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 Name: Augustus Race: Giant Slime Mold Class: Amorphous Blob Health: 3d6+10 = 22 Armor: 1d6+10 = 16 Accuracy: +1 Skills: -Mold the mold: Flow and congeal into any arbitrary shape. -Flubber: Perform incredible feats of bounciness, stickiness, or tension. -Slime Trail: Prepare the nearby surfaces at a location, giving fungi a bonus to further rolls there. Abilities: -Digest: Coat a target and secrete enzymes to convert it into slime mold food. -The Prisoner: Engulf a target to be immobilized and silenced. -Spore Cloud: Obscures a target's vision and transmits an infection that causes damage over time. Talent: Binary Fission: Give some of your health to split off a separate blob that can act independently except for talents, which are still one-at-a-time and share the same cooldown timer. Motto: Do the creep... aah! AI Action: If there's something good to eat, eat it. If not, shapeshift into something that helps the wave. Mystery: Gelatinous, Fred Dukes, jelly bean, ponderously, taste tester Mystery 2: Beanbag cannon, tunicate (let me know if this talent isn't allowed, I have another one ready just in case) (and congrats to Valthax, Roscoe, Chauncey, and Longwei, the sole remaining topseekers of waves 1-4 respectively)
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Feb 3, 2015 00:46
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Basscop posted:
Tumor, having wasted time being confused during the last floor, seems set on not wasting any time at all. An arm reaches out from the mass, grabs the soup bowl and pours every last drop of it into it's freshly opened gaping maw. "Wait! ARE YOU CRAZY" is heard from within the blob "You're going to kill us" "SILENCE. We need to focus"... Tumor then seals shut and two heartbeats can be heard slowly speeding up. The pulsating mass wretches a bit and then... Talent roll for Metabolanalize! Talent roll: 1d4 4 - ... calms down... "DELICIOUS! What's next?" two eye stalks pop out and it seems to be quite not dead at all! Wow! why won't is just die?
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Feb 3, 2015 01:16
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 Location: A Castle in the Magical Kingdom   … I sense… That our little Joe has been defeated.   By none other than the Tower Lord, boss! I wasn’t expecting the experimental stick figure to have lasted so long, and even become part of the group to reveal the Tower Lord’s hand. He’s also a popular side kick of Bronan, boss! Yes, he would be a successful cartoon. A shame. So, what now boss, send another one? Hmm, yes, I suppose so. What should we send, boss? A full blown cartoon character? A 3D animation? No, no, it’s too soon to send in the real deal. For now, we should capitalize on the fame of Sharpener Joe. Our primary focus should be the audiences and always the audiences. Oh, oh, some sort of related character? But that’s not enough… Maybe we can go a bit further and… Plagiarize some pre-established characters? It’s not plagiarism… After I purchase the trademark with miniature amount of my vast fortune. 20th century fox is not gonna like this one! If I can buy the right to Star War, I can buy anything! Get to work! Aye, aye, boss!------------------------------------------------ A lone stickman walks alone in the destroyed town of Gillam’s Head. Not a single soul lives in this desolated wasteland. He walks toward the tower, knowing his mission has only just begun. Maybe it was fate, or destiny, he saw Giovanni kneeing outside the tower in horrors. The man who rang the bell and murdered the populaces of the whole town. The man who killed Sharpener Joe. He walks up to Giovanni and say, “Hello. My name is…”  Topseeker Creation Name: Inigo Joe Race: 2-D Animation Class: Stickman Health: 15 Armor: 16 Accuracy: +1 Skills: Fencing, Charisma, Alcohol Abilities: * Taunting * Fencing Technique * One on One Dueling Talent: I am not left handed : Auto Crit the next action. Motto: " Hello. My name is Inigo Joe. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” AI Action: Find father killer, woo woman, drink alcohol, explore tower. Mystery: Handsome, Second Dimension, Space, Revengeful, Cartoon. "… Inigo Joe. You have killed my father, prepare to die.” Nyaa fucked around with this message at 02:16 on Feb 3, 2015 |
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Feb 3, 2015 01:22
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CHAUNCEY Between attempts at flagging down a waiter, Chauncey makes an addendum to his previous statement. "Actually, that question goes for all of you! We might as well be friendly here, since we can't really do anything to each other while we're trapped in our chairs. So, to introduce myself, I am called Chauncey."
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Feb 3, 2015 01:25
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Music Theory posted:CHAUNCEY Devouring everything placed in front of him at a frightful speed, Valthax could not respond. However, the skull with glittering gems for eyes floated before Chauncey and said, "The one over there, eating like he's not seen food before, that's Valthax. And you can call me Daniel-San."
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Feb 3, 2015 01:28
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Nyaa posted:… Inigo Joe. You have killed my father, prepare to die.” Oh you absolute fuckface  But two can play at this game.   Name: Byzantiel Race: Angel Class: Celestial bureaucrat Health: 24 http://orokos.com/roll/236169 Armor: 14 http://orokos.com/roll/236170 Accuracy: +1 Skills: Flight: Self-explanatory Legalistic mysticism: Millennia of pushing papers in heaven has granted Byzantiel the ability to understand and edit laws of mortals and of nature, mostly to find loopholes or correct perceived wrongs. Angelic powers catch-all: Your basic white magic kit. Abilities: Smite: A judicious application of holy wrath. Writ of compulsion: Compel entities via means of cosmic lawyery. Curse of red tape: Doom enemies for sluggishness and general failure. Talent: Mandate of Heaven: Byzantiel calls its superior to assist in enforcing the regulations and decrees of the Infinite Cubicle. Motto: ʏᴏᴜʀ ɪᴍᴍɪɢʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ғᴏʀᴍ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇɴɪᴇᴅ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ғɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ. AI action: Stay back and support. Mystery: holy, Michael, heaven, ploddingly, prophet, longsword, sheep. Byzantiel floats next to the old man and the stickman. It fills the air with words once more. "ʜᴀʟᴛ, sᴛɪᴄᴋᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀʀᴀss ɪs ᴛᴇᴄʜɴɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴛʀᴀᴅɪᴍᴇɴsɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ-ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴛᴏ ʜᴀʀᴍ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴ ᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ʀᴇǫᴜɪʀᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʟɪᴄᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴇʟᴅʀɪᴛᴄʜ ᴡʀᴀɴɢʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ʜᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ/ᴏʀ ɢᴇʀɪᴀᴛʀɪᴄs. sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴀɴʏ sᴜᴄʜ ǫᴜᴀʟɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, I ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ." Writ of compulsion: 1d20+1: 17 Theantero fucked around with this message at 16:15 on Apr 6, 2015 |
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Feb 3, 2015 01:37
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 Name - Xyz'ck-Mk.X "The Word" Race - Final Option Class - Devastator Health - 21 Armor - 13 Excusing itself from speaking with the genocidal mass murderer and all around fun killer, The Word simply mentions to Whatever that some particularly good drama is occurring outside and our benevolent host over there is responsible. Perhaps Whatever would be the first to cover it if she wished.
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Feb 3, 2015 02:06
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HBar posted:(and congrats to Valthax, Roscoe, Chauncey, and Longwei, the sole remaining topseekers of waves 1-4 respectively)[/i] 
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Feb 3, 2015 02:27
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That list is definitely not the list I expected. I guess there's something to be said for being friendly!
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Feb 3, 2015 02:31
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 Name - Rasheek Health - 14 Armor - 16 Accuracy - +1 Skills - Swordplay, Acrobatics, Multitasking Talent - Domination Amulet Roll =1, Rapier Roll = 51 Rasheek grimaced as she stared at the horror in front of her. While she had certainly known the tastes of nobles to border on the insane at times, this took the cake. Her stomach gurgled a complaint, though whether it was in hunger or disgust, she could not tell. Music Theory posted:"Actually, that question goes for all of you! We might as well be friendly here, since we can't really do anything to each other while we're trapped in our chairs. So, to introduce myself, I am called Chauncey." Without moving her eyes from the dish, lest its contents reach out to her, she replied, "Rasheek. Captain of the Queen's Promise, Beloved of her Royal Highness, and Loser of her last ten lunches if this slop is forced down her throat." Finally moving her eyes away from the food, she addressed the dragon. "Since you seem to be starving, you may have my... meal as well." Talent Roll = 3,2,2,2,1
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Feb 3, 2015 02:42
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Teenager Whatever rolls her eyes at Chaunceys request and says “yeah, Whatever. It's not like you care.” After a very deliberate pause, she continues. “Dunno why I'm here really. Seemed fun I guess, but it's been pretty boring so far. I found this Crystal Heart a while back but I can't figure out what it does. Ever seen anything like it? “ Whatever offers the Crystal Heart up (for inspection only) to anyone who wishes to help her identify it, and in general as a conversation piece for the table at large. “So that was some party huh. Back in the village. A bit tame, but with so many old people around what are you going to do?” “At least the Skeletons knew how to dance but I think the Zombies should have dressed up a bit better. Honestly, don't they even think about that kind of stuff?” During the whole conversation she keeps her eyes at the table more then on any one guest. When she does look up, it's to check out the various people around them and her environment in general. Bringing out her Arcanomatrix device now would be inappropriate in the circumstances. So when the Word mentions something going on outside the other guests might be taken aback at the speed of which it is indeed brought forth. Even if the city had exploded, there was enough latent arcane energy (and shielded arcanonexii) where it used to be that picking up the signal was no problem at all, especially with her reception cleared up from the Words tampering. A few button presses later and the people seated at the table could get a clear view of what was happening out there, projected onto the tablecloth by a little light in the corner of her device.
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Feb 3, 2015 02:59
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CHAUNCEY "Wait, your name is Whatever? Why would - Oh. Oh, drat." Chauncey leans his head onto his hand and just kinda stares at some point in the distance.
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Feb 3, 2015 03:04
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"ᴠᴏʏᴇᴜʀɪsᴍ ɪs ᴀ sɪɴ" , Byzantiel intones to the empty air.
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Feb 3, 2015 03:07
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 Name - Nicodemus Kessler Race - Lich Class - High Lord Inquisitor of the Arcanum Illuminas. Health-13 Armor-16 Accuracy-+1 Skills - Necromantic Magic, Athletics, Royal Etiquette. Abilities - Runic blast- Alternate Ammunition- Inspiration- Talent- Holy Fervour Nicodemus sips from his soup as Chauncey addresses the table, nodding his head ever so slightly as the man appears to have some semblance of manners he is about to speak as Whatever pulls out her tablet and begins showing something to the table, Nicodemus skims through the news about the destruction outside and shakes his head "Really dear child this is not appropriate for the table" he motions his hand downwards "please if you would put that away. You were doing so well with your manners before and as you should well know the time for entertaining is after the dessert when they bring out the finishing beverages." Giving the young girl a delighted smile as an idea pops into his head he speaks up again "Perhaps you might be able to assist me at a later time you are quite keen with a needle we have seen" he gestures to the solid metal breastplate she has somehow fashioned into an appropriate garment without use of a forge "my own outfit has unfortunately become a bit drab with my constant alterations and I would inquire if you would be able to help me redecorate so to speak?" As he inquires with Whatever about her tailoring abilities he notices so many things ruining the proper manners of the table, the magehound has joined the list of messy eaters with the dragon and the blob of animated flesh? He shudders ever so slightly as he sees it envelop all of the food present on it's plate in an instant and decides to move on to more easily addressed infractions. Swivelling his head in Rasheek's direction his eyes well above the table line he gives a curt smile and raises a hand "No need to share dear it would be an affront to the kitchen staff to know that they've left someone hungry on the floor" snapping his fingers he calls to the waiter "Garçon, as you can see our draconic friend here is a much larger being than the rest of us, if you would please fetch him a larger serving of this delicious soup and in the future bring appropriately sized servings, so far the quality of such rare foods have had me impressed me and I would be incredibly upset should my recommendation be tarnished so that I could not direct others of a more monumental frame to your doors." Nicodemus gives the dragon a jaunty smile still feeling somewhat upset that his creations had harmed the poor beast, it was clear that he enjoyed the food though, so hopefully this peace offering would suffice. Turning his attention back to the shell-shocked Chauncey he tilts his head slightly and assures the man "Truly a personal travesty I'm sure but if it is any assurance" placing his hand over the hollow in his chest where a heart would be he reigns in his smile "but let me assure you it does get easier to cleanse the wicked away the more you do it." Tilting his head back he clicks his tongue and continues on as if nothing is bothering Chauncey "Ah, pardon my rudeness I forgot to introduce myself properly. Though you may know my name from my little ahem display a moment ago" he waves his hand as if brushing away an irritating insect "I am Nicodemus Kessler, son of Lucretia and Nicodemus the senior, I am next in line to the throne eternal of Aven and for the last 300 or so years I have served at the behest of the great lord Illuminas the Light of all beings, a pleasure to make your acquaintance I am sure." As the man continues to look dour Nicodemus clicks his teeth together in annoyance "Come now good sir we can't have you ruining the atmosphere of such a fine establishment" snapping his finger for the waiter again he asks with every ounce of kindhearted feeling he can muster "Would you be a good fellow and fetch this dour gentleman something strong and exotic from the bar" he affects a sympathetic face "I know it isn't quite the cocktail course but the poor soul could use a drink." e: Oh Jesus dinner parties are too fun! I'm sorry Dog Kisser!  
Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 04:44 on Feb 3, 2015 |
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Feb 3, 2015 04:31
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CHAUNCEY "Thanks." He says with a slight nod, still staring. Then he shifts his head to look at Nicodemus. "Why are you in this tower if you're the crown prince of a country?"
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Feb 3, 2015 04:43
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The conversations! The ambiance! So many people ordering him food, and giving him food! Longwei manages to choke down his bowl of soup. He feels a little bit funny on the inside, but that's honestly better than the searing pain he was feeling a few minutes before. Maybe the food was helping him recover? No, you don't want to recover. Trust me, anything that stops your fat heart from beating a moment sooner is a good thing. Longwei hears the voice, but doesn't pay it too much mind. Taking a deep breath (causing yet another strange sensation to course through his fat body), he smiles (as best he can, trying not to show off too many fangs) and politely addresses everybody at the table. "Thank you for ordering me a larger portion of food. It is true, one possessing a body such as mine does require a more abundant amount of calories. And while these plants are magnificent" Longwei gestures with one large paw at the remainder of his dish, "I'm not entirely sure about the nourishing properties that they possess. When the waiter returns, I must ask about their nutritional content. After all, I would like to preserve the strength I have left for whatever challenges we might face next." Wait, what are you doing? You can talk now? And since when do you eat healthily, you fatass? Remember those mushrooms? And the other mushrooms? And the other mushrooms? Looking at the crystal heart (the dark spots mercifully clearing for a few seconds), Longwei presents his own crystal object. "It's truly wonderful, isn't it? I'm not sure if it would give you any insight on your artifact, though. I apologize for that, although this object does possess a certain amount of sentimentality for me. Bud, correct? I... miss him, and though my remaining time here might be short, I wish to remember him as best I can." Kill us. Please. With a final, appreciative sip, Longwei finishes his bowl of soup. He is starting to feel like himself again, but not like himself - he knows he can communicate now, and wouldn't have his voice stifled by squeaks and honks. Yet, at the same point in time, he doesn't feel like he normally does. He hasn't had the urge to... Wait, is that more food? Longwei can't entirely help himself. He lets out a soft snort, his head tilting pathetically in the direction he believes the food to be approaching from.
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Feb 3, 2015 04:52
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Teenager A single look His Royal Majesty Nicodemus Kessler was all she needed to determine what the problem was. For starters, the outfit was centuries old. It was also torn in places where the bulge of absorbing an entire man onto your skeletal frame was too much for mere fabric. Yes. The man was a fashion disaster. “Looks like you need it.” She said disapprovingly. “But yeah I can work with that. After dinner, of course.” Whatever took a look at Longweis Crystal Duck. It was magnificent, in a way, but she felt it was out of place. She imagined it bobbing up and down in a bathtub made of diamonds. Absorbing the stress of a thousand lifetimes, or a single day of school. Nonetheless she replied: “Oh Ducks are pretty popular this season. For babies.” “I don't know who Bud was. Was he the ghost? I saw a ghost. It did a wicked pose. One of the best I've seen, and that's saying something. A ghost like that should be remembered.” “He was a huge poser.” Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at 05:22 on Feb 3, 2015 |
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Feb 3, 2015 05:18
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Nicodemus Part 2 "The order of the Arcanum Illuminas is-" Nicodemus pauses a moment to consider his words carefully "rather proactive in their selection of inquisitors, picking out members carefully from those in high and low places they think will be useful to their cause" He reaches into his robes having realized his visor has been off and carefully covers his emptied sockets with the delicate metal. "It was a few days before my scheduled death for transitioning into lichdom that the order approached my parents, this was roughly say about 315 years or so ago" pausing again he dips into his soup for another mouthful, wiping his lips gently with his napkin he continues "They seek out heresy in every reach of the land and wipe it clean. My country has always been heavily steeped in the necromantic arts and in most cases the Arcanum does not approve." Settling back into his chair as he takes a soft breath he pulls out his wrist showing off delicate tattoo work that has reappeared on his recycled flesh "My parents were quite benevolent people our country marks people in their youth the highborn receive a mark such as this which on their natural death keeps their soul bound to the Throne Eternal" He gently pulls his sleeve back up above the mark "Now our lowborn citizens are marked with a similar less detailed version which is tailored to each family and when that person dies their soul is siphoned through the Throne Eternal and the energy from that is used to reanimate their corpse to serve the family in all they need" Nicodemus lets his perpetual grin widen "Now needless to say in a city such as mine the rulers tend to stick around a few centuries before retiring so those in line have plenty of time to explore other interests, I took a pilgrimage out to taken in the good word of my Lord and to be honest I haven't thought about home in quite some time, this ambiance is quite nostalgic and has me thinking of the past." Nicodemus falls quiet, contemplating his memories in between sips of soup as he is addressed by the dragon surprised that it has begun to speak "Ah, apologies sir for being so presumptuous as to order for you I should not have assumed you incapable of communication" Nodding his head as best he could whilst not looking at the table he once again introduces himself if less formally this time "As I mentioned to our friend here" he gestures to Chauncey "I am Nicodemus Kessler, a pleasure Sir Dragon" Whatever offers her generous services and Nicodemus laughs lightly "Yes, I am a bit out of touch with the current trends of this century, I would be most appreciative for your assistance." Tugging a loose bit of stiching remaining from his hackjob of an outfit "As I have been making the proverbial rounds with introductions I shall do so again." Nicodemus seems less tense as the meal moves on another layer of drilled formality from the inquisition dropping "A pleasure to meet you properly off the battlefield as it were, my name is Nico." Oh Illuminas! So many words and this is just the first course!!! Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 08:17 on Feb 3, 2015 |
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Feb 3, 2015 05:41
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Name - Xyz'ck-Mk.X "The Word" The Word watches in detached amusement, or at least its controllers do. Organics and their primitive methods of communication were of some interest to the homeland. So little said and even less heard. Pheromones and volatile compounds exploded from the pores of all attending the meal. How could the babbling war criminal not read the killer intent in the Lich's eyes. No one could see Whatever's eyes darting from person to person, finding each's weaknesses and insecurities. The canine, drenched in more than blood, oozed the sharp sting of regret and fear. So much was being said but who could hear it? Perhaps only the undead. Gracing the void has a way of sharpening the senses. A static hung in the air, perhaps the ever present threat of the Chef, more likely the general malaise of death that clung to ever second in this tower. There was a part of the Word the understood. Nothing can be given animate life of that complexity and not have that intangible something seep in. A spark of emotion, bits grabbed from its time among the creatures of this world. Hate , anger, jealously, camaraderie, drama, callousness and fear. One thing it knew from birth though. Spite. If the restaurant wanted us to make the food disappear then disappear it will shall.... NO SOUP FOR YOU!: 1d4: 3,1 [7268,7269] Talent Failure Or perhaps it wouldn't. It would seem the tower lord was onto the Word's attempts to destroy the tower's structure level by level. The food on this plane was more of a fixed constant than the floor itself. No, there are easy ways around this specific trap. Perhaps the answer lay within those around it. There was kindling abound and more sparks than lighting storm. One simply must know where to apply the right nudge to get a piece to catch and the nimbleness to dodge the flame. The Word Spoke. "Yisun once sat in his garden. Feasting on a rather strange plum. Something sharp dug into the mouth of Yisun. Therein were found seven nails. The first, bony and wretched, cried out that it was but a seedling and not a nail. It was cast into the void. The next was fat and ignorant. It claimed to not know it was a nail but Yisun saw into its heart and knew the nail had watched its own kin be driven by the hammer. It too was cast into the void. The third ended in many spurs and spat into the face of Yisun, defiantly resisting its fate. A fate to which it was quickly cast. On the fourth Yisun gave a great pause for it looked as much the plum as the plum itself. Yisun thought to devour it, but the metal core of a nail cannot be denied and thus when it stuck it was spat out as were its brothers. The fifth, black and indifferent made no protests as it was pulled from the flesh of the universe and granted an audience with an equally indifferent void. Loyal at first, the sixth did all it could to avoid piercing the gums of its creator, but in its heart it knew it could not turn back once having drawn blood and was put down in the endless black. The very last nail, spiteful and crude did nail the tongue of Yisun down. It took a great force as Yisun spat, then puffed, then bellowed in an attempt to free the tongue. When the nail did eventually come free all of Yisun's great plums had all been blown out into the darkness beyond. It was then that Yisun granted the nail a boon for its accomplishment. There Yisun held the nail aloft. 'See what you have done, simple nail, such a small act has destroyed so much.' And the nail did know, for Yisun had made it so that the last nail could reflect on the great loss it had wrought as it forever drifted through the void where it was cast away without ever a second thought, save for the void which laughed at the foolishness of the nails. So sayeth the word."
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Feb 3, 2015 05:43
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Nicodemus part 3; Not another 900+ word post! Nicodemus blinks as The Word speaks up for a prolonged period of time and without comment immediately counters with a story of his own. "Once there was a kind man, seeing a great serpent attacking a bear, he went to the bear's aid, driving away the serpent. The bear was so grateful for the kindness the man had done him that he followed him about wherever he went, and became his faithful friend, guarding him from everything that might annoy him. One day as the man lay asleep, the bear, repaying the man's kindness, was sitting by him killing flies. The flies became so persistent in their annoyances that the bear lost patience, and seizing the largest stone he could find, throwing it at them in order to crush them; but unfortunately the flies escaped, and the stone landed upon the kind man's body and crushed it. " He makes the slightest tilt of his head his smile hardening, knowing that if the construct did not know what he meant by this its creators would. "The moral is, Do not make friends with fools."
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Feb 3, 2015 05:54
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Inwardly, much to the distress of his newly found voice, Longwei was honking with joy. He felt like he was back at home! Sort of. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nico. And do not worry, I am not at all offended: after all, I have been bereft of speech for most of my life. It is a true delight to be able to express myself so freely..." Longwei hopes the other individuals at the table don't catch that he was trailing off. He didn't think mentioning his incoming death would be the best thing to do. He pokes the crystal duck idly, and imagines how amazing it would be if it quacked when he did so. Unfortunately, it remained silent. "I'm glad that ducks are popular among your species. They are truly wonderful animals, although I don't see too many of them near my place of residence. What sorts of animals do you normally encounter, Whatever?" Longwei prods the duck yet again, but ceases his prodding to listen to the Bakunawa's* story of the plums and the nails, and then Nico's story of the bear and the stone. They are fascinating tales, and Longwei hopes to match them with one of his own. "An interesting parable, for sure. My species has a similar tale, of the fate of creatures and of life. Mythology tells us of a mighty dragon, that lived when the Earth was still young, and more dangerous than it is today. This titan's head reached up to the clouds, and his mighty blue flames could engulf any monstrosity. He once encountered two mighty beings, that had consumed his mate. Individually, they were weaker than him, and could have slain him, if not for the timely intervention of..." Longwei trails off, gently waving his paw in Whatever's general direction, "...your species. With their fire and his combined, the monsters stood no chance. In this way, we once sought a union with your people, for together, we would have nothing to fear from any dangers, united though they may be. Alas, it was not to be. The pride of many great dragons and the arrogance of many great humans eroded those desires into nothingness. In the end, while mythology provides guidelines for living, I fear it can do little more." Longwei idly taps the duck with his claws, thinking again of his father. *It swallows moons!
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Feb 3, 2015 06:04
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Teenager Oh, now they where sharing stories. A teenagers life was all about stories. But the stories there were more real. They affected things, changed outcomes. A good enough story was as close to reality as you could get, in some cases. “There once was a girl named Rebecca. She was super popular and all the boys (and some of the girls) liked her. She had long teal hair that she kept in a braid with several knots of cloth. Rebecca was great at athletics, she used to run around the school plaza for fun, several laps every recess. One day a boy named Gracius decided he wanted to woo her, so he waited for her to start running and sprinted after her, determined to win in this imagined race. After they had run seven laps, they both collapsed, panting, under the shade of a willow tree. He threw his arm into the air, struck a pose and congratulated himself at her expense. He slowed down before the final stretch, letting her win and told her how amazing she was, though he did not believe it. He gave it his all, but she beat him fair and square. Swallowing his pride, he became her apprentice. They married, they divorced. She never even noticed him. " "Who was he at the beginning, and who was he at the end? Every word I say changes everything about him and none of you will ever be the wiser. " Her story complete, she turned to Longwei once more. “The best creatures are cats.” She stated this as matter of factly as if her words where a mountain unshiftable by faith and the work of aeons.”The best cat is my cat.” “Aren't you? Aren't you just?” She said, and opened her backpack, letting it out. It perched on her shoulder and glared at people even more scathingly than even Whatever herself. “Say hello” "Meow" 
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Feb 3, 2015 06:33
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It swallows moons! [/quote] This is awesome and The Word is changing its talent name to Bakunawa. The Word and all of Phyrexia hold a moment of silence for the fallen great dragoon. E:By the grand cenobite, is that a cat!? Can the word...can the word pet it? Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 06:44 on Feb 3, 2015 |
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Feb 3, 2015 06:34
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quote:
Longwei's eyes bulged slightly as he continued to ponder the meaning behind Whatever's story. While he might have been feeling more clever, he still felt as if he was missing something... If you need to take some meaning away from that story, interpret it as such: descriptions without context are meaningless, and stories about unrequited love mean even less. Come to your own conclusions about the world, and do not take heed of information constructed with the intent of confounding its listeners. Haha, I must be going crazy, you're totally going to bite it and then none of this will mean anything. Life sure can be a bitch, right? Wow, the voice in his head could be a bit of a dick. Longwei's eyes then bulged enormously as Whatever produced, as if from thin air, a pudgy fuzzy! Err... cat. Longwei had to suppress his desire to honk and flail his claws amicably at the adorable creature. He settled instead for puffing excitedly.
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Feb 3, 2015 06:51
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Also it occurs, hopefully Karen the Tower Keeper's PA lived outside of town  we need someone to do the commentary! Unless little Tom Mallory somehow survived and wants to do it  .
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Feb 3, 2015 08:53
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The game is now a Dinner With Andre simulator, if Andre was a lich.
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Feb 3, 2015 13:03
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God drat it! Made me shoot coffee out of my nose, I'm sorry I'm too into dinner conversation, haha  Nicodemus just has to get some of these skeletons out of his closet.  e: It was tempting to spend six paragraphs responding to you but I figured that would be too over the line .
Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 19:57 on Feb 3, 2015 |
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Feb 3, 2015 18:56
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Feb 3, 2015 19:35
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Every time we find a floor with table and food, we sit down and do this. Girl and Monster Food room is one of those rooms.
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Feb 3, 2015 19:37
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Man, I got to step up my RP game to keep up.
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Feb 3, 2015 19:48
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Feb 3, 2015 19:52
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It's beautiful  .
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Feb 3, 2015 20:06
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This is beautiful and you're beautiful.
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Feb 3, 2015 21:39
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Arkanomen posted:This is beautiful and you're beautiful. Thank you! I'm glad you like it.
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Feb 3, 2015 22:44
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 Name - ALighterPorpoise Race - Phocoenidae. The richest of its .. people? Class - A cetacean of leisure, complete with Jeremy the Porpoise's tortoise buttler Health - 24 Armor - 14 Accuracy - +1 Skills - Swimming, Acrobatics, Being rich (useful for bribes and paying the help to do this and such, what) Abilities - Flipper kick - Bit obvious mate Deadly Screech - A loud screech, eek eek! Jeremy Kick - Kick Jeremy the Porpoise's Tortoise at the enemy! Talent - Losing things Motto - Come on Jeremy! AI Action - Yell at Jeremy to hurry up and try and have a jolly good time, what. Mystery - Blueish, the Pacific ocean, pussywillow, tenderly, Gentlepoise of Leisure Sphinx Tongue - 1/2 charges. Get an answer to a riddle, a hint, or simply an idea of what to do next - "I SAY JEHREMEH! A LOVELEH SPOT OF DINNER WHAT! WHAT SAY YOU?" "LOTHHERLYY THIRRR" Jeremy replies sarcasticaly, Sphinx Tongue hanging long out of his mouth and forcing him to speak every thing he never wanted to reveal. "YES QUITE!" Alighterporpoise says, editing out the sarcasm in his mind. "I'M NOT QUITE SURE ABOUT THIS HOST THOUGH! MANACLED TO MY SEAT LIKE AH CAH-HOMMON GUTTERSNIPE! I SAY I HAVE MAH-HANNERS YOU KNOW! NOW RELEASE ME AND SERVE ME UP SOMETHING THAT THE LOCALS WOULD HAVE WHAT, NONE OF THIS TOURIST MAHUMBO JAHUMBO!" I say! I expect better!: 1d20+5 19 - Being rich I expect to be treated much better than this!! And if you have no decorum then perhaps some of these shiny things, Jeremy sort the man out will you!
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Feb 3, 2015 22:51
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CHAUNCEY Chauncey continues to be sad. He shifts his gaze to somewhere else, but he's not really looking at whatever it is.
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Feb 3, 2015 22:54
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 Things were simpler in the old days. You were born, lived your life, then died. The afterlife you'd end up in depended entirely on the purity of your soul. The good were allowed to make the arduous climb to heaven, and the evil took the express elevator down to hell. All of that changed when the planet's population size exploded upward. Both afterlives found themselves swamped with paperwork, and the dead began to roam the world. The two factions, outmanned and overworked, agreed that the best way to solve their mutual problem was to outsource their selection procedures. And so the Soul Brokers came into existence. Their task is simple; find the recently deceased, find out where they best belong, and send them on their way. For their effort, Brokers receive a fair and commission-based compensation. But as with every industry, there are vultures out there who don't really care for the quality of their work; they're just there to make a quick buck. They tend to have... interesting business practices. Some try to pass off the essence of animals and monsters as souls. Others get mortals to sign contracts, trading their soul for material wealth. A few even take a more pro-active approach in harvesting souls by committing indiscriminate murders. Morton certainly didn't shy away from the first two, but found the latter a bit distasteful. In polite Soul Broker society he was a considered a pariah for his terrible business practices. But he prided himself on the fact that he wasn't the absolute worst. --- Name - Morton Leichenfaust Jr. Race - Ex-human Class - Soul Broker Health – 17 (http://orokos.com/roll/252137) Armor – 12 (http://orokos.com/roll/252139) Accuracy - +1 Skills - Dispel Magic – Does what it says on the tin Alchemy – Morton keeps a pouch of common reagents and alchemy tools on his person Commune with the Undead – Works just like Percy’s Abilities - Summon Undead – Summons an undead creature from the realm of the undead to fight for him Soul Contract – Morton steals an opponent’s life energy to heal himself. If the targets consents to freely give up a specified amount of life force (e.g. 10 points), Morton can drain that exact amount without going over Aura of Death – It’s just business, don’t take it personal Talent - Seal the Deal Every point of damage Morton inflicts, he gains 1 ‘soul point’. By successfully activating his talent, he can specify an amount of soul points to sell to his otherworldly customers. In exchange for the sacrificed points, he can ask for goods in return. These can be physical (a cool sword, a suit of armor, etc), or intangible (a roll bonus, a new skill, etc). The more points invested, the better the result. (The idea is that Morton will use this talent in combination with his Soul Contract ability to conjure up powerful items for his fellow Topseekers, so I don’t intend to have him use his talent for himself) Motto - "What can I get for you today? Power? Wealth? Influence? You'll find that my prices are the lowest in the entire known universe*!" AI Action - Morton will sollicit random people and enemies, hoping to peddle his 'service' to them. If he finds sellers, he'll use his Soul Contract skill to drain whatever HP they offer him. Mystery - Evil, GrimmCo, Soul, Very, Soul Broker, Ball and Chain, Bat * Terms and conditions may apply --- A magical portal briefly opened up in the wasteland surrounding the tower, and out of it stepped Morton, still talking loudly into the speaker of his Arcano Phone. "Yeah, I think I can get you another 3.4 teraSouls by the next decade or so, but the overtime is gonna cost ya extra. I've got to hang up now, though. There's a call on the other line and her name is opportunity. Buh-bye". He'd seen quite a few live broadcasts of tower runs on his scrying field, and he considered himself quite a fan. But it had never held much of his interest business-wise, until now. Upon watching the televised obliteration of Tower's Gate he expected there to be some easy pick-ups lying around. But as he expanded his mind to the realm beyond, he found absolutely nothing. Not even the slightest trace or fragment of humanoid souls. "Bugger". He mumbled to himself. "I suppose whoever owns that Tower claimed them for himself. And I can't blame him. A whole town, gone up in smoke just like that, is worth more than a fortune. I suppose I better go liberate those souls before he turns them in, then". He reached into a fold of his suit for a cigar, when all of a sudden he saw a vaguely familiar figure from the periphery of his vision. He turned to the angel and tried to make small-talk. "Hey, I know you! Bison-eel, wasn't it? Haven't seen you since the last time I made a drop-off at the Heaven field office. How are you, and who's your two-dimensional friend here?" Zybourne Clock fucked around with this message at 01:02 on Feb 4, 2015 |
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Feb 4, 2015 00:45
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 Topseeker Creation Name - Mason Race - Idiot Class - Idiot Health - 18 Armor - 11 Accuracy - +1 Skills - Phys Ed (onlee clas I got an A in), Bein' eggnored, vandalism (dun felonee charzes, only charzed wit misdumeeners) Mason strolls on up to the growing crowd outside the tower (nevermind the remains of the thousands that were just here moments before). He gazes up at the tower, with a stupid look on his face. After a minute he glances around, with a similar stupid face going on as well. Mason then promptly looks between the people around him, the bus ticket in his hand (yes, the bus just dropped him off - how else did he get here?), and the tower. This repeats for a few more times. The stupid face is still presented. To be honest, heres a hint: It's the only face he really can make. Maybe slight happy sometimes, maybe kinda sorry or sad, it's always gonna be a stupid face you want to punch. 100% guaranteed. Suddenly a gear switches in Mason's head, and he speaks out to the group: "Well, this ain't the county demolitshun derby I ken tell y'all that much. what is this tall sky skraper doin out here? Also, ken any of you valdidate my perking for me?!" Mason waves his - yes- bus ticket in your face as he asks this.
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Feb 4, 2015 01:05
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 Name: Velma Stein Race: Human Class: Med School Dropout Health: 21 Armor: 15 Skills: Black Satchel, Bedside Manner, Half-Remembered Freud (or was it Jung?) Abilities: --Syringe - shoots you up with a comically oversized syringe of dubious fluid --Phlebotomize - drains some of your blood (or other fluids as necessary) into a bag for later use --Bonesaw - saws through bone, and other materials Talent: Experimental Surgery - willing or not, one Topseeker receives an "upgrade" to their body (may or may not be an actual upgrade, but it will never make them mechanically worse)  Motto: Whoops, I must have missed the lecture where they covered that! Haha. AI action: Sedate the agitated, stimulate the listless, take prescription drugs, get medical supplies, more drugs. Mystery: Ragged, Hippocrates, bandage, woozily, nurse, blood fluke, bonesaw Skee-skee-skee-skee-skeeeeee... When Velma got close enough to the Tower that she could make out individual faces (well, on the folks who HAD faces), she jumped off her fixie and sprinted the rest of the way. "Hey! Hey guys, I heard an explosion, do you think think there's any survivors? Or corpses! Corpses would be good too!" She scanned the scorched plain for human remains more intact than fine ash, and did a little hop when she saw Giovanni. "Aha! I knew with a city this size there's be at least SOME useable material left over. Hmm, those don't look like blast wounds, but I don't know, I never took Explosions 302! Haha, that was a joke, I didn't even get all the way through Explosions 301. Oh goodness, you're moving too, I'm sorry I thought you had died! WHOOPS-ie!" Velma nonchalantly stows the bonesaw she had taken out while chattering. Turning to Mason, "Well, at least SOMEbody's healthy and human! Although hmmm... hrmm... yes, I can see you've got a pre-existing condition. Well, I've got just the thing for your sluggishness." She holds out a few orange capsules for Mason. "Don't be shy, they won't bite, haha! Here, see," and she swallows one of them herself.
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Feb 4, 2015 02:23
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| # ? Jun 12, 2024 06:14 |
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Zybourne Clock posted:"Hey, I know you! Bison-eel, wasn't it? Haven't seen you since the last time I made a drop-off at the Heaven field office. How are you, and who's your two-dimensional friend here?" For a moment, Byzantiel says nothing, floating still and letting an aura of profound irateness suffuse the area instead. Finally, its many wheels begin to slowly turn, their many eyes throwing glances at the soul broker. A monotonous drawl of poorly disguised contempt fills the air. "ʙᴜsʏ ᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs, ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇʀ ʟᴇɪᴄʜᴇɴғᴀᴜsᴛ. ᴍᴏsᴛʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴀɪɴᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ᴄᴇʟᴇsᴛɪᴀʟ ᴘᴀʀᴋs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴɢᴇᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴇssᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴛᴡᴏ ʜᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ғɪғᴛʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ sǫᴜɪʀʀᴇʟs ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜʟ ᴏғ sᴀɪɴᴛ sᴘᴜᴛɴɪᴋ. ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴᴇʀs sᴇᴇᴍ ʟᴇss ᴛʜᴀɴ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪᴠᴇɴ ᴇxᴄᴜsᴇ ᴏғ 'ʜᴇʏ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴊᴜsᴛ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ! ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ᴍʏ ғᴀᴜʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜʏ ʜᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛᴛᴇʀs.' ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟ sᴏᴜʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴛᴇ sᴛ. sᴘᴜᴛɴɪᴋ ʜᴀs sᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪᴛs ᴡᴀʏ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴀ ᴋᴀʀᴜᴍʙɪᴀɴ ᴅʀᴜɢ ʟᴏʀᴅ -ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴄᴏɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴀᴄᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ-, ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs sɪᴍᴘʟᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇ." Byzantiel stops spinning for a moment, all of its eyes somehow staring at the broker, even though such a thing shouldn't really be geometrically possible. It continues, this time in the menacingly matter-of-fact tone only a seasoned official is capable of. "sᴏ, ᴜɴʟᴇss ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʟᴇᴀɴ ᴜᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴄᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ sᴇʀɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀ ɴᴏᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀsɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ɢᴀᴛʜᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜʟ ɪᴍᴍɪɢʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇɢʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛᴛᴇᴇ ᴅᴜᴇ ɪɴ 102 ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɴᴅ 3 ᴅᴀʏs. ɪ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀsᴋ sᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴀᴅᴍɪɴɪsᴛʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ғᴀsᴄɪᴇʟ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴ ᴏғғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ʀᴇᴘʀɪᴍᴀɴᴅ." Convinced that its target is suitably intimidated, Byzantiel goes silent once more. Theantero fucked around with this message at 14:46 on Feb 4, 2015 |
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Feb 4, 2015 12:15
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