Megsychan

Of Crosses and Collapses: A Crossover Adventure of Survival on a Patchwork World.

El Presidente

British Officer: Seriously, you are without a doubt, the worst dictator I have ever heard of.
El Presidente: But you have heard of me!

[300+| Human | Tropico, Republic of Tropico | Male]

APPEARANCE, PERSONALITY, & BACKGROUND

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

El Presidente is the president of the world's smallest nation, but that doesn't stop him from trying to look like he comes from a nation that actually matters. El Presidente stands at an average height for a fully grown man, with a downright fat build (but call him a fatty at your own risk!) His olive skin, often tanned through the heat in his island nation, is complimented by a full black beard and mustache. El Presidente's brown eyes are usually obscured by a pair of sunglasses he never takes off, not even indoors (it's part of his image!)

His outfit screams his old profession. A military dress uniform, complete with a matching cap, shows off his impressive power as the de facto dictator of Tropico. At first he wore green, but El Presidente decided to change to black later on in his presidency. There was a brief stint where he considered switching to white (as the image above depicts) due to being more comfortable in the Tropican climate, but he later changed back to black because black hid his fat better was more imposing. El Presidente also has a pistol, a Tokarev, which he keeps in a holster to once again show off his authority. Finally, El Presidente's brand is completed with a Tropican-made cigar in his mouth, one of his nation's chief exports.

PERSONALITY ASPECTS

* Strangely charismatic
* Slightly eccentric
* Jovial demenour
* Natural-born schemer
* Self-centered morality, doesn't care about things except in relationship to himself and his own interests
* No real sense of right or wrong
* Prideful
* Vengeful
* Bombastic


BACKGROUND INFORMATION

El Presidente is synonymous with the island of Tropico itself, situated in the serene Caribbean ocean. The island, originally settled by pirates as a safe harbor to rest after spending time on the high seas. The man who established Tropico, a Spanish pirate famously tortured by the English, known simply as El Rey Pirata, is rumored to be El Presidente himself (putting his age closer to 500 years old instead of the current 300). At the very least, he is most likely an ancestor for El Presidente, given their strangely similar looks. The Spanish Empire seized the islands sometime in the 1600s, displacing EL Rey Pirata and his pirate and resettling the island with mestizos across the Caribbean. Britain would seize the island only about a hundred years later, incoperating Tropico into their empire. In order to prevent any discontent on the island, they offered the position of Governor-General to the first Tropican to respond to their job offer. An eccentric man only known as "El Presidente" took up their offer.

Of course, El Presidente immediately went to work (re)turning the island into a personal fiefdom for his own enrichment. He continuously embezzled state funding, used technicalities and favors to continuously extend his mandate for as long as possible, and made any British investigator that pried too close to his illegal activities disappear. As the British Empire in the 1800s was looking away from the New World and into Asia and Africa, El Presidente used their waning interest in policing their Carribean territories to declare independence. The British sent a small contingent of Royal Marines in an attempt to arrest El Presidente, but after being defeated on the beaches, Queen Victoria allegedly shrugged and asked instead if they were interested in a trade agreement instead.

With Tropican independence secured, El Presidente's first hundred years of reign went on realtively uneventful, as every world power ignored the tiny island to pursue their empire building. The outbreak of the First World War changed everything. Suddenly, both Britain and Germany were competing with each other to get Tropico to send resources to a particular side. Tropico remained officially neutral, but experts noted that Tropico seemed to have fulfilled more trade requests from Germany rather than Britain. A bit due to already producing what the Germans wanted, a bit simply as one last screw you to the British.

World War II was a different story, however. As the Tropican relationships with Germany grew, and the Nazis facing near total collapse by 1945, Tropico officially declared for the Axis. El Presidente sent his trusted advisor, Penultimo, and a unit of Tropican soldiers, to Germany in order to help crush the encircled airborne units in the Ardennes. After brutal fighting in the snow, the representative of the Allied Powers personally went to El Presidente to thank Tropico for their invaluable help in helping the utter destruction of German troops. The Tropican delegation was so terrible, ill-prepared, and mismanaged, that many historians blame Tropico for single-handingly losing the battle for Germany. Nazi leaders fled to Tropico once it became apparent they lost the war, and an Anglo-American join task force attempted to bring El Presidente to justice. However, they landed at the same beach that the British landed on nearly one hundred-fifty years prior, now built up with lots of fortifications. Tropico celebrated a decisive victory, and Queen Elizabeth simply shrugged her shoulders and once again asked if Tropico were interested in a new trade agreement. America too lost interest, despite Tropico practically being in their backyard.

El Presidente, however, was humbled by the experience. No more would he ever declare for a single "side", as that almost ruined his nice little empire. Instead, as the Cold War kicked in with the 1950s, El Presidente played both the Americans and the Soviets against each other as he continuously grew rich from fulfilling both of their demands. Both superpowers never even realized how deceptive El Presidente was in keeping both powers happy, pretending to be socialist or capitalist wherever it was the most convenient. El Presidente's bank account grew to enormous numbers as he continued to embezzle funds from as many sources he could get his greedy hands on.

Things started to go weird around the 90s. The Soviet Union never fell, and the Cold War continued well into the 2010s. The EU, the Arab Leauge, and the People's Republic of China all became superpowers in their own right, not quite to the tier of the USA or USSR, but strong enough to attempt to exert influence on Tropico. El Presidente included all three into his Great Game, but even as he was smart in keeping all five happy in Tropico, it became clear that geopolitics at large was never meant to accommodate this many superpowers. By the 2010s, El Presidente was greeted with a bright flash and a mushroom cloud: some dispute in Ukraine or whatever simply escalated too far, and someone had beef with El Presidente. Probably those damn British. El Presidente hated the British. Always had.

As El Presidente was consumed by the inferno, he didn't die. No, worse. He found himself in some sort of desert, away from his beautiful palace and tropical paradise. Seperated from his swiss bank account, now El Presidente has to rebuild everything from scratch.

CHARACTER CAPABILITIES

~SKILLS~

Cult of Personality: If there is one thing El Presidente is good at, it's yelling into the microphone and sounding utterly convincing. Tropico has survived two invasions and a Cold War, not to mention various rebel groups, through El Presidente's sheer charisma and demagoguery. El Presidente knows what strings to pull, what sells well to a person or group of people, and can get people to easily do his bidding, while making them seem in control.

Financial Vision: If there is a way for something to make money, especially a personal profit, El Presidente knows how. Particularly if it involves embezzling, his favorite activity.

~SPECIAL ABILITIES~

Besides unexplained biological immortality (effectively ageless), El Presidente is no different from any other regular human being, and thus has no magical ability

~Perks~

Swiss Bank Accounts: El Presidente's slush fund is magical. Anytime the timeline in his own universe was disrupted, the amount of money that was in the overseas banks would stay. Thus, El Presidente was able to amass a personal fortune in various banks all across the tax havens of the world. This remains true even in this universe; those funds still managed to cross over, although none of it is currently in his possession. However, El Presidente is certain that, if he puts the effort to search for it, he could probably find areas where parts of his fortune are stored.

~Faults~

Nicotine Addiction: That American gangster movie that El Presidente liked to watch, Scarface he thinks it was called, said the most important rule to the drug trade was to never get high on your own supply. Much like Tony, El Presidente ignored that warning, chomping on the finest cigars made on this planet Earth: his own country's. While this didn't lead to his death via shootout, he is now addicted to Nicotine, and there is only so-much cigars a person can carry on their own.

~Weaknesses~

El Presidente is a leader, not a fighter. While he can shoot down the average mook with his pistol, he is used to having an army fighting for (and with! El Presidente is certainly no coward, mind you) him. He can get overwhelmed very quickly by numbers, and he doesn't have the personal strength to deal with named characters. El Presidente prefers to fight with words, not bullets.

After a certain time without having nicotine or tobacco of some kind, El Presidente will go into withdraw. When he does, Cross will roll on a special little table and a number of things will happen that he'll have to contend with. They can range from silly, to strange, to worryingly dangerous. It'll be fun!!!

INVENTORY & EQUIPMENT

~STARTING EQUIPMENT~

* Dictator clothes and hat, to make him look imposing and regal
* A Soviet TT-30 pistol with 2 mags of 8 bullets each
* A ten-pack of the finest Tropican cigars (10/10)
* Nuclear detonator (Broken)


~CURRENTLY EQUIPPED GEAR~

* Clothes
* TT-30

~INVENTORY~

See above

MEDALS AND ACCOLADES

EXTRA

VOTE EL PRESIDENTE OR ELSE

Of Crosses and Collapses: A Crossover Adventure of Survival on a Patchwork World.

El Presidente

British Officer: Seriously, you are without a doubt, the worst dictator I have ever heard of.
El Presidente: But you have heard of me!

[300+| Human | Tropico, Republic of Tropico | Male]

APPEARANCE, PERSONALITY, & BACKGROUND

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

El Presidente is the president of the world's smallest nation, but that doesn't stop him from trying to look like he comes from a nation that actually matters. El Presidente stands at an average height for a fully grown man, with a downright fat build (but call him a fatty at your own risk!) His olive skin, often tanned through the heat in his island nation, is complimented by a full black beard and mustache. El Presidente's brown eyes are usually obscured by a pair of sunglasses he never takes off, not even indoors (it's part of his image!)

His outfit screams his old profession. A military dress uniform, complete with a matching cap, shows off his impressive power as the de facto dictator of Tropico. At first he wore green, but El Presidente decided to change to black later on in his presidency. There was a brief stint where he considered switching to white (as the image above depicts) due to being more comfortable in the Tropican climate, but he later changed back to black because black hid his fat better was more imposing. El Presidente also has a pistol, a Tokarev, which he keeps in a holster to once again show off his authority. Finally, El Presidente's brand is completed with a Tropican-made cigar in his mouth, one of his nation's chief exports.

PERSONALITY ASPECTS

* Strangely charismatic
* Slightly eccentric
* Jovial demenour
* Natural-born schemer
* Self-centered morality, doesn't care about things except in relationship to himself and his own interests
* No real sense of right or wrong
* Prideful
* Vengeful
* Bombastic


BACKGROUND INFORMATION

El Presidente is synonymous with the island of Tropico itself, situated in the serene Caribbean ocean. The island, originally settled by pirates as a safe harbor to rest after spending time on the high seas. The man who established Tropico, a Spanish pirate famously tortured by the English, known simply as El Rey Pirata, is rumored to be El Presidente himself (putting his age closer to 500 years old instead of the current 300). At the very least, he is most likely an ancestor for El Presidente, given their strangely similar looks. The Spanish Empire seized the islands sometime in the 1600s, displacing EL Rey Pirata and his pirate and resettling the island with mestizos across the Caribbean. Britain would seize the island only about a hundred years later, incoperating Tropico into their empire. In order to prevent any discontent on the island, they offered the position of Governor-General to the first Tropican to respond to their job offer. An eccentric man only known as "El Presidente" took up their offer.

Of course, El Presidente immediately went to work (re)turning the island into a personal fiefdom for his own enrichment. He continuously embezzled state funding, used technicalities and favors to continuously extend his mandate for as long as possible, and made any British investigator that pried too close to his illegal activities disappear. As the British Empire in the 1800s was looking away from the New World and into Asia and Africa, El Presidente used their waning interest in policing their Carribean territories to declare independence. The British sent a small contingent of Royal Marines in an attempt to arrest El Presidente, but after being defeated on the beaches, Queen Victoria allegedly shrugged and asked instead if they were interested in a trade agreement instead.

With Tropican independence secured, El Presidente's first hundred years of reign went on realtively uneventful, as every world power ignored the tiny island to pursue their empire building. The outbreak of the First World War changed everything. Suddenly, both Britain and Germany were competing with each other to get Tropico to send resources to a particular side. Tropico remained officially neutral, but experts noted that Tropico seemed to have fulfilled more trade requests from Germany rather than Britain. A bit due to already producing what the Germans wanted, a bit simply as one last screw you to the British.

World War II was a different story, however. As the Tropican relationships with Germany grew, and the Nazis facing near total collapse by 1945, Tropico officially declared for the Axis. El Presidente sent his trusted advisor, Penultimo, and a unit of Tropican soldiers, to Germany in order to help crush the encircled airborne units in the Ardennes. After brutal fighting in the snow, the representative of the Allied Powers personally went to El Presidente to thank Tropico for their invaluable help in helping the utter destruction of German troops. The Tropican delegation was so terrible, ill-prepared, and mismanaged, that many historians blame Tropico for single-handingly losing the battle for Germany. Nazi leaders fled to Tropico once it became apparent they lost the war, and an Anglo-American join task force attempted to bring El Presidente to justice. However, they landed at the same beach that the British landed on nearly one hundred-fifty years prior, now built up with lots of fortifications. Tropico celebrated a decisive victory, and Queen Elizabeth simply shrugged her shoulders and once again asked if Tropico were interested in a new trade agreement. America too lost interest, despite Tropico practically being in their backyard.

El Presidente, however, was humbled by the experience. No more would he ever declare for a single "side", as that almost ruined his nice little empire. Instead, as the Cold War kicked in with the 1950s, El Presidente played both the Americans and the Soviets against each other as he continuously grew rich from fulfilling both of their demands. Both superpowers never even realized how deceptive El Presidente was in keeping both powers happy, pretending to be socialist or capitalist wherever it was the most convenient. El Presidente's bank account grew to enormous numbers as he continued to embezzle funds from as many sources he could get his greedy hands on.

Things started to go weird around the 90s. The Soviet Union never fell, and the Cold War continued well into the 2010s. The EU, the Arab Leauge, and the People's Republic of China all became superpowers in their own right, not quite to the tier of the USA or USSR, but strong enough to attempt to exert influence on Tropico. El Presidente included all three into his Great Game, but even as he was smart in keeping all five happy in Tropico, it became clear that geopolitics at large was never meant to accommodate this many superpowers. By the 2010s, El Presidente was greeted with a bright flash and a mushroom cloud: some dispute in Ukraine or whatever simply escalated too far, and someone had beef with El Presidente. Probably those damn British. El Presidente hated the British. Always had.

As El Presidente was consumed by the inferno, he didn't die. No, worse. He found himself in some sort of desert, away from his beautiful palace and tropical paradise. Seperated from his swiss bank account, now El Presidente has to rebuild everything from scratch.

CHARACTER CAPABILITIES

~SKILLS~

Cult of Personality: If there is one thing El Presidente is good at, it's yelling into the microphone and sounding utterly convincing. Tropico has survived two invasions and a Cold War, not to mention various rebel groups, through El Presidente's sheer charisma and demagoguery. El Presidente knows what strings to pull, what sells well to a person or group of people, and can get people to easily do his bidding, while making them seem in control.

Financial Vision: If there is a way for something to make money, especially a personal profit, El Presidente knows how. Particularly if it involves embezzling, his favorite activity.

~SPECIAL ABILITIES~

Besides unexplained immortality, El Presidente is no different from any other regular human being, and thus has no magical ability

~Perks~

Swiss Bank Accounts: El Presidente's slush fund is magical. Anytime the timeline in his own universe was disrupted, the amount of money that was in the overseas banks would stay. Thus, El Presidente was able to amass a personal fortune in various banks all across the tax havens of the world. This remains true even in this universe; those funds still managed to cross over, although none of it is currently in his possession. However, El Presidente is certain that, if he puts the effort to search for it, he could probably find areas where parts of his fortune are stored.

~Faults~

Nicotine Addiction: That American gangster movie that El Presidente liked to watch, Scarface he thinks it was called, said the most important rule to the drug trade was to never get high on your own supply. Much like Tony, El Presidente ignored that warning, chomping on the finest cigars made on this planet Earth: his own country's. While this didn't lead to his death via shootout, he is now addicted to Nicotine, and there is only so-much cigars a person can carry on their own.

~Weaknesses~

El Presidente is a leader, not a fighter. While he can shoot down the average mook with his pistol, he is used to having an army fighting for (and with! El Presidente is certainly no coward, mind you) him. He can get overwhelmed very quickly by numbers, and he doesn't have the personal strength to deal with named characters. El Presidente prefers to fight with words, not bullets.

After a certain time without having nicotine or tobacco of some kind, El Presidente will go into withdraw. When he does, Cross will roll on a special little table and a number of things will happen that he'll have to contend with. They can range from silly, to strange, to worryingly dangerous. It'll be fun!!!

INVENTORY & EQUIPMENT

~STARTING EQUIPMENT~

* Dictator clothes and hat, to make him look imposing and regal
* A Soviet TT-30 pistol, infinite ammo but nothing more than a simple peashooter in strength
* A pack of the finest Tropican cigars
* Nuclear detonator (Broken)


~CURRENTLY EQUIPPED GEAR~

* Clothes
* TT-30

~INVENTORY~

See above

MEDALS AND ACCOLADES

EXTRA

VOTE EL PRESIDENTE OR ELSE

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

My specialty is crushing your hopes and memes.

@Mr Allen J

In that case, Odds just stole your job. ;)

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

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Lucie took a deep breath.

The sign she was hiding behind was surprisingly being more resilient than she would have initially assumed it would be. Either that, or the robots were just terribly bad shots. Either possibility, Lucie is getting hit by stray bullets a lot less than the Frenchwoman honestly should be given her current predicament. That doesn't mean she was in a sustainable position. Far from it, actually.

A ticket booth was slightly up ahead. Much more stable of a piece of cover than the sign. Lucie knew she had to forward to get behind something that can actually stop bullets aimed at her. She hurridly reached for the case of grenades at her hips, and pulled out a smoke grenade. Flashbangs would be less than useful versus mechanical targets, so she needed something that would block their line of sight as she pushed forward.

The MAVERICK agent bit the pin off the smoke grenade, before gently rolling it slightly in front of her planned route. Lucie immediately ducked back into cover, groaning after hearing a bullet whizz just past her ears. In what felt like an enternity, the Frenchwoman waited as smoke bellowed from the container, breaking the robot's line of sight. Now it was her time to make a run for it.

Lucie sprinted as fast as she could forward, taking a few potshots at the last known location of some of the robots before she too lost line of sight due to walking behind the cloud of smoke. She reached for another grenade, this time a fragmentation. Violently pulling the pin, she lobbed it at a location where she guessed there was a bunch of robots. The civilians either were dead or fled, at least as far as Lucie could tell, so... nothing to worry about, right?

The explosion of the grenade should not have been as powerful as it was. Before Lucie realized it, there was dust everywhere, and she was knocked on her back, her gun at her feet. The MAVERICK agent quickly lunged for her rifle, before going to fire bursts at the robots. However, as the dust settled, something far more threatening was in her peripheral vision.

There was a giant pod right in front of her! And not only that, but some metallic insect.... thing... was trying to climb itself out of it! Lucie brought her gun to bear and fired at the robot insect. It didn't seem to react to Lucie, as it just continued to look straight forward as it created a singularity in front of it.

A second later, Lucie yelped as she was lifted off her feet again, straight towards the singularity. She aimed her gun again at the insect's head and tried firing, but all Lucie's effort brought her was the being's glare as she was consumed into the singularity...

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Yeong-Suk was relieved when she saw that her entire crew was in the hotel lobby as she walked in, with all of their equipment intact. While the massacre was a tragedy, the fact that no one she was personally responsible for died in that bloodbath meant there was no way their deaths could be pinned back on her. By tomorrow morning, she'll be on a plane back to Pynongang, and she can forget this mess happened in the first place. Except, of course, when the state turns these events into a propaganda film starring herself, but she can cross that bridge when she gets there. For now, she just wanted to drink soju and finally rest.

A quick wave of Yeong-Suk's hand dismissed the rest of the posse to their own devices, while she decided to board the elevator to go to her room on the 3rd floor. No way in hell she was going to walk the stairs, she did enough walking around today for her tastes. After punching her number, she leaned back on the wall for support as the elevator slowly made its way up. Some tourist family from god knows what country were couped up with the Korean, visibly worried at the sight of a woman in a North Korean uniform in the same vincity as their children. Yeong-Suk could hear them conversing among each other in whispers, but she couldn't care less on what they thought of her at that moment. The fact that she was finally here was all that mattered.

When Yeong-Suk got to her floor, she quickly left the family behind and entered the hotel room. She placed her hat and gloves on the counter as she opened a cabinet for a bottle of soju. Yeong-Suk swore she heard something outside in the distance as she poured her first shot, but there was nothing immediately obvious when her eyes darted to check the window. With a sigh, the ravenette took the shot. It sounded too far away to concern her, whatever it was.

Afterwards, Yeong-Suk took off her jacket and tie as she walked towards the remote for the television in her room. If there was any news about the events in the stadium, she wanted to know as soon as possible. With a click of the button, the Korean was greeted to live footage of the stadium; every major network in the Rio market was likely pulling their scheduled content for a special report on the terrorist attack. However, what was being shown surprised even Yeong-Suk; there was some giant metal behemoth that crashed into the lobby, and was sucking up people. The ravenette glanced at her empty shot glass, before going back to the television.

Yeong-Suk cursed when she realized that this was real, and almost instinctively got up to get another shot after that revelation.

"Not. my. problem."

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

A spectre is haunting Nomadic Fist — the spectre of scrublords. All the mods of the roleplay have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Allen and Savo, Red and Lec, fighting fans and animie fans. Where is the roleplayer in opposition that has not been decried as scrubby by its opponents in power? Where is the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of scrubiness, against the more advanced roleplayers, as well as against its mod adversaries? Two things result from this fact:

I. Scrubs are already acknowledged by all Nomadic Fist roleplayers to be itself a power.

II. It is high time that Scrublords should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Scublords with a manifesto of the scrubs themselves.

The history of all hitherto existing roleplays is the history of role struggles.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

Since I finally did my first post with Lucie, I just wanted to talk about her theme, since it's in French and I myself was curious about it (I could make out enough of it, such as the complete absence of the word black in the entire song, but not enough to fully understand it). Turns out, while it is a French version of Paint it Black, the lyrics have nothing to do with the Rolling Stones version (which, btw, is supposed to be a metaphor for depression). In fact, the cover isn't even called Paint it Black, but "Marie-douceur, Marie-colère", which translates to "Soft Mary, Angry Mary". I'll post the lyrics in a hider:

French

Marie douceur c'est ainsi que tu me surnommes
Tu crois bien sûr me connaître mieux que personne
Marie colère existe aussi fais bien attention
Je te l'ai déjà dit cent mille fois sur tous les tons

Marie douceur a beaucoup beaucoup de patience
Oui mais un jour tu verras entrer dans la danse
Marie colère avec des éclairs dans les yeux
Je sais lequel aura le plus peur de nous deux

Marie douceur est avec toi bien trop gentille
Si tu persistes à regarder les autres filles
Marie colère ne sera plus du tout d'accord
Et sautera sur toi toutes griffes dehors

Marie douceur aime bien chanter des ballades
Mais ne t'y fies pas trop un bon conseil prends garde
Marie colère adore les éclats de voix
Alors choisis entre les autres filles et moi

Marie douceur c'est ainsi que tu me surnommes
Tu crois bien sûr me connaître mieux que personne
Marie colère est maintenant là devant toi
Marie douceur n'est plus qu'un souvenir déjà

English

Soft Mary that is how you nicknamed me
Of course, you think to know me better than anyone else
Angry Mary also exists, so pay good attention
I've already said it to you a hundred thousand times in every key

Soft Mary has a lot, a lot of patience
Yes but one day you will see joining the dance
Angry Mary with lightning in the eyes
I know which one will be more afraid of the two us

Soft Mary is much too gentle with you
If you insist on looking at the other girls
Anger Mary will no longer accept it
And she will jump on you with all claws unsheathed

Soft Mary loves to sing ballads
But do not rely on it too much, a good advice, take care
Anger Mary adores loud voices
Now, choose between me and the other girls

Soft Mary that is how you nicknamed me
Of course, you think to know me better than anyone else
Angry Mary is now there, right in front of you
Soft Mary is already nothing more than a memory

This actually fit Lucie a lot better than I thought it would. Glad I picked it. c:

BTW, I have no plans to edit my moves at this time.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

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"In your house... I long to be..."

If one didn't notice the assault rifle strapped behind her back and the combat drone worryingly circling around her, it would have been excusable to think that Lucie Bardot was just some idiot listening to their music way too loudly. Leaning against a lightpost, singing along to her song while bobbing her head to the beat, that charge was still fair. She was just some MAVERICK idiot who was listening to their music was too loudly.

"Room by room... patiently..."

Still, it's not like anything has happened since she was assigned guard duty for this Nomad tournament. The last place any Nomad terrorist would want to attack is a large gathering of Nomads all primed to fight and try to maim each other. Sure, it may be a lucrative target, but it was simply too hard of a target to hit. Besides, if someone tried to bomb the stadium, or heaven forbid, there was a rampage by a possessed Nomad or something to that degree, Lucie would have heard it. Definitely. There was nothing to worry about.

"I'll wait for you there... like a stone..."

Lucie wished she could have joined the tournament herself. She would have kicked so much ass in the stadium. Do you think those idiots in there were prepared to get a nice grenade or two in their face? They're completely unprepared for the type of warfare that Lucie would have brought, while she was specifically trained to take them down. It would have been a slaughter. A metaphorical slaughter. It would have been great.

"I'll wait for you there... alone......"

Suddenly, Lucie felt a tap on her foot. Shot out of her daze, the Frenchwoman glanced downwards, seeing Asterix lightly driving into her. She sighed as she saw the little rascal try to point the stand where its gun would be into the sky. What could be so interesting in the sky? The MAVERICK agent looked upwards, and saw robots with assault rifles parachuting into the stadium. And she saw an explosion rip open the stadium, although strangely pretty silent.

"Alone...", the song continued with Lucie. She quickly turned it off, bringing up her comm links with command.

"Stadium roof Lima Lima Mike Foxtrot, blown up. Tangos enveloping the AO, class Romeo. Too many to count. Requesting permission to engage, over".

A voice responded, "Permission granted. Lock and load."

"Acknowledged. Over and out."

Turning off her comm link, Lucie turned to her robot companion. "Meet me up at the fallback location, Asterix. Hopefully I won't be needing you."

The robot "nodded" with its stand, before driving off away from the stadium. Lucie ran her finger across the top of the upper receiver, making sure her FAMAS was cocked and ready to go. Then, as a crowd of civilians started to run out of the stadium, Lucie ran into the burning building.

When she entered the building, the Frenchwoman saw groups of mechanical war machines slaughtering fleeing civilians. Lucie felt a wretched reaction in her stomach, but there was no time to feel sick. She had to be their hero, or even more people will die. She slid behind a floor sign advertising food prices, before leaning out and firing her gun at the closest robot. With its back exposed to her gun, the robot went down quickly.

Of course, this only attracted the attention of the other robots in the lobby, who (rightfully, of course!) saw Lucie as the greatest threat in the room. They started firing a hail of lead at Lucie, pinning her down to her location. However, the Frenchwoman seemed not that phased, even donning a faint smirk.

After all, those bullets aren't going after civilians now...

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---

Yeong-Suk could only stand dumbstruck as her former opponent demolished a giant colossus of a robot with barely any effort. Well, there might have been some cursing in Korean mixed in.

Was Brooklyn holding back against her the entire time? Could the yankee tell how injured she was before the fight began? Yeong-Suk felt like she was winning the fight, but now-

No, this isn't the time. Not with giant robots killing everyone around her.

The ravenette wished she could just take Brooklyn's advice and leave the place, especially in her battered state. However, Yeong-Suk knew she couldn't just simply run away. There was a film crew from Pyongyang that was supposed to be filming her fights to make propaganda back home. If they died, or worse yet, the tapes destroyed... that would be her head on the platter.

Scanning her eye across the stadium, she looked at various press booths at the top, trying to find which one contained the people she had to save. It took a few seconds, but she found a booth draped with a North Korean flag. Some robots were firing from the stands into the booth. Yeong-Suk had to act fast.

Letting blue ki rush to her feet, the Korean dashed forward, with the blitzing speed of the white deer. When she got to the edge of the stadium, she jumped into the air, allowing the ki to envelop her entire body, slamming her foot into the closest robot. Landing, she pulled out her gun and fired at the next closest robot, emptying the magazine but it finishing it off. She threw the empty pistol at the next robot, before running forward and performing a jump roundhouse kick as it was momentarily destabilized by the thrown pistol.

While there was many other robots in the arena, those are all the ones attacking her fellow compatriots. Collecting her pistol, she barked an order at them from the stands.

"여기서 나가!"

One of the filmers questioned back, "어디에?"

The ravenette irritably groaned. "가장 가까운 것이 무엇이든지. 나는 호텔에서 너를 모두 만날 것이다."

The crew grabbed their belongings and started to scuttle out of the booth. It would take too long for her to climb all the way up and try to meet up with them. She was just going to have to trust them to not run into any killer robots in the meantime and get out safely on their own.

Now, it was time to plan her own escape. Yeong-Suk ran in the opposite direction, towards the lockers that she entered the stadium from. It would be the quickest way to get to the lobby, and from there the exit. She dashed, but was horrified to see that the entrance back to the lobby was blocked by rubble! She was going to have to find another way to get out of this massacre, and find a way fast before the robots catch up to her.

There was a hallway, labelled medbay, where badly injured fighters were taken after their fights. Thinking that as good as any other path, Yeong-Suk ran through the hallway. There has to be a fire escape or something along those lines that she could use to get out of here.

Crossing a corner, the raventte saw what appeared to be a small child that was slowly being closed in by a marauding robot. This shouldn't be a concern, except that the robot was inconveniently in her own way crossing the hallway.

"Move, kid," Yeong-Suk yelled as she slammed her foot into the ground, creating a fissure that jettisoned rocks. These pillars of stone collided with the robot, turning around to face the Korean, splitting it in twain.

Seeing as the kid was trying to go the direction she was coming from, she felt obligated to at least make sure he wasn't running into his own death. "That way's blocked off. We have to go forward."

Korean translations

OOC: Normally I don't like translating any foreign languages I put on my text since the character and reader is supposed to not understand what is being said. But since Korean is Yeong-Suk's native language, it would be weird if she and therefore the reader didn't understand it. However, I do want to mark when she's not speaking English just so it's clear that no other PC should really be able to understand what she's saying. So yeah, for this post and the future, any Gratuitous Korean I use I will transliterate and translate it. Again, I don't actually speak Korean, so I'm just trusting translators to do their job. Same thing will go with Lucie and French, with the caveat that I actually do speak French to an extent

"Yeogiseo naga!/Get out of here!"

"Eodie?/Where?"

"Gajang gakkaun geos-i mueos-ideunji. Naneun hotel-eseo neoleul modu mannal geos-ida./Whatever is closest. I'll meet you all in the hotel."

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

@Savo He fucking sucks.

Like how strong are his skeletal minions? In most fighting games, minion characters go down in one hit or else it'd be gay.

@Mr Allen J

It actually already says that

Chuckling maniacally, Aldous pulls out his book of spells and chants an incantation. If left uninterrupted, the ground will suddenly start to rumble before numerous skeletons start emerging to assault the assailant. While these skeletons are the weakest in terms of attack power, what they lack in quality they have in quantity. While they do get destroyed in one hit, they are also very speedy and annoying to deal with. Along with that, once this super move is set off, Aldous will constantly spawn minion after minion. To stop this super move, he just needs to be hit once and it will cause him to stop summoning minions. Thankfully, he is immobile in this state. Also, any skeletons that are left on the battlefield will still continue to fight for him, even after the ability is interrupted.

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

Is there really no report post function? That is the exact situation I would call a mod in to delete a post

World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

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_{@Megsychan & @Mr Allen J}

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Yeong-Suk sighed as she saw Brook completely no-sell her attack. Just completely negated it like if it was nothing.She wasn't prepared for an enemy like this; and frankly Yeong-Suk had no idea what the hell to do from here. That is, however, until Brooklyn decided to open her mouth.

The stupid yankee was taunting her to get close! This could only mean one thing: she had no ranged capabilities of her own! Yeong-Suk smirked; all she had to do was tire out Brooklyn playing keep-away, and the dinosaur will collapse on its own...

If I don't first...

Defeatism like that wouldn't get the Korean win a fight. Shaking her head, Yeong-Suk rushed ki energy to her feet, activating her Baegsases-ui Bal. The ravenette started to literally run circles around Brooklyn, occasionally jumping to kick sickle-shaped energy at the bloody yankee.

The whole engagement was pretty boring, to be honest. The tiny little soldier girl caught onto Brooke's tactics, and just kept her distance. That was fine. The only problem was that she was spamming ki-infused projectiles that did little to tickle her when she activated her Triceratops Guard. It merely poofed, and Brooke continued her offensive. This standstill was boring for everyone! Where was this girl's sense of flair!? Where was the style?. Either way, Brooke powered through the barrage enough to get close to her. That's when she smiled. She quickly moved in using a dash, and reached for Yeong-Suk.

Yeong-Suk knew those attacks she was firing wasn't going to hit their mark. All she had to do was wear her out, keep running around, just keep poking her until the stupid Yankee just finally gave up. Just run, just run, just run

Then why is the dinosaur lady right on top of her?

The ravenette cursed as she looked down on her feet. Her signature blue glow on her feet was fading; unable to sustain all the energy she was trying to use at once. At full strength, the Korean could outrun this lady for days. However, that beating she took outside earlier, she just couldn't run at peak capacity. And now Brooklyn caught up to her.

Using ki right now would probably be a bad idea, but she needed to keep this brawler on her toes Brooklyn probably thought that she was going to try to run away and continue harassing her at range.

So why not do something off the wall?

With the force of... just herself, not using any ki, Yeong-Suk jumped at Brooklyn, foot extended for a front jump kick. It was time to use some old school Taekwondo on this yankee's ass.

Finally! She probably realized that Brooke was going to keep tanking these painfully obvious projectiles until she stopped being a coward. Even though Brooke was poised to grapple her to the ground, she quickly dropped into stance with her hands up. When the leg got close, she reached to grapple her.

Or would have, if Yeong-Suk wasn't prepared for the yankee to try to grapple her. Instead of trying to land the kick, the ravenette instead used Brooklyn's arms as a means to propel herself further into the air; a classic example of a footstool jump. Yeong-Suk landed behind Brooklyn, and instinctively aimed a back kick straight at Brooklyn's skull before turning around to face the dinosaur yankee. It hit her in the back of the head, and Brooklyn leaned forward a bit. She grit her teeth when this Korean chick hit her, but this wasn't a pain unfamiliar to her. The two were turning around to face each other, but Brooklyn decided she needed to be tricky as her if she was going to win. She lunged towards Yeong-Suk with both hands for another grapple.

Yeong-Suk tried to fight her way out of this grapple, but it was no use. Her eyes widened like a deer in front of headlights as she was lifted off the ground and straight into the air. A magnificent thud punctuated Yeong-Suk crashing into the ground. The Korean woman groaned as she slowly got up, blood pouring out of her mouth.

Shit shit shit Yeong-Suk panicked in her mind. One more hit like that and she was done for. She couldn't return home as a one and done loser...

The ravenette slammed the ground with her foot, launching a slab into the air. She could try to kick it at Brooklyn, but she knew the yankee would use her voodoo ki to negate it somehow. No, she had to think smarter than that.

Yeong-Suk instead grabbed the former piece of the arena and wielded it in her hands. She then charged at Brooklyn, hoping to smash the piece of earth straight over the American's head.

While Brooke was wondering why in the hell that worked, Yeong-Suk charged straight at her with a fucking slab of the arena. Jesus Christ she was hardcore. But, she didn't know the meaning of a fair fight, treating this as some kind of sick, twisted, fight to the death. The only death that occurred in this tournament was the death of martial arts! So, Brooke was going to bring this bitch down with whatever martial arts she had. She narrowed her eyes as her fist charged with green ki. She cocked her fist back, and threw a punch, at Yeong-Suk's face in some kind of trade. She got hit outside the head with a slab of god damn stone, but she definitely would knock her out with this one punch.

With a thud, Yeong-Suk crashed into the ground after a solid hit to the face. The Korean groaned, too disoriented to immediately get up from the ground. After what seemed like a second too long for the referee to step in, Yeong-Suk rolled over and slowly got herself back up on her feet. No way was she going to let her country down, she had to beat this stupid yankee.

Facing Brooklyn, Yeong-Suk blinked as she swore she saw robots pouring into the stadium. No, that can't be right. Must be seeing things from being hit too hard in the head.

The ravenette closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to reorinate herself.

Opening her eyes, she saw... robots pouring right into the ring itself....