Vertigo

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Planning on a Grave Cleric Goblin atm, just need to do a few posts first and read through all the faction info more thoroughly, definitely want to get in on all that.

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

It... it says "Apply", so there's still... room?

SPIRITUM

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Kalina had a point, Silje realized, much to her shock and dismay. The clothes she was wearing now, ill-fitting and dirty, would hardly impress anyone! She'd heard uniforms were a big deal before, too; as in, some people had a thing for them. Whatever thing meant.

Had she packed her uniform? Did she still have time to change? An unfamiliar yelp from the back — where Silje had left all her stuff — indicated that no, no she did not. The princess must've already been on board.

And so was everyone else, faster than she could blink. Val practically inserted herself into Silje's seat, with no concern for the sacred concept of finders keepers. Or was it first come, first served? Or—

"Whoa!" Kali hit the gas, and Silje had to scramble to glue herself to the side of the truck before they swerved away from the crater and their pursuers — and right into an assault from above. It was heralded by a metallic sound so intense that it seemed to resonate within Silje's very skull, rattling her already unstable mind to a point that teetered on dangerous. Whatever was above them wasn't normal. Wasn't right.

One eye still closed from the throbbing pain, Silje made her way back atop the truck where she usually sat, witnessing from a front row seat how robots rained from the sky. Or from a huge ship in the sky, rather.

Then things went boom, and not by her hand. That was the final straw; if they died here, she'd never win over the princess.

Morden had the right idea, because it was also Silje's idea, and her idea was to retaliate. As Kali hit the gas, Val sped up their vehicle and Morden started shooting the robots before they could catch up, Silje focused her sights on the ship. She held out a hand, gathering mist from the very air that passed through her fingers as they drove faster and faster.

If the ship aimed for them, or if there was to be any more lightning or any of that stuff, she'd counter it with a blast of her own, hopefully moving the resulting explosion mid-air and away from them. Cover fire! Except really very literal.

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

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Before Fellwing noticed it, she was smiling at Garrock's reaction. Careful and a little surprised, but glad her little quip was so well-received nonetheless. It was such a big difference from the way Garrock had acted on the island, really driving home how worried he must've been back then. Who knew, perhaps she and the older drake could get along yet!

... But not well enough for a conversation like this, she thought in horror the second Garrock continued, hinting at an ongoing sorespot between him and his sibling. 'A favor' on its own didn't sound too ominous, but the way Garrock said it, she knew she had to tread carefully so as to not make things worse. There was clearly layers upon layers of hurt to uncover, and Fellwing didn't quite believe she was the right drake to do it. Not unless she wanted to make the older drake privy to some of her own skeletons, at least.

Fellwing fell silent, trying to figure out what to say, how much to reveal, and how many steps was it to the door in case she decided to just— Oh. Skobe?

It was indeed him, quietly observing them from the doorway. Garrock must've not noticed him. Fellwing shifted uncomfortably; if he was here, there was no way she could say anything about her family. Not in front of her clutch. Coaxing anything out of Garrock within earshot of someone else he wasn't aware of would've felt wrong, too.

So she settled to just standing there, awkward and stiff, hoping Garrock would take her silence as her offering respectful condolences in his trying time.

All the while wishing she'd crashed on the flight here.

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

I've been wrecking my brain over what Fellwing would possibly be okay with revealing re: her own family issues, and honestly I probably just need to start writing and see what comes out. Probably something vague, knowing her, so might not help the situation much, but aye. Or maybe she just goes "cool, Skobe you seem to have this covered, bye".

I'll find out in a bit!

Ok we got Fellwing being an awkward-ass potato for 500.

Pokemon: Dream

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_{Abandoned Stellar Toy Co. Factory
@Rune_Alchemist, @XxFellsingxX, @Crusader Lord, @Savo}

No sooner had Chloe spotted a potential exit — above, waiting at the end of a catwalk — when the factory around them suddenly whirred to life. The conveyor belts moved, shutters slammed in front of all their exits, and the air was filled with static, both audible and not. Somewhere, she could swear she heard laughter. But that must've been like, just her imagination, right? Pokémon didn't laugh like that, she was pretty sure.

Snuggles started growling in her arms, struggling until she managed to slip down onto the floor. Sniffing at the air furiously, she tried to find the source of what was going on — and bite it if she could.

Chloe was about to go after her partner, when she felt a jolt of static between her and Jill, the way one could petting a Skitty in winter, except this hurt. She pulled her arm away on instinct. "Ow! What was—"

There was a frizzing sound by her ear, and Chloe froze in shock. She knew what that sound meant, understood the implications even before she saw Jill reach upwards to pat at her own hair. No. No, there was like... no actual way. That wouldn't be fair!

Chloe reached upwards with shaky fingers, combed them through her locks — and screamed. Loud. It echoed off the factory walls, filling the space and drowning out the incessant, buzzing sound of the screens.

"Oh my god, who did this?!" She shouted at the something that must've been watching them, her Pokédex held at ready as if it were a weapon. "Show yourself!"

Symphony on High

💀

20 | Female | Maverick Alternative | So(ME)thing On Your Mind
Kiss & Make Up | Handgun | Physical | We Are But Dust and Shadow
Hellspawn | Streetside Devil
Friends on the Other Side | Shadow | Abyssus Abyssum Invocat
[Obfuscate, Intangible] Damage X (6), Restrain (4), Blink (4), Minor Heal (2), Summon (4), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Homing (2), Avoid (2), AoE (2), Bend (0), Construction (4)

[Gold Spawn][Obfuscate][Summon] = -216

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 1000

PHYSICAL: D | ARCANE: D | CHAOS: E | 784

God, finally. Some action.

Ciri stretched her arms, eyes flicking between the mission briefing on her phone and her quarry across the alley. He'd yet to spot her. She doubted he would anytime soon, too ecstatic to see anything but his... ugh, dinner. Ciri wasn't far enough away to be spared from the smell.

... Yeah, the 'action' was basically just convincing a dumpster diving dragon man he could do better than a rotten, half-eaten McRonald with a side of flies, but it was better than sitting on her ass all day. Now, Ciri wasn't the most diplomatic member of Maverick Alternative, but from what she understood, this mission didn't exactly hinge on diplomacy anyway. Which was why she'd made some preparations ahead of time, as she'd seen the guy occupy himself with the dumpsters. She'd give him a chance to come peacefully — everyone deserved a chance, after all — but if he didn't, her little shadow friend hiding at the entrance of the alley would employ its own method of coercion.

And the best part about today's mission? There wasn't anyone around to criticize her way of doing things. Ever since Maverick Alternative lost a significant amount of its freelance labour, Ciri'd been flying solo more often than not. Yeah, it was boring sometimes, but beat having a pussy-ass freelancer for a partner. Seriously, fuck 'em all. Bunch of flaky cowards, dropping their pants and bending over to whichever direction money happened to flow from.

As for her actual colleagues, well, Ciri figured shit was on fire up top after what'd happened with the Diver, so most of their manpower was elsewhere. They had a lot of new monster recruits, and someone had to train them before they could be sent out on the field, too.

Besides, it wasn't like Ciri was alone. She was never alone. She had her summons, and It was around. It was always around.

Alright, enough bullshit, time to go.

Ciri made sure the shadow creature she'd summoned, molded into the form of a featureless gorilla, was still in position, ready to leap out and block the dragon's path if needed. Meanwhile, she stepped brazenly out of her hiding spot and leaned a shoulder on one of the larger dumpsters.

"So," she called out in what she meant to be a conversational tone, but probably held a little too much of her usual cynicism. "What's a guy like you doing in a dumpster like this?"

Rerun: Blackguards!

You have woken.

... To a familiar scene.

The darkness, the disorientation, the fear. It was all so very familiar, carved so deep into his body it must've been legible on his bones. In his half-conscious state, Wraith was transported back to the past, locked up deep within the confines of the Academy's tall, marble walls, trying to guess at the passage of time.

But as his eyes struggled open, what greeted him weren't the obstructed faces of strangers wrapped in fancy cloaks, uttering words in tongues unknown to him. What he saw, the only thing he saw, was a woman. And she was so much worse than anything that came before her. After all, he'd escaped them. Looking at her, Wraith knew; he would never escape her. The shadows themselves shied away from her, afraid to occupy her space. And where shadows did not go, neither did Wraith.

The assassin knew he'd be unable to move even before he attempted to do so. He gritted his teeth, fighting back the panic that bled into his veins. If there was one thing he hated, it was to be restrained. Held in place. Trapped. His survival hinged on his ability to disappear — or make disappear, as it were. Here, suspended in pure nothingness, he could do neither.

She called for patience, but Wraith's had long since ran out.

The figures around him stirred. Some spoke, most did not. The Warden ignored them all the same.

Sulfrey.

The word hung in the air long after she'd uttered it, floating somewhere just beyond Wraith's reach, taunting him with all it encompassed. Sulfrey, his once-home, now a memory he couldn't outrun. She wanted them to go there? To slay the God-King? Wraith couldn't help but smile despite himself. The only insult greater than killing a nation's king was to kill its God. A prospect not entirely unwelcome to him.

The Warden's words were everywhere. They were the air Wraith breathed, the thoughts in his head, the screams he held back. They were everything. Her voice was terror made manifest, inescapable as time itself. But in all her infinite power, the Warden was wrong about one thing.

You have been chosen, because noone will care if you die..

After all, Wraith cared whether he died. And that was all that mattered. That was what would keep him alive, even if all the rest of the world burnt around him.

Silence descended, and Wraith welcomed its embrace. Silence was respite, it was safety, it was home.

Then that, too, was stripped away.

—

The next Wraith woke, there was no one to tell him he'd done so. There was no need to; once the safety of darkness receded, Wraith's eyes snapped open, his body springing upright before his mind registered it'd done so.

He became aware of the others around him before he became aware of the wind or the grass, always more focused on the living than the not. Especially now; after all, he was surrounded by cutthroats, traitors, beasts and madmen, none of them to be trusted. Some started to exchange pleasantries, some talk strategy, while yet others stood back and merely watched. Wraith was among the latter, taking in each and every one of his 'companions' in turn.

For now, he saw no need to interfere in their budding plans — or aid with them, for that matter. It was better to learn from others' mistakes rather than one's own, after all. So, should a few of them fall from a plan gone awry, the easier it'd be for the rest to avoid a similar fate.

Well, he could offer one thing to his fellow Blackguards. It held no real value to him, anyhow. "Wraith."

And, since he supposed it was obvious enough from looking at him: "I'm quite good at going where I'm not welcome. I cannot guarantee I'm able to help you lot do the same. Some of you are a..." he looked the more conspicuous members of their little troupe up and down. A fox, a walking corpse, a ghost, a giant.

A small, wry smile formed behind his mask — and bled into his voice. "Sight to behold."

Rerun: Blackguards!

Alright, am home, just need to cook dinner and to read up on what I've missed, but going to write afterwards. So post should be up in a few hours.

Edit: done! Not too happy with it, but done is better than perfect (especially at this point). Header is liable to change.

Rerun: Blackguards!

@Vertigo It's been almost two weeks since the game began. I'm going to need your intro before my next update. Can I help you out in any way?

@Red Wizard

Just been unexpectedly busy, had a sudden work deadline and then was away from home, so it's just been lack of time. Man, I wish you could me with that though, you know any programming by any chance? /j

Nah but I will endeavor get a post up tonight when I'm home, even if it's a short one.