NATION

PASSWORD

Personification Life: EPIC (IC Thread XI) [CLOSED]

For all of your non-Nationstates related roleplaying needs!

Advertisement

Remove ads

User avatar
Chedastan
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5626
Founded: Jul 25, 2013
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Chedastan » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:31 pm

Romulus was still reading the text on the laptop's screen when Rudolf had urgently stopped briefly at the Belas' door for a to call to arms, before vanishing to presumably alert others. An attack? Is it the Fiends, already? He instinctively sprung up from his seat and set the laptop away, he knew that if it was what he thought it was, he had to gather his equipment right now before any trouble could enter the building, luckily his apartment was next door. "Well I don't know about the rest of you, but that sounds very concerning and needing of my presence right now." He spoke as he started quickly towards the door, but paused to address his host.

"Amanda, I wish we can continue this later, it was very lovely for when it lasted." He spoke a bit out of regret for any rudeness he was committing, but whatever must be happening was his top priority right now. He left the Belas' apartment to get a few feet to his own. Within less than a minute, he was out his door clad in his suit of power armor and armed with his weapons, and preceded down the hallway of his floor to make his way down to the lobby, where no doubt they'll probably be gathering. If there was any moment to at least prove his worth to some of these people, this might be that moment for all he knew at this point.

When he finally made it to the lobby, he was relieved right away when he saw that the front doors had been already locked up. He saw the cultist that alerted them was here, along with anyone else that heeded him that followed suit. He hastily made his way up to that cultist along with a few others, whilst looking out the front windows for any signs of threats incoming. "What's the situation? What are we dealing with here?" He had turned his head towards him and urgently asked him for confirmation. By Wilhelm, please don't be! I thought we had time for this.
Last edited by Chedastan on Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:40 pm, edited 2 times in total.
adhouse
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.

User avatar
Cerillium
Senior P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 12454
Founded: Oct 27, 2012
New York Times Democracy

Postby Cerillium » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:32 pm

LOBBY

"Ungeheuer, Nikanor, Romulus," Rudolf peered through the lobby's front window curtains. The ogres' large forms stood out in the ash field. "Don't know how many. Don't know what they want."

Tsk! Volker's brow arched. "At least it's not Fiends. If they want rooms, they're not on the list. They can come back in the morning if they want the Manager."

The cultist at the window snorted as he took their gait into account. "I don't think they want rooms, Volker."

The band neared the trees, setting the Luxans' devil traps off, and stopped at the former lawn's perimeter. A heated exchange too place before Rudolf's eyes, though his ears couldn't hear a sound from outside, and then the band continued onward towards the Building.
Last edited by Cerillium on Fri Jan 22, 2016 5:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith
There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears, and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination.

User avatar
Germanic Templars
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20393
Founded: Jul 01, 2011
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Germanic Templars » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:34 pm

TotallyNotEvilLand wrote:
Germanic Templars wrote:GYM
The low humming of the treadmill and the rhythmic beat the soles made when hitting the surface became Max's escape. Mentally Max was phased out from reality, or what seemed to be reality to him.

Despite the weighted plates placed in his jumpsuit and the bandolier of equipment he carried on him, the anthro was able to keep a steady 6 minute and 30 second pace and entering into his third mile.


APARTMENT 7G
Her spartan accomodations had become somewhat tiring after a while. After the initial attack on the building, Crysal and her sister remained in their rooms, independently trying to find a way to get back to, or at least somehow contact their homes. Unfortunately, it became obvious that it wasn't happening any time soon, and feverish praying wasn't the solution either.

Having realized this, Crysal needed something to focus on other than getting home while they were in this strange, other world. Her health always took priority, so the idea of hitting the gym was an appealing one. Stepping out of her room (inexplicably it was more of a neolithic forest than a bedroom), she made her way to the gym, where she had spotted someone wearing a jumpsuit, and a bandolier... curious, she thought, as she stepped onto the treadmill next to his, giving him a acknowledging nod. It was then she heard some yelling of 'ALARM' from outside of the gym.

"Well, that's another way to exercise." The Arkadacian muttered, not even getting to start the treadmill before she stepped off of it, looking to the fellow she hadn't met before. "Are you coming with me? I'm sure whatever is enough to get an old German man running through the hallways and screaming is important enough to involve everyone in the building."

Max's mind still wondered into empty thought and nothingness, his gaze set straight but saw nothing but the void in his mind; empty thought clouded his eyes only for a mind of clarity. This was short lived as he saw Crysal out of his peripheral. His brown eyes glared at her from head to toe as if he was examining the stranger who nodded at him; his eyes mostly fixed on her face, recognizing it for future purpose. The creepy stalker glare went on for a moment with him. The anthro directed his eyes ahead again saying nothing to the tall (only by 3 inches) woman next to him.

Despite his efforts to focus on his run, the Crysal gave Max a weird feeling to him, as if she was a "meta" or some creature to it that the professors and scientists create and examine. Possibly an alien of sorts too, or a hybrid. The possibilities and chances of what she was stayed on his mind as he continued his run.

Though her question and the man screaming did get him to ponder on it for a moment. The treadmill slowed down upon the push of the button until it reached a complete stop. He looked at her again, this time his whole head. "Let me see what the Kaiser has to say. I only take orders from him. Follow, stay, or fight without me, alien, either way we will meet again."

At the end of that, Max ran out the gym to find his emperor.
Last edited by Germanic Templars on Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.

  • INTP
  • All American Patriotic Constitutionalist/Classic libertarian (with fiscal conservatism)
  • Religiously Tolerant
  • Roman Catholic
  • Hoplophilic/ammosexual
  • X=3.13, Y=2.41
  • Supports the Blue


I support Capitalism do you? If so, put this in your sig.

XY = Male, XX = Female

User avatar
New Aksarben
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12311
Founded: Oct 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby New Aksarben » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:43 pm

Maghrl's keen ears twitched as he heard a voice with a strange accent shouting what seemed to be a call to arms? That was not good, not good at all. As such, the squib rapidly shed the extra belts and bags he was wearing, along with his cloak. He wrapped up his backs in the cloak and deposited the bundle, secured with a belt tied around it, on the seat next to him. He could collect it after this. Wouldn't do to have that extra weight around, and his main belt had enough pockets and pouches attached to provide him with plenty of telekinetic ammo. Plus rock and dirt was always useful, or ruins, or whatever. Either way, it was time to go.

"Maghrl sorry, Asdra-Human. Must find-see what going on. Talk-speak later, yes yes?"

Without waiting for a proper answer, he grinned brightly and rushed off down to the lobby, where he'd seen the man shouting alarm go. He pulled out his main saber and held it ready, a look of determination on his face, brows slightly furrowed in concern as well. Though he was obviously quite new (its hard to miss a small purple alien after all), he noted the weird ones dressed with what seemed to be military guard seemed to be the ones to turn to. He had no context for what their uniforms met anyway.

"We-us under battle-attack?" He asked them, shuffling a bit antsily as he did. "Or Whatever-things want talk maybe? Never Know, Maghrl told pastwise."

Meanwhile, Sterling had stepped down into the lobby as well, though kept a bit further back from the rest of the gathering group, as he was unsure what help he could provide besides, well, picking things up. Kind of difficult to fight, and the pony knew literally nothing about a proper battle. If things got rough he'd definitely run up further into the building.
Last edited by New Aksarben on Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Happiness is when
what you think,
what you say,
and what you
do are in harmony.
-Gandhi
Official Squirrel of PL

Agnostic
Democratic Socialist
Comp Sci Major
History Enthusiast
Amateur Artist - My Art!
Nonbinary/Genderqueer
Gay
Wragon Furry
Brony

User avatar
Tiltjuice
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33937
Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:44 pm

Northwest Slobovia wrote:"You're now in Demens' private dimension; it seems nobody enters without his permission. The rest of us and this building were in another dimension until early yesterday morning. Which is, I suppose, a round-about way of answering your question: we're not sure what's going to happen here. I will say that I and some others -- include the General -- spent today in Ascalon, a city about an hour's drive from here, and the last I saw of my husband, he was going to help people from the nearest village find sheep in a magical forest near here."


Cerillium wrote:"ALARM! ALARM!" Rudolf lacked subtlety (and explanation) as he tore through the halls and pounded on doors. Sandy's door was open and people were milling about. He paused at the apartment's threshold. "Hey, we are going to be hit by big and nasty, ja! Rouse! To arms!"

The former Nazi was gone in a flash -- down the stairs, and through the next hall. He'd eventually end in the Lobby where Volker, already a step ahead, had taken the liberty of locking the front doors.


"And then again, there are times when trouble finds us. This is really rather rare, though," Dora said, sliding out into the hallway past Opa. Her fingers turned the little silver device over and over. Then, finally...Screw courtesy, I'll apologize later if Amanda or anyone else complains.

The spark wheel clicked against the stone and another cigarette flew out; she caught it with her hand, lit, and propped it between her lips, exhaling as she exited. Smoke drifted sideways in the hallway as she checked both ways. That was clear so far, and she turned to the others.

"We'll need to get to the hospital, I expect," she drawled. "Safest place, and there will probably be wounded at some point. Let's all go meet Ogoti."
I wear teal, blue, pink & red for Swith. | ✎ Member - ℘ædagog
Discrimination is unworthy. | Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. -Khalil Gibran

User avatar
Northwest Slobovia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11834
Founded: Sep 16, 2006
Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:47 pm

Cerillium wrote:Sandy's door was open and people were milling about. He paused at the apartment's threshold. "Hey, we are going to be hit by big and nasty, ja! Rouse! To arms!"

Amanda didn't need a second hint. She quickly explained the situation to Dora's tour group. "Looks like that's the end of the visit. If you can fight, head down to the Lobby. Captain Blackwater is probably getting people organized down there. The odds are that my husband Sandy is there as well. He's in charge of our healers, so if you know magical healing or medicine, look for him, a tall guy with brown hair. And if you'll excuse me, I'll be heading for the lobby myself in a moment."

Tiltjuice wrote:"We'll need to get to the hospital, I expect," she drawled. "Safest place, and there will probably be wounded at some point. Let's all go meet Ogoti."

Amanda nodded at Dora's mention of the hospital. "If Sandy's there, tell him I went to the lobby, and if he's in the lobby, I'll let him know where you are."

Amanda waited for Romulus to pass her on his way out, muttering something about continuing later. As long as nobody got killed, that would be fine with her. She hurried to over to the coat hooks by the door, tossed her suit jacket over a hook, and slid her shoulder holster back on. She pulled her jacket back on, made sure everybody had left her apartment, and then pulled the door locked behind her. She took the elevator down.

Emerging from the elevator car in the lobby, Amanda stood on tiptoe, trying to see Sandy. She found him by the windows, along with Bran, a woman she didn't recognize, and Romulus, now back in his armor. She brushed by people on her way over to them, tugged on Sandy's sleeve, whispered something that might have been a joking "how was your day?".
Last edited by Northwest Slobovia on Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:56 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Gollum died for your sins.
Power is an equal-opportunity corrupter.

User avatar
Primordial Luxa
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12092
Founded: Oct 30, 2012
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:57 pm

Ogre Bowl
Primordial felt a slight tugging on his consciousness one which immediately got his hopes up as he thought that it might be the sensation of some loathsome alien intelligence trying to get in contact with him through primal channels of psychic potential. However, as the sensation continued he realized that it was not the cool slippery touch of a malignant sentience worming its way into his mind with instructionally perverse messages like his usual dreams felt. But instead it was mechanical and intrinsic, the kind of sensation that might be experienced when remembering the words to a language one learned briefly, but quickly forgot out of lack of use. This told him that it was not a truly sentient thing trying to touch his mind but a magically mechanical one that fulfilled simple wishes and responded to metaphysical stimuli much like regular technology might.

He at once knew where the signal was coming from since there were so few places that such a signal could actually originate and that would also have this exact sensation on him. He concluded that Insidious’s Devil traps must have been triggered by something of either incredible size of magical potential and so he stood up with a definitive anger and melancholy as he began to walk downstairs. On his way to investigate he deliberated on how happy he had been for the second there he thought that his nightmarish dreams had once again returned to him. The departure trashing lashes of a deity’s cancerous thoughts assailing him each night and granting his waking actions some measure of meaning was a loss he was struggling to accept.

He entered the lobby just as Romulus did so and wandered over the Rudolf and Volker looking the slightest bit drunk. Normally his system could handle it but he had brought strong stuff and had been sucking on the bottle for quite a long while now. His vision was fine and he motor skills seemed unaffected but there was a change in his tone so that his words and expression were more casual and less intense than they usually were. “What’s with all the yelling mates” he jovially said squinting to glare out into the darkness of the window they were looking through. Upon seeing the large shapes lumbering forward he said “Oh…I see well that’s…new. How many of them have you all counted so far?”

Already Primordial was considering what he had that could deal with the such large bulky creatures. The Runes he had carved on the door were not designed for them, they were more geared to stopping the fiends but he could probably fix that with a couple drops of blood and a few minutes of chanting. He also ran through the items in the vault that hadn’t been destroyed by the dimension transitioning. These creatures didn’t look overly powerful, most of their threat seemed to come from their strength rather than any obvious magical power or supremely dangerous abilities so he figured standard physical and metaphysical weapons would be effective. Still he kept an eye out for marking and symbols which might help him narrow down exactly what by of creatures these things were. Obvious they were ogres, trolls or giants of some caliber but a swamp troll and a mountain giant were very different creatures and a small difference might offer him a small advantage.

The most obvious solution was some Dimensionally transcendent rounds loaded with raw explosives or perhaps enchanted nails to take advantage of their arcane physiology. But Insidious did have that lightning gun and he always loved the sensation that thing made when he fired it. Still he waited for an obvious signal of violence, perhaps these creatures were merely hungry and could be satiated with some left over’s from their meal.
Last edited by Primordial Luxa on Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...

P2TM wrote:HORROR/THRILLER Winner - Community Choice Award For Favorite Horror/Thriller Player: Primordial Luxa


Factbook (underconstruction)
Personification Life and GAU Posts
Luxan Imperial Narcotics (The ONLY narcotics store on GE&T)

User avatar
Tiltjuice
Post Czar
 
Posts: 33937
Founded: Jan 20, 2012
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tiltjuice » Thu Jan 21, 2016 9:58 pm

Giovenith wrote:
Brit and Chrys

That answer, mysterious as it was, was good enough for Clover.

"The best drinks."

Gently cupping a hoof, Clover gestured to help Mirare through the air and steady within Chrys' psychic grip, taking it down the moment she seemed assured that it would not fall to the floor. It wouldn't matter too much anyway; Mirare was strong, just like any unicorn who wished to wield her had to be.

The sorcerer's apprentice focused her own telekinesis within her cloak to pull out a small green crystal ball from it's folds, holding it in the air and she looked Chrys in the eye again. "It's a shame you two didn't come at a more peaceful time, we could be talking over those drinks already about space and time rather than this. But still, I think this will do us good. If you're going to use Mirare, the least we need to do is practice a bit with it's specialties."

The magic surrounding the crystal ball remained, Clover closing her eyes daintily to maintain the concentration, but allowed it to fall to the floor. Rather than shattering upon the stone it seemed to quickly melt down into the floor, the surrounding room becoming blacker and blacker as it did until they were standing in dark, formless dimension with no apparent corners or walls. It was almost harrowing, until Clover opened her eyes and the space simultaneously lit up with brilliant twinkling lights and bright, swirling clouds of colors. The glorious sight surrounded them on all sides, for though beneath them felt physical as any ground, the powerful illusion that engulfed them made it as though they were walking on the non-air of deep outer space. The illusion was apparently more than just visual though, as Clover walked on and lead Chrys through the ethereal nebulae far further than the walls of Argenta's memorial room had confined.

"I will tell you a little about our own faith," the young magician said, leading the Conservator on through the magical walk. " 'From Adam's choice, to Amalthea's regret', that is the motto of our tribe. It is mysterious in it's meaning, and we like it that way. For as long as our race has dwelt in the mountains, and upon the planet itself, we have told a story to our children. It says that an unfathomably long time ago, the Heavens came into being and decided to create our world, and all the creatures upon it. They wove their vision into every ocean, tree, and mountain, and they set about every species and race in the cradle of their existence, but it was not until after the Creation that they gave each creature their name. Our First was the first to be named, called 'Unicorn' by the holy creation force, and such as touched upon the horn and declared most blessed among creatures..."

She sucked in her lips briefly and smiled bashfully to Chrys. "Or at least, that is how it is often phrased. I know this may come as a surprise, but we can be rather vain from time to time..." she giggled in wholesome self-deprecation. "The point though is that the Heavens, our Creator, gave us a duty then, at the beginning of time. Touching Unicorn's horn and bestowing them with heavy blessing, the Heavens in all Their wisdom gave us custody over Their physical avatars in this realm; the sun, the moon, the stars, all in-between. For noble on Earth would we be, yet still proud servants to the larger-than-life wonder, a deep and enduring responsibility to maintain the cycle while the Heavens slept, till came the time when They would awaken and return to us in a new and familiar form and relieve us of our duty. It is only then a bright and golden new future will begin, far, sweet, eternal utopia ruled with fair hand by Them - the Great to-be Queen and God."

Clover at last halted their walk, stopping them above the distant but bright sight of a forming star. It was in that radiant in-between stage where it was no longer a cloud of cosmic dust but not yet a glowing orb, smoldering arms swirling around a bright center like dancer's ribbons. It would be a powerful sun one day, for now it was a nicely lit spot for Chrys and Clover's practice.

"The part us Glorianans tend to forget is that the Heavens are said to treasure all the ponies," she explained, bending her snout low to the invisible ground to inspect the growing sun. She smiled, quietly rooting for it in her heart. Yes, she could relate, that was all their dream - be big, be strong, be beautiful. "The pegasi and the Earth ponies too. After the Heavens gave us Their personifications, They gave the pegasi the air, and They gave the Earth ponies the life force of the, well, Earth. When They return to us to rule They will take all three of our kinds under Their guidance, and we shall all enjoy the future forever Golden Age together. But only we know this, the other tribes have no version of our legend, despite us thinking to include them in it. Even the greatest prophets cannot decipher any specifications beyond the simple tale though, and in these times..."

The green pony frowned, stood back up straight, and took a deep breath.


"... many believe the Heavens have become displeased with us and revoked their promise of utopia, leaving us, and subsequently the Earth, to perish. But I do not. I am one of those with the gift of prophecy, though it is imperfect, and I believe that this is a crucible we will endure if only we continue on. If only I continue on. But I have you and Brit's assistance now." Clover smiled brightly at her new friend. "I believe you are a gift sent through the unfathomable by the Heavens to help us endure, and I will not let that gift go to waste. I will teach you the secrets of Mirare, so that we may continue on."

Pinkish-purple magic surrounded Clover's horn again, and what appeared to be new tiny stars hovered above them, though these were within their reach and clearly under Clover's control. "Are you prepared?"


Brit and Chrys ewps

"I am."

The tale had filled her with wonder, and dulled her cheer by comparison; but no, it was neither overshadowed nor gone. To the contrary, the light had dawned and she knew what was expected of her - and as always, Fate stood at her back. Her guidance, Chrys felt certain, would help the Conservator learn, and grow. And that was all that was expected of them all, in the end.

Almost all...

Chrys smiled back at Clover, and repeated herself. "Onwards we go!"
Last edited by Tiltjuice on Sun Jan 24, 2016 6:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I wear teal, blue, pink & red for Swith. | ✎ Member - ℘ædagog
Discrimination is unworthy. | Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. -Khalil Gibran

User avatar
Swith Witherward
Senior P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 30302
Founded: Feb 11, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby Swith Witherward » Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:02 pm

Rude words tumbled from Rodney's lips as he climbed the stairs and emerged on the Building's main floor. FUBAR had barred him entry. Not entry to his own apartment, oh no thank you very much, but entry to the entire bloody hall. How was a Being to take tea if he couldn't walk up to his own front door? The vulgar words petered out as his ears caught Rudolf's dulcet tones. Well, if one couldn't enjoy tea, one could always enjoy being snoopy.

The Nifid cracked the maintenance hall door and poked a nose into the lobby. The nose was followed by an eye, and then the rest of his face. Troubles? Woe? Typical nonsense? Rodney was a good sport (sometimes), and mayhem delighted him (always). The rest of him emerged from the hall.

"Plague? Famine? Apocalypse?" the man in the green suit quipped as he approached the reception desk to stand beside Romulus.
Senior P2TM RP Mentor

How may I help you today?
adhouse
Role Play
& Writers Group
Why is everyone a social justice warrior?
Why didn't any of you choose a different class,
like social justice mage or social justice thief?
Anti-intellectual elitism: the dismissal of science, the arts, and humanities and their replacement by entertainment, self-righteousness, ignorance, and deliberate gullibility.
- sauce

User avatar
TotallyNotEvilLand
Senator
 
Posts: 3570
Founded: May 29, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby TotallyNotEvilLand » Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:15 pm

Germanic Templars wrote:
TotallyNotEvilLand wrote:APARTMENT 7G
Her spartan accomodations had become somewhat tiring after a while. After the initial attack on the building, Crysal and her sister remained in their rooms, independently trying to find a way to get back to, or at least somehow contact their homes. Unfortunately, it became obvious that it wasn't happening any time soon, and feverish praying wasn't the solution either.

Having realized this, Crysal needed something to focus on other than getting home while they were in this strange, other world. Her health always took priority, so the idea of hitting the gym was an appealing one. Stepping out of her room (inexplicably it was more of a neolithic forest than a bedroom), she made her way to the gym, where she had spotted someone wearing a jumpsuit, and a bandolier... curious, she thought, as she stepped onto the treadmill next to his, giving him a acknowledging nod. It was then she heard some yelling of 'ALARM' from outside of the gym.

"Well, that's another way to exercise." The Arkadacian muttered, not even getting to start the treadmill before she stepped off of it, looking to the fellow she hadn't met before. "Are you coming with me? I'm sure whatever is enough to get an old German man running through the hallways and screaming is important enough to involve everyone in the building."

Max's mind still wondered into empty thought and nothingness, his gaze set straight but saw nothing but the void in his mind; empty thought clouded his eyes only for a mind of clarity. This was short lived as he saw Crysal out of his peripheral. His brown eyes glared at her from head to toe as if he was examining the stranger who nodded at him; his eyes mostly fixed on her face, recognizing it for future purpose. The creepy stalker glare went on for a moment with him. The anthro directed his eyes ahead again saying nothing to the tall (only by 3 inches) woman next to him.

Despite his efforts to focus on his run, the Crysal gave Max a weird feeling to him, as if she was a "meta" or some creature to it that the professors and scientists create and examine. Possibly an alien of sorts too, or a hybrid. The possibilities and chances of what she was stayed on his mind as he continued his run.

Though her question and the man screaming did get him to ponder on it for a moment. The treadmill slowed down upon the push of the button until it reached a complete stop. He looked at her again, this time his whole head. "Let me see what the Kaiser has to say. I only take orders from him. Follow, stay, or fight without me, alien, either way we will meet again."

At the end of that, Max ran out the gym to find his emperor.

She had always hated meeting new people. Without exception, the first encounter always involved them trying to figure out what she was, though their reactions often varied. Thankfully, if this one immediately had a thought of disgust, he kept it hidden well. She hadn't made too many assumptions regarding the canine's origins. Likely just a standard human animal hybrid that spawned from some quirk of the universe, much like most of the non-human species she'd encountered. Scientific or magical origins never crossed her mind.

Crysal watched the talking German Shepherd run off, a bemused expression on her face as he headed out. Well, she had to pick up her armor from her bedroom anyway, so she'd head after him and pick up her equipment along the way, keeping up with Max fairly well, treating it as a casual jog.

"You know, alien is a rather poor term to use. Anyone is an alien with the proper mindset. I find it... irritatingly vague and non-specific, too broad." She said, keeping an eye on the rooms as they passed them. Nowhere near hers yet, she figured. "Proper term is Crysal Iracuse." The Arkadacian huffed out. "What is your name? Unless you'd like me to call you mutt so we can keep the vague names for one another consistent."
Liquid Wallaby Characters, Updated 4/27 (Rough sketches for Creezul and Kehelli are completed)
If you use the term SJW or 'politically correct' to describe anyone left of center, I'm pretty sure that destroys all of your credibility as an intelligent human being. Quit being a twit and use something other than a buzzword to make your point.
A Moderately-Talented But Very Unreliable Roleplayer
Current flag is Frisk's Unamused Face

User avatar
Mincaldenteans
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 9450
Founded: Feb 17, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Mincaldenteans » Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:23 pm

Mezran & Tavana
Two klingons sat in silence as they shared a meal together in the dining space of Mezran's quarters. Rokeg blood pie and Bok-rat liver slathered with grapok sauce was tonight's feast and the two warrior exchanged stories in silence instead of the usual zeal and fervor their species were known for. It was certainly a change, something Mezran did not mind so much with Tavana for company. Downing a hefty swig of bloodwine, the captain let out a belch and froze in place, realizing his company. She didn't seem to care, tearing into her own liver held with one hand, much like a Grishnar Cat securing a kill.

"This replicated food pales in comparison to the real thing," Tavana critiqued, dropping the half masticated liver with a wet plop upon the dark grey steel plates. "The blood and meat hold no warmth as it should."

"Aye," Mezran said with a grunt, turning his attention to the blood pie with a fork. Normally, Klingons ignored such utensils save for a few choice dishes. The blood pie was one of those. Tavana grabbed his pie, and the Klingon jerked his head up in offense. There was a perfectly good pie sitting not an arm's reach away!

The warrior woman chose to ignore his annoyance as she gazed, unimpressived, at the pie, "let us see if this measures to standards."

A low growl for having his food taken right from under him reverberated from his belly. He may have been fond of her, but that did not make it acceptable to...

All bluster was snuffed out at the familiar voice of a brother, booming through the room with accompanying hard pounds upon Mezran's door. Another attack? Why were they not informed for one possible!? Tavana had taken noticed as well, having dropped her fork and forgotten about the pie. "Battle," was all she said and it was enough to spur the two throw their plats into the replicator slot and gather their weapons.

"We are not prepared. We didn't even receive scouting reports," Tavana hissed as she holstered her twin daggers. "We will have the same outcome as we did last?"

"I do not know, but I intend to find out," Mezran declared, jerking his mek'leth from its restraints and sheathing his D'k tahg upon his right hip. Worn and battered armor in place for both of them, the Klingons left the apartment and found themselves amid a small crowd gathering. He could only offer a grimace at the top left of his mouth at the sight as he quickly appraised all; hardly a team of combatants to whatever the emergency was.

"Ru'Hoff!" He bellowed above the crescendo of so many voices that steadily rose as people grew in number. The grizzly Klingon pushed past the people, untethered and unconcerned to those he pushed past. Tavan would only glance at those she passed by in Mezran's wake, she noted Anais and Sandy, as well as others from the previous night's battle. She only offered a nod in acknowledgement and stood by Mezran's side as the Klingon all but jostled his way to close by. He noted the others and gave stiff nods in acknowledgment.

"What ails you, brother? What challenges us this night?"

Hunter & Dan
"I swear, that has got to be the rudest person I've ever laid eyes upon," Dan said with a grimace to sight of the towering Klingon that pushed others aside. How rude, how presumptuous! Hunter placed a hand upon the fae's shoulder to detract the summer born from his irritation.

"Doesn't matter, what matters is what the hell is going on right now," Hunter said firmly. "Think we're in for another attack? I could use a gun if that were the case. Don't suppose you know of anyone?"

The fae shook his head, he had no answers, and was a good way to hide his contempt for weapons. Specifically guns; that meant lead. He had no use for it, nor was being at the end of one pleasant, recalling his contribution to team that saved Tasia that night at the warehouse, and having a bullet to his shoulder for it. A successful mission, but not an experience he wished to relive. "I don't," he said simply, spotting Sterling in the lobby as well.

"Sterling," Dan greeted quickly, "Not sure what's going on but once we find out, stick with us if you like."

"There you boys are," Cherry announced herself, closing in on the trio. "That lumbering jack ass pushed by us, care to join the party?" She thumbed behind her to the guild.
Last edited by Mincaldenteans on Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
P2TM RP Mentor: Have a question on RP'ing? Feel free to TG me!
PL: Demens Chosenadhouse
P2TM Info DepotTraveler's CafeP2TM Chat Thread
☼ I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith ☼

User avatar
The BranRiech
Post Czar
 
Posts: 31391
Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:28 pm

Drova's nightmare

"No! I didn't kill anyone! I couldn't have."

Drova was airborne now, his wings utterly still though. An unseen force was levitating the Prince.

"You killed us! All of us!"

The voices doubled in ferocity, and quantity, the pained screams of thousands were tearing his ears apart, digging their way into his mind as he was forced to look down at the piles of bodies in the streets. "No! It wasn't me! S-stop!" He screams, as the voices become almost lethal, tearing the Prince's body apart. His wings were picked off first, tearing from his back, leaving jagged stumps of bone.

Needless to say, Drova wished he was among the bodies.

The forces in control of the ghastly nightmare continued onwards, ripping Drova's arms and legs right out of their sockets, and tossing them off over the balcony. Before he faded out of consciousness, he heard each one of them plop down into the water below.

"You killed us . . ." The voices whispered, as Drova died, limbless, the last witness to the death of his race.

--

Actual Drova

"Ah!"

He shot up, chest beating heavily, the rise and fall of the Prince's shirt harried at best. He hopped out of bed, and looked over at the mirror. It had remained broken, of course. The goblet he threw was still lying on the floor, and Yuna was still nowhere to be found.

"Rouse! Rouse!"

His ears picked up the heavily-accented voice instantly, running past his door. The Prince, fearing the worst, such as when the elevator crashed, leapt into action. His eyes narrowed, and as shitty as he felt, he still had a sense of duty about him. His sword had laid unused for the better part of . . . Well, most of his life. He'd never actually used it before, besides for ceremonial duties.

Whether he was ready for it or not, the sword finally found it's home on Drova's waist, as the Prince exited into the hall. His face was calm, but it was just the opposite of what he looked like. Anyone could tell he was nervous, but about what? One would need to press the young man for answers, answers he wasn't willing to give.

He stopped at a nearby door though, and knocked. He really, really didn't want to be around anyone, but knocking on Thriller's door was the only way he thought he could find out what the voice was.

--
Bran

"Watch where you're going." Bran grimaced as the two hulking forms that were the two Klingons pushed past the man. He wasn't about to back down to any of the building's residents. Years of dealing with their shit had left Bran somewhat jaded when it came to dealing with beings more powerful than he. It wasn't in his nature, but the tired man was more focused on keeping himself upright than he was on being the timid and polite man he usually considered himself.

His grimace, only a few inches away from a frown, curled downwards to complete the transformation, and Bran sighed, holding the rifle down towards the floor. The two larger beings who'd pushed their way in front of him had already seemed to have taken over the room, and not just in presence.

"I'll do whatever we need to." He shrugged, considering they'd taken over the impromptu briefing.

User avatar
Germanic Templars
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20393
Founded: Jul 01, 2011
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Germanic Templars » Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:40 pm

TotallyNotEvilLand wrote:She had always hated meeting new people. Without exception, the first encounter always involved them trying to figure out what she was, though their reactions often varied. Thankfully, if this one immediately had a thought of disgust, he kept it hidden well. She hadn't made too many assumptions regarding the canine's origins. Likely just a standard human animal hybrid that spawned from some quirk of the universe, much like most of the non-human species she'd encountered. Scientific or magical origins never crossed her mind.

Crysal watched the talking German Shepherd run off, a bemused expression on her face as he headed out. Well, she had to pick up her armor from her bedroom anyway, so she'd head after him and pick up her equipment along the way, keeping up with Max fairly well, treating it as a casual jog.

"You know, alien is a rather poor term to use. Anyone is an alien with the proper mindset. I find it... irritatingly vague and non-specific, too broad." She said, keeping an eye on the rooms as they passed them. Nowhere near hers yet, she figured. "Proper term is Crysal Iracuse." The Arkadacian huffed out. "What is your name? Unless you'd like me to call you mutt so we can keep the vague names for one another consistent."

Oh hell no! This freak did not just call me that! Max's eye twitched in irritation and despite his efforts to maintain, the anthro let his leg slip back and swing, almost knocking Crysal in the knee. "I am no mutt, nor am I a dog! You understand! To even categorize me as such I must be one, but considering I am not a beast that walks on four legs and that follows a higher level of mental processing, makes that statement false. If I ever hear you call me that, i'll break you like any other experimental I deal with, tall or not all fall the same." His condescending attitude mixed with the disdainful lecture he gave to her only furthered his reason to keep an eye on her.

A moment passed and Max regained himself enough. "Now then If you must know who I am, I am Maximum Security XXIII. I am a guard who protects H.V.P.s and kills off anything that would harm them. And alien is not a poor choice, but a more correct because you are not of my race or anything looking closely related to human or possibly have a shred of human DNA in you from the start. Therefore you are alien until further results prove otherwise, Ms. Iracuse. Tell me more about you since I told you about me."

  • INTP
  • All American Patriotic Constitutionalist/Classic libertarian (with fiscal conservatism)
  • Religiously Tolerant
  • Roman Catholic
  • Hoplophilic/ammosexual
  • X=3.13, Y=2.41
  • Supports the Blue


I support Capitalism do you? If so, put this in your sig.

XY = Male, XX = Female

User avatar
Germanic Templars
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20393
Founded: Jul 01, 2011
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Germanic Templars » Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:52 pm

The BranRiech wrote:Actual Drova

"Ah!"

He shot up, chest beating heavily, the rise and fall of the Prince's shirt harried at best. He hopped out of bed, and looked over at the mirror. It had remained broken, of course. The goblet he threw was still lying on the floor, and Yuna was still nowhere to be found.

"Rouse! Rouse!"

His ears picked up the heavily-accented voice instantly, running past his door. The Prince, fearing the worst, such as when the elevator crashed, leapt into action. His eyes narrowed, and as shitty as he felt, he still had a sense of duty about him. His sword had laid unused for the better part of . . . Well, most of his life. He'd never actually used it before, besides for ceremonial duties.

Whether he was ready for it or not, the sword finally found it's home on Drova's waist, as the Prince exited into the hall. His face was calm, but it was just the opposite of what he looked like. Anyone could tell he was nervous, but about what? One would need to press the young man for answers, answers he wasn't willing to give.

He stopped at a nearby door though, and knocked. He really, really didn't want to be around anyone, but knocking on Thriller's door was the only way he thought he could find out what the voice was.


A door flung open as a robot with a teal blue cyclops eye walked out with a pistol matching the its color. The robot looked down the hall towards Thriller's room to see a winged blue skinned person standing by the emperor's door. "If you are lookin' for the emperor, he is possibly in the room righ' there with the door cracked open. Last I heard he was in there." The robot's British accent seemed clear and not digital like a cheap model machine.

Wanting to not to be part of anything after that, the machine headed to and down the stairs.

  • INTP
  • All American Patriotic Constitutionalist/Classic libertarian (with fiscal conservatism)
  • Religiously Tolerant
  • Roman Catholic
  • Hoplophilic/ammosexual
  • X=3.13, Y=2.41
  • Supports the Blue


I support Capitalism do you? If so, put this in your sig.

XY = Male, XX = Female

User avatar
New Aksarben
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12311
Founded: Oct 08, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby New Aksarben » Thu Jan 21, 2016 10:55 pm

"Oh, thank you! I keep hearing about something approaching but I'm too far away to see at all." The pony huffed, glad he hadn't been in the way of the two brutish strange looking humanoids who'd barged their way to the front of the group. The pony nervously dug at the floor, and his tail flicked back and forth in an agitated manner. He adjusted his glasses with a bit of magic before he looked over at Dan and smiled weakly. Sterling gulped down a bit of his nervousness before he continued.

"Its not going to be a fight is it? I'm no good at fighting! There is a place to go and hide if things turn to a fight right? It'd be nice to know that before well, bad things happen. I hope Willow's gotten to safety, wherever he is..." Sterling trailed off, looking back down at the ground as he thought about his still absent friend.


The jedi huffed as he got pushed out of the way by what seemed to be near-human aliens. There were other non-human races here too? This was a strange place indeed. But those looked like no race he'd seen before, with their strong looking bodies and wrinkly foreheads. Either way, he could ask just what they were later. Right now the small Jedi was trying to peer past arms and bodies to see if he could see out of the door. HE also wondered if they'd need negotiators, as despite his terrible grammar in basic, he definitely could help that with a bit of mental persuasion through the force. But for now he kept himself quiet, his unignighted lightsaber in his hand and ready at a moment's notice.
Happiness is when
what you think,
what you say,
and what you
do are in harmony.
-Gandhi
Official Squirrel of PL

Agnostic
Democratic Socialist
Comp Sci Major
History Enthusiast
Amateur Artist - My Art!
Nonbinary/Genderqueer
Gay
Wragon Furry
Brony

User avatar
The BranRiech
Post Czar
 
Posts: 31391
Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Fri Jan 22, 2016 5:14 am

Germanic Templars wrote:A door flung open as a robot with a teal blue cyclops eye walked out with a pistol matching the its color. The robot looked down the hall towards Thriller's room to see a winged blue skinned person standing by the emperor's door. "If you are lookin' for the emperor, he is possibly in the room righ' there with the door cracked open. Last I heard he was in there." The robot's British accent seemed clear and not digital like a cheap model machine.

Wanting to not to be part of anything after that, the machine headed to and down the stairs.

Drova made some sort of rude gesture to the robot, spitting in it's direction as it left down the stairs off to the side. His head shook in defeat. These machines were everywhere, weren't they? How many people were using the unemotional sods for security now? Drova had gone months, almost a year or two, without having to deal with a single machine that spoke, and now they were coming out of the woodwork, and generally being assholes about it.

"Hello?"

His voice was raspy, like sandpaper grinding on wood, but it was just an unfortunate consequence of waking up on the wrong side of the bed. He rolled his eyes, berating himself for how bad he must have sounded as he walked inside, knocking on, yet again, another door. "Did you hear that noise, hello?"

User avatar
TotallyNotEvilLand
Senator
 
Posts: 3570
Founded: May 29, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby TotallyNotEvilLand » Fri Jan 22, 2016 11:53 am

Germanic Templars wrote:
TotallyNotEvilLand wrote:She had always hated meeting new people. Without exception, the first encounter always involved them trying to figure out what she was, though their reactions often varied. Thankfully, if this one immediately had a thought of disgust, he kept it hidden well. She hadn't made too many assumptions regarding the canine's origins. Likely just a standard human animal hybrid that spawned from some quirk of the universe, much like most of the non-human species she'd encountered. Scientific or magical origins never crossed her mind.

Crysal watched the talking German Shepherd run off, a bemused expression on her face as he headed out. Well, she had to pick up her armor from her bedroom anyway, so she'd head after him and pick up her equipment along the way, keeping up with Max fairly well, treating it as a casual jog.

"You know, alien is a rather poor term to use. Anyone is an alien with the proper mindset. I find it... irritatingly vague and non-specific, too broad." She said, keeping an eye on the rooms as they passed them. Nowhere near hers yet, she figured. "Proper term is Crysal Iracuse." The Arkadacian huffed out. "What is your name? Unless you'd like me to call you mutt so we can keep the vague names for one another consistent."

Oh hell no! This freak did not just call me that! Max's eye twitched in irritation and despite his efforts to maintain, the anthro let his leg slip back and swing, almost knocking Crysal in the knee. "I am no mutt, nor am I a dog! You understand! To even categorize me as such I must be one, but considering I am not a beast that walks on four legs and that follows a higher level of mental processing, makes that statement false. If I ever hear you call me that, i'll break you like any other experimental I deal with, tall or not all fall the same." His condescending attitude mixed with the disdainful lecture he gave to her only furthered his reason to keep an eye on her.

A moment passed and Max regained himself enough. "Now then If you must know who I am, I am Maximum Security XXIII. I am a guard who protects H.V.P.s and kills off anything that would harm them. And alien is not a poor choice, but a more correct because you are not of my race or anything looking closely related to human or possibly have a shred of human DNA in you from the start. Therefore you are alien until further results prove otherwise, Ms. Iracuse. Tell me more about you since I told you about me."

Crysal had slowed down her pace after her remark, figuring he might attempt to whack at her. He didn't seem like the most pleasant type... one of those dreadful, serious servants to some political figure types, she reasoned. "Ah, you're a feisty one. I rather like that." - in a pet, she finished in her head, resisting the urge to keep egging him on. They were en route to something important, after all.

"I'd take you for an action star with a name like that. 'Maximum Security Twenty-Three: This Time It's Serious'." She snorted, letting that poor one-liner slip through as she stopped lagging behind, and ran alongside him. "So sort of like a secret service type, yes? Any good leader's got to have one, I suppose." Crysal cleared her throat. Was she really getting this out of shape?

"Fair enough... I'm a lot of things, but I'll give you the basics. I find history in the making, and I get myself involved. About ten thousand years of life means that ordinary hobbies become droll and repetitive after all that time, but changing the lives of others, for better or worse? Never gets old. I'd reckon I changed the outcome of all of human history a few times during the stone age, though there's no way to prove it." She paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. "Or did you mean my species? Because I honestly have no idea where we came from either, at least from a scientific viewpoint."
Liquid Wallaby Characters, Updated 4/27 (Rough sketches for Creezul and Kehelli are completed)
If you use the term SJW or 'politically correct' to describe anyone left of center, I'm pretty sure that destroys all of your credibility as an intelligent human being. Quit being a twit and use something other than a buzzword to make your point.
A Moderately-Talented But Very Unreliable Roleplayer
Current flag is Frisk's Unamused Face

User avatar
Germanic Templars
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 20393
Founded: Jul 01, 2011
Capitalist Paradise

Postby Germanic Templars » Fri Jan 22, 2016 1:38 pm

The BranRiech wrote:
Germanic Templars wrote:A door flung open as a robot with a teal blue cyclops eye walked out with a pistol matching the its color. The robot looked down the hall towards Thriller's room to see a winged blue skinned person standing by the emperor's door. "If you are lookin' for the emperor, he is possibly in the room righ' there with the door cracked open. Last I heard he was in there." The robot's British accent seemed clear and not digital like a cheap model machine.

Wanting to not to be part of anything after that, the machine headed to and down the stairs.

Drova made some sort of rude gesture to the robot, spitting in it's direction as it left down the stairs off to the side. His head shook in defeat. These machines were everywhere, weren't they? How many people were using the unemotional sods for security now? Drova had gone months, almost a year or two, without having to deal with a single machine that spoke, and now they were coming out of the woodwork, and generally being assholes about it.

"Hello?"

His voice was raspy, like sandpaper grinding on wood, but it was just an unfortunate consequence of waking up on the wrong side of the bed. He rolled his eyes, berating himself for how bad he must have sounded as he walked inside, knocking on, yet again, another door. "Did you hear that noise, hello?"


Only minutes have passed before he heard knocking at the door.Can't a man find some peace and quiet? He thought as he tried to go back to sleep, however, sleep would not be with him for now since Drova was outside the children's play room. Not getting rid of him. I guess all I can do is embrace the suck.

"The door is opened, come on in." He muttered as he sat up on the counter. A long, drawn out yawn escaped him as he stretched out his arms.

TotallyNotEvilLand wrote:Crysal had slowed down her pace after her remark, figuring he might attempt to whack at her. He didn't seem like the most pleasant type... one of those dreadful, serious servants to some political figure types, she reasoned. "Ah, you're a feisty one. I rather like that." - in a pet, she finished in her head, resisting the urge to keep egging him on. They were en route to something important, after all.

"I'd take you for an action star with a name like that. 'Maximum Security Twenty-Three: This Time It's Serious'." She snorted, letting that poor one-liner slip through as she stopped lagging behind, and ran alongside him. "So sort of like a secret service type, yes? Any good leader's got to have one, I suppose." Crysal cleared her throat. Was she really getting this out of shape?

"Fair enough... I'm a lot of things, but I'll give you the basics. I find history in the making, and I get myself involved. About ten thousand years of life means that ordinary hobbies become droll and repetitive after all that time, but changing the lives of others, for better or worse? Never gets old. I'd reckon I changed the outcome of all of human history a few times during the stone age, though there's no way to prove it." She paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. "Or did you mean my species? Because I honestly have no idea where we came from either, at least from a scientific viewpoint."


"Only thing secret is my training I went through since I was born and the experiments. Aside from that, nothing else is, and I do not protect the emperor personally." Max pointed out.

Running down the stairs past the two was Dr. Smith, ready with a pistol."Get ready, Max, we got company. And don't worry emperor told you to get your armor and follow me." Dr. Smith remarked. The cyborg chambered around as he headed down the last flight of stairs readying up in the lobby.

"I protect people like him. Scientists, doctors. People who do research. What they research is not my concern, until it tries to kill them." Max pointed out. Crysal's one-liner was less than humorous to Max, as his ear twitched. "And I do not know much about movies, only heard about them, like motion picture or something is what they call them."

Her lack of origins and her age concerned Max. His suspicion on her being a "meta" with special abilities made him want to keep an eye on her.

Max looked up the stairs to see how far on progress they were making. "Dammit, only fourth floor. Can't this place have an elevator or something?"

  • INTP
  • All American Patriotic Constitutionalist/Classic libertarian (with fiscal conservatism)
  • Religiously Tolerant
  • Roman Catholic
  • Hoplophilic/ammosexual
  • X=3.13, Y=2.41
  • Supports the Blue


I support Capitalism do you? If so, put this in your sig.

XY = Male, XX = Female

User avatar
TotallyNotEvilLand
Senator
 
Posts: 3570
Founded: May 29, 2012
Ex-Nation

Postby TotallyNotEvilLand » Fri Jan 22, 2016 2:33 pm

Germanic Templars wrote:
"Only thing secret is my training I went through since I was born and the experiments. Aside from that, nothing else is, and I do not protect the emperor personally." Max pointed out.

Running down the stairs past the two was Dr. Smith, ready with a pistol."Get ready, Max, we got company. And don't worry emperor told you to get your armor and follow me." Dr. Smith remarked. The cyborg chambered around as he headed down the last flight of stairs readying up in the lobby.

"I protect people like him. Scientists, doctors. People who do research. What they research is not my concern, until it tries to kill them." Max pointed out. Crysal's one-liner was less than humorous to Max, as his ear twitched. "And I do not know much about movies, only heard about them, like motion picture or something is what they call them."

Her lack of origins and her age concerned Max. His suspicion on her being a "meta" with special abilities made him want to keep an eye on her.

Max looked up the stairs to see how far on progress they were making. "Dammit, only fourth floor. Can't this place have an elevator or something?"

"I almost envy you, then. Training AND experimentation? I swear, the warriors of today are spoiled." She said, in the same tone one would take if they were complaining about teenagers and their social media. As per usual, it was hard to tell if she was making a crack at him or just a simple observation.

Crysal took some time to look over the Doctor, examining him, mostly. Once she heard what his association with Max was, it made a bit more sense. Resuming their run through the apartments, Crysal cleared her throat yet again, and continued the conversation. "Not really the type to question orders, eh? There's... something to be admired about that trait, I suppose." She muttered, as they made their way up the stairs. "I think we have much more pressing matters than making this place handicap accessible at the moment. Once we can stop worrying about constant attack, maybe then we can turn our sights to elevators."

Perhaps it'd be a good idea to talk tactics, seeing as they may be fighting alongside each other sooner or later. This new realm wasn't friendly in the slightest. Like the first city surrounded by untamed wilderness, always under constant attack from 'savages'. It was a narrative she was used to, preferred. Could always paint oneself as the hero that way. "So, I take it you're more of a firearms user? You don't strike me as much of a dyn cryf." She paused for effect. "No offense."
Liquid Wallaby Characters, Updated 4/27 (Rough sketches for Creezul and Kehelli are completed)
If you use the term SJW or 'politically correct' to describe anyone left of center, I'm pretty sure that destroys all of your credibility as an intelligent human being. Quit being a twit and use something other than a buzzword to make your point.
A Moderately-Talented But Very Unreliable Roleplayer
Current flag is Frisk's Unamused Face

User avatar
The BranRiech
Post Czar
 
Posts: 31391
Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Fri Jan 22, 2016 3:12 pm

Drova's wings twitched, the thought of popping in unannounced like he was was staggering. Was he not in the right mind? His thoughts remained private as he poked through the door. "Did you hear the shouting?" He asked rather directly, his voice regaining some of the smoothness to it. Come to think of it, Drova's voice was always rather smooth. If he was in a choir, the boy could easily sing tenor with no problem, and (If Drova were to wager), he'd be able to sing quite well if he put the effort in.

Besides the point, the Pyersai Prince ducked into the play-room, considering he had been invited by then, Thriller's tired ramblings allowing the Prince no qualms about bursting in uninvited. "Someone ran through the halls, shouting "Rouse! Rouse!" He tried copying the German accent.

His hands were idle for the moment, but not long as he stood in the doorway, one hand gripped on the handle of his sword, and the other clearing a strand or two of hair from his vision. He'd done it so much, that the motion was second-nature to him by then. He cursed his culture's acceptance of long-hair, for that one reason enough that one of the most-performed actions was the keeping of one's hair.

"I was wondering if you'd heard it, and came in to ask." Drova said, pointing back towards the hallway.

Was this the first time he'd failed to introduce himself? He figured he'd rather stick with the tradition, considering how awkward he felt in his current situation.

User avatar
Northwest Slobovia
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 11834
Founded: Sep 16, 2006
Anarchy

Postby Northwest Slobovia » Fri Jan 22, 2016 4:15 pm

Sandy turned towards the window and muttered the words to the Eyes of the Wolf. He pressed his nose up against the glass and cupped his hands around his eyes, seeking details of the approaching creatures and their numbers.

Amanda briefly stared up at the large... Klingon? Next Gen Klingon? ... next to her who had forced his way to the front of the crowd. Well, why not a Klingon? They're good soldiers, aren't they? If she understood the two Germans correctly, they might be able to talk to whatever was paying them a late night visit.

Even standing on tip-toe again, there were enough people gathered now that she wasn't able to see who she wanted. So instead, she addressed her husband's back. "Sandy dear, could you check to see if either Minerva or Septimus are here?"

Sandy turned away from the window, blinking twice as the Eyes of the Wolf swiftly shrank his unusually dilated pupils to adjust to the lobby's brightness. He scanned the crowd, and not seeing either the redhead or the cyborg, shook his head and returned to studying the ogres outside the window.

Amanda faced the rest of the group and readied her best addressing a crowd voice, not that she had much of one. Hopefully, she'd be heard in the back. "Since our leaders don't seem to be here yet, let me make a suggestion. We might be able to communicate with a group of creatures coming towards the Building. We could send out our own group to talk to them, to see what they want. They'll need escorts -- people with weapons or spells -- in case that doesn't go well. And another group should prepare to defend the Building. In the worst case, our attempt to talk to whoever's outside will buy them some time to get organized. Does that work for everybody?"

She thought she was done, but then remembered something important. "Oh, and we brought back a lot of ammunition from Ascalon along with a pair of heavy machine guns. So, if you need more ammo or if you're a trained machine-gunner, please come up here and talk to General Aphrodesiac or myself, so we can show you where everything is." She cocked her head in Romulus' direction to indicate that he was the general she meant.
Last edited by Northwest Slobovia on Fri Jan 22, 2016 4:51 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Gollum died for your sins.
Power is an equal-opportunity corrupter.

User avatar
The BranRiech
Post Czar
 
Posts: 31391
Founded: Mar 24, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby The BranRiech » Fri Jan 22, 2016 4:20 pm

"Aye."

Bran said, his heavy accent making it sound a little more like someone butchering an Australian accent, translated from Russian. He didn't quite know the Belas, in fact, he didn't remember them all too much. Id he'd been introduced to them at some point, he'd certainly forgotten. People seemed to come and go all the time from the apartment, and almost no one Bran knew from his first days of the apartment were still around.

Swith, Bones, Naomi, Dabfia, and uncountable amounts of other people he'd considered friends were either dead, or had moved on from the zany, and sometimes mildly depressing life. He figured Sandy and Amanda were no different as he stepped forward.

"Might not be able to communicate with them, but I can protect those that want to try." He offered, stepping his way around the two Klingons, paying them no mind as he approached the married couple.

User avatar
Primordial Luxa
Postmaster-General
 
Posts: 12092
Founded: Oct 30, 2012
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Primordial Luxa » Fri Jan 22, 2016 4:44 pm

Lobby
“Ogre’s” Primordial said to the curious Nifid and the inquisitive guild members grinning while taking another swig of his strange alien wine. “Either that or very bloated trolls, hard to tell in the dark and without a proper dissection. They don’t seem to approaching just yet, they're kinda milling around the perimeter. Lets all hope that they’re just passing through, but best to prepare in case they're not.”

Primordial took another caution look back through the window, parting the curtain on the other half of the lobby with the intent of only glancing outside with one eye. His face had a tension to it as one eye closed to grant the other better focus from the rest of his brain and the thought the mechanical process behind this action flashed through his mind momentarily. As he gazed outside he tried to trace familiar tracks on the ground with his eyes looking for all those little changes in geography that would be present if he was forced to start moving rapidly towards the forest line or away from it.

Finally he stopped looking outside and glance back towards the gathering of people who had amassed in the lobby, it was a typical collage of strange people from all over the multiverse each more powerful and prequalify than the last. With a confident tone that seemed to stem out of his jovial attitude he smiled at Amanda "Sounds like a good idea to me. I'll volunteer to go out and extend some friendly initiative towards them if anyone wants to join me."
Last edited by Primordial Luxa on Fri Jan 22, 2016 5:15 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Swith Witherward wrote:But I trust the people here. Well, except Prim. He has shifty eyes but his cute smile make up for it.

Monfrox wrote:But it's not like we've known Prim to really stick with normality...

P2TM wrote:HORROR/THRILLER Winner - Community Choice Award For Favorite Horror/Thriller Player: Primordial Luxa


Factbook (underconstruction)
Personification Life and GAU Posts
Luxan Imperial Narcotics (The ONLY narcotics store on GE&T)

User avatar
Highfort
Minister
 
Posts: 2869
Founded: May 11, 2014
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Highfort » Fri Jan 22, 2016 4:51 pm

"Paramilitary?" Opa's glowing ocular bit blinked for a second, before his processor concluded that Amanda had no knowledge of the Confederation and thus would be unfamiliar with him and his paint scheme, "No. Sister Bela. I am Confederation. Vigilante Riot. Squad. My unit is. The 301st. Vigiles Urbani. Operator is. Sister Damia. Gull."

Recording Macy's greeting and filing her away as part of his assessment, Opa remained silent throughout the exchange. His first evaluation of these individuals shifted. The variety in races as well as the upscale appearance of the Bela apartment as compared with the hallways didn't add up. This looked more like a hotel-embassy near an opulent spaceport, not a backwater tenement in the middle of an unknown planet. Just how far had he gone from Confederation space that none of these individuals would be showing up on existing Vigilante records?

Mention of this being the private dimension of a certain Brother Demens agitated Opa's processor. Private dimensions were no small feat - the Confederation's own Board could barely manage to access other dimensions for colonization let alone materialize their own private one for amusement. Amanda may have just been exaggerating or lying - however, it didn't appear to be logical with introducing someone new to the building.

And, in any case, she didn't seem like the joking type. He would have to ponder this development.

Before he could respond, however, another well-dressed cultist sped down the hall in alarm. The call was not lost on Opa. The Building contained within it Brother Septimus Itum, if Volker's initial comments were correct. That meant it was a VIP location.

He would have to protect it.

Accompanying the group down to the lobby, Opa noted Amanda taking charge of the situation in front of the many strange-looking Residents.

"I am ready. To serve," he shuffled his way to the front of the group, his shield pushing aside various Residents as he attempted to get within range of the only person who looked to be in-charge of the situation.

She reminded him of Sister Gull - decisive, strong, capable.

"Where can I. Be of most. Use. Sister Bela?" he intoned. Warmth projected from his arm as his plasma rifle activated, a soft glow indicating it was ready to fire at a moment's notice.



Septimus emerged to the yelling of Rudolf. Dark circles and bloodshot eyes told Ocho all that he needed to know.

Pushing aside the Thade gently, the cyborg emerged in his robes - though several darkened, discolored splotches indicated he'd thought ahead of the space weasel and had already begun imbibing. His processor, though still-suppressed, moved to push his liver along and filter through most of the toxins as it worked on his brain, doing its best to sober-up the depressed cyborg.

"We can talk later," Septimus gestured at the bottle in Ocho's hand, "Civil servants, you and I. We hear the call and we answer."

As though the explanation excused his disheveled state, Septimus wiped off a bit of drool dried on his chin and made his way downstairs. Clumsy, uneven steps betrayed the fact that his now-organic liver was having trouble fully processing his alcohol intake and his addled brain wasn't fully sober yet. But as he came closer and closer to the Lobby, he could feel his faculties returning.

He could feel the emptiness inside.

Neste was dead. Even the words she'd left to comfort him, next to her little trinkets and valuables, were of little solace. Her life story had only left him weeping that he didn't do more, though he could have - should have.

Her praise for him was as empty as his apartment was. Even Sentia had deserted him, clearly seeking a better master.

He was worthless.

The Representative pushed all this down down to the best of his abilities. The people didn't need to see that he was human, they needed to see that he was unfazed by whatever had hit him. 2,000 years in service to the Confederation had taught him one thing very, very well:

People don't want fallible, weak creatures for leaders. They want supermen of indomitable will.

By the time he descended the final step, Septimus had been replaced with Representative Itum.

"What's the situation, Amanda?" Septimus saw her speaking to the crowd in the lobby and quickly made himself known, shoving past the crowd and then squeezing next to a giant robot - a new Resident, perhaps? No matter, there was a problem that needed to be dealt with first before pleasantries could be exchanged.
Inactive: shoot me a PM if you need anything

User avatar
Mincaldenteans
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 9450
Founded: Feb 17, 2013
Ex-Nation

Postby Mincaldenteans » Fri Jan 22, 2016 6:37 pm

The dark haired human that managed past Mezran's frame earn him a growl from the back and a smirk from Tavana. "Audacious," she commented lightly, wondering what good such a frail looking human would do against beings outside. Ogres, the Klingons had heard, taking in the suggestions and volunteers with assessing eyes.

It was Mezran that grunted out the pair's stance, "We will remain behind. Klingons do not prattle in diplomacy. We will see to a defensive position with those that stay."

Tavana only nodded.

Anais spoke up next, though the murmuring from her guildmates behind her forced her to raise her voice higher than usual, "I volunteer myself for this diplomatic team, the rest will stay behind."

"Not a good idea, I'm coming with," Cherry announced, the ritualist turned her head in surprise. Cherry didn't budge, only crossing her arms and leveling her stare at her best friend.

"And Cherry as well," Anais conceded and looked back to the assembled group. She noted Primordial's eagerness and immediately decided to take her role behind his, no sense arguing who would to share words with a bunch of giants. Continuing, "The rest will stay here in case things go...awry," Anais said as delicately to that as possible.

Ogres in their lands were tough, brutes for the most part and in the worse case capable of magic. It took a team to bring one down and it wasn't unheard of for them to travel in groups. A group was a nightmare for any wanderer or organization. Already the guildmates were discussing among themselves who would be put to what role. Alexia approached the Klingons, talking quickly with Tavana.

"Err, you might want to stay here with us, Sterling. Ogres are serious business. Faerie have quite a few, brutes mostly, and dangerous. Maybe you can help us in the hospital or clinic? We could always use more assistance then less," Dan suggested lightly as the deliberation intensified.

Hunter had other ideas and moved from them to where Sandy and Amanda were at, he caught words of ammo and could only assume one of them had conventional weapons or access to it. "Don't suppose one of you have a rifle I could borrow? I'd join the defensive team, or help in the clinic but my aid in medicine is less than rudimentary."
P2TM RP Mentor: Have a question on RP'ing? Feel free to TG me!
PL: Demens Chosenadhouse
P2TM Info DepotTraveler's CafeP2TM Chat Thread
☼ I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith ☼

PreviousNext

Advertisement

Remove ads

Return to Portal to the Multiverse

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Arengin Union, Pasong Tirad, Shahinay, Zaporizhian Host, Zharkova

Advertisement

Remove ads