Status

Recent Statuses

7 mos ago
Your granny tranny
3 likes
9 mos ago
@Riley Tucker please never speak again.
2 likes
9 mos ago
@Flamingevilwolfgirl that principle is the same in Mandarin, too. Si - 四 - for four is similarly pronounced as si - 死 - for death, and thusly the number four is considered unlucky.
2 likes
10 mos ago
Somebody, please, kill me before I have to see the RPG Status Bar turn into an argument over Feminism. I don't think the Guild can handle anymore issues at present, let alone Feminism.
9 likes
10 mos ago
When people get angry and defensive over a comment seemingly fired at the sky, you gotta stop to wonder if they're pissed cause they think it's false or if they're pissed cause it's true ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
5 likes

Bio

Hiya's, I'm Vocab and this here is my tiny little bio of crap. I don't really have that much to say, so its gonna be pretty short.

I'm a Casual Roleplayer, so you'll see me over there all the time. I try and make it a goal to write every post above 3000 characters, though that doesn't always come to fruition - especially currently. I've been told I'm good at writing, but I honestly dont have that much faith in myself, which is probably why I never moved up into Advanced (not that I could keep up anyways XD)

I would love to be in more Roleplays than I am, but my limit is about 2 at a stretch due to my... Maxed Out Procrastinating Skill and short attention span. I used to have a nasty habit of just getting bored of a RP and not saying anything unless asked, but I like to think I've grown out of that.

Most Recent Posts



~ Full Frontal Democracy ~


The Vixen's scouting was short lived. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for something - anything. The Cathedral, or what was left of it, was in ruins, but despite that, not a soul was around. Not even her Third Eye picked up the presence of other Magical Girls in the vicinity. She had redirected her course on the whim of the fear aura, and had come up empty handed. Not even moments before she had arrived, people had stood where she stood. Fought where she stood.

The carnal drive of a beast reacted first, leaving behind the rational senses she still had for the moment. She needed to fight something. kill something, or she would never be free. The cycle would never stop - not if she didn't keep killing. In response, everything likened to "sense" made itself scarce, making way for her internal beast and animalistic instincts to take control of the situation she could no longer handle.

Her Third Eye was the first thing to draw its attention. Though there were no Magical Girls nearby, the place was teeming with magical energy. Everything in an extensive radius around the ruined Cathedral pulsated with magic. She had seen it on arrival, but barely took note of it: that girl, the one coated in magic, used an ability to shift to the Overcity. It wasn't a place The Vixen had been to before, but she knew of it from rumours and whispers. Her eyes could detect their entrances, though she couldn't open them; never before had she seen anyone open them.

Between everything that made up "The Vixen", the beast could make better sense on instinct than she could thinking about things for days. Surrounded on all sides by a miasma of magical energy, used to tear a hole in the world and warp to the Overcity, the carnal nature she so often, and yet reluctantly gave into, could do its work. It knew things, understood things. How to make things work. How to break things.

Summer's first mistake had been exerting so much energy. So much remained that The Vixen could use. She could feel it - her body absorbing, and understanding it. For a few seconds she stood, basking in it, letting the beast become accustomed to it, before she leapt into the rubble that was the Cathedral, near enough to where Summer had been. Magic flared within her as she prepared for something more complex than she, or the beast, had ever attempted. Multiple times before in battle did she replicate spells to confuse and injure enemies, but this was more than a spell: it was some innate ability to flip between dimensional planes. So she concentrated. The world tore open, and everything flipped.

Beneath her feet was a vast expanse of checkboards, and as she scanned the sky, her eyes fell upon numerous grey clouds, momentarily and periodically betraying a vast, chromatic sky. This was a place she had never been before. But she had no time to appreciate anything like natural beauty. Her eyes drifted from the sky, to the people around her. Magical Girls, and a number of them.

A grating cry, some kind of hybridisation of between a human shriek and a bestial roar. The Vixen's head tilted back towards the sky, sending the sound echoing across the vast expanse of the Overcity, for everyone present to hear. When it ended, her head lowered once again, painted with a violent grin, bearing canine fangs as she stepped slowly in a circle, taking in every foe present. A blanket of flames wrapped itself around each of her elongated, clawed hands, gently illuminating the overcast ground as she watched, and selected her target.



~




~ Chilling Out ~


Christine had been sat happily off to the side of the stadium, relaxing in the grandstands, watching the fight as it unfolded. She had no intentions of getting herself involved, at least, not unless she was directly attacked. Her purpose here was to observe, after all; if she did any more than that, the Boss would be mad. Those that made the Boss mad were moved down, into training. And those that disappointed her then, well... You didn't often see them again.

In the first place, Christine wasn't a fighter. Only a year had passed since she had become a Magical Girl, and despite the training given by Sasha, The Boss, and others, she wasn't exactly cut out for it. Her kit was designed for espionage - for deceit. Not direct combat, and certainly not against some of the firepower the people down their were packing. She would fight if it was necessary, but anything other than life or death was a no go.

However, caught between thinking about what was ongoing at the Cathedral, and taking pictures of the battle, she almost failed to notice something crucial. Almost. The brutish, tentacled horror was doing combat with some giant, mechanical warship of a sorts. She was paying attention to that. But suddenly one of its many tentacles lashed out against the thing, spinning it to the side, and sending a volley of hellfire her way - enough to easily demolish the grand stand in seconds.

Instinctively, she grabbed her Hammerspace Handbag, and shoved the camera inside, before dispelling it, and quickly standing up. With her hand movements, barriers of ice rose up around her, as well as the rest of the grand stand, recreating a platform of ice across the seats as they were destroyed. heavily artillery rained down upon it, demolishing it entirely, but the area Christine was sat in was now entirely replaced with ice; i formed new seats, even part of the stairway down, though very little of the structure was saved.

She looked around, taking in the annihilation of the seating area, and looked back down to the chaos. Things were starting to become more trouble than they were worth, but she had an operation to carry out. Summoning a video camera from the space, rather than her digital camera, or even the bag itself, she sat herself down, a drew a miniature tripod from its base. She then placed it on a small platform of ice that extended out of a neighbouring seat, angled it toward the action, and pressed record.

With everything ready, she pulled out her phone.

How are things on your end?

uh
about that...
shes gone too

How can she be gone as well?

she sort of
just
vanished

She doesn’t have the ability to just vanish.

yeah well she did
she just vanished
completely
and i cant find her
at all

Well then look harder.
The Boss won’t be happy if you lose a high priority target like that, when it was your only job.


~




~ Second Target ~


For a fews hours the past night, Katelyn had spent her time in bed. She withdrew a small amount of cash from an ATM once she was a safe enough distance from the site of the battle, found the closest hotel, and crawled her way into bed for the rest of the night, bent on recovering the mana Regina had sapped with her cursed bullets. Against anyone else, that amount of mana expenditure might have been no issue, but the draining curses sealed the fight. Her body ached, and her head hurt, but her wings were intact. The same couldn’t be said for Eliza.

Now that the morning had come, Katelyn was up and about again. Walking through the streets, those watching her found her constantly flicking her vision between the people around her, and her phone. Before working for The Lady, she had been trained to spot a target in crowds easily. On her phone was a series of pictures - mugshots of different girls faces. One of them was Eliza, and all of them were Ebon Mint operatives. With the assistance of The Web, and some external sponsors, they had painstakingly racked up a list of people operating within the city: Eliza, Samantha, Veronica, Joanna, Nina, Shion… The list was long, and she had memorised them all, but a reference guide was always helpful.

Tired of the ordinary approach, she ducked into a nearby alleyway, and shed her disguise, before leaping onto the rooftops for a better vantage point. She didn’t need to be at eye level to catch them; she just needed a glimpse. With the freedom and agility granted by her Monstrous Form, she skipped across the city, scanning street by street, person by person, in the hope that one of the people she spotted matched the pictures she had.

And then, in the distance, she heard the sounds of a battle. For a second, she went to ignore it, but then proceeded to double back on herself. The last fight she watched, three Mint operatives had all shown up at once, including the Ebon Vampire herself. What were the chances that another operative could appear at another battle? Pretty high, she reasoned, as she began making her way towards the sounds of combat somes half a mile away across the city.

Once she got closer, she saw it: skeletons marching, Magical Girls engaged in combat, but none of it interested her especially. Instead, her eyes scanned the faces of the girls down of the street dueling it out, whilst periodically referencing the phone for their faces. When nothing came up as familiar, she scanned the rest of the surroundings, and there she saw her. A face on her list. Multiple faces, in fact - all belonging to one “Shion”.

Keeping her presence low, and off to the side of the duplicates keeping watch, she approached, just as the Victoria duplicates leapt off the roof to attack whatever adversary she was interested it. The moment Katelyn was in range, she activated her magic, allowing the blue white streams of pure electrical energy envelop her for merely a second, before it released, launching her across the streets and rooftops in a brilliant comet of light to the rooftop the Shion’s occupied.

Katelyn tore past the guards in an instant, leaving them no time to react as the shockwave and thunderclap echoed across the city mere moments after she appeared. Without allowing for any counterattacks or reactions, she redirected the residual electrical energy back into her next spell, which spread from out of her body in a radius across the roof, sending forks of lightning into each of the Shion’s present, unless they could somehow escape the near instant attack. Electricity arced across her wings as she stood, drawing her spear up along with her into a defensive stance, preparing for her assault.



~




~ Elsewhere ~


”Can I ask you something, Sasha?” a voice questioned across an almost empty dining room. It belonged to a woman - the same one who, at a time, had interrogated and belittled Charlotte Suthers for her mistakes. And once again, she was a sat front and center in The Nerine Vista. Some high quality cut of steak, medium rare and gently lathered in sauce sat in front of her, half eaten, and across the table was a tall, terribly muscular woman, with silver hair, bedecked in an apron, almost entirely clean save a few unavoidable splashes preparing the meal.

”Of course, Boss.” a thick, Russian accent emerged from her throat, cutting through the silence that her companion failed to break. The difference between the two became obvious with only a couple sentences. This was the muscle, and “The Boss” was the brains behind it. With merely two sentences uttered, the two contemplated each other for a moment, letting the darkness seep back into the room.

”I gave you all of this... “ the girl started, her fingerless gloves clutched around a set of silverware that she promptly sat to the sides of the plate, ”The Nerine Vista - what a nice place. Good enough for a Michelin Star, even. I gave it all to you, ‘cause that was your dream.” her right hand reached for a wine glass, filled with some kind of caffeinated beverage, and she drank from it, letting her partner talk.

”You did, Ma’am. I am still grateful.”

”You would say you… owe me a debt, right?” she said, looking up from the glass as she replaced it on the table.

For a moment, Sasha seemed to consider, but not as if she were deciding if she was truly in debt. She was deciding what her next words should be.
”I would, yes. I owe you a great deal - for the restaurant, for letting me join The Independent.” she finally said.

”So if, let’s say, I… asked you to go out and kill someone for me. You would do it?”

With those words in the air, Sasha raised an eyebrow to her Boss. Odd conversations like these weren’t uncommon. Sometimes the Boss just liked to talk about things, claiming it helped her think about the issues she needed to take care of, the people she needed to manage, and the actions she would need to take in future. The Independent commanded loyalty, that was unmistakable, even though their members were free to join and leave as they wished. Sasha was loyal to the day she died, and her Boss knew that, but never before had she asked such a question.

The answer, however, came easily.
”I would gladly. You gave me my life; anybody you call your enemy is my enemy.”

”That’s good... “ she said, trailing off as she turned her head to the window, and watched through its one way glass the people strolling around in the morning light, going about their day to day lives. A vast number of thoughts circulated her mind, but one stuck out in particular: the disappearance of the Cathedral.

”Would you have me kill someone, Boss?”

The Boss kept staring, her fingers involuntarily tapping the table. And then, after several moments had passed, she turned back to pick up her cutlery, and continue her meal.
”I dunno how things will go, but you might need to. Today. That’ll be all, thanks.” and thus she continued eating, as Sasha stood from the table, and made her way back to the kitchens.


Hero's District, Priestella


~Escape Plan ~


Chained to a post, left abandoned outside an office building in the middle of the Hero's District, and under the lock and key of Mono was, perhaps, the second last place Wisp wanted to be, beaten out only by Mono's threats of returning him to Mousey. That, by far and out, was the last place he wanted to be; he had escaped for a reason, and he wasn't about to give it up yet. His adventure had barely even begun, and there were so many other nice people that he had met, it'd be an utter waste to rescind his freedom now.

With his free, unchained hand, he grabbed the chain, and felt the heat almost immediately.
"Goa..." he whispered to himself, keeping his voice low on the off chance Crunch or Mono overheard him. Heat enveloped the metal, stemming from his palm, which in the following seconds was covered with the shimmering of the air. In the half a minute that passed, he cautiously looked around, keeping his eyes on everyone the passed by, placing his body in the way to mask his escape plan, and observantly eyeing the door to the office, on the off chance the two superiors exited untimely.

Try as he might, however, nothing came about. Wisp raised his hand, half in frustration and half in disappointment, though he wasn't entirely surprised; such weak power output was hardly going to make a dent in tempered steel certified for use by the military. He had held back to keep the effects of his magic from being noticeable, but the result was equally as reserved. With some more fevered glances, he took his gaze to his surroundings, and anything that could assist.

Whereupon he saw Chieko exiting the office building, and running up to Aki. And he had an idea.
"Pssst! Aki, over here!" he called out, as quietly as possible while still attracting her attention, "I need help! Mono's gonna take me somewhere else, and I don't wanna go, but you have wind magic! You can cut the chains!" it was a desperate attempt, but they were friends - it was the best shot he had without blowing the chains up.



(The Penrose Preternatural) Could Trial of Janet Howell Turn A New Leaf for Beacon?

Written By: Samuel Brooks


Another day begins in Penrose - a brighter dawn for some but for others, perhaps, a darker horizon awaits. Justice, in the magical sense, has always been a term thrown around a lot in the world: who is guilty of this, who is guilty of that, and all the laws that exist between every faction, distinguishing one from Magical Girl and Dark Magical Girl. "Justice" is what people make it, and whoever makes justice holds immense power.

For a long time, Beacon has been a forerunner in pioneering justice for the magical world. Their policing of the streets, execution of Monster Girls, and the excommunication of their disreputable members have, for the longest of times, placed them as the truest and. supposedly, most fair faction of Penrose, if not the world. Their compass pointed true, to the light they so desperately wished to spread.



~




Last Night


In the din of the evening, The Vixen sat. The apartment she held up in that evening was small, dingy, perhaps too barren for the lair of a monster, and largely too dark for any non-magical being to reasonably seek their way around. She could see just fine, but had no plans of moving. Her evening was spent quiet, curled in a corner surrounded by her many tails, deep black in colour where uncontrollable fire had ravaged her flesh and singed her fur.

Tonight was a night of mourning. Perhaps of a way of life, but her eyes weren't weeping for something as trivial like a lifestyle. She was sad for things she had lost prior, things that couldn't be recovered, no matter how hard she tried. Not anymore. Now that evening had progressed into morning, she could gaze out a poorly kept window, cracked in places and grimy with age in others, and reflect on the better times, and times long past, and times where things she have been poor but instead she found herself happy.

And the prospect of losing that terrified her. Not in a menial sense of fear, but a deep seated petrification, rooted in her core like a cancer. The things she dreamt of had long since passed, and yet she couldn't stop imagining them. They plagued her. Kept her awake at night. Haunted her every waking thought, a byproduct of whatever mental flaw her transformation had afflicted upon her. She only had an awful future ahead of her, and a saddening past behind her, and in the middle she was stuck with ravenous hunger and an insatiable anger, that tore into her psyche each day, and left a gaping wound to be nursed in the night, when the lights waned in her dingy apartment, or whatever hideout she had procured for that night.

Some hours prior she had returned from her excursion, the night taking its toll. The Vixen had killed this night, and the previous night, and two nights prior to that, and the day prior to that. A hill of bodies that, given the chance, she would gladly convert to a mountain. Humans, Magical Girls, Monsters - none would be spared the sword. And then, an hour after that, she had returned to the apartment, bruised and sore from combat with a girl wielding giant, metal gauntlets. Her body ached. Her chest was bruised. Her breathe was ragged. Her mind was dark.

In those hours, between then and now, the floor found itself soaked in blood. Anger and grief had overtaken her, in the din of the evening, staring through her window in a pile of blankets and warmth. With her claws she had slashed her arms, her legs, her chest, letting herself bleed dry. Not half an hour later she seared those wounds closed, leaving deep, burnt scars that would no sooner vanish than her sanity return. And so she curled up in a corner, regretting and dreaming, wishing, waiting, hoping, crying, and looking, into a future inescapable and a past unobtainable, curled in a mess of bloody, burnt fur, and bloody blankets, staring blankly into the darkness.

Present


A wave of fear crossed the path of the Vixen. Keen senses she possessed, but a Third Eye she utilised most of all. On her travels, across the roofs of Penrose City, reminiscing on old days, she had been struck. But unlike most she did not begin to doubt anything, or fear anything. Too much fear already possessed and destroyed her. Instead, that primal nature kicked in, sending her spiralling down that ever-long tunnel, spiked and marred in lust and hunger. The mental affliction of the hunter.

Those keen senses and that eye led her to the Cathedral. Surrounded by witches, encircled with Magical Girls, shooting off their spells and engaging in active combat in the middle of the day. It was a feast - one for the glutenous, and the ravenous, to partake in. She leapt across those buildings, claws and strength leaving dents and damages with every jump, across every gap.

And yet she could not arrive on time. Mere moments prior, as she scurried across the city to the Cathedral, it vanished before her eyes. No matter her vast agility, she hadn't made it in time, clearly. For a person to take the structure with them, they must have been of vast power, and she had arrived shy of their disappearance, too late to kill them. But that was fine. The strongest" wasn't her prerogative - anybody would do. To sate her.

So she stopped, by the side of where the Cathedral once stood, in full view of all participants of the battle. Those that read the news might have known her, by the matted, scorched black fur of her tails, or her hungry, crimson eyes, that scanned across the field, making contact with every Magical Girl she could see, land or sky, selecting her target.

~




In the grandstands of a large stadium was a girl, with dark skin, and flowing, purple hair, her body wrapped in brown bandages, surrounding her form like a dress. Still a year on, the outfit her transformation presented her with embarrassed her. But her Boss had taught her not to worry. Off to her side, on the chair next to her, was a handbag - her hammerspace - as well as a phone, and in her hand was a digital camera, specially built, enhanced and tested by both metal and reinforcement specialised girls. It was of excellent quality, with lenses far surpassing anything currently usable, and perfect quality even when zoomed into the battle below her from such a distance.

She was Christine West, Reporter for the Penrose Independent. On the pitch, a massive battle had been raging. Humans had once sat in these seats in her stead, but after the mummies attacked, they scattered, or died, only to be replaced with Magical Girls in troves. They came from the sky and started battling each other, without care for who they attacked, or the damages they caused. Some she recognised - some Beacon members, an Ebon Mint member - and others she didn't, no doubt belonging to the various factions that waged war over Penrose as their territory.

But something peculiar happened. That thing, that emerged from the portal. That horror. She lifted the camera to her eye, and aligned the thing, as well as some of the girls fighting it, in the digital viewfinder, and snapped a few pictures, before laughing to herself a small bit. Sitting back, in her chair so close yet so far from the battle, watching them fight, was interesting. It would make a great story later on.

Beside her, the phone she had placed beside the bag buzzed, once, then twice, before she picked it up. Unlike most phones carried by Independent members, this wasn't a flip-phone, but rather an old iPhone; the touch screen agreed with her much more than the buttons. A series of messages had been sent, from a contact simply titled "Rebecca".

she's gone to the Penrose Doom Cathedral
and
well
it's fucking gone


For a second, she looked at the message, then laughed to herself.

Gone?
How do you mean?

it's just gone, Christine
...send me a picture.

[Image Attachment]
Jesus.
Stay there, and watch.
This could be useful for her.


With a couple of presses upon the screen, she switched over to a second messenger, with the contact this time simply labelled as "Boss".

I've got something for you.

Like?
[Image Attachement]
The Penrose Doom Cathedral? It's gone.

By a Magical Girl?
I guess so.

Who took the picture?
Rebecca - she's still there now.
This is useful, right Boss? This is good

It is.
Very.
Keep up the good work, Christine.


Satisfied, she placed the phone back down, picked up the camera once again, and continued her watch, taking pictures of every action and participant of the fight, whoever they were. This, too, would be an extensively useful article. With it, and the Cathedral, things would start moving along much, much faster.

Outdoor Amphitheatre


~ Taking Control ~

[@Literally Everyone], but mainly @TheSeriousJoke, @xxlanatjexx, @addamas and @KenjuGuy


He had done his best to prevent a situation from arising. Somewhere in his mind, Shirou had thought that, maybe, if he attempted to group their group together immediately, the chance of infighting, and injury, would be greatly reduced. He had hoped that vainly, with a certain misplaced sense of arrogance in the face of the unknown. It was a flawed idea, but it was his best at the time, on the spot, especially considering the circumstances. There was no way to disprove the notions the bear put forward, but maybe, just maybe, they didn't have to listen.

Of course he would be wrong about that. The arrogance came gift wrapped alongside ignorance, a belief that things would go alright. It was his failing here - his mistake, his fault, his flaw - and he would pay for it. If maybe he had said different words? Attempted another, more drastic approach? There were so many ideas that he could have had at the time, and a multitude more ways to prevent the future. The future. It was always scary, but he would always meet the future head on to prevent the worst from passing.

From his vantage point, between the other Ultimates, watching the stage, he caught the glimpse of a girl running, just in his periphery. That bright orange hairstyle could only be attributed to one person, even despite his only brief scan through the Handbook. That was Chikako, running, full speed, towards the stage. And the arrogance went along with her, in the opposite direction, torn away like wallpaper. It crashed all around them in a meteor shower of fire and death and chaos. Everything burnt around them, the world crumbling and collapsing.

Shirou didn't just move. Whatever it was, it didn't look like a move. With everyone's attentions directed to the stage, as Chikako lay helpless, the gun bearing over her, paralysed by the situation, he took the initiative, driven purely on the kinds of instincts that gave him his title, and ran to the stage. It wasn't an active decision; the cause and effect clicked into his mind effortlessly, and his limbs moved on their own, carrying him forward as quickly as humanly possible. People always said that adrenaline and panic supercharged the way a human acted - there was no greater wielder of such a trait than him.

There was certainly time between the move and the outcome, but to Shirou, time blinked forward. The bullet tore through his leg, forcing him to the ground immediately. Even despite the adrenaline surge, the pain clawed its way along his synapses nigh instantly, leaving the gaping hole buzzing with searing heat and excruciating pain. He rolled onto his side, and then his back, hands pressed into the wound to stem the bleeding as best as possible. In the pain, the world seemed to fade, distanced and monochromatic, like he was viewing an old black and white movie.

His ears rang, both from the nerves and the close range gunshot, and his eyes stung and swam, their vision blurred. Faintly he could recognise the things that were going on - another shot rang out, though against who he didn't know, and people ran around, some attempting to help, whilst others gave speeches or argued. The only thing he could tell for certain, though, was that she wasn't dead. Chikako hadn't died. And that made everything, all the pain, and anguish, and trauma, worth it. Because that was what it meant to be

"A hero?"

"Yeah. I want to be a hero."


Blinking away the pain as best he could, Shirou sat up from the floor, shrugging off his jacket and placing it a small distance away from the pool of blood that had spread underneath him. Pulling the string from the hood, he then proceeded to wrap the jack around his leg, before fastening it with the string, forming a makeshift tourniquet. He was far from a trained medical professional, but he knew basic first aid. Any hero did.

And then, even despite Flare's comment about the two of them not moving around much, he stood up. It took great difficulty, and great pain, but still he did it, pushing himself up from the floor to stand upright in front of the group. Even as the pain shot through his body, causing the sound in his ears to warp and dull, he could tell that people were arguing. Fighting amongst themselves. Instinctively, he ground his teeth together - both to stave off his frustration, and his pain.

"Why don't you all stop fighting?" he said aloud - as loud as he could - despite the clear strain to his voice, "What the hell is fighting going to solve? We've got an injured, unconscious girl here and you think the best course of action is to start arguing amongst yourselves?" no doubt he sounded like a nagging parent, but the tone of his voice gave it a sense of weariness, as he turned his head to the people nearby the stage, "We can't rely of makeshift bandages... Flare and... Ginshi? I want you two with me." his eyes scanned the group, "Yukimori Maiya - Improvisational Engineer - you too. And..." the gaze flitted from Maiya to Hiroki, "You want to help? You're smart, I want you as well." with his role-call finished, he took a limping and painful step off the stage.

"There are... supply cabins on the map. It's the other-side of the camp, but we're not going to get medical supplies here. Ginshi can carry Chikako - when we get there, Maiya, Flare, Hiroki... get her patched up." and then, provided there was no resistance and no one stopped him, he would begin making his way there - hopefully, with the band in tow.

~



Outdoor Amphitheatre


~ Set in Motion ~


Lilly stood watching, entirely uncertain, though, of what she was watching. The monochromatic bear emerged, talking about killing games, murder - all sorts of nonsense. People started arguing, a girl ran onto the stage, and then a boy followed suit, before they eat met a bullet. And then more people started arguing, and more people started making speeches. It was all terribly confusing. People doing this, people doing this, round and round, almost enough to make the poor girls head spin.

But Lilly wasn't sure what was really happening not because she couldn't pay attention, but because her attention was diverted elsewhere. Her mind was fixated on something clearly very real, and very serious, to a degree that some in the group might have been concerned about. Her eyes were wet with tears, her face was red, and she was somehow physically curled into herself, despite being stood up-straight. Both her hands were placed to her chest, and her head was low down, creating the impression that she was trying to protect herself from someone, or something

People might have looked upon the strange scene as though she was simply shaken to the core about the revelation Monokuma had given. But those astute enough would have noticed that she had been like she was, even before the speeches, and shootings, and all the other nonsense, had even begun. No, she was facing a far more terrible, and immediate threat. More dangerous than murder, and more petrifying than a killing game.

Her stuffed rabbit, Rosetta, had been stolen.

Lilly's body seemed to physically shake in sadness and frustration. From right under her nose - from right in her hand - someone had managed to take her bunny. She hadn't dropped it. She hadn't left it behind. Her head shook frantically around the amphitheatre in search of the thing, but her gaze fell on nothing. How could she let this happen? He was held so close to her, and so firmly. There should have been no way, and yet...

Still it had happened. Something had to be done about it. Something. Anything! In her annoyance, she took her student handbook, and wielding a face sticky with tears and a terrifying pout, she flicked through the pages of the thing - looking at the map, the rules, the students, the -- her finger stooped tapping and swiping, her search seemingly finished. Her eyes stared into the face of a stranger, a boy she had never seen before, and her pout softened, slightly. A minor amount of tension had been released.

Because now she knew his face. As quickly as she took in the picture, she lifted her head, looking around to find the boy from her vantage point, but seeing nothing. From where she was, at the back of the group, she could barely see the stage. Her vision skimmed straight over her target. So she looked back down, to find everything she could see. His height, weight, talent - everything. And then she skipped to the map, to find his room.

Satisfied, Lilly Hart turned away from the group, and walked away. She was heading in the same direction as Snow - towards the residents cabins - but she didn't register her. For she had something to do; a plan to enact, and a score to settle. If playing dirty was the only way that Aurel boy knew how to play, then by the nine circles of hell, she would outplay him.

Such was her vow.


~ Tendency ~


"What the hell are you doing here?"

"You should know why. Unless she didn't tell you?"

"I know why you're here - I wanna know why you turned up."

"That's the second one. This is going to be an issue for us if you keep it up."

In a backalley, in the North of Penrose, among some scarely populated part of town, two magical girls stood some distance apart. One was only truly notable for the giant metal gauntlets she wielded, clearly boasting of her vast physical strength. The other barely needed explaining - one, single look made it clear exactly what she was. The multiple long, vulpine tails, covered in spots of charred, black fur, and deep, red eyes, were enough information to go on, even without seeing her work. This was the so called "Vixen of Penrose".

Between the too, spanning the rather sizeable distance between the girls, was a trail of blood and viscera - the remains of a third, now very dead, girl. Her weapon lay in pieces off to the side, and the pieces of her body still in tact lay strewn across the floor. It was gruesome scene to be sure, no doubt enough to turn the stomach of many a girl, but neither of the two on the scene batted an eye to the carnage. Rather, they kept their eyes on each other.

"So what?"

"The Boss is getting annoyed at you. First you start killing Beacon members, and then you move on to ours?"

Their stalemate continued, neither leaving each others gaze for even a second. Both knew that, in this situation, breaking contact for the smallest amount of time could prove fatal. The gauntlet girl sighed, lowering her arms, and taking a few steps forwards - crouching down by the wall, still trained on her opponent, to pick up the weapon fragments. And then, she looked away, taking a moment to evaluate to the pieces. They weren't just broken - they were shattered, irreparable, almost.

"You said I could do what I needed to!"

"The conditions have been re-evaluated. You're going to be worth less than the lives you've taken soon - and then we won't be able to help with your little request."

The Vixen growled. It wasn't just a growl of hostility, though, and the gauntlet girl knew it immediately. Anybody would be reasonably pissed at hearing such a statement, but this wasn't just anybody. This was a violent serial killer she was dealing with; her judgement wasn't going to be rational. In a second, The Vixen had closed the gap, her bestial attributes taking precedent over everything as she leapt into the air, and slammed down into the ground where her foe had once been.

But said foe wasn't going to take such an attack lying down. In that second, her gauntlets extended, smashing into the wall with rocket propelled force, sending her flying backwards into the alley, safe from the attack.
"So you want to take a third member, too? I will kill you, Vixen, if I have to." with the statement, she raised her gauntlets, the hydraulics and pistons shifting inside, building up energy for a second blow, "Your proposal was interesting and worked well for us, but you're becoming less valuable every day."

Instead of listening, The Vixen leapt again, her own gauntlets springing to life as the claw-like daggers rotated into a combat ready position. The distance was nothing for her agility and strength - she was on top of her opponent in no time at all, her daggers slamming into the metal gauntlets of the foe. The massive fist was raised, acting as a shield from the attack, while the second swung up from below, hitting The Vixen centre mass with a full power punch. The mechanisms whirred into life, and with a similar, rocket propelled blow, the end of the fist extended outwards, sending the girl flying into the air, and above the buildings that surrounded them.

But it wasn't fast enough. As soon as the fist connected, an explosion rocked the alley, sending both girls flying in their respective directions. The extension barely connected, with the gauntlet girl skidding backwards across the floor, through the blood, while her opponent was launched into the sky by a huge release of magical energy, created of her own volition. She was hurt, sure, but not nearly enough. And as the smoke cleared, she was gone, across the rooftops no doubt, and back to wherever her base was this week. A groan escaped the lips of the girl, as she slumped against the wall, wiping the grime off her newly created burn marks.

"Get someone else to do your work, Vixen..."



~ Charlotte ~

@ERode


In a restaurant, somewhere in the West of Penrose, a girl -- woman -- sat. She wasn't explicitly tall, nor did she post many particularly outstanding traits. Or at least, she might not have appeared particularly out of place in a crowd of people. But in the restaurant, it was hard not to pick her out as something noteworthy. It wasn't just that she was sat alone at a table, without company; the restaurant itself was devoid of life. Besides the occasional sound from the kitchen, one might have assumed the building was abandoned, or perhaps up for sale. But at a table, was the girl.

In her hands, covered with fingerless gloves, were silverware, and in front of her was a plate of food, already half finished. People passed by the windows, but as they did, they paid no interest to the restaurant, instead choosing to completely bypass it, despite the "Open" sign hanging from the front of the door. No, nobody wanted to enter - whether by personal, elective choice, or subconscious decision, divined by some higher expression. And so the girl was left alone to eat, in peace, and silence.

Passing by, you couldn't exactly chalk the restaurant down as cheap, or low quality. For all intents and purposes, the place was something of a fine dining experience, at least from the exterior and menu. The internal decor would support the theory. But despite the locale, still, the girl was alone, sat at the table in her fingerless gloves, her overcoat, and shabby looking hat, completely unaware of the outside world, nor its influences, as she progressed onwards into her meal. Such was the kind of ignorant bliss a silent location gave; she didn't have to bother with what the humans were doing for the moment, nor would she have to worry about any more magical events, or fuck ups.

But it wasn't long before someone disrupted that peace. The door swung open slowly, pushed inwards by some meek force, and from the entrance emerged a certain girl, who promptly cast her gaze around the room, before locking eyes with its sole inhabitant. The girl at the table had looked up, to take in the new lifeform, but quickly went back to her meal. From the door, she approached the table, somewhat slowly, casting a shadow over the girl as she loomed over.

She was blonde, and pretty, her hair adorned with laurel wreaths, and with a pair of angel wings that extended from her back. With the shadow now obscuring the tablecloth, painting it black, the girl at the table finally took a proper look, and acknowledgement, or the newcomer.
"Why dontcha take a seat, Charlotte?" she said, pointing with her knife to a chair one the opposite side of the circular table. With a slight turn to look in its direction, the "Charlotte" character moved, and took her place.

"I-I needed to talk to you, Ma'am--" she started, only to have herself cut off, just as she finished the sentence. The girl held up her hand, halting her for a moment, before scooping something from the plate, chewing, and swallowing it.
"If it's to do with your suspension, that ain't my concern." for a few seconds, she paused, placing the cutlery on top of the plate, and signalling towards the kitchen, "You fucked up. Badly. There's no way you get outta that scot-free."

The colour in Charlotte's face seemed to have drained some as she was cut off, but as her boss continued, she seemed to relax some.
"That's not why I'm here, Ma'am. I... I know I really messed up, but..." she trailed off, looking sheepishly down and away, as a muscular looking girl came to the table. She was short, boasting close cut, black hair, sharp eyes, and a heavily built body. Upon arriving, she picked up the plates, and as quickly as she arrived, headed back towards the kitchen, "B-but, listen, I might have something - something about the incident."

As the girl sat, taking in the information, Charlotte pulled a handbag out from beside her chair, and out from within pulled a tablet. She tapped the screen a few times, and handed it across the table, letting her boss take it, and look it over.
"They're saying they were there. I-I can use this - improve the story, get back some of the points I lost. I just--"
"Because you're on suspension, you need my approval to meet the source." it was exactly what she was going to say, but for some reason, Charlotte's face seemed to drop a little as the words were spoken. She recognised the tone they were delivered in - cold, monotone, and calculated.
"Yes... th-that's right..."

With the tablet in her hands, the girl scanned the message repeatedly. Over and over, trying to ascertain something or another from such a minute engagement. There were so few words, it would be impossible to glean anything, but it gave her moments - precious moments. Moments of deadbeat, suffocating silence, that would drill into Charlotte's skull with every second.
"Rose, huh?" her eyes flicked up from the screen, meeting Charlotte's gaze. While the latter's glinted blue with a kind of enthusiasm, and passion, the boss girls were colder, closer to slate blue than anything with any kind of shine to them, "You're not meeting anyone, Charlotte. You're fuck up was massive - I'm not risking you interviewing any more witnesses."

At that, Charlotte stood from her chair, seemingly inspired by some fit of passion. Her hand slammed down on the table, no doubt flared up in anger, betrayal, desire. So many emotions swam around in those eyes of hers.
"No! That's not fair, Ma'am, and you know it! One mistake - I made one mistake, and it was because of those shitty reporters and their fucking misinformation! This wasn't my fa--" and then her speech went silent. She felt heavy - everything felt heavy. As she went to speak, her throat caught, her eyes locked with her boss as she tried desperately to say something. She hadn't even moved from her chair, and yet, just by looking at her, Charlotte was struck into silence. She feared her already - that much was evident - but, in a sudden second, that fear had amplified.

"Christine will go in your place - I'll send the reply. Someone will bring you the tablet later." once again, Charlotte tried to speak, but nothing came out, "You can leave now, Charlotte Suthers." futility crossed her eyes, and her mind, and wordlessly she nodded. She picked up her bag, pushed the chair under the table, and made her way through the restaurant, to the door, and out onto the street.

Rose
You were there at the incident? Then I'd love the chance to interview you! Every bit of information helps!
I don't know if you have some kind of specific location in mind, but if not, I have a reservation at a restaurant tomorrow afternoon. It's called The Nerine Vista - you should be able to find it pretty easily. It tends to be quiet, but the food it good.
Thanks so much!
Charlotte
Charlotte Suthers




The building was far from in an okay state, but despite the damage, it held tall. A newly created entrance sat at the far wall, where it had caved in from the force, opening the interior of the office to the cold, evening chill. Rubble, broken glass, and varying debris from desks and booths lay strewn across the ground in a line, leading deep into the floor, where a magical girl had been thrown, leaving a clearly identifiable path of destruction before her. And between her, and the wall, was Katelyn, still crackling with the aftermath of her assault, walking along the path towards her quarry.

"You don't need an answer to that, Mint Agent." she said simply, reaching into her dress to pull out a second phone. In the silence of the evening, broken only occasionally by cars driving around below them, they both could hear the vibrations of the device. It was a flip phone, clearly disposable, and the dragon girl quickly unfolded it, before placing it to her ear; "Yes. Of course. Yes. I'll send you a photo of her. Is that all? Bye."

As her conversation concluded, she lowered the device, leaving it at an arms length, pointed towards the angel girl. With a few button presses, the camera on the back flashed, illuminating the darkened floor for a brief second before it disappeared again. With a few more presses, she closed the phone, and placed it back into her dress.
"Now..." as quickly as the device was stowed away, Katelyn had put herself in an offensive stance. If Eliza had received any kind of combat training in her time as an operative, she would be able to tell immediately that this wasn't just somebody preparing to attack - it was the stance of someone trained to fight, ready to spring in reaction at a moments notice. Arcs of lightning crackled around her body, across her hair, and around her wings, prepared to move, but-

In the next second, Katelyn had her back to Eliza, her attention completely separated from her. The sound of talking behind her was more than a threat, it was the most immediate threat, much more than an injured angel. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the newcomer, covered in blood, and having come from nowhere. She hadn't sensed his approach until he was right behind her; someone who could do that easily was trouble.
"The wings of a monster? What are you on about?" her eyes drifted along, from his face to his body, and the shield that stood in front of him, with its oddly shifting chains. Did that make him some kind of a defensive fighter? Maybe a Metal Specialisation? But then how did he sneak up on them?

Thoughts swirled around her head for a time being, as the arcs of lighting built up around her body. They hadn't stopped since her attention was diverted - they had intensified. Crackling across her body were countless lines of electrical energy, charging the air around her as she held a defensive stance. If he was defensive, she would need to take the first move.

As quickly as Katelyn had turned around to address the boy, she seemed to disappear. That same, bright blue energy enveloped her completely, bathing the room in light, and covering the area with a thunderous crash, causing the nearby windows to shatter. The distance between her and Elroy was covered in an instant with her vast speed increase, and with the propulsion, she struck the shield with her feet, landing against the cold metal and chains with a thud. The next second, an equally loud roar of thunder ripped across the room, as Katelyn channelled a blast of electricity and wind out from underneath her, directly into the shield.

Elroy may have been strong, but if he couldn't hold his ground, no doubt the force would fling him backwards, out of the hole the three had entered through, and into the night air, to be greeted by a sudden drop. With the new propulsion, Katelyn had leapt from the shield back across the floor of the office. Unless Elroy did something to prevent himself from flying out the wall, Katelyn would continue her attack on Eliza.


”Near The Docks”, Cham, Priestella


~Retrospect ~


A smile coated Wisp's face. At least, in part. While the entire group wasn't willing to join him on his misadventures, at least one was, and that was better than nothing! Whatever kind of trouble the group was in was far from his top priority to deal with - torture, being killed, arrested, all that stuff; he didn't have much stake in their predicament. Whatever mess they had gotten themselves into, and through what means, didn't matter.

Fun did. Now that he was away from Mousey for the first time in ages, and outdoors of all place, there was so much potential! He could eat a load of food, and stuff like that! Was that all he could think of doing? Yes. Yes it was. But it was a noble goal! he'd come up with some other stuff at another time, probably, but for now, the goal was eating food. And what better way to eat food was there than with random strangers wielding magical artefacts? Wisp was ready to leave, to march forward, new friends in tow, when he was stopped, by the one who was willing to join him, no less.

"Here's the device, keep it; we won't need it where we're going."


He barely even got a chance to get going, before he was forced to a halt by the boy. Confusing marred his mind, grinding his thought processes to a halt as he took the device in his free hand, and idly looked it over. The device wasn't even that important to him. He would have had every chance to look it over later after the group became friends, but now he was getting it for free. It was nice to have but... It was missing something, something key. The whole situation was. So they wouldn't follow him? But what about the fun they were going to have?

In the seconds after, with his free had clasped around the device, he turned it over, taking a look at its components to distract his mind from the disappointment he felt. It was saddening to think that maybe they didn't trust him, and that somehow they thought being arrested was a better alternative to going with him, but at least he got something out of the engagement, right? It wasn't all for nothing. It wasn't a waste.

But it only took a couple of seconds for Aer to close the distance between them, placing herself between him and the group. As Wisp pulled his eyes away from the device to look up, he noticed the crowd. Or more-rather, the lack thereof. The crowd around them had begun to disperse, no doubt in part from the fire, but also thanks to the woman in front of him, wielding her weapon - now pointed straight at him. The series of observation fit together like a jigsaw in his brain, until he came to his own hand, where the fireball he had summoned still sat blazing.

"W-wait a second, this isn't- I didn't-!" as quickly as he had seen it, he shook his hand in the air, allowing the heat and energy of the ball to disperse almost as quickly as it summoned, "I don't wanna fight, promise!" as he spoke, he placed the device into one of his pouches, keeping one of his arms outstretched, between him and Aer, both to keep her at distance, but also that she could see that it wasn't doing anything.

As slowly as possible, as to not cause an escalation, he took a step back, and then another, his arm staying between them. If this was going to turn into a fight, he wanted as much distance from her weapon as possible, especially with her reach. He could fight with weapons, but he was a magic user; distance was key here.
"L-listen, I can go with you to the guards, 'kay? I know people there! If you say you're with me, they won't arrest you or anything like that, I know it! And then we can all be friends! 'Kay?"

Italics in her history.

[[i]Note: There has been debate as to whether that entity should be classified as a PRE or as an UXP. As such, the Topography Genera designation has been used here pending the confirmation of the designation.]
@Salvia Sorry that I haven't gotten a post up yet. Been having a little trouble figuring out a good starting post.

On another note though, you might want to recheck the claims list on the OP. My name is listed by both Chastity and Wrath, rather than the latter's respective player.
@Ammokkx I’ll bite ya fockin’ kneecaps off mate.
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