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7 mos ago
Current That's funny. Well I'm guessing not too many people are interested in Power Rangers. Anyway check it out if you're interested, we'd love to have ya
7 mos ago
There's this Power Ranger's RP i'm attempting to join in the casual int area. We need a female rper, any takers?
2 yrs ago
Belief is essential. It harms and grows, one only needs to be led towards greater knowledge to succeed. I'm lacking that guide.
2 yrs ago
Can't assume what you know little to nothing about. There's a whole ocean beneath the surface of everything.
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Third Floor
Late Noon


His balance had been thrown off, his footing faltering as he hastily attempted to rectify his mistake. Instinctively he yanked his blade free of the ground and raised an impromptu guard. The creature was up to something... odd. It slammed it massive head against the ground and guzzled down the loosen dirt, filling its belly.

"I should be cautious, yet my gut is telling me to strike before its too late."

In a flourish of movement, Oben aimed the point of his sword in the cramped tunnel. The edge of olden blade reflected the poor lighting while he targeted the side of the monster's stomach. Slippery as it had proven to be, not even the best of surfaces could halt the plunge of his sword. Or so he believed. Again he readied his charge, legs tensing before he dashed towards the mostly-ignorant creature.
Interested... tentatively.




Third Floor
Late Morning


"Kori!" he shouted, drawing his nodachi from its sheathe.

There was urgency at first, the sudden and violent snatching of one of their party members sent a shock throughout him. Then a calming breath upon seeing Kori mostly okay eased him. He could get the gist of what was happening, Kori was defiantly staring down the monster, perhaps ushering it into striking range. Oben raised his nodachi overhead, then single-handedly angled it down the hole, ready to plunge. The moment the creature had given him the opportunity, he would leap down and attempt to skewer it's head. Lizard or not, a blade through the crown was sure to due some damage and he counted on Kori and the others to deal some as well.

He whispered a shuddering a breath. Please don't let me down, he thought to himself.

@January Sorry it took an hour to reply. I literally spent the whole hour picking out themes for Qwen.
EDIT: Also made his weapon that curved-piece of his helm. Gonna make it a sickle.

@RedDusk Good, cause it happens to me far too often. I make a character then somehow or other, I'm intersecting with someone else lol.
(I'm taking on an Ethereal Crown and I understand that it often takes on a more supportive role. I'm just unsure of that "kinds" of support, so I opted to make him something of a one man army. Let me know what ya think. My bad for the resemblance @RedDusk. I was just as surprised as you.)



Jayson Vargas | Psychic | Mid-Town | Watched | @FoundTonight


Jayson wasn't use to being apart of the crowd, in fact he disliked it. He didn't know why but the voices always grew in number when he was surrounded by other people. The voices he was use to often fell to the background to strange new ones. Which was why he currently muted the voices, indiscriminately tedious and vicious all at once, to the sound of a pop-instrumental. The buds of his white earphones were snugly inside as he gathered inspiration for a new animation from the bustling of Mid-Town's urban and diverse environment. From the people striding with drinks in hand, to the couples sauntering home with smiles between them, even the sprinting criminals and daring vigilantes had a place in his depiction of Mid-Town.

Jayson paused. Criminals and vigilantes?

The black pen to his notepad slumping as he looked up from his current work; a rather accurate visage of Mid-Town's streets, skyscrapers, and entrant alleyways visible from the street-bench he was working from. A flash, a small form bounded fifty feet across the air. Another body followed in pursuit, the red and blue lights of police vehicles were everywhere; they were even represented in his art. How did I not process this? he thought calmly.

He packed away his notepad in its carrier and readied himself to leave. Already he regretted leaving his safe, quiet home. Nervously he scratched at his right eyebrow, crossed the busy street, and begun walking amongst the crowd. For awhile too much was happening inside him. His voices were talking about the Underground, criminals were meticulously planning escapes, and other voice were just hoping to save people. Meanwhile the majority of his strange hallucinations were mindlessly talking about life, sex, jobs, and dinner.

Then a hoard of voices yelled, it was thunderous. A moment later the ground shuddered and the people behind him had pushed forward. Jayson fell, dirtying his cream jacket as shoes, heels, and sandals stampeded around him. His carrier had ended up off to side of him, open for all the stomping feet around. He had so much work on it that his skin had begun to itch just thinking about the loss. The feeling thorned around him for a second and as Jayson reached his hand out towards it, he gasped and a shockwave blasted the people away from him, sending bodies hurdling into the street, into buildings, and back onto the cement.

Jayson stared at his carrier, the sudden lack of feet moving around it sent a wave of relief through him. He sighed and grabbed it close to him. "What is wrong with these people?" he agonized aloud. He eyed a forming-fitting suit of black out the corner of his eye, a veil of red hair, and a thrumming drone high above the sultry woman. He leaned back on his arm, holding his carrier with the other, and looked up at the drone with a raised brow. "I'm never coming back to the city." he muttered.
@January I've been lurking for a little while. Just wanted to let you know I'm interested in this. Currently cooking up a CS.




Second Floor
Late Morning


"Yes!" Oben shouted with glee.

Of course the first floor was easy, not one adventure in their party should've had any problems but that hadn't lessened Oben's duty to feign joy or to hide his unease. He had to put forth some kind of answer for his supposed reaction to victory... right? No, yea, that was exactly what he needed to do. Though he mourned the suffering of the kobold, he much preferred for a monster to die than an human. With a sly turn and the sound of managed iron, his nodachi was placed comfortably back in his sheathe.

At that same moment he noticed Penn dashing from kobold to kobold, eviscerating their corpses and plucking the gems from their cavities. It was truly something fascinating to watch. Since he had always been alone, Oben was use to doing it himself. It was a tedious job but Penn made it look easy, fun even. He would remind himself to genuinely praise her whenever possible. After she had picked up the gems and the one body that Oben had beheaded with help from the bolt-shooter, they were on to the second floor.

Oben landed with a soft thud, approaching the map laid out by the others. Apparently they were to pick the next path. Oben gave Dahlia a curious look; wondering if she was prepared for all the ways this seemingly easy task could go wrong. With so many minds and different personalities, all of which had some brashness to them, this could turn quiet-literally into a free-for-all. Once Varanense had fleshed out his own plan, Oben stepped away from the map. This was the perfect opportunity to get a better look into their insights and from there speculate as to why they decided such arguments.

Good, now I get to dive into their minds a bit.

Meanwhile though, he'd eliminate himself by saying, "I couldn't come up with anything. Your plan is better than nothing. And its a good one too... I think." He flashed a kind grin and folded his arms over his chest.
I'm super popular, thought Nagatoki.

A grin flourished on his lips as he followed behind the others, mirroring their moves with near perfect accuracy. As the conversation fell into priorities, volunteer work, and ultimately useless babble, Nagatoki stepped up next to Fujimaru. Like the Captain he put his hand to chin and feigned contemplation. As Fujimaru began to speak, Nagatoki dropped his act and instead started to busy himself as they all deliberated.

Crap, the hell should I do while everyone is running their mouths, Nagatoki folded his arms over his chest. They can all wait outside to be honest. With my skills and infamy, I could probably take the Mad Dog down all by myself. His cheeks reddened at that thought, an obviously large smile on his face.

"The Bright-Eye Manslayer will be known worldwide. But that can only happen if I gain even more political-power. His mumbles tapered off to the musing of selfish indulgences.
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