Avatar of yoshua171

Status

Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current Just...drifting along.
5 yrs ago
The Truest and Most Ultimate Showdown has beguneth. Goofykins V.S. SpongeByrne!
1 like
5 yrs ago
Does anyone know where I can figure out how to unfabricate memories? Asking for a friend.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
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/…
8 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

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Iouchiryo, Koutaku VS. Muraskino, Kasumi
Judge: @Tuujaimaa
.
Elande Slums


Size: Large tower(s) and surrounding area.
Description: An ancient city of slums that has been build and rebuilt over centuries. The houses stacked together so high that you can barely see the sky. Made of scrap metal, half rotten wood, and poor quality mortar and bricks this arena is actually quite destructible. However much is destroyed will simply be "repaired" in time by the countless slum dwellers. Many wires connect the multileveled buildings like zip lines, but it is anyone's guess as to if they will hold.

Few slum dwellers are in the arena scattered throughout the towers and area. They are a race of human like bipeds with little ability to speak. It is unlikely they will interfere in the fight, but might attack feebly if confronted.
Mountain Monastery

Size: Path is 15ft wide and quite tall, winding upwards. Court Yard 200ft long, 75ft wide.
Player Capacity: 2.
Description: This Monastery in the mountains is home to a peaceful order of religious monks. It is beautifully kept with sand gardens and banzai trees. There is a small 25x25 foot raised platform in the center of the court yard that is often used for meditation. The constant drone of chanting often fills the narrow winding mountain paths that lead to this secluded monastery. In the winter the paths are full of snow, making travel all but impossible. It is in the spring that the true beauty of this divine place becomes apparent and life blooms all around it.

@Dynamo Frokane
Noir Iridian
Chatterbox
Theme


Based on call outs in comms, the glimpses he periodically got of Behemoth, and the state of the city, things were not going particularly well for them. He tried to focus on his purpose--and on organizing thralls--honing in on the trapped, injured, and salvageable in the wreckage, as well as calming people and enhancing the teamwork of his decidedly temporary compatriots. He kept a smile off of his face, despite feeling a certain warmth buried under the cold reality and barely controlled terror that Behemoth’s presence in Denver caused. Of course, the disgust and revulsion he felt when they came across charred corpses or people so injured that they were barely alive--more gore than person. Indeed, he had failed to hold himself together several times now when faced with the terrible carnage of the Endbringer.

Still, he kept on, swallowing down his bile every additional time he almost lost whatever little was left in his stomach. He had a job to do...and his own goals to pursue. He could hardly do that if the city and its inhabitants were totally eviscerated. He didn’t want to have to set himself up elsewhere, especially since it might mean losing his employer...and his many fans.

"In the collapsed building just ahead, we’ve got quite a few survivors," he pointed out to his group, gesturing in the direction to be more specific. He began heading in that direction, organizing those who would listen to him and--similarly--using the volume of his voice to latch onto the locations of those within even more. After a few moments of this some of the survivors began calling out, trying to help the capes find them more easily.

All the while, Chatterbox’s mind whirled through plans and processing information as he got it, organizing his moves if the city--and enough of its population--survived this ordeal.

It would be a totally new arena, he realized, and he was honestly looking forwards to the challenge.
Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa


Evading and watching at a distance for a long while after her projection had demanifested, she stayed with Cascade, keeping mobile and never staying in the same place for terribly long. She didn’t want to make herself an easy target, she knew that much. In the meantime, she used her tulpa’s shadow to locate capes--along with her comms--and then spread out its influence, detecting survivors and then pointing them out to groups. It was a maneuver with a dual purpose: Helping people and gathering powers and physical traits for her next attack on the hero killer.

Her face scrunched up at the thought, disgusted that even despite her efforts the Endbringer had felled some of Denver’s greatest defenders. It was just another point against this cruel, evil world they lived in. Shaking her head she refocused, mind more adroit with the added traits from Cascade’s power. After roughly fifteen or so minutes she decided it was time.

The silver silhouette drew itself together, consolidating its ethereal form and rising above the skyline of Denver. Evelyn bit her lip, sorting through powers and physical traits, mixing and matching as she felt was best until suddenly...she hit a block. She tilted her head and opened her eyes.

"Huh?"

She tried again...to no avail, her power refusing to add or remix further. She tried expanding the size of the projection. Nothing.

"What’s happening?" She uttered in what would become a quiet horror. Cascade raised an eyebrow, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"What’s wrong?"

Evelyn kept trying...and failing, to add complexity to her projection, but could not, "I...I don’t..." she clutched at the edges of her clothes, mouth working, but no further sound coming out. She swallowed hard, a sinking feeling swiftly becoming an aching emptiness in her chest.

"Are you alright?" Cascade said, a worried tone entering her voice. Evelyn shook her head, took a deep breath and tried to calm down, repeating the exercise for a long thirty seconds before her heartbeat finally began to slow.

"My power’s not working right," she managed, her voice small and reedy. She grit her teeth and steeled her nerves. This...this wasn’t the time, the world needed her. She cast her eyes to Behemoth and the heroes desperately trying to slow the endbringer down.

They needed her.

Evelyn stopped rearranging the powers she’d planned to. It seemed she had more...limitations now. She wasn’t sure of the shape of them, or the reason they were so suddenly present, but she had an inkling and she also had more pressing concerns.

"It doesn’t matter." She said, determination leaking back into her voice and body language.

She’d tried destroying Behemoth and that hadn’t worked. Now she didn’t have that option it seemed. Instead, she’d have to slow him down. This in mind she settled on her projection’s powerset.

Threefold altered state: Single phase temporal matter lock~~Permanent~~Form modulation. Limit, mass rearrangement. Twofold: High precision expanded phase-integration. Limit, personal integration, range. Twofold: Integration-initiated transcendent escalation. Focus, radius amplification. Physical phase-state modulation. Focus, repair.

Then she began work on the silhouette and the physical traits of the form. The former expanded out into a huge grid-like network so closely woven that one would not have been able to tell that it was even individual ‘strands’. From there she assigned its traits, her focus intense, eyes closed.

Air+energy(weightless). Metal(solid).

That finished she took a breath and manifested the projection. The silver light disappeared, replaced by...nothing. The projection moved, its presence only apparent by how dust and debris swirled or was cleaved as it came into contact with the thing.

She decided that she’d call this manifestation the Wraith.

Its name given, the projection flew into motion, disturbing air and particulate with its passing, but otherwise ignoring all obstacles on its path towards Behemoth.

Soon she would see how the dynakinetic fared against the Wraith’s ethereal trickery.
Aloft was held his skyscraper blade, which truly scraped the sky, fpor he stood there, wiothin the realm of skyeia,below the heavens above,aloft the heaven’s hell below. Then it all went a shuddef and from thos eshudders the land warrped and twisted and warred with itself as reality attempted and failed to latch onto a single location.

Goofykins began a skypound dance,. Thrusting his hips with mighty motions, overexaggerated to a degree most untoward, his string-bean ears flopping back and forth outb of sync with his herrendousy hips.

“Hyuck Hyeuck, Hyeck, Hyonder, my my may Mr. Byrne Down The Kids, I tyink you may have miscylcyullated,” the Ineffebable Prisoneror hyucked most spendiforously. “Hyu must think me getted if this is your first thyout to unwield me and mine!” Then, Goofykins began to laugh, and his laugh laughed and his laughed, laugh, laugh, loaf, lough, luffed, louffed, lorfen laugh laughing laugh’dededdigginsly AND FROM THAT HORRIBLE SOUND THE WORLD SHUDDERED IN CORRUSCATING PATTERNS of unshoadden nature. A face resolved itslef in the bakcscape of their battleground and briefly the meow most è̷͠l͏͏̢͘͘d̶̵͜r͘͞i̵̶͝҉͠ţ̶͡c̴̢͞h̷͟҉͟ rang out through the minds of everything present, and with the sound the SOUND became orange, and with that ORANGE the woruld around them collapsed into orange and black stripes and with those stripes…

You know what, fuck that.



Goofykins swung the skyscraper blade and it cleaved through space itself leaving a deep riftstrain more destructive than even the thirty-first deletion. Time wobbled and wibbled and collapsed and then stabilized, but the space never healed


DETROIT - Long ago.

It was a perfectly average day in Detroit, there was smog and crime and alas the city still existed as a member of the United States of AMURICA. It was a bright beautiful smog-clouded day. A man was taking his daughter, because it was TAKE YOUR KID TO WORK DAY, truly it was all around a better time.

Then.

Then it happened.

A black hole opened in the sky and it tore open, a huge gray blade slicing the very plain in twain, from sky to deep beneath the ground. Buildings were parted and the force of the slash destroyed much of Detroit, rendering it into ruins that could not be healed or unrendered. From the Massive Riftstrain monstrosities were belched, but the gray blade was extracted and disappeared. Usually, a Riftstrain would simply close, but this one was different...instead of merely closing it collapsed and warped itself into needles and threads that wove themselves into the very fabric of the once great industrial city.

It would only be a year later that the City became a City State.

Suddenly all glimmers of uneasying joy fell from the face og Goofykins. The great riftstrain continued to spread, rending not just where they were in moments, but destroying the illusion and SIMILITUDILARLY destroying portions of actual real life locations that the imagery had been evoking.

HyueckHyeuckHyeuck he chortled in monotone. “Hyu myscalcyulated,” hye said stepping forwards. Each footfall made the sky shudder and the illusions continue to tear asunder. He then began hopping down invisible steps in the sky before his legs ran on air, as if slipping, and he began to slide clumsily downwards--his expression flat and lifeless the whole while, making the the actions of his body totally de-synchronized from his expression. He began to accelerate at a startling rate--not dissimilar to his earlier movements(itud[itisia])--and eventually he regained his sliding balance, leaning back on the invisible slide, sparks being generated at his feet as he moved his skyscraper blade infront of him and cradled it like so many CHILD.

“HYU WHYLE REGRET YOUR UTTERANCE CUR. Fyrst I while pluck from you the SYUIT of Big, THEN I will defame you before you and your acolytes! First one lung, then an eye!”

Far away a deep chant could be heard, emanating at a distance from the Forsaken Lands of India and all DisneyLandia.

“AFTER THE EYE COMES THE LEFT THIGH. ONCE HE’S GONE THAT LOW, YOU KNOW HE’LL SOON GO HIGH. NO ESCAPE. NO QUARTER. LIKE US YOU WILL SOON BE SUPPRESED. OPPRESSED. BECOME THE OPPRESSED. SERVE HIS WILL. SERVE

SERVE

SERVE

SERVE

SERVESERVESERVESERVESERVESERVEserveserveserve”


On the horizon thousands of silhouettes became apparent and their size grew at a rate most unsyyttling.


The DISNEY ARMADA was on the march, and there was no styoppyng them now.

His forces commanded and commandeered--the conquerening that he’d been playing for decades finally in motion--Goofykins, formerly Goofy(kins), jumped from the slide and began hurtling down through the air at cartoonish velocity (speed lines exuding out from his body as he fell), raising his skyscraper sword above his head, readying a mighty blow to deal to the unkidded Byrne and his channeld BIG SUIT.

Elsewhere, a duck sneezed.

© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet