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6 mos ago
Current Check out our new and improved thread. Just an interest check for now, but oh boy is there so much more to come! roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
2 yrs ago
Oh Bleach RP oh Bleach RP where art thou oh quality Bleach RP. Why hast thou forsaken thee? Seriously though, WHY!?!
3 likes
3 yrs ago
Man i'm bored. Arena, someone fight me or something, I don't know....
3 yrs ago
It's okay guys, even if you do not enjoy acquiring child, you can just let the rest of us who do enjoy getting kid to our own devices. Just ignore the status bar, gosh, stahp the edginess.
5 likes
3 yrs ago
Get kid.
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4 Wins / 2 Losses / 0 Draws
1400 points

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CAPE NAME HERE

"QUOTE."
CAPE NAME HERE

"QUOTE."
Chatterbox
Theme


The plan was carried out with brutal efficiency, which became quite literal as Thunderbolt laid into the Doctor with far more savagery than was necessary. Though, perhaps not less than the bastard deserved. However, he had little time to dwell on that as Patriarch was put on screen, whom he scoffed at. The bastard had the city in his hand, but it would all be quite temporary.

This other cape though, they could be problematic. Turning his attention there, Chatterbox held back, forcing himself to listen to the man's words rather than begin planning for new eventualities. Apparently the man was also Doctor Dean, in a fashion, at least...an alternate version of them. Strange, it must have been something similar to the clones of him and Whimsy they'd dealt with after the warehouse.

This, on the otherhand, seemed beneficial. Perhaps they could use this...Chivalry. Perhaps they could bring him to the Broker or he could enthrall him. Either could be quite advantageous. He smiled and moved to close the distance, perhaps get a handshake and give a greeting. That way they could start a dialog--....

The thought trailed off into silence, replaced only by the wailing sirens. A dreadful sound, not just in pitch and volume, but in what it symbolized.

An Endbringer attack.

"Fuck."

He broke out into a cold sweat and turned to his teammates all his schemes briefly forgotten.

"What do we do?" For once he was utterly bereft of anything to say. He was stricken by the situation and likely still quite in shock by it. The gravity was just too much. After all what could he possibly--....

Thunderbolt spoke and the words—his name—rang through Drake's head for a long moment, as if suspended in an infinite echo chamber. He ground his teeth, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused and he let out a shuddering breath. He'd stepped onto this path, there was no turning away from it.

"You're right." He responded simply before he switched communication channels and simultaneously rattled off orders and tapcode to his many...many thralls and inductees. Those within the airport would begin organizing themselves and moving towards the evacuation points in as fast, but calm, a manner as his control could manage.

Chatterbox had begun organizing the evacuation.

All across the city people got calls, texts, and other notifications. Responding swiftly they made calls or bid others nearby to go to the bunkers. Those at the outskirts of Denver packed up and started driving—well before panic could properly settle into the population. The empowered of the mastermind's cabal made contact with as many people as possible, seeding their influence and smoothing the edges of every interaction they could. They were often as loud and commanding as they could manage without seeming terribly strange. Then again, given the circumstances, people would be too shellshocked or preoccupied to notice.

With their Master's help, many more lives would be saved without combat intervention than was typical in situations such as these.

Of course...in the longterm, there very well might be a price to pay for that blessing. So perhaps, rather than a gift, it was an exchange.

A freudian bargain, perhaps.

Only time could tell and that mistress was often silent.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


Things went so fast that she was really only able to translate what had happened a few moments after. Confoam Grenades—multiple???—went off, her projection acted, two guns were fired and ultimately Protean was contained. Moments after all that her projection noticed the widescale attack that the traitor had been about to mount. They'd only avoided it very narrowly. It was something of a miracle and she found herself forcing a long, deep breath—having forgotten to breath for a moment there. Relief flooded through her and she even felt her anger and disgust with Protean assuaged somewhat, fading into the background. With things taken care of pretty neatly, she stood from her crosslegged position and dismissed her projection, which swiftly shimmered and then flashed out of existence, becoming once more a silver glow in the air. As she made her way through the halls and to her team Decoy contacted them.

”Wards, there’s been a new development you need to see!”

"Oh," Evelyn said as a projector activated on the wall near her. Relief was quickly replaced by bile in her throat and a clenching of fists. "Patriarch," she growled, before choking on her own disgust. Forcibly she calmed her breathing, making it even and slow. Gradually the anger relaxed and settled into something cold in her chest. Her jaw remained clenched, but her fingers relaxed.

From the villain's words she understood one thing, the man had corrupted Denver. Still, it wasn't beyond saving, she reasoned. In that moment she vowed to save her hometown, her city. She promised to save it from people like Patriarch and those who had allowed him to remain in power.

At the thought, the light of her projection shifted, and then slid into the ground only to surround her in the next moment, wreathing her in faint silver-blue light.

The tyrant kept talking, but she was done listening.

Evelyn continued on her way back to her teammates. After maybe a minute she arrived to see blood...lots of blood, and the Director at the center of it. Her eyes widened and she ran over.

"What happened," she demanded, but the Director was already losing consciousness. Mouth gaping, Evelyn took a step back and Lillian stepped up, trying to staunch the bleeding and help the man while she floundered for an explanation.

Then came the sirens, accompanied by a sinking dread, and followed swiftly by cold fury.

Evelyn knew what she had to do.

"I can't help here," Evelyn said, turning her back on the Director. He was corrupt anways, just like the rest of the PRT.

"I'm going, I'll leave comms on." Then, her shoulders squared, she walked into the elevator, pressed the button—using her projection to sense which one without turning—and let the doors close without a single look back at her team.

She was going to get a vantage point and then use her projection to help evacuate as people arrived to help fight Behemoth.

After all, an Endbringer was the greatest evil wasn't it?

So who better than her to fight it?
Outsider


Waiting, hoping for good news, Outsider hovered just outside of the building. Then the screaming started and the sound of flames. He frowned, then something far worse occurred. Sirens. If he'd had a face his eyes and mouth would have opened wide, but as it stood he merely got a whole body shiver, which was saying something due to his size. Flashes of memory struck him. Drowning, screams, the struggles of his grandfather, the sheer destruction as water drowned a big part of his ancestry, his culture, and then the long wait after the pain—both mental and physical—of that fateful experience.

He couldn't swallow down the terror and having been dull for so long he found himself paralyzed by it. It was not until Sylph called out to him that he snapped out of the stupor. Delayed a moment, he finally acted, tendrils snaking into the building where they reached Eyeblight's human guise. Precise waves of force burst out from the tips of his tentacles, blasting away the flame even as one tendril socked him over the head hard enough to knock him out. Then one massive limb wrapped itself around Eyeblight like a cobra, leaving only enough space for him to get air, before hauling him out the window.

With the villain dealt with, he turned his mind to the greater problem. Now, steeled against his fear and able to rationalize that this wasn't Leviathan and that he wasn't that helpless boy anymore, he flew up somewhat.

"Sylph, we need to get Eyeblight to the PRT where he can be safely contained, but I can do it faster than you. You should evacuate whoever you can to the safehouses in the city."

He didn't wait for her response, but instead stretched his senses to the brink, oriented himself, and then blasted into motion—though slower than usual so as not to give Eyeblight a concussion. Swiftly he accelerated, holding the bastard against the underside of his form, still entombed by a limb. His acceleration didn't decrease as he kept flying, pushing his Vessel as fast as he could. Soon he reached the point where he could sense the HQ, at which point he slowly started decelerating. He arrived safely, touching down just outside. Gingerly he used one of his head tendrils to open the PRT building's door.

"I'm leaving Eyeblight here, he's unconscious and needs to be detained immediately." His hollow voice boomed with an alien authority as he snaked the tentacle directly into the building and then laid Eyeblight inside. That done, he closed the door just as gingerly, turned, and shot into the air almost like a bullet—blurring as he suddenly accelerated all at once.

He was on a mission and his first goal was to get as many civilians as possible to the bunkers.
Wooo! It begins!
Chatterbox
Theme

A single crisis averted only for another to reveal itself. Initially relieved, Chatterbox ceased his fleeing, only to realize that his various minions and thralls—some barely in his control, and others getting closer to being bonefide fans—were quite in danger.

"Scatter!" He yelled vigorously through comms to them, and the meaning in his voice—carried through the hall as well as to them via comms—had them getting as far away from the explosives as possible. Then shots went off and Headhunter contacted him. He narrowed his eyes. "Thunderbolt, Whimsy, team-up and get closer to his point of entry!" As he said it he utilized tapcode to notify some of his pawns to organize themselves at set intervals and attempt to tackle the tinker as he appeared. They had instructions to get off and away as swiftly as possible once they'd tackled him.

"We're taking this bastard down," he uttered through gritted teeth. "Hunter, be ready to line up a shot. Make the phrasing in your mind beforehand. I'll give the signal. You attach that thought process to the target as soon as they appear. Include avoidance measures for my thralls. Non-lethal if you must hit them."

He waited, and then...as soon as the Doctor appeared he signalled, "Now!"


Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


Letting out a breath as their maneuver turned out more or less successful, Evelyn found herself gritting her teeth and inhaling sharply as the feedback from her projection taking damage hit her. She shuddered and clutched at her head, but still the projection moved, unhindered by her distraction, its directives already in place. The aura had expanded around its body, crackling dangerously as it kept itself between the Wards and Protean.

The hole in its chest swirled and closed rapidly, arms collapsed into its body, only for four to reform in an instant. Evelyn managed a single command through her headache and as a result tar shot from where the hole in its chest had once been, firing at Mastar.

"Catch!" Evelyn managed through comms even as her head throbbed. She'd lost count of her projection's timer as well. Luckily it hadn't been active anywhere near five minutes just yet. This in mind she urged it to act, anger and pain egging it on as it took a step forwards with clawed feet digging into the ground before it suddenly dropped to all six limbs and its aura violently burned and chewed away at the ground before snapping back inwards. It expanded somewhat, then loped forwards, taking the rough form of something lupine, though with less of a head, whereas it also had six limbs and sharp barbs instead of fur bristling across its body.

"Messiah, hit it!" The projection kept its pace at Protean, making sure that two of three of its limbs—at all times—had claws dug into the floor. It would be much harder to blow away this time. If it got on Protean it would expand—rapidly—and then attempt to envelop him.

Around this time, the shots from Tiger Lily would go off and the confoam grenade would likely erupt nearby. Perhaps the projection and foam together would contain the traitor.
Chatterbox
Theme


Breathing out a sigh of relief as their plan succeeded, Chatterbox began using tap code, only for the madman to rise...and then vanish, replaced by something worrisome. "Shit," he uttered, and then yelled out at his thralls, "Run to the other end of the Concourse, get the hell away!"

Immediately they sprung into motion, but an of an oddly orderly sort as few of them jostled or knocked into eachother. Very few people fell, despite the quantity of people trying to get away. Chatterbox himself spoke to Whimsy, then Thunderbolt, "Whimsy, Ignore the ground underneat the blinking object. Bol—cancel that, everyone run!" With Thunder already in play he could only hope that Headhunter was taking his shot. That said he turned, hoping Whimsy would come along, and ran as fast as he could away from the blinking object.
Outsider


As Eyeblight escaped, a hollow thrum emanated from Outsider's form, the sound reminscent of a growl. "Dammit," he swore, then, getting an idea he called out to Sylph "Brace yourself!" A tentacle snaked out at incredible speed, snatching her up and pulling her back through the building, before moving up. A small pulse pushed a window inwards, as well as part of the wall, making sure that she would fit.

"Sorry to be rough. No time. Cut him off!" He then proceeded to deposit her into the room through the broken wall.
A Plan of Many Facets

A Collab by @Lugubrious, @BCTheEntity, @yoshua171, and @Gardevoiran


Evelyn made a face, but reacted quickly as she got feedback from the projection’s senses. Covered, drenched even, in a sticky substance. She activated comms, “Messiah, heat blast my projection” Even as she said it, the tulpa seemed to flex, having already received its modified directives from Evelyn.

Alessa had already gotten the point of what Protean was saying, and whilst she understood that maybe he had some lingering affection for them, it didn’t counteract how he’d been working against them so much. Indeed, Alessa was already burning the quills headed for her to nothing, and would already have simply engulfed him in a blast of overwhelming energy, if it hadn’t been for Lily behind him. Appropriate force output was one thing, harming one’s SO was quite another. So, an alternative to that seemed rather useful, even if it was somewhat counterintuitive; promptly, a ray of intense heat struck the projection, searing through some of the webbing to do so.

Immediately the projection practically exploded, the heat igniting and spreading over the entire surface of its body in an instant. It expanded into a two foot radius of exotic energy, electricity, and fire, incinerating the webbing in less than even half a second. In the same instance the projection’s preparations caused it to expand, about as fast as the aura itself, until it filled the hallway from wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor. The quills would have almost no choice but to strike it...or be almost immediately incinerated by the electrical current and intense heat surrounding its body.

“Hit the snake with a laser, save Tiger Lily,” she said, desperately hoping they’d be in time or that Tiger Lily had managed on her own.

In the time that it had taken Evelyn to say even that, the tulpa had recovered, going from its immobile, blob-like state to moving. The aura snapped back onto its body a few seconds after the quills struck it, but before even that it had reduced its size to fill only the center of the hall, regaining its limbs as it did so. As a direct result it was able to accelerate even faster, going from a jogging pace of 2.6 meters per second, to a running speed of 12.5 meters per second, and then to 16 in another moment.

Evelyn gave out additional orders through comms, “Messiah, If the projection closes distance, hit it with your power. Doesn’t have to be powerful. Use the aura to replenish your stores.” As it was about to reach Protean, its size decreased slightly--still making it about twice his size. It would have all of its limbs well in order, and appeared to be moving in an attempt to grapple the traitor.

Suffice to say, the projection was very impressive to behold. At first, Alessa wasn’t sure it hadn’t outright exploded when she hit it with her power, but the way it expanded at the same time to catch all the excess quills... hot damn. And it moved fast, as did Evelyn’s further instructions. Right, the snake! Running an arc about Protean to get the snake in her sights, she hit it with a lance of heat and light, perhaps more intense than it needed to be - but knowing Protean, he could well have reinforced it to be far more dense than that - whilst also frying the man’s head again. His whole head, antennae and all. She wasn’t going to risk his still being able to detect stuff so easily, though chances were she might have missed something even the second time around.

Evelyn might have smiled if a cold rage hadn’t been what drove her in the moment. Instead the edges of her lips twitched. Refocusing as an idea struck her she called over comms again, “Mastar, throw a bunch of your tar at my projection. I’ve got an idea!” She paused a moment then added, “Margrave, any way you can occupy Protean’s attention further would be helpful. Tiger Lily, if you’re still in play,” I hope you are, she thought, leaving it unsaid, “...then do the same, we want him pinned and on his back foot.”

”Way ahead of you,” came Margrave’s response. If one glanced his way, separate from the rest and never really at risk for a quill-puncturing, one could see his submachine gun tucked under his arm as he labored with great intensity on something in his hands. After a couple seconds, the antihero finished the wall of lego bricks he’d been building, and after taking it in one hand he hurled it Protean’s way. The moment it left his proximity the assembly sprang to a full-size brick wall, three feet high and five feet wide, flying at the traitor like a massive frisbee.

Mastar heard Evelyn’s call over the comms, and immediately nodded to herself. The spines that were shot at the tarry blob were ineffective since they were blocked almost entirely by the projection, but it wasn’t a terrible worry anyway, since the girl could easily switch into her fully viscous state to soak up the damage. The tar girl turned her head towards the tulpa and flashed a smile, her entire left arm leaving her form, save for the small bump where her shoulder would be. Meanwhile, the right arm grew twice its normal size and seeped down into a large droplet.

”Tar incoming!” Mastar called as she spun around, her deformed arm picking up momentum before it separated from the rest of her body. Of course, it sent Mastar back towards the wall, but the arm found itself flung towards the projection and heading to the shadowy figure quite fast.

The tar struck it square in the back, but the tulpa seemed almost not to notice, except in that the tar was pulled into its body. Once it had absorbed the tar it attempted to swivel to Protean’s side, sensing the Margrave’s attack and giving it a chance to strike Protean. A moment later it had more limbs, all stabbing at Protean, its size almost filling the hallway, its speed and strength and ability to adjust trajectory more than considerable. If it managed to strike and pierce Protean it would latch on and pump the absorbed tar directly into the shapeshifter’s body. Beyond that, if it managed to grapple as well, Messiah would hit it with her power and it would light up in a storm of burning, shocking energy.
T̛̪̤̰̩̥̰̥̺͝H̢͔͍e҉͚̘̩ uNkń҉͍̬͇͇Ǫ̛̟̠W̶̼̜̝̥ͅiNg SpURn̶̸̛̻̙E̡̥̮͙̳̥̣͡͝D̠̠̘͝

"J U S T I C E"
Berlin, Germany
Consumer Tech Conference


You're the camera man, nestled in a booth high above the floor where citizens bustle about below. There's windows so despite the cameras present for you to watch the goings on you're staring down at the floor manually. There's an air of excitement which you're almost high on--you idiot--and you find that time is getting away from you when you look at one of the many screens. It's been eight hours. Confused you doubletake, then rise from your seat as the world snaps into focus and you notice something bizarrely off about all the images displaying the main hall.

In a particular area things are blurrier around people, but not everyone. Sometimes it just seems like it's normal blur from people running or otherwise moving through the room. Then it becomes apparent that that isn't it. Some of the stationary people are blurred...distorted. Your eyes widen, and your pupils dilate. Suddenly you're on the floor and it's so warm.
S̩̫̝̖̽͛ͯḽ̝̂̊ͣ̈̂̕e͆ͩͣ̿͏͙̥̫̭̙͉e̪̲̲̫̩̪̦ͨ̌ͭͧ̄̀p̢͖̼̪̠ͬ͂̓ͩ̿

It's an unheard command, resonating through the fabric of the rift, warbling in defiant. Some men turn their heads, but no one notices.... No one, no, instead a suited fellow stops mid-sentence and tilts his head.
Boil and pus corrodes your mind. You--

"Quiet you Cusp." The cameraman, awake again, sees the screens and everyone except him and the man are motionless, caught in stasis. Where before there were kid, now gone. Only those above the ascending ages.

"Calling out here is forbidden," the main says, loosening his tie and removing a device from his pockey.

It was magnificent. Sleek, complex, multifooceted, and other such douchery. You get the idea, it was a high tech, multidimensatudinal "Swiss" Not actually designed by the Swiss Army Knife. The unseen entity shuddered and as it did the lines in reality blurred and the blurred in the lines reality'd and the kid kooded and became coden and the man suddenly had a Codex, and the entry said

Who for art thou my Romea*, Why for art thou the destroyer who serves the Orange. Who serves the served, who is a server, who is the waiter at your birthday, singing a song of Vibrational Matrices, warping your mind, warping the kid, begettening them. It is from the Outside Without Insides. It fears confidence and that which who is the rending of sole.

You get the idea.

The man glances up from the codex and the blurring of the world is suddenly worsened as people beocum indistinguishable from smears of pain---t, their essentidus pulled in a vortex to the man as wings of black shattered riftstrains open from his back, extending. Light shines and carries out and is devoured.

IT shudders. IT cannot serve its master.
FLEE

The Man grasps at the air and it shatters and is gotten. The Servant who Lies Unseen, who devours Unheard, who Corrupts Unspent, is swotten and smattered across the space.

The cameras return to normal, numerous people collapse. The "Swiss" Army Knife is drawn across the Man's throat and a strange lack of color filters out of him. He colfallses to the ground, but there is no mark.

You wonder what you've witnessed.

I wonder why I bother explaining it.

Yet here we are and yet we are here where we are.

"Who are you?" The Cameraman, Asc'thomas JameGren, precludes to me.

Oh me? I am just trapped here, much like you. I watch and I fill my time by describing the events of the fucked up worlds your kind--and others--reside in. Nothing serious. Just an observer.

Asc'thomas appears baffled...and then his expression goes blank and briefly the light in his eyes is grey, and white, and black, so grey once more. Then red, then he is not the Cameraman, then the Cameras are frustrated and shuddering with static, then he is Asc'thomas again, the red gone from his eyes, the unearthly sense gone from him.

"Wh-wha?"

Don't worry about it, that was just The Beyonder, even they are meaningless.

Anyways, have fun dealing with the trauma of being uncolored.

"What?"


Far above a twisted reflection cast its gaze upon Universia, otherwise known as The Fourth Dimensional Planesworld, the world in which men and mer primarly dwell. You know, simplistic shit you should know by now. Ugh. Anyways, they're watcching and they're like big...and a mirror or whatever. Probably minorly important at lest.

Just keep it in mind I guess.

Bye.

Run. He returns.
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