Avatar of McFazzer
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    1. McFazzer 10 yrs ago

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This is the old CS that I'll adapt to the format when I have the time. Feel free to look over it if you want, but know that it's subject to change :)


First off, I have no problem using Discord or whatever happens to be the case.

However, regardless if whether Discord is used or not I do think that it's a user's personal choice to use it. I'm not sure about everyone else, but I RP to have fun. If using Discord, or any Chat program really, makes the RP less enjoyable I'm not sure the benefit is worth it. At the very least it shouldn't be mandatory for someone to use it.
Huh, I go to bed when the OOC is just gone up and I come here and there's already three pages of chatting! I forget how fast Naruto OOCs can go :3
I have an old character that can probably be power scaled to whatever level the RP will be at. Since there are OCs I assume custom Kekkei Genkai will be allowed?
Should I take divine pills and open my meridians? Learn movement techniques that can let sweep me through the heavens and transform like a Kun Peng? Master a weapon and I will become like tiger that has grown wings?

... I'm running out of terms... uhh 5 clawed golden dragon and umm... Houtian realm?
@SilverDawn I won't tell if you won't ;)
@Mega Birb He can be subtle, but why bother if the situation doesn't call for it? Or if being blunt is a more effective way to get what you need/want?
Crispin Clean



The sounds of battle died. A familiar stillness settled like a heavy fog as everything became routine. Gather the evidence and any intel you can. Clean up. Well, burn everything to ashes in this instance. Going back to the camps edges, Crispin searched through the smoke and stench for any loose riflemen that may have fallen behind a tree or something. Blade still in hand, Crispin placed the hilt to his throat and the rapier unraveled itself and wrapped around his neck. Picking up the rifleman’s weapon, Crispin quickly disassembled it searching for any manufacturing marks or distinct parts that could lead to a location, or at least a country.

They are all kitted out is identical armour, this suggests an organization. Their weapons are uniform, so they have enough capital to purchase in bulk… or alternatively they are skilled enough to raid either an armoury or manufacturing plant without word spreading. While the former is more likely, the latter should not be discounted at this time. keeping a few of the more delicate pieces of the weapon, parts that would either need to be handcrafted or require specialized machinery in the hopes of tracking them down later, Crispin reassembles the weapon’s outer casing so that it appeared completely functional, then tossing it into a larger patch of fire. Searching the body, it was odd that the soldier’s features were mismatched compared to the compared to the uniform, however the tattoo suggested a black ops unit to Crispin. Dragging the body over to the flames, Crispin stopped when he almost tripped over an axe and an idea struck him. Picking the axe up he changed course and went over to Ferris, expecting her to likely enjoy his suggestion.

“Miss Ferris. Before you go scouting I want to test their weapons. Would you please prop this rifleman up? Maybe against a tree? I would like to decapitate him… I can test the effect on armor on my own. We can say smaller parts burn better if the weapons and test alone doesn't satisfy any queries.” The dead rifleman’s head jostled as Crispin offered the corpse to Ferris, the squelch of internal organs jostling audible for a small distance.

@Lonewolf685
Tommy Sparks



Tommy had a look of disappointment as Akemi used her vines to maneuver him to a 'comfortable' distance. Honestly though Tommy would have been comfortable just continuing to lie on Akemi's vines. Maybe pulling Shuko along with him, after all don't they say... ummm 'something something company is better something something hug everyone'?

Well maybe they don't but Tommy sure says something like that anyway. Words to live by. He was about to grab Shuko and do just that, hopefully making a comfy vine pile hug, when everyone started getting really serious about this 'voting people out' business as if it was some kind of reality show they were on. How could Tommy let such a good hugger like Akemi escape so easily?! This guy isn't Tumble, Tommy wasn't here for lung cancer and he wasn't about to let Marl spoil today for him! Then there was the ear piercing shriek of a challenge to Boro that if Tommy wasn't used to the racket of a Pachinko Parlor he might have been more disoriented. Thankfully Tommy had encountered a smart friend called Shuko to group up with.

"Wooo! You tell him Shuko! You're smart. This guy isn't Tumble, so why do we care what he says! He could say something like 'hugs are the worst' or something and I know that's a lie." Briefly hugging Shuko again Tommy squeezed her before breaking away when Boro began his spiel about 'trusting Tumble'. Rolling his eyes Tommy might talk with, work with or even respect Tumble, but trust? Well, trust is something to be earned. Trust is something more precious than gold. Dashing back to grab his bags of 'winnings' Tommy followed the group as they soon found Tumble 'sprawled out' and 'disheveled' being a polite way of describing her appearance.

"A little decency would be nice. No matter... Who should wake her. One of us girls preferably. A man shouldn't wake a girl in such a perverse state." Shen-Mu's voice broke the silence that filled the air at Tumble's appearance. Her words bringing up a small problem.

"Don't worry pretty voice lady, I've got this. Besides, I don't think Tumble would care and it's not the worst state I've seen someone drink themselves into... HEY! No fair!" seeing Yuki going for Tumble's blouse Tommy saw that he couldn't wait any longer. Not giving anyone else a chance to to react Tommy jumped above the table and 'pulled' on the metal framework of the building, soon Tommy was sliding across the table at a fast pace, occasionally getting airborne as he skimmed, turning his body side on as he moved so that he would fall into Tumble's lap if he reached the end.

@Drifting Pollen @Er0r @HeroicSociopath

Crispin Clean



Bullets whizzed and rattled into the surrounds like deadly hail, chunks of wood splintering through the air. The world turning quiet, the lone soldier firing at the camp checking his gun as no sound was made when fired. Out of the rifleman’s mouth a silent scream as a crimson blade protruded, a nub of flesh falling to the ground as he was freed from this mortal coil. As the rifleman gasped his last, blood flowing down his front staining the uniform red, sound slowly flowed back into reality. Cracking salvos of bullets. Orders shouted. Fires blazing.

The rifleman had died on his feet as the blade still supporting him was tilted, sliding down the length of the blade, the rifleman rolled into the newly lit flame, adding the new scent of cooking human flesh to the rage of battle.

Clean’s form was revealed by firelight, spotless as ever, as his blade gleamed starkly contrasting with his white attire. Flicking his wrist an arc of blood splatter flew off his rapier sizzling and evaporating on the flames. Running to join up with the main group Clean was more than annoyed. He simply went to go get water to wash up after the meal and then on the way there he almost tripped over these soldiers that blocked his way. A surprise attack from the rear might be construed as ‘un-fair’ or something equally unbecoming. Fair? In combat? What a novel idea. Clean was confident with Dumah in his hand he could escape on his lonesome, but that defeated the purpose of a training camp. Plus, escaping an ambush didn’t mean that he could handily fight his way back to civilization, if there were any more parties roaming about, where he could be charged with going AWOL at the very least.

Ambushing soldiers suddenly sprouted throwing blades in their necks and flashes of crimson freed their bodies from having to support their heads. As the hem of his pants were stained increasingly red, Clean picked up the pace just wanting to be out of this battlefield. Seeing a group up ahead Clean smiled slowly, parrying dagger now in his left hand as it grew more crowded and Dumah became slightly more cumbersome. Walking through the smoke and arriving with the group, Clean looked rather distressed as he checked himself for soot and bloodstains.

“Why are we still in this hell hole? We lack fortifications to hold out for a siege and they have dense forest blocking a direct assault, the only benefit we have in this situation is that battle axes aren’t able to make best use of this battlefield. I’d love to not die here, so shall we retreat?”
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