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2 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
2 yrs ago
Man i'm bored. Arena, someone fight me or something, I don't know....
2 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
2 yrs ago
Get kid.
2 likes

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Arena Stats

4 Wins / 2 Losses / 0 Draws
1400 points

Most Recent Posts

Chatterbox
Theme


Intrigued by the newcomer, he let her speak, as well as allowing the others to chime in. Something of a back and forth it was. Amusing, though perhaps not as satisfying what with the lack of his involvement.

No matter.

"Welcome to the team, ah, Alloy." He flashed her a grin, "I'm Chatterbox, but you can call me CB." He walked over to the table and sat down. Briefly he considered her power, "It will be useful to have someone with your talents on the team. I can't wait to put your power to good use, so to speak."

He paused, considering something, then snapped his fingers, "Did the boss inform you of our abilities beforehand?" It was good to know if she needed to updated on the state of things. Of course, he was wondering a host of other things, such as her tactical and strategic ability. Her intelligence. Her tendencies.... Perhaps her phone number. However, those would come in time.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


While she felt some relief at the Director's words, there were other parts of what he was saying that made something in her itch and balk. She kept her mouth shut thought, her eyes darting around occassionally. Deep breaths, slow, quiet breaths. They didn't respond well to her emotions, the fact that this mattered to her. They didn't see it, they didn't really understand. So rather than say anything further to Kens or the other she just nodded and turned to go.

On her way out, however, Alessa got her attention. She stopped, but didn't turn back, onoly moving her head slightly in recognition of her teammate. She wasn't happy with how this had turned out, or started, or went. What more could Alessa offer? She wasn't really in charge, all she did was push the paper for the wards and take point on the field. She couldn't change anyone's mind at the top, she didn't have any clout, any pull...any control.

"Thanks Alessa," she responded. When she turned and looked at the girl there was a weak, but seemingly genuine smile, on her face. It even went to her eyes. Still, there was something almost...defeated about the Evelyn that anyone looking would see.

It only lasted a moment and she didn't even make an attempt to communicate further, instead turning away and walking out. She'd felt so good about today, they'd put bad people away, protected innocent civilian lives. She'd thought it would be two less villains out there where they could hurt people. Instead it was just one...and the other one would go back out—presumably in the guise of a hero. The thought was a twisted one, it perverted everything she'd thought she knew about the PRT, the Protectorate...the Wards.

As she walked down the hall and made her way out of the holding area, she glanced down at her hands.

'Am I the only one who knows the difference?' She wondered.

'Is my view just as warped as theirs...by association?'

A frown crossed her features and she brushed hair from her eyes absently. In doing so she caught a glimpse of a silver 'shadow'. She looked at it, then turned her attention to it through her power. Her projection was...sprawling. A huge net spreading through the walls and floors and anywhere that people weren't.

The realization of the amount of space it was covering, the sheer mass froze her midway up the stairs. She stood there a moment, breathing with slow practiced breaths. She'd forgotten that she was trying to stay calm, but was glad that she'd kept up the practice, glad that she'd had the training and that it had really stuck with her.

Focusing, she made the silver shadow shrink, condensing it and warping it to hide with her. She kind of understood it now, in a way. It was like the others in the meeting room, but it was like her too. It started out pure, but in the world it...it didn't stay that way. It was a more fragile thing than her in its way, its mind decaying the longer it was exposed.

Yet, it was predictable now. Now that she knew that. Now that she understood it.

She started walking again and when she got to the ground floor she gave a few tired waves to the staff before leaving. She didn't want to be around anyone right now. Or well, she didn't want to be around any of them.

To get her mind off things, maybe once she got home, she'd go shopping. Somewhere she could go alone. She'd pick up a music player too, that way it wouldn't just be the quiet of her mind.

That would be nice. Yeah, she'd go buy a new outfit or two.

What a good idea.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


Her eyes darted between the heroes and on some level she registered their reactions, their sudden wariness, the worry, the tension, and perhaps the smallest hint of fear.

Her idols...opposing her, no, opposing what was right. Putting away the bad guys, the evil in the world. Protecting people from them. Making sure they didn't have a chance to hurt anyone again. How did they not see it??

Interrupting her consideration of how to handle this revelation, Alessa arrived...getting between her and Lillian.

Her thoughts snagged on something, a trauma, ugly and painful. Guilt. She wouldn't hurt Lillian...even if she was furious. Her power had done it once, she wouldn't let it happen again. The fact that Alessa was protecting the younger girl, as if she was going to hurt their teammate. As if she was some--

Alessa's words struck her and a hot flash of rage rolled through her, it felt like her vision went red for a moment, just a flash. She clenched her hands into fists, digging nails into flesh, the tension in her jaw apparent. She exhaled, but it came out in two strangled words, hurt, affronted, disappointed, "You too?" She turned her back to 'Messiah,' what a traitor. How dare she.

As Inkscape spoke she honed in on him. Already, through her mind went permutations of the powers in her grasp. Materials cinched together like puzzle pieces, concepts fitting into place.

Silver light began drifting down from the ceiling, becoming the silhouette of something long and many limbed.

The Director's words interrupted her and a surge of outrage flared then rapidly cooled, warping into something less, but more twisted. She gripped the cloth of her shirt at the bottom, then her leg, clawing at herself even as she exhaled. The silver silhouette 'relaxed' into something vague, more like a cloud of indistinct light, and then vanished.

She swallowed, her head...clearer, but...but it didn't feel right. Her emotions were tangled, chaotic. She stumbled, even while the others entered the conferance room. She managed to follow, but appeared faintly disoriented.

Still she didn't sit down with the others, even despite feeling suddenly shaky, as if her stance maybe weren't so strong and righteous, as if her beliefs maybe weren't quite so valid...maybe because everyone clearly did not agree with her. She stood as far from the others as she could while still being in the room.

Something in her didn't want anything to do with them in that moment, but she couldn't leave either. She felt too strongly about this...too strongly. She felt her frown deepen. She'd been frowning? Was she really so disconnected that she hadn't realized what her face was doing?

Crossing her arms she hugged herself as if cold and found that she was shaking. Adrenaline maybe?

Director Kens kept going on about the situation about Shatte—no...about 'Quintana,' the boy behind the mask. Around their ages, abused, bullied...driven to this. She saw the path that could lead someone to the actions she'd witnessed and read reports about, but...it didn't connect.

Just because there was a justification, a reason, that Shatterpoint had done what he'd done didn't make it right, okay, or excusable.

She swallowed, shuffling her feet, then made a decision. Yet, when she spoke up, there wasn't much conviction in her voice and she couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

"If you induct him into the Wards, I'm not working with him and if you intend to make me, you can consider this a resignation." She fell silent, averting her gaze so she stared sidelong at a wall, trying not to look at anyone.

The 'shadow' of her power occasionally blipped out from the ceiling, its form expanded in an unseen shroud between floors, looming over and around the conference room. It wasn't a conscious manipulation or an attempt at escalation or intimidation, but it was there.
Lilliana Merrycure


Returned to her crew after the fight, Lilli sat near Bonesword and leaned heavily into her chair, thoroughly exhausted. Still, she watched the next bout intently, largely administering to her own wounds as best as she was able. A shot from one of her syringes helped perk her up a bit, but she knew that she wasn't really in any condition for a second bout.

Frowning at the vitriol the badger spat throughout, Lilli was entirely unsurprised when Joane lost. Still, it had been fairly impressive, she wished that perhaps she could see the honey badger in a more fair fight in the future. Perhaps then her bravado would be worth something.

Glancing away from the proceedings between matches, she looked to Bonesword as he got up. She tried, and failed, to grab his boney hand. Fortunately, her son knew his limits well and returned, asking Boone to fight instead.

Grateful at their captain's response she smiled, letting out a relieved sigh. “Come back over here you boney boy and keep me company,” she said, beckoning Bonesword back, a tired smile on her lips. Even B-M.O seemed sluggish, the metallic organism barely apparent as little metal stubs at her shoulder blades and a faint silver tint to her skin.

If she hadn't known her body so well she'd have thought she felt like death.

If.
Chatterbox
Theme


Arriving with the rest, Chatterbox took to reading the document once they'd taken care to bind Xolotl, he'd take care of the enthralling the man later. Let him...stew for a time. Looking things over he was initially slightly put off and confused, but as he considered the possibilities he warmed to the idea.

Then Thunderbolt spoke up. A small grin formed on his lips as he turned to the man, hooking his thumbs into his pockets. "Well, that sounds like a good start, but really I think we could do even better than that," His gaze passed over those present and his grin grew into something more malevolent. There was a devious glint in his eyes, "Using my...extensive network of thralls I think we can get to crimes before the Protectorate or authorities do. We can stop them...publicly, then leave. Even better, I can spread my influence as we do." He chuckled, "In fact, I'll have a whole new setup for it. We can stage crimes and catch those in progress, and then stop them cold. Occasionally we can steal or hurt maybe just a little too much. Can't let the negative view get too low. We need fear and respect or adoration in equal measures I think."

He put a hand on Thunderbolt's shoulder, metting his eyes, "What do ya say we do this as a team, rather than individually?"

Whether the others consented or not was of no consequence to him. He was going to do it anyways and he was going to have just the most fun doing it.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


Having returned home with her parents to eat and have a bit of off time, Evelyn decided she wanted to head back to base. Feeling better after the meal, she said farewell to her mom and dad, getting much needed hugs, before she departed. There was a lot on her mind. Why had the Rockers attacked such a well defended event? It didn't make any sense. Was Ceramix really that stupid? Was Shatterpoint?

Finding a small alcove nearby she shed her outer clothes, revealing her costume. She put her civvies in her backpack and then, briefly, manifested her projection. It was much larger than her, but more in the space it filled, rather than its own size. It had long spindly limbs, and a lot of them. Its back was covered in spines. She grabbed onto its back and held on tight, positioning her feet as it casually climbed into the wall of the alley and began hoisting her up with it. After a few brief moments they were on the roof. With a shudder, she willed it to return to its inert state.

Hugging herself she closed her eyes, for though she was reassured by its departure, the presence of her tulpa still bothered her to a degree. It wasn't as bad as it had been, but she had to take a moment to calm her beating heart. While she took that time she willed her projection in the direction of HQ. It took about three seconds for it to arrive. Once it had she spread it out into a wide web-like network of hyper thin strands of silver light. It swept through the building, scanning materials and any capes present—she tried to avoid Collin's room, but still she got a read on him. Confused that she hadn't gotten hit with a headache, she tilted her head.

She even staggered back a bit. What the hell? She either got blank space or a headache from the nullification field, but she'd...scanned him? Her brow screwing up in a frown, Evelyn tried to grasp at what that might mean.

Had Ira maybe found a way to stabilize his power with her tinkertech? She should check in with him, but more important, she needed to check in with the higher ups about the two villains in holding.

"Hmm, Captain Morales, Inkscape, Protean, Decoy, Sylph, Tiger Lily, Messiah, Epsilon, Sonar, Shatterpoint, aand Ceramix," she counted them on her fingers, putting her thumb down as she hit eleven. It was a good amount to work with. Probably more than enough. She hadn't expected to get access to Sylph or Sonar.

First, she formulated what she wanted. Something fast, but that wouldn't jostle her around or garner the city's attention too much. Maneuverable.

She gave it the traits of gas and rubber and stone. It would be sturdy and flexible, but far lighter than it ought to be. It would draw on energy faintly with Messiah's power, transmutating it into high precision blasts of Wind with mechanics from Protean and a focus from Shatterpoint and Sylph. She crafted it with wings and frills. It would wrap around her like a suit or Epsilon's jetpack, giving her a tail, wings and frills coming from her back. For fun she had its base color scheme match her costume. It would move silently, using a combination of Sonar's power and Messiah's to absorb the vibration energy and have that fuel other part of its power. Its form could vary somewhat, shifting to help it fly. She gave it a bit from Decoy, mixing the focus ot the tinker power with Protean's, giving it—and her—something like a cloaking field. She even worked Epsilon's trump powers into there. She didn't want to end up having to deal with the incredible G-forces of moving as fast as she planned to go.

Everything formulated, she opened her eyes. A whole minute and thirty had passed. Laughing a bit to herself she took a breath and manifested her projection. It appeared in the air, wrapping parts of itself around her shoulders, waist, and torso like a living climbing harness. When she felt sufficiently secured she got a running start and found that her footsteps made no sound.

It was working!

The deciding moment came when she jumped off the roof. The tulpa's body unfurled into wings and frills, catching the natural wind, but she kept falling. A look of panic briefly crossed her face before—rather suddenly—it angled off and soared upwards. She squeeled and laughed, the panic turning into excitement. This felt great!

The projection turned and headed towards HQ with her in its embrace. It accelerated rapidly, but strangely she wasn't being buffetted by the wind or struck by bugs, dust, or other detritus. She closed her eyes, finally finding enough trust in her power to focus on its innerworkings for a moment.

"Huh," she exclaimed thoughtfully. Apparently it was redirecting the non-air material around her and elsewhere as a natural extension of its prime function: Defending her. Interesting.

Minutes passed and she soon noticed that she had an bird's eye view of PRT Headquarters. Smiling, her face still a bit flushed and her hair wild from the flight, she directed her projection to land right at the doors, but to avoid any collisions. It did so swiftly and easily, dust and air pushing out as she set foot on the ground. Her heart still beating fast, she focused and her projection vanished, dispersing into silver light.

A smile on her face, she entered the building, greeting some of the office workers and civilians as she did. That had really done wonders for her mood. Still, to business! Casting out with her senses, Evelyn located the two villains and—as she did—noticed that some of the members of the Protectorate were also in that area. 'Score~' She thought happily. She loved seeing them, almost regardless of the situation.

Making her way through HQ she soon heard voices carrying through the hall and to her ears. She tilted her head and continued her approach, noticing Lillian as she did.

She raised her hand, opening her mouth to form a greeting just as Director Kens responsed to Captain Morales.

She slowed, and then stopped. Lillian cut in and confusion flashed across Evelyn's face—she wasn't wearing her mask anymore.

"Please? I know it's the right thing to do."

Her breath caught in her throat, but still she managed to get one word out and that single word—more than anything else she could have said—was filled with such hurt, outrage, disgust, and confusion that it rang almost violently through the hall.

"What?"


There was a question there, but it was rhetorical. Anyone looking at her could tell from her body language, and the look on her face. Eyebrows creased, lips pursed. Anger, disgust, outrage.

Betrayal.

Silver light flashed through the room...then vanished.

Her hands were balled tightly into fists, nails digging into her palms viciously. Her jaw was clenched, teeth grinding faintly. Her throat and chest felt tight and hot as the emotions raged through her. She didn't look like someone who had just been insulted or someone who had misunderstood something and overreacted.

She looked like she was ready for a fight.


Premise

The year is 2051 in the island metropolis of Ominar.

Night hung over the ocean like a pall of roiling smoke, the gentle curls of pitch-dark brine batting it away for a brief second before it settled against the still surface again--a dance of two steps executed in rhythmic harmony. The motion of the waves breathed life into the dark, and it encroached readily across the glassine surface of the water until it broke upon the shore of a magnificent island. It lapped upon the shore like a second sea, buffeting the onyx black rock in its clamour for the distant brightness above, but finding no purchase, and sinking back to its lonely duet with the water.

In stark contrast to the murky depths of the island, an effulgent radiance blanketed the distant beyond. Argent lights danced languidly across the glassy windows of the many skyscrapers that pierced the bustling city’s skyline, cavorting with the caliginous hues of night painting themselves where the light could not reach. Wind whistled between the buildings, bringing with it the briny scent of the surf that encompassed the island. Even at night, the city was alive with movement. Sights and sounds radiated from every which way, a unique symphony of cultures and races woven together into a sonorous tapestry that could only be found here, on the shores of the place called Ominar--humanity’s metropolis. A bastion of magic and magitech, and a haven to all three of the races: those born of chaos and discovery--Licentia; those born of order and stability--Prae; and those born somewhere between, with so many choices to make--Humans. A city born of a necessity for both equality and progress. Beneath the velvet blanket of midnight, everyone is equal: but the night does not last forever.

Soon dawn cuts across the depths below and the sky above, smattering its dappled light across the breadth of Ominar. The atmosphere of the city shifted in its wake, from intrigue and mystique to something sterile and refined. In this city, in the harsh brightness of day, money spoke louder than the music of the night. Where cultures once danced together in a cacophony of color and sound the orderly shuffle of business now reigns. Though the streets are still filled with life and movement, it is a much different sort to that which dominates the night--when this city breathes, the world moves to accommodate it.

Though the gentle lustre of the moon delicately frames the interplay of light and shadow, the coruscating sun is harsh, casting its shadow deeper down into the realm of murk and gloom. Beneath this veil the underbelly of the great city churns unending, feeding on everything the daylight scares away and pouring out misery and profit in equal measure. Ominar is a city of progress, built by--and for--those with drive and purpose. It caters not to the mundane, and it suffers not the indolent. And so, as with all things burningly bright, it casts a vast shadow--one whose presence is only made more terrible when weighed against the light it shuns.

Extreme as the cycle may be, it is natural to Ominar. Every nook and cranny filled with shadow, every mote of light in the sky--these are simply part of something greater than themselves, simply part of nature. And yet, even in this great to and fro, there are foreign elements. The ebb of the tide brings with it something neither light nor dark--a vessel borne from faraway shores. Its passengers bear familiar faces, but harbour an unseen intent.

As they step into the bounds of the city, as they alight upon its dock and climb its crested hill, they bring with them the beginnings of something else. A whisper of a wave whets its growing appetite upon the shore, rebounding with greater strength again and again and again.

Though unformed as yet, it is wave that will leave nothing unchanged in its wake.

It is your choice whether this tide wipes the slate clean for you to build an empire atop, or you resist its inexorable push and fight to preserve what is.

How will you fare when history’s reins are thrust upon you?

Information

The below is but a primer, informing you to the races of Manifest Anima. There is much more where this came from!

Humans

Humans are still your generic fantasy race! They have the highest threshold for magic of the three races. Rarely, particularly powerful human mages are born with natural purple hair.

Prae

The prae are a humanoid race that hail from the realm known as Priscus. Prae share many physiological similarities with humans--including vital organs, cellular structure, and endocrine systems--but with a few key differences. Prae are born with a crystal that is located somewhere on their head (almost always the forehead, though exceedingly rare exceptions do exist) that draws in ambient vis from the environment. This sustenance of vis is required in addition to the caloric sustenance they would obtain through other methods, and prae biology is not well-suited to the consumption of vis-infused food or water, so the crystal is a vital part of their biology. The prae ostium is comprised of narrower channels than a human's, also, which leads prae to have reduced innate magical ability. Prae also have markings that occur naturally (originating from their crystal) and represent something important to them. Prae reach maturity at 18, and age slowly from there on out. Depending on the level of ambient vis available to them, they are capable of reaching up to approximately 800 years of age.

Licentia

Licentia are, at their core, beings of chaos and change. Where Prae dwell comfortably in the bedrock of Order, and humans soundly between the two, Licentia are never comfortable and never satisfied with the state of the world… almost as a rule. They are highly individual beings, with no two being quite alike, even within a given species. However, there exist certain things that unite them, no matter what form they take, what magic they wield, or what goals they pursue.

What to Expect

Below are detailed some of the rules, expectations, and of course, themes for the RP.

  • After a GM makes a plot post, we'll wait a week for everyone to make theirs! If you don't make it in a week, we'll keep moving forward--unless you let us know, and we're more than willing to offer you a little extra time. Try not to make it a routine thing, though, because other players rely on you to keep this whole story moving! You're an important piece of the puzzle we're all trying to put together.
  • This is, first and foremost, a story that we're all telling. With stories comes growth. Whether that is growth as a person, or growth in power, wealth, or whatever flavour you might prefer, it is a story that is all yours to tell. Your character is important, and we invite you to tell their story along with ours; even if huge plot stuff is happening, your character's life can still have a role, and it should. Big things will happen--whether or not your character has more important things to worry about is up to you, and we invite you to take your plots where you want them to go."
  • With the fantastic level of depth in the lore present in Manifest Anima, an equally incredible amount of creativity and variety is made possible. In addition to simply playing with the existing lore, there is always the option of building upon something or creating something new--we want you to be able to take ownership of aspects of the world. If you want to simply play with what we have that’s wonderful, and you are welcome to, but try to keep in mind that the option to make something new and fresh, is always open! Enriching the world and everyone’s experience in it is what we aim to do, and what we aim for you to be able to do as well.
  • In Manifest Anima there is a strong focus on interaction, consequences, and player choice. It is designed to evolve with its players and while there is a plan, it can deviate wildly depending on how those involved interact with the world and the elements presented--or implied.
  • Active and interactive GM team! We have three people who are genuinely dedicated to this project and want everyone to have a great time. If you’re having trouble, let us know, we’re there to help!


Premise

The year is 2051 in the island metropolis of Ominar.

Night hung over the ocean like a pall of roiling smoke, the gentle curls of pitch-dark brine batting it away for a brief second before it settled against the still surface again--a dance of two steps executed in rhythmic harmony. The motion of the waves breathed life into the dark, and it encroached readily across the glassine surface of the water until it broke upon the shore of a magnificent island. It lapped upon the shore like a second sea, buffeting the onyx black rock in its clamour for the distant brightness above, but finding no purchase, and sinking back to its lonely duet with the water.

In stark contrast to the murky depths of the island, an effulgent radiance blanketed the distant beyond. Argent lights danced languidly across the glassy windows of the many skyscrapers that pierced the bustling city’s skyline, cavorting with the caliginous hues of night painting themselves where the light could not reach. Wind whistled between the buildings, bringing with it the briny scent of the surf that encompassed the island. Even at night, the city was alive with movement. Sights and sounds radiated from every which way, a unique symphony of cultures and races woven together into a sonorous tapestry that could only be found here, on the shores of the place called Ominar--humanity’s metropolis. A bastion of magic and magitech, and a haven to all three of the races: those born of chaos and discovery--Licentia; those born of order and stability--Prae; and those born somewhere between, with so many choices to make--Humans. A city born of a necessity for both equality and progress. Beneath the velvet blanket of midnight, everyone is equal: but the night does not last forever.

Soon dawn cuts across the depths below and the sky above, smattering its dappled light across the breadth of Ominar. The atmosphere of the city shifted in its wake, from intrigue and mystique to something sterile and refined. In this city, in the harsh brightness of day, money spoke louder than the music of the night. Where cultures once danced together in a cacophony of color and sound the orderly shuffle of business now reigns. Though the streets are still filled with life and movement, it is a much different sort to that which dominates the night--when this city breathes, the world moves to accommodate it.

Though the gentle lustre of the moon delicately frames the interplay of light and shadow, the coruscating sun is harsh, casting its shadow deeper down into the realm of murk and gloom. Beneath this veil the underbelly of the great city churns unending, feeding on everything the daylight scares away and pouring out misery and profit in equal measure. Ominar is a city of progress, built by--and for--those with drive and purpose. It caters not to the mundane, and it suffers not the indolent. And so, as with all things burningly bright, it casts a vast shadow--one whose presence is only made more terrible when weighed against the light it shuns.

Extreme as the cycle may be, it is natural to Ominar. Every nook and cranny filled with shadow, every mote of light in the sky--these are simply part of something greater than themselves, simply part of nature. And yet, even in this great to and fro, there are foreign elements. The ebb of the tide brings with it something neither light nor dark--a vessel borne from faraway shores. Its passengers bear familiar faces, but harbour an unseen intent.

As they step into the bounds of the city, as they alight upon its dock and climb its crested hill, they bring with them the beginnings of something else. A whisper of a wave whets its growing appetite upon the shore, rebounding with greater strength again and again and again.

Though unformed as yet, it is wave that will leave nothing unchanged in its wake.

It is your choice whether this tide wipes the slate clean for you to build an empire atop, or you resist its inexorable push and fight to preserve what is.

How will you fare when history’s reins are thrust upon you?

Information

The below is but a primer, informing you to the races of Manifest Anima. There is much more where this came from!

Humans

Humans are still your generic fantasy race! They have the highest threshold for magic of the three races. Rarely, particularly powerful human mages are born with natural purple hair.

Prae

The prae are a humanoid race that hail from the realm known as Priscus. Prae share many physiological similarities with humans--including vital organs, cellular structure, and endocrine systems--but with a few key differences. Prae are born with a crystal that is located somewhere on their head (almost always the forehead, though exceedingly rare exceptions do exist) that draws in ambient vis from the environment. This sustenance of vis is required in addition to the caloric sustenance they would obtain through other methods, and prae biology is not well-suited to the consumption of vis-infused food or water, so the crystal is a vital part of their biology. The prae ostium is comprised of narrower channels than a human's, also, which leads prae to have reduced innate magical ability. Prae also have markings that occur naturally (originating from their crystal) and represent something important to them. Prae reach maturity at 18, and age slowly from there on out. Depending on the level of ambient vis available to them, they are capable of reaching up to approximately 800 years of age.

Licentia

Licentia are, at their core, beings of chaos and change. Where Prae dwell comfortably in the bedrock of Order, and humans soundly between the two, Licentia are never comfortable and never satisfied with the state of the world… almost as a rule. They are highly individual beings, with no two being quite alike, even within a given species. However, there exist certain things that unite them, no matter what form they take, what magic they wield, or what goals they pursue.

What to Expect

Below are detailed some of the rules, expectations, and of course, themes for the RP.

  • After a GM makes a plot post, we'll wait a week for everyone to make theirs! If you don't make it in a week, we'll keep moving forward--unless you let us know, and we're more than willing to offer you a little extra time. Try not to make it a routine thing, though, because other players rely on you to keep this whole story moving! You're an important piece of the puzzle we're all trying to put together.
  • This is, first and foremost, a story that we're all telling. With stories comes growth. Whether that is growth as a person, or growth in power, wealth, or whatever flavour you might prefer, it is a story that is all yours to tell. Your character is important, and we invite you to tell their story along with ours; even if huge plot stuff is happening, your character's life can still have a role, and it should. Big things will happen--whether or not your character has more important things to worry about is up to you, and we invite you to take your plots where you want them to go."
  • With the fantastic level of depth in the lore present in Manifest Anima, an equally incredible amount of creativity and variety is made possible. In addition to simply playing with the existing lore, there is always the option of building upon something or creating something new--we want you to be able to take ownership of aspects of the world. If you want to simply play with what we have that’s wonderful, and you are welcome to, but try to keep in mind that the option to make something new and fresh, is always open! Enriching the world and everyone’s experience in it is what we aim to do, and what we aim for you to be able to do as well.
  • In Manifest Anima there is a strong focus on interaction, consequences, and player choice. It is designed to evolve with its players and while there is a plan, it can deviate wildly depending on how those involved interact with the world and the elements presented--or implied.
  • Active and interactive GM team! We have three people who are genuinely dedicated to this project and want everyone to have a great time. If you’re having trouble, let us know, we’re there to help!


Premise

The year is 2051 in the island metropolis of Ominar.

Night hung over the ocean like a pall of roiling smoke, the gentle curls of pitch-dark brine batting it away for a brief second before it settled against the still surface again--a dance of two steps executed in rhythmic harmony. The motion of the waves breathed life into the dark, and it encroached readily across the glassine surface of the water until it broke upon the shore of a magnificent island. It lapped upon the shore like a second sea, buffeting the onyx black rock in its clamour for the distant brightness above, but finding no purchase, and sinking back to its lonely duet with the water.

In stark contrast to the murky depths of the island, an effulgent radiance blanketed the distant beyond. Argent lights danced languidly across the glassy windows of the many skyscrapers that pierced the bustling city’s skyline, cavorting with the caliginous hues of night painting themselves where the light could not reach. Wind whistled between the buildings, bringing with it the briny scent of the surf that encompassed the island. Even at night, the city was alive with movement. Sights and sounds radiated from every which way, a unique symphony of cultures and races woven together into a sonorous tapestry that could only be found here, on the shores of the place called Ominar--humanity’s metropolis. A bastion of magic and magitech, and a haven to all three of the races: those born of chaos and discovery--Licentia; those born of order and stability--Prae; and those born somewhere between, with so many choices to make--Humans. A city born of a necessity for both equality and progress. Beneath the velvet blanket of midnight, everyone is equal: but the night does not last forever.

Soon dawn cuts across the depths below and the sky above, smattering its dappled light across the breadth of Ominar. The atmosphere of the city shifted in its wake, from intrigue and mystique to something sterile and refined. In this city, in the harsh brightness of day, money spoke louder than the music of the night. Where cultures once danced together in a cacophony of color and sound the orderly shuffle of business now reigns. Though the streets are still filled with life and movement, it is a much different sort to that which dominates the night--when this city breathes, the world moves to accommodate it.

Though the gentle lustre of the moon delicately frames the interplay of light and shadow, the coruscating sun is harsh, casting its shadow deeper down into the realm of murk and gloom. Beneath this veil the underbelly of the great city churns unending, feeding on everything the daylight scares away and pouring out misery and profit in equal measure. Ominar is a city of progress, built by--and for--those with drive and purpose. It caters not to the mundane, and it suffers not the indolent. And so, as with all things burningly bright, it casts a vast shadow--one whose presence is only made more terrible when weighed against the light it shuns.

Extreme as the cycle may be, it is natural to Ominar. Every nook and cranny filled with shadow, every mote of light in the sky--these are simply part of something greater than themselves, simply part of nature. And yet, even in this great to and fro, there are foreign elements. The ebb of the tide brings with it something neither light nor dark--a vessel borne from faraway shores. Its passengers bear familiar faces, but harbour an unseen intent.

As they step into the bounds of the city, as they alight upon its dock and climb its crested hill, they bring with them the beginnings of something else. A whisper of a wave whets its growing appetite upon the shore, rebounding with greater strength again and again and again.

Though unformed as yet, it is wave that will leave nothing unchanged in its wake.

It is your choice whether this tide wipes the slate clean for you to build an empire atop, or you resist its inexorable push and fight to preserve what is.

How will you fare when history’s reins are thrust upon you?

Information

The below is but a primer, informing you to the races of Manifest Anima. There is much more where this came from!

Humans

Humans are still your generic fantasy race! They have the highest threshold for magic of the three races. Rarely, particularly powerful human mages are born with natural purple hair.

Prae

The prae are a humanoid race that hail from the realm known as Priscus. Prae share many physiological similarities with humans--including vital organs, cellular structure, and endocrine systems--but with a few key differences. Prae are born with a crystal that is located somewhere on their head (almost always the forehead, though exceedingly rare exceptions do exist) that draws in ambient vis from the environment. This sustenance of vis is required in addition to the caloric sustenance they would obtain through other methods, and prae biology is not well-suited to the consumption of vis-infused food or water, so the crystal is a vital part of their biology. The prae ostium is comprised of narrower channels than a human's, also, which leads prae to have reduced innate magical ability. Prae also have markings that occur naturally (originating from their crystal) and represent something important to them. Prae reach maturity at 18, and age slowly from there on out. Depending on the level of ambient vis available to them, they are capable of reaching up to approximately 800 years of age.

Licentia

Licentia are, at their core, beings of chaos and change. Where Prae dwell comfortably in the bedrock of Order, and humans soundly between the two, Licentia are never comfortable and never satisfied with the state of the world… almost as a rule. They are highly individual beings, with no two being quite alike, even within a given species. However, there exist certain things that unite them, no matter what form they take, what magic they wield, or what goals they pursue.

What to Expect

Below are detailed some of the rules, expectations, and of course, themes for the RP.

  • After a GM makes a plot post, we'll wait a week for everyone to make theirs! If you don't make it in a week, we'll keep moving forward--unless you let us know, and we're more than willing to offer you a little extra time. Try not to make it a routine thing, though, because other players rely on you to keep this whole story moving! You're an important piece of the puzzle we're all trying to put together.
  • This is, first and foremost, a story that we're all telling. With stories comes growth. Whether that is growth as a person, or growth in power, wealth, or whatever flavour you might prefer, it is a story that is all yours to tell. Your character is important, and we invite you to tell their story along with ours; even if huge plot stuff is happening, your character's life can still have a role, and it should. Big things will happen--whether or not your character has more important things to worry about is up to you, and we invite you to take your plots where you want them to go."
  • With the fantastic level of depth in the lore present in Manifest Anima, an equally incredible amount of creativity and variety is made possible. In addition to simply playing with the existing lore, there is always the option of building upon something or creating something new--we want you to be able to take ownership of aspects of the world. If you want to simply play with what we have that’s wonderful, and you are welcome to, but try to keep in mind that the option to make something new and fresh, is always open! Enriching the world and everyone’s experience in it is what we aim to do, and what we aim for you to be able to do as well.
  • In Manifest Anima there is a strong focus on interaction, consequences, and player choice. It is designed to evolve with its players and while there is a plan, it can deviate wildly depending on how those involved interact with the world and the elements presented--or implied.
  • Active and interactive GM team! We have three people who are genuinely dedicated to this project and want everyone to have a great time. If you’re having trouble, let us know, we’re there to help!
Bloop
ƪllaerion Ⱥvusahré. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ᴛ ʜ ᴇ s ʏ ɴ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ s ɪ s ᴛ
"Well, I'm supposed to have some kind of quote in here, but, uh, what do I even say?"
Theme I Theme II


I L L A E R I O N A V U S A H R É
Il-lay-ree-on Ah-voo-se-ray

Two-hundred-ninety-five. Male. Precursor Human.
[ ⊰⊱ ] Ⱥppearance

DESCRIPTION
[ ⊰⊱ ] io




[ ⊰⊱ ] quipment & elongings


[ ⊰⊱ ] apabilities



!The Tiger and The Rose!
Collab between @ProPro and @yoshua171


Already itching to give these fools the fight of their lives, Lilliana watched the contest, her body tense, though her touch remained gentle as she absently stroke Bonesword’s sleeping skull. Despite Kite’s numerous injuries, she never winced or looked away. She’d seen some grisly injuries and wasn’t going to look away and shame herself or her nakama. However, watching each injury occur pained her in a way that few might understand. As things concluded, she found that, once her son had sat up, she was already on her feet. She left her medical and tinkering bags with Bonesword, but something was odd. Her tinker bag was totally empty.

Hachirou took Kite from the field and carried him back. Lilli absently injected one of her syringes into him before striding past and down to meet the towering man. Despite her small frame there was something about her that made it hard to laugh or jeer at her for challenging him. “Set up the ball, I’m restless and I don’t like you,” her body was tense, but not in the way that someone who hadn’t been moving would be. Her strides were almost unnaturally graceful, something that usually wasn’t terribly apparent.

She could feel B-MO pumping through her blood, through her body, strengthening her more than normal, mostly her muscles and blood vessels. Her bones were already far more durable than they ought to have been...not that the rest of her wasn’t uncannily durable to begin with.

Stepping to the center of the drawn up field, across from Pike, she met his eyes, and while she looked up at him...he couldn’t look down on her. It would be like trying to look down on a queen. You could try, but it was pointless. “Well, how about we skip the coin toss and you start,” she smiled prettily, but there was an icy edge to her words. “Shall I serve?”

Unseen in her shoes and beneath her flowing dress, metal encased her feet and shins.

Pike met Lilliana’s eyes by returning her own steely, determined glare. When he spoke, his tone remained even. ”I underestimated your mate because he was injured. His willpower and strength, despite his situation, surprised me. You are fully healthy, and despite your pixie stature, I will not allow myself to make the same mistake.” The large man took the cigar, which had sat inside his mouth the entire previous match, and tossed it aside.

”Go ahead and serve, if that’s what you’d like.” He sauntered over to take position, something in his body language had changed. He was less relaxed, more tense.

Stepping to the ball, Lilliana briefly stretched to limber up, before she tapped the ball with her toe, then each side with one foot. She then took a step back, met Pike’s eyes, then kicked the ball at him hard. The strength behind it wasn’t however anywhere comparable to his prior kicks, nor was it the full extent of her own. Nonetheless the ball flew at him, knee level.

The large man wasted no time in his response, meeting the ball with his knee directly to completely stop its forward motion, knocking it up in the air where it spun for a moment of hover. ”Pathetic. I know that you have to be capable of more!Striped Drill Kick!” It was only the first kick of the game and Pike was already pulling out his bigger moves from the last match. Into the air he went, perpendicular to the iron cannonball. Spinning around, his leg shot out and struck the ball with his twirling tip-toes which sent the ball shooting straight back at Lilliana at tremendous force and speed, with added piercing spin. What’s more, it came at her even harder than the one he sent at Kite!

Lilli gave him nothing, no response, no reaction, and certainly no ground. The ball struck forwards, she bent her knees, lept forwards and up, the increased the metal in one arm, throwing it back to offset her balance. The sole and bottom of her foot hardened, as did her shoe as she began to fall. The ‘ball’ struck that out stretched foot and her weight, actually greater than it, began to drive it down even as it pushed her knee up. Her body took the shock, not easily, but not even half as badly as Kite’s had. When she felt the last of its momentum about to stop, she pushed back from the ball, flipped, landing on the ground and then erupted forwards in a dash. The side of her foot came in contact with the ball, pushing it to her other foot.

She caught the ball with the edge of that foot, then turned it, letting the ball of cast iron slip to the top of that same foot, before she flicked it up with strength that belied her small frame. The cannonball flew up, level with her head. Her skull hardened, reinforced beneath flesh and vein with biometal. It gained a silver glint, and then she headbutted the ball. It slammed forwards with tremendous force and she didn’t even seem dazed.

She increased her speed, catching up with the ball. It wasn’t aimed at Pike, but at the ground roughly eight feet in front of him. Before it hit the ground, she would already be near him.

Pike grit his teeth in annoyance. Not so much with Lilliana’s ability to cope well with one of his stronger kick shots, but at how utterly detached she was making herself. ”What’s the matter, girl? Aren’t ya mad at how I crushed your friend before? Ground Pounce!” Chasing after Lilli, and the ball, was hardly Pike’s intention at the time. Instead he fell back on one of the more ludicrous, and terrifying, maneuvers in his arsenal. Once again his foot stabbed into the floor like a spear and cracks spread all around. Straining his muscles with a mighty heave, the floor tilted up a full ninety degrees, and then tilted backward! His strategy for winning the game at this point seemed to be on point with crushing the scientist completely and utterly!

Lilli ground her teeth, jaw tight and then Pike made his move. She kept running, though now with clawed feet, even as the floor became a hill and then neared a sheer cliff wall, but as it tilted closer to 90 degrees, she acted. She kicked the ball up, metallic claws spreading from her hands allowing her to latch into the wall the floor had become, catching the cannonball on a knee before swinging herself and kicking it hard with metal guarded toes. It flew up with tremendous speed, but before it got too far, Lilliana slammed her other claw into the wall and launched herself up and past it before it passed the 90 degree threshold. Moving faster than the cannonball, she still managed to spin so her feet struck--no longer clawed--and cratered the ceiling.

While Lilliana had managed to avoid getting crushed by the overturned floor, the rest of her plan did not go as intended, for Pike was quick to act while hidden behind the wall; he was not one to remain idle in this match. The large man vaulted up over the upturned wall, right past Lilliana, weaving between her strands of metal. He took possession of the ball with a hard headbutt, sending the orb flying down the court. Pike was just behind, his powerful legs giving him more speed than one would expect for such an imposing body build.

The cannonball hit the net behind Lilli, just as Pike landed safely upon the ground in a crouched position, the overturned flooring crashing with a mighty rumble mere inches behind his heels. “GOOOOOOOOOOOAL!” cried out the first of the referees.

“First score of the match goes to Pike!” declared the second, blowing his whistle.

Pike spun round to face his opponent with a cold glare. ”I know who you are,” he started, reaching into his jacket and unrolling a wanted poster. Lilli’s wanted poster. ”Rumors say you’ve got some sort of metal devil fruit. I don’t know how accurate that is, but the results don’t lie. You’ll need to work harder’n that to catch this predator off guard. My serve.”

Dropping down from the ceiling, Lilli hit the ground with a sharp crack, the ground buckling slightly from the weight of her form. She met his gaze and tilted her head, a brow raising as a faint smile touched her lips. “Huh, well, I never expected to have a reputation,” she mused, finding the idea rather funny.

Shrugging, she took up a spot across from Pike again, “Then I’ll just have to take off the training wheels,” she said, hopping in place a moment. B-MO’s biometal flooded through her body, reinforcing everything. He thought it was a devil fruit, which was silly, but he didn’t know better.

Pike licked the inside of his cheek, readying himself for a massive kick. He took stance as he gauged his opponent’s own stance, reading Lilliana’s movements. Something was off about her, he could tell. She was certainly heavier than she ought to be, telling him that she likely was stronger than she looked, and more resilient. But that also meant that most of the time, speed was sacrificed. He grinned. ”Perfectly normal kick… TEN THOUSAND PERCENT POWER!”

True to his declaration, the mighty man launched the ball with a completely normal stance, using a completely normal kick off technique, with but only one caveat. The ball had been launched at stupefying velocity, putting even Launcher’s devil fruit speed to shame! Rather than kicking it directly at his opponent to debilitate her with a strike as he had done so for nearly every previous kick, this one was shot straight for the middle of her legs. The intent? To shoot it right past her and score a goal of his own on the kick off.

She watched as he considered her, and as he started moving, and speaking, she pushed one foot back, bracing herself against the ground. She bent her other knee as well and then the kick came her way. Her eyes widened slightly, but rather than move to catch it with her feet, Lilli lifted one foot and slammed it down on the ground. The floor cracked and tipped up before the ball could pass between her legs. Instead the ball hit the ground and due to its momentum and the angle, flew up into the air.

It wasn’t so much that there was other way for her to block or redirect the ball, just that this required the least effort. On a level Pike’s theory was right, she was heavier than her frame implied, but she was stronger too. She’d been like this almost her entire life...her body had long since compensated for the weight or every movement would be a struggle.

This time, rather than act immediately she kept her eyes on Pike, the ball hitting the zenith of its rise into the air, before it began to fall again.

To his credit, Pike obeyed the rules of football. Though he was ready to go the second Lilliana took control of the ball, he did not move from his kickoff position as it hung in the air. After all, it only went up from environmental factors, meaning technically his opponent hadn’t controlled it yet. To rush in and intercept at this point would still be an illegal maneuver…

Raising an eyebrow, Lilli let the ball hit the ground in front of her, rather than leave the ground to retrieve it. Then she ran forwards with the ball, dribbling it between her feet as she did so, advancing swiftly towards Pike, her every sense focused. What was she planning?

Thus signalled Pike to begin his interception. Rather than going straight in for the assault, the devious and powerful man took advantage of the state the floor had been put in. Cracks and destruction littered the flooring everywhere. With one solid kick, not only did Pike dash straight for Lilliana, but he knocked up large amounts of stone debris, flying straight for the young woman just ahead of him.

He acted, and she took it all in and responded in kind, bleeding metal from her pores, to reinforce her skin as she had the rest of her body. The debris began to strike her and she half lidded her eyes, retaining some of her sight, while protecting them all at once. She kept her other senses sharp.

The debris pelted Lilliana hard, but her endurance was greater. The smaller bits could be ignored entirely, though the larger ones would still leave some bruises despite her preparations. Two particularly sharp ones cut into her skin, causing some minor bleeding. Through it all, Pike took advantage of the cover provided from his attack like a smokescreen, sliding along the floor right by his opponent in an attempt to swipe the ball right out from under her.

Gritting her teeth at the pain, she almost missed the sound of debris and hard leather against the ruined floor. Eyes still closed, she grinned, and kicked the ball up and to the side, away from Pike. She followed it, ready to receive her own short pass before continuing forwards.

Managing to evade him, she caught the ball with her foot, kicked it forwards as she ran and then brought her leg back for a powerful kick, nailing the cannonball hard enough to send it hurtling straight at the undefended goal.

And into the goal it went! Pike, too caught up in his slide, was unable to muster a defense. Soon as the net arched back catching the iron ball, a loud whistle rang out the hall with another long declaration of “Gooooooooooooal!” The score was now tied at 1-1, and Pike gave his opponent a nasty glare. Silently, the first mate took his position, ready for Lilliana’s kickoff.

She cast him a grin before taking up her place. Once more she tapped the cannonball with her foot, once on each side, and then the side facing her. Taking a deep breath she met his eyes and then glanced down at the ball. Preparing herself she stepped away from it and then as she kicked, let a small amount of biometal attach itself to the cannonball. As it flew at Pike, faster than the first serve, an exceptionally thin strand of metal extended between it and her foot.

She waited and watched closely, widening her stance.

Soon as the iron ball flew away from Lilliana, Pike rushed toward it, powered by his mighty legs. In less than a second he had intercepted the ball’s course, and began dribbling down the field, keeping his eyes on his opponent as he did so. The astute man knew she was up to something, but not what.

As his foot touched the ball, she moved, heading in his direction as he began dribbling the ball across the ‘field’. She focused intently on his every move, feeding a small amount of biometal through the thread, making it denser, but still virtually invisible.

As the two closed into one another, Pike took the opportunity to get an advantage. Hooking the ball with his foot, he tossed it up and over the approaching Lilli, then made a mad dash to get past her himself. It was clear that in a contest of speed, Pike was the obvious winner, but she didn’t intend to win with speed, did she?

Lilliana certainly didn’t. With the ball flying over her head and Pike past her, she smirked and moved her foot, making the ‘thread’ go rigid as she accelerated, running away from Pike and towards the goal. The ball, before it even landed behind her, would change course, being pulled through the air as she reeled in the string.

She’d then spin on one foot and initiate a kick like that, catching the ball with her foot and ankle before spinning further and kicking it right at the undefended goal.

Ah, so that was the wench’s game plan. Without missing a beat, Pike spun round to keep his eyes on the ball as it changed direction. He kicked another bit of rubble, not at his opponent this time, but at the cannonball as she flung it toward his goal. The rock struck metal, knocking the ball off course. Rather than striking the center of the goal as planned, it bounced harmlessly off of the guard rail and landed on the floor. Though it failed to score Lilli a point, the ball was still very much in play… But Pike was now already halfway to retrieving it.

Eyes widening somewhat, Lilli grounded herself, wincing slightly as she missed. ’Frustrating,’ she thought. None of the kids back home had ever played like this, it was strange...and less fun. Granted, this was far more engaging, if only because Pike was actually a challenge.

Despite herself, she smiled a bit and slammed her metal toe into the ground. It pierced like a blade, and then biometal spread from her foot into the ground. Swiftly she pulled her foot up and flung what appeared to be one huge boulder of stone directly at Pike. Briefly it would obscure his sight of her.

Regaining her balance she kicked some rubble into the air and infused it with biometal, before kicking it even harder at the boulder. Right before it got within striking distance of Pike the huge rock would shatter into a field of debris.

She’d dash forth, lighter than she had been before, a symptom of having gotten rid of some of her biometal. She was faster now.

Pike’s ears twitched, detecting the danger coming from behind. Rather than dodging to the side or facing it head on, the larger man opted for an approach that seemed unusual for his demeanor: he jumped straight up, arms and legs extended outward. Grin spreading across his face turned to bizarre confusion as more rubble followed just beneath him, which turned to scowl as Lilliana moved past him in her new speedier form. ”No. I’m still faster, he growled as he landed, pouncing toward her on all fours like a tiger on the attack.

Hearing him approach by the nearness of his voice and the sound of his landing, Lilli was just a few feet from the ball when she kicked the ground, scooping stone from the floor and sending it hard at an angle. The stone struck the cannonball with incredible velocity and some of that transferred, hitting the cannonball against the metal guard hard enough for it to bounce back in her direction. She spun on her heel, using a foot like shovel to the ground to scrap more debris from the floor and fling it directly into Pike’s face as she reinforced her back with a layer of metal.

The cannonball hit her, its momentum carrying it up her back and over her shoulder. She hit it down with her reinforced collarbone and then kicked it up even as she ran, jumped and then pushed off of a piece of debris from the shattered boulder she’d made only moments before.

The former captain took Lilliana’s attack in stride, facing it head on and with great fury. The man slammed his head into the debris coming toward his face, headbutting the majority of it aside like a giant swatting a fly. All but one piece, that is, which he had caught in his mouth. That piece was spat out to the side, showing his anger at the situation: though it had been solid rock, the man had left teeth marks. Such was his ire at being behind in the scoring.

While he chewed on stone, Lilliana lunged flipped midair and kicked the cannonball as hard as she could in a downwards strike. As planned (lol), it flew diagonally downwards and into the goal like a falling star.

Righting herself, she landed behind Pike, her back to him.

She brushed off a shoulder then glanced back at the man. “You should really watch your temper,” she commented, “...it’s unseemly.” She turned her back on him and walked back to center field.

The iris of his eyes suddenly widened vertically, pointed off like a cat’s, expressing a form of rage he could never have done before. Actual steam blew out from his nose, punctuated by the whistle blowing of the referees. “GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL! The score is now 2-1, advantage: Lilliana! The Red Rum now serves!”

Pike shook his head, pulling out a cigar, and lighting it. He took two deep drags, then breathed out the smoke to make the shape of a rabbit, followed by the shape of a pouncing tiger. The tiger smoke enveloped the rabbit, and both dissipated into the air. ”You forgot this,” he commented, his voice now even. Pike kicked up the cannonball, then kicked it to Lilli in mid-air.

“Could Pike actually lose?” murmured a Buccaneer.

“No way! He’s unstoppable!” another answered.

“Yeah, but we thought that Dr. Maul’s alter ego, Mr. Sledge, was unstoppable, and he lost.”

“He didn’t lose, he tied, and besides that the capta-Er, I mean, the first mate is still on a whole other level! He’s his own league! The captain wouldn’t last a second against him in football!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. He’s got to be making this last longer for dramatic effect!”

Pike glared up at the peanut gallery, his stare alone silencing the hushed voices. Once the cigar had been completely smoked away, he took his place in center field, ready to intercept the kickoff.

Rather than catch the strike with another kick, or get in its way, she let the cannonball hit the ground, where she then stopped it with a foot. “Why thank you,” she said, flashing him a smile. She dipped into a slight curtsy, perhaps mockingly, or perhaps to be polite. After all, he technically outranked her--though he was no a different crew.

Taking to her kick off ritual, she tapped the cannonball once on each side and then on the side facing her. Then she regarded him, tilted her head, took a step back and then kicked the ball so it would angle far to his left side. The side with his injured knee. He’d most likely have to run to get at the ball.

Like a rocket, Pike was off heading for the ball just as he had done so many times before. In two seconds he intercepted it, then began dribbling down the way, heading straight for Lilliana. It seemed that he had intended to bowl right over her on his way to the goal, but something was different this time. As soon as he took off, did he wince?

Naturally, Lilliana had no intention to be run down. She dug her heels in and pressed biometal through the heels of her feet and into the ground, expanding them outwards like roots. Two seconds and then she wrenched upwards sending huge amounts of debris, large and small, into the air. The biometal retracted and she lunged forwards at Pike, ready to intercept.

Pike grinned. ”Perfect.” With his stronger leg, Pike kicked the ball up into the cloud of debris. It struck the first piece, then changed course to another piece, and another and another, each one sending the heavy iron ball on a separate trajectory. Meanwhile, Pike plowed through the debris with his body, tanking rock shrapnel small and large with his arms, until he was right up on Lilliana, the two colliding in the air, lunge met by lunge.

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!” cried out a referee, the second blowing his whistle. While Pike had deliberately taken them both down to the ground, the ball was sent on a complicated ricochet, straight into the goal. “The score is now tied, 2-2! Pike kicks off, possession goes to Lilliana!”

The large man glowered down at the smaller woman as he stood up tall. ”You’ve been better than I anticipated, but it’s time to end this. I have many more of your crew to crush. Filthy pirates.” With that, he took up position, ready to kick the ball out.

Taking her place across from him, Lilliana brushed herself off and locked her gaze with his, determined to prove him wrong. She took one deep breath, in and out, and then nodded her head. She was ready to end this.

Pike stood silent for a moment, watching, waiting, observing. He tested the ball a few more times kicking it with the side of his foot like a hacky sack. The man had so clearly been accustomed to playing in this manner, it was a wonder that he hadn’t broken his body yet. Lord knows Lilliana would be hurting after this whole ordeal.

”I wanted to save this for my final match, preferably against your captain, but you’ve gone and pissed me off more than enough. I’ll frighten away the rest of your crew by the sheer radiance of my ultimate serve!” As he spoke, it was not only Pike’s words that bolstered and rose up, but his muscles as well. The already mighty man grew at least another two feet in height, and another three in width. Veins inflated, looking ready to burst out violently like little snake bombs. ”Take this! Tiger Strike Ultimate! Dragooooon’s…. DEEEEEEATH!”

As the cannonball fell downward, he struck it hard with his right knee, sending it high up in the air. He took his own jump up, spinning in the air like a drill. Faster and faster and faster he spun, gaining more and more torque until the man could only be described as a colorful mid air blur. Then he thrust out both arms, palms exposed, fingers widened like claws. This created air currents like pathways, guiding the cannonball in time with his movements, sending it round and round and round until, finally… He kicked it.

Pike fell to the ground, hard, buckling under his bad knee. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the cannonball flying straight for Lilliana. It shot faster than Launcher had ever sent it flying with her devil fruit. The air crackled around it as the friction set the very oxygen around it on fire! This was do or die. Dodge, and it would likely destroy most of the arena. Stand her ground, and she’d have to deal with enough force to kill hundreds of men in one strike. Less than a hundredth of a second to react.

As he began his serve, Lilliana sensed a change in him. Extracting the only Syringe(r) she’d left on her person, Lilli stabbed her arm, wincing. Taking deep breaths, B-M.O flowed through her body faster and faster--her heart’s BPM skyrocketing. She shifted into a stance, as if about to lunge to the side. Then he struck.

She held her breath, ceasing what had been what sounded like hyperventilation. She lunged to the side, or appeared to, turning the momentum and her own weight--focused perfectly to fling her sideways--into a spinkick on one foot. Mid-kick she dropped down, to her knee. The weight of the biometal flung itself into the tip of her foot, accelerating the spin in less than 1/4th a second. On the second spin the cannonball serve met her shin, just as the biometal had distributed itself properly.

Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding as her entire body strained. She felt highly reinforced muscles beginning to tear, she felt the dense biometal infused bones straining. Then the pressure began to reverse, everything almost in slow motion as she turned the momentum of the serve into a powerful shot to Pike’s goal. As the cannonball flew Lilliana collapsed to her hands and knees. Her entire right leg was shifting between numb and useless...and paralyzed by waves of pain. She felt light headed, but still she hung onto consciousness, nails clawing into the floor and leaving marks.

The ball tore through the air, a shockwave pulsing out from it. The air burned around it as it hurtled at Pike. It was moving so fast that if you blinked you’d miss it. As it passed over his shoulder, half an inch from its neck, it’d leave behind an intense heat and a destructive wake of force. In the next moment it struck Pike’s goal, flying into the net and then through it, into the wall behind.

The wall, like the net, couldn’t stop it either, and blasted outwards as the cannon drilled a hole through it to fly out over the bay.

Not having the strength to move much, Lilli barely managed to hold one fist above her head in a gesture of victory. She met Pike eyes, fire, determination and pain in her own, and managed a pained smile. “That was for Kite,” she then spat blood onto the ground. Her breathing had slowed, but each inhale was sharp and strained.

Blood trickled down from Pike’s ear, the sudden change in air pressure, combined with the heat, having caused his ear to pop in a rather violent way. Still, despite the pain, he said nothing. Not so much as a grunt of discomfort. The pirates in the stands looked on in total awe, completely taken aback by the events that had unfolded before them. Even the referees had forgotten to blow their whistles and declare the victory point.

”So that’s tha power’o the ‘Iron Rose’ Lilli,” Bill muttered under his breath. A few moments past and he looked around at his crew still gawking. ”Well, what’re ya waitin’ fer? Call it, refs!”

“Oh, uh… Yeah, yeah. Uh… Final goal to Lilliana, and match!” The smaller of the referees had managed to follow captain’s orders, but the larger of the duo still couldn’t quite grasp what he had seen.

”... Like hell it’s over!” Pike half-growled half-roared. He stood up, ready to fight, a menacing aura bleeding out from his eyes. He had lost, but he was still in plenty good condition to go toe to toe if the situation fell that way.

”Ya declared a 3 goal game an’ lost! Git back t’yer seat like a man, an’ admit defeat wit’honor!” Bullet Bill rose to challenge Pike’s own disobedience, but the first mate did not back down.

”You are your fuckin’ sports rules. Taking over this base, taking MY men, turning MY marines into pirate trash! You aren’t even a person, you’re a weapon! You’re a god damn tool! He pointed menacingly up at the stands, ignoring the blood that continued to trickle out his ear. The pirates gasped in horror, as though these words were sheer blasphemy. All eyes locked onto Bill, who remained calm, arms crossed. But it wasn’t a usual calm. It was an unnerving calm, the sort of calm you feel moments before something terrible was about to happen.

”I’m taking back my post as captain of this marine base. Anybody that refuses to follow isn’t worthy of livin’ life!” With a mighty leap, Pike pounced in an arc, straight toward Bill, flying high through the air. Runch and the rest of his still able crew scrambled into a fighting position to intercept, but it was proven to be unnecessary.

”Spinning Claw Kick!” Pike extended a single leg and began spinning at tremendous speeds. Yet Bill only smiled.

”Lance Stance.” Before everyone’s eyes the captain of the Buccaneers transformed in a most unusual and bizarre manner. His skin turned to a dark pewter in an instant, his legs became wheels, and his large rotund body elongated into a tube, while all human features utterly vanished. He had become a cannon. A cannon with human eyes, and his distinctive mustache positioned just beneath the end of his cannon-mouth.

His positioning was such that Pike could do nothing but fall straight into the open waiting maw of the cannon leg first. But of course such a large man could not fit inside completely: his leg plugged into the hole, while his groin slammed hard into the edge. Pike had not complained of injury thus far, and with this moment he was no longer able to. His mouth hung open, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his entire body limp and paralyzed in the pain that dominated his family jewels.

”Thirty-two Pound Assault!” BOOM! The cannon that was Bullet Bill fired off, blasting Pike straight into the side wall, then right through it, and finally into one of the towers along the outer walls of the fortress. If he flew back any further, nobody would have been able to see it thanks to the fortress blocking the view.
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