ZombiesAnHyenas

Strawberry Romantic

@RBYDark
Alright! Edits are finished!

Strawberry Romantic

Ooooohhhhh… Oops. I’m sorry! Lemme edit that shenanigan!

Strawberry Romantic

Henlo henlo!!!

Strawberry Romantic

Oop— I think it says a lot about my lack of history knowledge that… A lot of that is lost on me ;-;

First Tomtom post up! Sorry for being such a super late joiner.

Strawberry Romantic

“You’re just going to, what, wait over here…? Really, [fire-child]? You would avoid the… Ah… Group of them?” Asked a tall woman, draped in ancient looking armor. It reminded the more modern-dressed, punk-styled girl of a resistance fighter. From ancient Egypt!

“Yes. Yes I would! They’re fuh— I mean— Look I don’t know WHATS happening down there and I do NOT want in. Not yet. Not right now, okay?” Replied Tomoyo.

The spirit sighed, standing next to Tomoyo in silence for a long, long moment… Before smirking.
They were standing under the drizzle some non-insignificant distance away. Apparently, her charge enjoyed the feeling of water on her skin.
Rain was… Not necessarily new, but nice and interesting nonetheless.

She stepped forward, then, looking directly in ‘TomTom’s eyes as she spoke again. “I am Usai. We have known eachother very, very briefly… But I believe we need more than eachother to survive.”

And to that, Tomoyo panicked, as so named ‘Usai’ vanished from sight. She shuffled in place, gasping at the sight. “Hey! What the crap?!” She hissed, desperately looking about.
She was not prepared for Usai to reappear bedside the Viking boy and his companion. Unseen by them, not to Tomoyo’s knowledge.

She was further unprepared when ‘Usai’ simply smiled. Usai clapped, before ‘speaking’ calmly and yet somehow with a fire that was eager to leap out. Tomoyo couldn’t hear what Usai said, but her face was rapidly burning up.
This was embarrassing!

Usai turned, glancing directly at Tomoyo. “ I apologize for, ah, interrupting. My charge is… Very shy.” She whispered, to absolutely no one in particular.

Titan's Fall: The Abyssal Paradox

It was from eighteen inches deep in the spine of one of … Er… Rat-One’s???? Pursuers that J-3 watched the proceedings of the two… Ratmen. Or one, now, as the other Rat died.

Well… That was catharsis by proxy? Right? Maybe?

No, no not at all. J-3 didn’t really want Rat to die, per se.

Focus. Focus; and move! J-3 twitched into the air again as rat shrieked new directions. They trusted that the blonde would follow without too much question. They also watched as the blades of [MANA-LESS] metal floated around Rat, cleaving limbs and two heads off threshers too close.

J-3 focused elsewhere, rolling in on themselves until their legs skewered through a Thresher that lunged for the running Rat.
Bone and venom both found purchase. The creature— larger in size than J-3 by leagues, twitched once or twice as nerves tried to fire-and-connect.
The spine, however, was forcibly damaged. Four points of hardened bone had snapped through cartilage, muscle, and sinew. Nerves no longer connected by any means fired endlessly, and yet could no longer touch what was necessary.

The Polymorph leapt again, [WEAVING] invisibly as a [WATER-SPOUT] formed by the tip of their tail.
A sweeping beam of extraordinarily compressed water lanced forth. Limbs were neatly severed, or horrifically mangled, as the brine ruined flesh and stone and bone equally.

They looked up to check on their blonde companion. They flashed towards Rat in the same moment, concern(????!!) bubbling in their monstrous chest.

Titan's Fall: The Abyssal Paradox

J-3 lunged into motion. Explosive energy abruptly coursing through every muscle. A blade had landed at their feet, and was more than enough to snap them into ferocious movement.

They leapt to the side, dodging the barreling shape of the first mole-beast. They flicked their attention, watching as a second, more like a centipede, erupted forth and began to waylay their assoc— Allies.
The first mole beast gave a discordant rumble, as if it had too many throats to growl with.

Maire, the Blonde one, [The-Queen-Of-Blades] shouted. And J-3 began to MOVE.
It returned to the earth, and as J-3 sprinted after [The-Queen-Of-Blades] and [The-Scamperer], so too did the Centipede pursue.

J-3 felt an adrenaline pulse, along with a shuddering gasp that left them breathless. [MANA] seeped it’s last way out; burned off in the form of [HAZE] as they used the last of the meager energy they had left.

They had settled into a stride beside Rat, trying to guide him in a straight path as the earth behind them continually erupted and shifted. The centipede was moving not unlike a massive whale; parts of it were exposed through churning earth.

J-3 looked to [The-Queen-Of-Blades]. They blinked once, peering through eyes that rapidly became sightless… Blinked twice. Heard with ears that swiftly became deaf, the sound of one of the beasts leaping forth through the earth. The second, hissing mutated shrieking-wail…

They felt heat, pressure, the sound of Rat screaming for his life… They felt a maw close around their meat-form.

Silence.

Silence for a long moment.

Then, in the black, as they began to slip into hibernation… [MANA].
And not [MANA] like what came from the plant life that barely counted as sustenance, but like that of a [AWAKENED] origin.

J-3 [Hungered].

Tendrils of ink exploded in all directions, deep in the gullet of the beast. Soft tissue and muscle subsumed in less-than-seconds. A root system of ink spread through the flesh, subsuming and consuming and amalgamating everything as it spread towards the hard wall of a carapace.

Rat screamed anew, scrambling faster as the centipede-like beast surfaced, choking and gagging violently.
It twitched, once, twice, then toppled. Convulsing as if electrocuted.
The first mole-monster kept its pursuit, ignoring the falling corpse. The corpse that continued to twitch for seconds more… Then, as the earth around it began to churn anew with the arrivals of more monsters, the carapace shuddered.
Something under the surface of the chitinous plating moved. Pushed once.

Then, with a spray of pitch ichor, a winged shape exploded into the air.

Maire found herself swiftly joined by what appeared to be a wyvern-like creation. Six leathery wings beat against the air, a vipers head sat on a neck over six feet in length. Muscle and sinew flexed underneath an armor coating of scales and snapping turtle-like shell. A torso that was as broad and thickly muscled as a bull pumped air like a bellows. Four legs were tucked against the torso, ending not in feet, claws, or paws, but in protrusions in the shape of spikes.

A tail trailed behind, thick as the neck, and ending in a wickedly sharp sickle-claw.

J-3 screamed their arrival, and fell upon the beast that harried Rat. They intended to savage it while on the move if they could.

Strawberry Romantic

Tomoyo ‘Tomtom’ Melody-Chiba

Tomoyo is a 15 year old spitfire. Hailing from a family of Egyptian and Japanese blood, she often treats the world like it is out to get her. Personally.

TomTom stands at an easy 5’5”, and weighs a solid 150 pounds. She dresses like a street punk, and wears her emotions on his sleeve. Literally, she has monster-shaped patches that she wears on her school-blazer depending on her mood for the day.

Tomoyo is aggressive, loud, and utterly unashamed of what she feels or thinks or says. Clearly it’s YOUR fault if you can’t stand the heat of her kitchen, she never chooses to be mean on purpose after all. She refuses to abide by bullies, even though she can often come across as one. She’s a contradiction, and will refuse to acknowledge that.

She spends most of her time at school, somewhat ironically, or out on the streets with a small group of ‘delinquent’ friends. They mostly stroll about, hunting down those who actively accost others, showing no fear as they cajole, harass, or physically intervene on whatever they find deplorable.
For better or worse.

Her parents often try to convince her to ‘stand down’ and ‘take it easy’.
But when has that ever worked?
Imagine her surprise when she finds herself suddenly attached to a revolutionary warrior. An adult, and a friend, who for ONCE doesn’t tell her that she’s being too ‘much’. That she’s being too rude, too open, too high energy.

Imagine that.

Usai

Imagine, if you will, that your life was one of strife. Of living every day from the moment you were old enough to hold your mother’s khopesh, to the moment when your lover turns her reed arrows on you. Every day, you fought against a kingdom who saw you as cattle. Who thought of your poor brother as a machine. Who hardly paid mind to his preventable early end.
Every day, you fought to shake the shackles of slavery, to shatter the skull of that horrid pharaoh who saw you and yours and theirs as nothing but property. Well treated, perhaps, property, but property.

Every. Day.
Even when you laughed with your fellows, you burned with defiance.
Even when you laid in bed, ‘safe’, you raged inside.
Even when your uncle, the former soldier that he was, trained you to hold that blade correctly, your flame was only tempered.

Then, you die.

Then, finally, just as you walk the fields to find that gentle peace… You’re attached to a child.
A child who burns with the same fervor for life that you did. Who is lonelier than you ever were. Who is trying so hard, to be true to herself and to others…

Well.
What’s one more chance to taste all that the world owes you, and get the last laugh on your (hopefully) long gone ex, and oppressor. Help a child, fight some more, live a new life, eh?
It doesn't hurt that the girl reminds you of yourself, and you’d really rather not see someone make the same mistakes. Especially in a world where time has marched on to something… Unfamiliar.

Usai appears as a menacing warrior woman from ancient Egypt, hair kept in tight braids and kohl shining with golden light. She wears hardened leather straps as her armor, with otherwise ‘standard’ linen tunic and trousers to protect her further. Above her heart blooms a startlingly red lotus flower. She is often smiling.

[With the standard powers of a Mahou Shoujou, Tomoyo supplements her increased strength and endurance with unyielding will. To put Tomtom down is to hold back the floods of the Nile.
Usai grants her ward the ability to summon weapons of myriad make and age (usually those from Greek, Roman, Egyptian and Japanese history). These weapons appear, made from starlight and constellations.
Additionally, Tomoyo and Usai have learned to shout-chant in unison, bolstering the ‘fighting spirit’ of those around them. Stars float about those who take up the call, shielding them somewhat from harm, and burning with candle-light to hold the dark at bay.]

Strawberry Romantic

Tomoyo ‘Tomtom’ Melody-Chiba

Tomoyo is a 15 year old spitfire. Hailing from a family of Egyptian and Japanese blood, she often treats the world like it is out to get her. Personally.

TomTom stands at an easy 5’5”, and weighs a solid 150 pounds. She dresses like a street punk, and wears her emotions on his sleeve. Literally, she has monster-shaped patches that she wears on her school-blazer depending on her mood for the day.

Tomoyo is aggressive, loud, and utterly unashamed of what she feels or thinks or says. Clearly it’s YOUR fault if you can’t stand the heat of her kitchen, she never chooses to be mean on purpose after all. She refuses to abide by bullies, even though she can often come across as one. She’s a contradiction, and will refuse to acknowledge that.

She spends most of her time at school, somewhat ironically, or out on the streets with a small group of ‘delinquent’ friends. They mostly stroll about, hunting down those who actively accost others, showing no fear as they cajole, harass, or physically intervene on whatever they find deplorable.
For better or worse.

Her parents often try to convince her to ‘stand down’ and ‘take it easy’.
But when has that ever worked?
Imagine her surprise when she finds herself suddenly attached to a revolutionary warrior. An adult, and a friend, who for ONCE doesn’t tell her that she’s being too ‘much’. That she’s being too rude, too open, too high energy.

Imagine that.

Usai

Imagine, if you will, that your life was one of strife. Of living every day from the moment you were old enough to hold your mother’s khopesh, to the moment when your lover turns her reed arrows on you. Every day, you fought against a kingdom who saw you as cattle. Who thought of your poor brother as a machine. Who hardly paid mind to his preventable early end.
Every day, you fought to shake the shackles of slavery, to shatter the skull of that horrid pharaoh who saw you and yours and theirs as nothing but property. Well treated, perhaps, property, but property.

Every. Day.
Even when you laughed with your fellows, you burned with defiance.
Even when you laid in bed, ‘safe’, you raged inside.
Even when your uncle, the former soldier that he was, trained you to hold that blade correctly, your flame was only tempered.

Then, you die.

Then, finally, just as you walk the fields to find that gentle peace… You’re attached to a child.
A child who burns with the same fervor for life that you did. Who is lonelier than you ever were. Who is trying so hard, to be true to herself and to others…

Well.
What’s one more chance to taste all that the world owes you, and get the last laugh on your (hopefully) long gone ex, and oppressor. Help a child, fight some more, live a new life, eh?
It doesn't hurt that the girl reminds you of yourself, and you’d really rather not see someone make the same mistakes. Especially in a world where time has marched on to something… Unfamiliar.

Usai appears as a menacing warrior woman from ancient Egypt, hair kept in tight braids and kohl shining with golden light. She wears hardened leather straps as her armor, with otherwise ‘standard’ linen tunic and trousers to protect her further. Above her heart blooms a startlingly red lotus flower. She is often smiling.

[With the standard powers of a Mahou Shoujou, Tomoyo supplements her increased strength and endurance with unyielding will. To put Tomtom down is to hold back the floods of the Nile.
Usai grants her ward the ability to summon weapons of myriad make and age (usually those from Greek, Roman, Egyptian and Japanese history). These weapons appear, made from starlight and constellations.
Additionally, Tomoyo and Usai have learned to shout-chant in unison, bolstering the ‘fighting spirit’ of those around them. Stars float about those who take up the call, shielding them somewhat from harm, and burning with candle-light to hold the dark at bay.]

Strawberry Romantic

Heyyy!!! O/

I have a character concept! If I’m alright to go ahead and post it here? I already dmed you, Druid, but I figured I’d ask again in ooc!