan first,” Noelle said, thinking of the pigtailed blonde girl. “It's hard enough to get kids to listen anyways, especially teens. If we don't have a solid plan, they'll brush us off and do their own thing. Might anyway.”

Roscoe nodded, finding that sensible. As it happened, he'd already been thinking. “'Cause of my epithet, I've got a lot of experience with oceans, and I'm a real good swimmer. I could swim out to try and find help, but I need to know I'm going in the right direction. So if you see any seabirds, check which direction they come from. That'll be the direction of land, close enough for me to reach.”

Simultaneously Heath and Noelle objected, but Noelle let Heath go ahead. “We've gotta find Tuck and Lucy. That comes first for us,” he insisted.

“Oh, that's okay. Very understandable. I can keep watch for birds,” Harry offered. “We should find a spot to set up camp, like I was saying earlier. Try and make some tools from sticks and rocks, and set up something to catch rainwater or try to find a spring. That's the stuff they do on TV shows. If you don't get a supply of fresh water, you're first off the island, every time!”

One of the Texans walked up. His friend had gone to talk to the old lady. “Howdy folks,” he said. “Sounds like y'all're keepin' your heads and makin' plans over here. Name's Mike Carmichael. Anything I can do to help?”

Harry was only too happy to fill him in. Noelle, meanwhile, volunteered to go over to the teen cluster while Heath went over to check out the beach hut. She approached with a concerned look on her face and tread familiar ground conversation-wise. “Hi, kids. Are you all alright?”
As a heads-up, I would like to move us ahead tomorrow evening, roughly 30 hours from the time I'm posting this.
This was one insistent dude. He just wouldn't stop standing there, listing out his points nice and neat and one by one, wearing a bizarrely conflicting expression the whole time. Haywood and Jessica weren't buying what Mark was selling. He existed as another in a long line of adults thinking he knew what was best for them, but he thought wrong, and without their respect nor the teeth to back his argument up his words were worthless. Just as Jessica did when confronted with that auburn-haired teacher, Haywood knew that adults had to follow the rules, so Mark couldn't do anything to make his words stick. And Haywood was only too happy to let him know.

“My choice, huh?” He swelled up, poised to say something amazingly cool. “Alright, here it is. You can suck a fart outta my ass, how 'bout that?” Haywood laughed, pushing off the rock. “But seriously, keep botherin' us and you'll get nice and acquainted with that officer over there, just like my pal says. Inscribed on mundie harassment, never looks good.”

He started stalking down the beach at a steady pace with his hands in the pockets of his swimming trunks, trusting Jessica to follow him. This time he made sure via visual confirmation that Mark wasn't on their tail. “Jeez,” he said once in the clear. “What a riot. I tell ya, some inscribed are so pushy. Like havin' some tacky trick makes you important.” Haywood ended up looking at a commotion in the surf on the other side of the glorified bouncy castle called the Floating City. “Some kid drownin'...?” he asked.

The salt water stung, but Noelle kept her eyes wide open as she plunged underneath. Her heart beat like a prizefighter, filling her veins with adrenaline. Between her, Heath, and Lydia, no sign of Tucker could be found above the surface. Her realization of the only alternative filled her with terrible dread. Her son was already beneath the water.

She tore through the shallows as fast as her muscled could take her, struggling against the resisting water. Without firm footing she couldn't effectively use her own epithet to move faster, and with nothing on hand to build up heat with she couldn't amass enough strength to compensate. The coolness of the ocean would have doused her fire, anyway. After almost blacking out from holding her breath Noelle broke the surface, gasping for air. She looked left and right, her soaked hair whipping around, but saw nothing, not even the cloud rolling in. Where was the lifeguard!? her mind screamed. She spotted Heath instead, and shrieked at him, “Where is he!?”

At that moment, there came a tremendous cracking sound, like a fracture in the earth. A wave of current hit Noelle, washing her back, but it didn't come from the sea. It radiated out from a source beneath the surface fifty feet away, and as the cloud cover began to darken the sky she could see something glowing under there. “Tucker?!” Noelle rushed in its directing, thinking of nothing but her boy. The water around the light started to boil, and she watched it grow frothier and angrier as something rose to the surface. The wind whipped across the top of the water, slinging stinging spray, and lightning flashed overhead. A voice, deep and unfamiliar, bellowed above the wind.

“He's gonna blow!”

Then came the thunder.

Noelle didn't know what happened. One moment she was in the water, swimming with exhausted muscles toward where her son was about to die, and the next a wall of wind slammed her in the face. The cyclone expanded as a sphere from the epicenter, sweeping up sea, sand, towel, chair, shop, and stone, and dozens of people with them. Everything was chaos, bodily punches of water and debris, calamitous wind and terrific cacophony. The gale devoured everything, and shortly after, everything went black.

Act I – Oceanic





Act II – Castaway


The sun crept into the darkness, like early morning rays filtering through blinds to intrude upon the eyelids of someone trying to sleep in. Oblivion felt nice and comfortable, and Noelle didn't want to wake up and face another day. Hard to believe her vacation was over already...could days really pass that quickly? For a brief time, she'd enjoyed peace and relaxation. Her, Heath, Lucy, and...and...

Noelle's eyes shot open. Tucker.

She sat up with a gasp. Everything came flooding back. She had to find Tucker. He was...drowning. About to be lost at sea. Then...it all got dark...a sudden storm...

Noelle blinked, looking around. Where was she?

She sat on a beach, but not the beach she knew. Yellow sand stretched out on either side of her, and gentle waves lapped at her legs. The beach sloped downward, and there was no end in sight in either direction. From her position the coast curved in a rough crescent shape, totally unlike the one she knew. When Noelle turned to look behind her, she found lush green vegetation, shrubs and palm trees. Large rock formations started to pile up, the land trending steadily upward. She could see enormous pillars of stone towering above the jungle. Getting shakily to her feet, she took in her surroundings. She stood in totally unfamiliar land.

Well, not totally unfamiliar. She saw one of the resort's beach huts lying on its side, carelessly thrown there. Now that she got another look, a number of items that might have been at Otterholt lay strewn on the beach. And some people, too. Her eyes landed on one, and she sprinted over. “Heath!” She knelt by his side, trying to shove him awake. “Heath, get up!”

After a few moments he started to stir, and a couple seconds after that he opened his eyes. “Ohhh...Noelle? What happened?”

His wife looked around again. Nearby, some of the others were getting up too. “I don't know,” she said, tormented. “We were looking for Tucker, and then this storm hit out of nowhere.”

“Tucker...” Heath sat up, groaning. “Oh God. Is he here?”

Noelle had been looking. She shook her head. “Not here...but he has to be somewhere. But I have no idea where we are.” An unknown island, a spotless horizon. No civilization in sight, just a portion of what must be the wreckage of Otterholt Point. Baffled and anxious, Noelle breathed anything but easy. “And where...where's Lucy? Oh...oh no...”

“Calm down,” urged Heath, as he hugged her tight. “We're okay. We can figure this out and find our kids.” But he was worried too. For all he knew, whatever happened had stranded his family on an uncharted island.

Making a giant flesh mech sounds like fun. Graft would be interested, should he come by an abundance of resource.
I hope you enjoy my application.

I've been hoping to find one. Count me in.
aand that should work. Ms. Tickles is on the case!


It seems like you had Light save Rodias from his couch. Were you aware Talim has already attempted to spirit Rodias away?
Wearing a gleeful look, Haywood listened intently to Jessica's explanation. Of course, it made perfect sense! Nothing ever went down at tourist spots or resorts. When someone thought crimes, they thought of banks, offices, pawn shops, and convenience stores, as Jessica so helpfully proved. That bearded guard, standing there and scratching off the personal information of that goody two-shoes and the white knights, probably constituted half of the security force here. Once someone scouted it out, it'd make for the perfect hit! “Smart move!” he remarked before snickering. “And sending the captain out too, instead of someone a little...more discreet.” The sandcastle incident came to mind. “Interesting. Wish my captain took the initiative. She's too busy getting her hair done off our fees to actually take charge.”

She went on to ask if he and his friends brought their uniforms, which he brushed off. “Pssh! Please, what are we, amateurs? Course we did! Never know when you gotta blast!”

His show of confidence came to an abrupt end as Mark spoke up behind the two, causing Haywood to leap in the air in fright. “Gah!” he cried, before blushing with embarrassment as he hurried to compose himself. “I mean, gaah...gah ha! I thought I heard someone minding other peoples' business!” Motioning for Jessica to keep it cool, he crossed his arms and treated Mark to a derisive smirk. “Who're you calling bad? You seen too many superhero movies?” A brief moment of silence struck as he seemed to come to a revelation, after which he burst out in a fit of giggles. “Bahahaha! What, you thought we were serious? Just kiddin' around, dooood.” He really enunciated the word, trying to make the intruding adult feel and look the fool. “You've got nothing on us, mister superhero. Just a couple kids goofing off on vacation.” Haywood glanced at his new friend for confirmation. “Isn't that right?”
It's not that Graft just decided to deprive those three. He doesn't know which Mamoru is the real one, only that there are so many that he would max out Open Line and cause himself mana burn before reaching them all, so he contacted none of them in favor of making sure everyone else got one. He knows that Charme's domain blocks skills like Open Line and didn't know she was out, so he didn't try contacting her. And since Open Line only works on those who are explicitly (not just technically) his allies, which in the New World is a culmination of several mental considerations and factors both giving and receiving, he couldn't contact Chuunitrixx.

Tabula and Papillary are also following orders and going to Climax Hour.
The Team Lead wasn't actually outside and only knew about Chuunitrixx firing. Graft can't actively see what the TL sees, and can only get information through reports. The TL, of course, only obeys his orders. Graft wouldn't know to tell TL to get Rodias out, and TL wouldn't do it on his own. So that's why.
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