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    1. ProPro 10 yrs ago
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7 yrs ago
Current Starting new YouTube show, Hell Yeah Gaming! Lots of work to do still, but getting me to 100 subs for a custom URL would be of tremendous help! youtube.com/user/DarthGlamd…
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Woohoo! Glad to see we're making progress on this bad boy!
@Lugubrious@BCTheEntity

From within the protective dome Runch could hear multiple explosions going off outside. They rivaled, or even outmatched what he could produce with his Hellberry recipe. At least as much as he'd ever tried to create. His bombs could be made much larger, but without a reliable method to shoot them out, it'd be suicidal. Bah, got to focus on reading. Same last name, so they're related. Stands? Were these two from the same world as Motley Crue? That didn't sound right. But then were stands something that anybody from any universe could manifest? That also didn't seem right. Better to figure that out later.The journal didn't detail any abilities beyond the stands, so these College representatives didn't seem to be trained in any form of fighting. They had to be inexperienced. So why send two totally inexperienced non-combatants to kill two very powerful men judged purely for their destructive capabilities?

Because that's all they have, Runch thought to himself in the voice of his navigator Hachirou. No, that definitely wasn't right. They still had plenty of artifacts left over they hadn't given away to tournament participants. Surely some of their number had to be proficient in using them for combat! It had to be something else, so what was it? Two complete non-fighters showed up, no backup, no College artifacts, when he knew they had to have the resources to do better.... Gah! He was so close to being on to something, but another explosion rocked his senses. "Right," the cap'n began, pocketing the journal once he was certain Erina had read everything over his shoulder. "Time to get involved! Omnomnomnom!"

With a powerful jab of his blade, K. Runch scooped out a hole from the protective dome and called out to Motley, "Mr. Crue! I do not know how much you've surmised yet, but the lass creates missiles from her body! The larger, the more destructive and the faster it goes! Smaller ones can have their guidance overwritten by her will! Focus entirely on her, and I will take the lad! His shadow people are entirely defensive in nature and specialize in neutralizing stand attacks and bad events! Under no circumstances is anybody allowed to ask for help, or the army gets bigger!" By the time he'd finished calling out his instructions, Bartholomew K. Runch had dug himself out of his protective barrier and was ready to join the fray. He turned his head toward Erina and, with a smile, told her, "Do whatever you can, but leave the heavy lifting to us! Omnomnomnom!"

With that, the pirate rushed forward toward the twins as quick as his legs could carry him, "Bori bori jet-raft!" he called out, generating a large flat piece of buoyant cereal on the water. Soon as he landed on it, the raft began moving forward at about 20 mph, propelled by the constant fast stream of cereal pushing out from the back of the captain's feet into the water itself. The wind on his face as he once more traveled across the water, the way he was meant to be, it invigorated him. He didn't ask for the pirate life, but now he had found he'd give it up for nothing. Yes, now he was in his element, and these kids, he'd have to set them straight on a few things. Taking out his pistol as he neared, Runch took aim for the ground between the twins and fired. "Pistol Shot: Honeytrap Ammunition!" As long as the cereal-bullet hit reasonably near where he aimed, it should explode into goopy, sticky honey that restricts and traps movement. It didn't have the same splash as a Hellberry shot, nor the destructive capability, but the Cereal Killer was anything but.
Hey guys, sorry I haven't communicated this here where anybody not in a chat can see, but I was totally sick off my ass for a good while and my ability to participate in writing was really compromised. I'll get to updating this, and everything else that I'm in, soon as I can.

That said, time for me to call out those that haven't posted. That would actually only be @solokolos for the Wards (technically Old Amsterdam hasn't posted for the Minutemen either but we agreed in private that he could skip this round as he has nothing for Rend to do). So Daltyn, try to get that post up soon as you can and I'll be speeding people along quite soon.
Hey guys, sorry I haven't communicated this here where anybody not in a chat can see, but I was totally sick off my ass for a good while and my ability to participate in writing was really compromised. I'll get to updating this, and everything else that I'm in, soon as I can.

That said, only @Demon Shinobi hasn't updated and I know you've been on, plus there's been lots of extra time. What's the haps?
You won't need any info from me. At least I'd hope you know me well enough by now. :P You can count me in, my brother.
@hagroden To be fair, being absent for 3 days isn't terribly uncommon and waiting for a post usually requires more patience than that. Most GMs that want to keep a "fast pace" game still have an average grace period of a week, and Sickle's last update for us was also only 3 days ago. It's concerning because Hats is so new, sure, but it's hardly a big deal for most members of this site. I'd suggest waiting a few more days. That's just how things go in a post by post format with all players living all over the world.
I HAVE NOT LET MY ILLNESS OVERCOME ME!
@BCTheEntity@Lugubrious

Runch remained silent as Motley and Erina debated the merits of the vampire striking out on his own. The whole thing was somewhat embarrassing, so he awkwardly scratched the back of his head with squinted eyes and an uncomfortable smile. He was used to being talked over back on his own ship, so full of big personalities. The main difference there was legitimate loyalty. He knew he could always count on them to dial it back when he needed to step up and give the orders. In this situation, those were more suggestions than anything else.

"Omnomnom, well you'll do what you want, at the end of the day. Whatever makes you most comfortable, omnomnom!" Having absolutely no desire to relive that conversation again, Runch focused entirely on following the path that Oren's drone had set out for them to follow. The constant water blockages were certainly annoying, but he thought of all the detours as more of a fun game of exploration than an obstacle inhibiting his path. That said, it wasn't long at all before his two companions began to behave strangely...

Motley laid down the law that he wasn't leaving, while Erina began spouting out some poorly articulated babbling that a child could see through. The captain wasn't a genius, but he was somewhat intelligent and decent enough at reading signs. There was something both of these two noticed that he hadn't. Both of his companions could see supernatural events that remained invisible to his own eyes. That meant that-KABOOM! Something nearby suddenly exploded without warning! The shrapnel missed, but Runch couldn't help inhaling a bit of the dust that had been kicked up. "Ack! Cough cough! What in blazin' blueberries was that?!" he cried out, but it was an unnecessary query. Two individuals dressed in the clothing of the College made themselves known. With a single announcement, his heart sank. Threat? Sentenced to death?! Well ok yes he was a criminal by strict definition, but only in his own world!

Keeping a jolly face, Runch chose to roll off the severity of the situation with humor by asking the first question that came to his mind. "Does this mean that I'm disqualified then?" Motley Crue decided to take point in this fight, and Runch couldn't disagree with that tactic. While Runch was the only one that could not see the threat, Motley was the far superior fighter over Erina. The best thing he could do right now was go on the defensive and bide some time.

"Bori bori dome!" cried the pirate, spinning around in a twirl, both hands outstretched. Streams of cereal poured out around himself and the exorcist to form a protective dome around them. It didn't leave a ton of elbow room, but then again it didn't need to. It just needed to resist attack, and as it was an inch thick and hard as iron, it should definitely be capable of that much. Wasting no more time, K. Runch plucked the journal from his shirt pocket and opened up two new pages. He needed to see what these college stooges were capable of...
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