McFazzer

♦ A New Era ♦ - A My Hero Academia RP

@Riegal

Nice to see you too! Given the current character balance though, Tommy might become Toni :P
(And maybe the quirk may be a quirkier one... still debating that one)

♦ A New Era ♦ - A My Hero Academia RP

@Riegal Hi stranger. Fancy seeing you here

♦ A New Era ♦ - A My Hero Academia RP

I'd like to offer up interest. I do look forward to playing in a world where the right thing can be done simply because it's the right thing.

War Notes

@KoL It is Clean being stupid, that was the idea. Clean's biased and probably isn't a good person really. I understand Princess, Clean's just an asshole. I'll try to be better with him moving forwards :)

War Notes

Crispin Clean

Watching the sergeant slink off... disdain, contempt and disgust simply filled Clean, making him feel anything but. Straightening his tie and grimacing he seriously considered stabbing the sergeant in the back, but that would simply get messy. Probably a court marshaling, being discharged before even getting beyond being a cadet and then executed. Letting himself simmer in his disgust, Clean clenched his teeth and a vein in his neck bulged. As he imagined the head fly off the sergeant's shoulders... he could swear he saw the mismatched girl bending out of the way almost as if she were made from rubber.

Hmm... a suppose a strong opponent is something hard to get out of your head, flexibility like that... how should I deal with it? he got stuck in his own head fighting a ghost... a memory... it was maddening. Before falling into a state Clean stalked off ignoring those around him, even the one that was the whole reason for him intervening. This whole place is filthy. Watching dust settle and moving into the mess hall, Clean saw the aftermath of Leblanc's intervention. It looked rather standard for her, either a bruised body or ego for everyone but her. Then there was a tone of voice.

Imperious. Brooking no argument. A tone he knew well, it's nobility. Even in his head the word dripped with vitriol. Inherited positions led to complacency. It's easy to look down and give orders if you have laurels to rest on. To prevent an outburst, Clean pivoted on his heel and leaned against the wall outside and listened in.

Hmph, look at me letting personal bias cloud my judgement. shaking his head is deprecation, Clean listened to the marching orders given by her majesty. The village. It caused conflicting emotions, he hated this fort, but he also hated that nobility was kicking out not only him, but also the wounded from Arcadia, forcing the burden on the local population. Still, nobility aren't the class mere cadets or even a captain can disobey without good reason. Entering the room Clean pointedly ignored the princess and saluted his captain.

"Cadet Crispin Clean will gather what supplies we have left and will attempt to assist the Arcadian troops in finding proper accommodations within the village proper for their wounded."

@KoL

War Notes

Crispin Clean

Relaxation. It was an odd concept after recent events. Everything rushing and colliding until it all screeched to a halt. Debriefs and analysis of gathered information that thankfully Clean was able to avoid being a part of, the only thing of note really being that he encountered the mismatched girl that tried to abduct Althea and failed to capture her due to what could only be called abnormal flexibility. The kick was something else as well, her strength had to be at least equal to his own swing of the axe to be able to knock it from his grip so easily and it was all a reaction to an unexpected situation from her.

“Well, since I can’t seem to get this mismatched girl out of my head I’ll have to just capture her.” Soldiers moved past and kicked up dust causing Clean to frown and move of the road and onto the cobblestone path that led to lodgings. Rounding the corner there were his comrades trying to talk down a well-built soldier and too many soldiers in need of medical attention. The commotion had obviously brought everyone’s attention and quickly heard the Sergeant’s words from mingling stationed soldiers. Walking towards the soldier from behind, Clean looked him over and let his imagination take hold, his blade hamstringing the soldier quickly enough that he’d only feel a cool breeze brushing him, before collapsing to the ground as his legs gave way and writhing in what would probably be immense pain and the blood would pool and drain through the cracks in the earth… it would require immediate medical attention and the soldiers at the gates would no doubt also be treated once the medical staff were made aware.

“Nope, can’t do that. Court martial would be the result if I’m lucky. I need justifiable self-defence as a safety net first. Better not make a mess out of this.” Staring disdainfully at the ‘Sergeant’ Clean moved over towards the stricken girl.

“You don’t have to ‘play bitch’ to Aquaria. You’re obligated to play nursemaid and get soldiers proper medical attention. Your failure to comply will be reason enough for Aquaria to dissolve any direct trade routes to, from or even through this area. Justifications such as ‘the soldiers stationed there can’t be trusted to protect us’ will be made.” Letting his words sink in, Clean stared the Sergeant in the eyes, his icy blue eyes seeming all the colder with every word.

“Everyone here has seen your actions and you will most definitely be offered up as the sacrificial lamb to appease those dissatisfied and you’re nothing but a fool if you think you can keep this from getting out. The wounded are no doubt going to hold a grudge for one. Not to mention you’ve struck a soldier from Aquaria. If this reaches the wrong ears I’m sure execution would be the least of your worries. So, how about you perform your duty sergeant?” The rank simply dripping with sarcasm, Clean barely managing to keep his poker face, let a mocking smile tug at the corner of his lip never fully forming. If the Sergeant lost his temper again Clean would gladly match anything he dished out.

@KoL

War Notes

Crispin Clean

Clean was a logical person and pragmatic. The bad pun wasn't just spur of the moment. The words were to remove her direct attention from Althea while he followed up with a clubbing to the ribs, leaving her gasping for breath while the force of the blow knocked her to the ground where she could then be pinned. Instead the swift kick from the girl’s steel boots, with flexibility that was almost inhuman, tore the axe from his grip and into the white powdery snow.

"What on earth?" was all he could manage at the bizarre scenario that he took part of. Seeing the toothy grin, Clean raised an eyebrow and instead of diving for the axe again pushed up his sleeves and cracked his knuckles, leaving his whole attention on the girl in front of him. Leaning down with one eye shut tight as he was in something akin to a runner’s start, Clean took aim at her waiting for a sign and a gap between slashes from Mercy.

CRACK. FLASH.

Althea set off a blinding light reflected off of the mirror like white snow, closing his blinded eye and opening the closed eye, Clean launched himself at the mismatched girl with arms outstretched, hoping to grapple her to the ground, leaving her incapacitated.

Deep Ground Online (Hiatus)

Unrelenting Jukebox

EXP: 84,700

The aftermath of a heist. The getaway. Often the scene of a thrilling highspeed chase away from authorities and either through sheer speed and skill or clever deception, the thief makes his escape… The lack of thrilling pursuit left Jukebox a bit disappointed, but not very. He completed his quest and got some EXP. It was going to be a long night. The Faded City had four radiant locations for heists scattered throughout the city for the repeatable quest. Once you gathered the requisite reputation with the NPCs you could then be assigned the quest. It wasn’t a bad quest all things considered. There wasn’t much of an EXP reward but the gems were nice accessories to be sold and the quests themselves were often multistage before the heist…

Looking at his messages as he followed the map marker to the next location, Jukebox looked sadly at the ever-increasing amount of unread mail. He knew what they were. Updates. Battle reports. Requests for locations. All from the Green Guild. It was a joke, he was a Joke-box. Waging war, it’s supposed to be natural. Shifting alliances, plotting double crosses within double crosses while crossing your fingers behind your back to make sure that by the time it all ended, you were on top. He hated that. It wasn’t entirely a lie when he said he was just playing the game. He was fulfilling a quest, getting loot, working to level up. But it was now different for him. Before it was etching out a way to survive later in life. Now he was doing it as escapism from the reality this war brought.

An alliance with the White Guild? Well, that seemed like another Sunday for the shifting world of DGO. This however felt completely different. It was nothing he could directly point to and say “Look, here! This is wrong, this is different!” it was a vague sense of authenticity. That Verdant Grin wasn’t plotting to strike the White Guild when their backs were turned as would be normal. It felt like a genuine long-term alliance and Jukebox… Alex wanted nothing to do with that alliance. Normally it simply told him which colours to look out for out in the wide world. Now it was who would hunt him to the ends of the earth.

So, Jukebox stocked up on identity hiding items under the pretence of questing… then it slowly became legitimate. Ironically the perfect way to hide from war was to play the game. Then he subconsciously used his anonymity while questing to sow discord within ranks of the White Guild. As a white spectre, hiding his face and attacking players of guilds, sending lynch mobs after White Guild players as they sought ‘revenge’. Then in the name of questing he accidentally attacked one of his own Guild members. And didn’t feel a thing. No remorse. No regret. Jukebox wore the colours, but wasn’t one of them. Maybe he never was. So, the tiny pockets of strife that cropped up due to his actions… it was satisfying in a way. It vented his frustrations at the war at how this was no longer the DGO he was familiar with.

Clashing of weapons and faint echoes of witty repartee broke Jukebox out of his lamentations, how long since genuine conflict that wasn’t solely war related like this rang in his ears. No one talked like that in his experience. Not anymore. Now it was all serious business. It was slightly off course, but it was almost a siren song bringing a grin to his face.



Sound rang out from his chest, putting a spring in his step. As he approached he equipped his LAPD 2019 Blaster, the twin triggers of the gun feeling uniquely comfortable to him. Rounding the corner, he saw the two fighters, glimpsing their names he saw a Butterfly and a Tiger.

“I stumbled across a zoo fight~♪” legitimate joy in his voice, it was all Jukebox could do to not dive into the fray.

“Don’t mind me, I’m here to admire you two~!” the fingers on the triggers belaying his excitement at wanting to join, eying his health and seeing he was almost completely healed from his questing, tensed like Rampaging Tiger’s namesake ready to pounce. He had no idea what had come over him honestly. He was questing and causing mischief within the White Guild by cosplaying as them, he gained nothing by joining in, but he was at this moment, happy.

Deep Ground Online (Hiatus)

@KoL @TheWindel And to anyone else who wants to read or cares to read.

I have been a disappointment up until this moment. I am sorry. Words may mean little at this stage, but even if no one reads it, I want to... well let's call it a rant.

I am still invested in this story and wish to continue participating in it. I want to see it continue. I enjoy Alex and Jukebox and would wish to continue playing as them. I like the story that can be told in this world and want to see it continue as I have some idea as to the direction it is headed and it excites me.

I agree with the potential that I have squandered and don't want to see the relationships however tenuous or just plain fictional that no one else may care about fade to nothing. Because I do care. It may not seem like it as I rarely if ever interact in the OOC, but I do. I care about this RP. It's the one that got me to stick around the Guild. You can call it trite or saccharine or even not believe me, but I do.

I don't want DGO to fail, I don't want this RP die.

/end rant of the Goddamn Iris

War Notes

Crispin Clean

That was a disappointment. Although he’d never let it show He though Ferris would have stuck around to enjoy herself a bit. With a sigh, Clean kept hold of the axe and instead tossed the body of the dead soldier onto the flame, letting the pyre cremate the corpse. Smiling as Ferris vanished into the night, Clean fell in with the rest of the troops. He would have followed Ferris, but he knew he would be holding her back. Bright white clothes and a distaste for dirt? Never has there been a person less suited to a scouting position.

The sound of dirt and snow cracking under heel, he followed. Leading was unnatural. It is fine to stand out, but having pressure of those behind you and so many of them, responsibility such as that would be crushing. Good soldier. Marching in line following the well-trodden path of others. Safe. Easy. Comfortable.

"G-g-g-g-ghosts!”

A shriek pierced the air. Spectre of Death coming for them? What a bad omen. Picking up the pace, Clean saw the ‘ghost’. Miscoloured hair and clothes and grabbing at the mask of the resident medic. Bad omen indeed. Then they vanished into the blizzard. Off the beaten path he will go.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. Snow crushed as he ran off in hot pursuit of the stolen medic. Enemy axe in hand thoughts ran through his head, how should her extricate the medic from the mysterious woman’s grasp? How violent would he need to get? The woman was eccentric and after having just encountered an enemy, Clean could only think she was hostile. Better err on the side of violence then, just to be safe. Flashes of colours and blurred forms were ahead and Althea’s voice called out loudly over the frigid wind. Arriving behind the mismatched girl holding the medic hostage he called out in a polite voice.

“Pardon me miss, but I must axe you a question regarding our medic you have there.” Bad pun aside, Clean swung the blunt edge of the axe like a club into the side of the ‘ghost’ aiming to knock the wind out of her sails more than anything else, carefully avoiding the ribs to avoid any bones splintering into lungs. On the plus side, they have a medic right there.

@DracoLunaris@TheWindel