Expendable

Reborn in a Fantasy World, This Time I Shall...!

Jase the Assassin

??? — ???

---

There was a cool chill to the air as Jase stirred. A good sign, he thought - he could feel his skin, after the blistering wave of heat that flashed through the length of the cabin. His flesh must not have melted, despite what he felt.

His skin was dry - so he wasn't floating in a tank of saline. Nor did he feel like he was floating on air, another treatment for burn victims. No tubes running down his throat. While he heard an occasional "plop", it wasn't an electronic beep of an EKG machine. More like a drop hitting a still surface of water.

Jase's hand rubbed across the ground, feeling the grass. Was he lying on an airport island, a grassy spot between the runways? But why didn't he hear any sounds like airplanes taking off? No murmur of people, the swalk of radios, no rumbling of engines. So did he survive and land in someone's yard?

If so, why didn't he hurt?

Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes, then used his hands to push himself upright.

He was in a cave, lit by a faint light coming from the moss that grew around them. Nor was he alone, there were three others beside him, dressed oddly, like they were going to a renaissance fair.

He froze, raising his hand in front of him. His hand... looked young. No crepe skin, no callouses... He had some muscle, but his skin was soft. And so was his face, no roughness of stubble, it was as smooth as a baby's bottom.

And his clothes - this was not the suit he wore on the plane. He was wearing some sort of peasant shirt with a leather jerkin, a wide belt, short pants, and moccasins. A sheathed knife was hanging from his belt.

Another drop fell into the pool, Jase turning instinctively in its direction. Rising to his feet, he quietly walked to the water's edge, and stared down at a strange, youthful face.

"Oh my god," he swore, wincing at the soft and utterly unfamiliar young voice he heard, "I'm a girl...! No....!"

His hand plunged into his pants, and he sagged with relief. Still a man... but what was wrong with his ears? They curved upwards into a soft point, like that science officer from Star Trek. What was this, some sort of twisted LSD flashback from the drops his mom put into his bottle to settle him? Or was this some sort of twisted joke?

Cupping his hands, he put them into the water, then took a cautious sip. It was sweet and cold. Carefully, Jase rose to his feet, then crossed back to patch of grass where his companions still slept, and splashed his handful of water on their faces. "Wake up!"

@Crusader Lord@Thunder999999@Crimson Paladin

Reborn in a Fantasy World, This Time I Shall...!

Jase

Name: Jason "Jase" Stone
Age: Biologic 19 / Mental: 63
Gender: Male
Race: Half-Elf
Appearance: This androgynous young man puts you in mind of a clever fox. He has round gray eyes that are like two silver coins. His thick, curly, dark hair is closed cropped. He has a graceful build. His skin is lightly tanned. He has nearly-nonexistent eyebrows, no beard (alopecia barbae), and narrow feet. His wardrobe is plain, and mostly dark colors.

Personality: Jase is reserved, his mind logical and organized, but he can be tactless - in his line of work, encounters with others tend to be very brief. Seldom seen without a book - they help occupy his mind while on stakeouts as it could be days before a target appears.

Tends to be suspicious of others, his mind constantly on tactical alert, quietly observing everything that takes place around him. It was better to plan, in his view, than to depend on capricious luck.

History:
Grew up in the suburbs, an only child with few friends. He did very well in school, then unexpectly vanished after graduation to join the Army. A psychological examination in boot camp suggested a bit of moral flexability, and he found himself being trained as a sniper. He was loaned out to the CIA for wetwork, but returned to the service after an executive order banned government agencies from peforming them.

After leaving the service, he got approached by the Organization for some free-lance work, it took him all over the world, provided a lot of free time, and paid very well. As far as the moral aspects, he sometimes describes it as, "If I show up at your door, odds are you did something to bring me there."

Eventually, he decided it was time to retire and communicated that to the Organization, who begged him to perform one last job before he left, and to show the ropes to a newcomer. She was young and brash, and had a few skills, but he suspected she might have gotten orders to kill him. They got the job done - but received an unexpected drone attack, which they narrowly escaped. The Organization claimed to be surprised, and they both boarded the fight home - only for the plane to explode in mid-flight.

Level: 1

Stats

• STR: 2
• DEX: 2
• MAG: 1
• DEF: 2
• RES: 2
• AGI: 2
• LCK: 1

Skills
Skill Name: Knife fighting
Skill Description: the effective ability to use and throw a knife in melee combat.
Other: He's very well-read.

Reborn in a Fantasy World, This Time I Shall...!

Jase

Name: Jason "Jase" Stone
Age: Biologic 19 / Mental: 63
Gender: Male
Race: Half-Elf
Appearance: This androgynous young man puts you in mind of a clever fox. He has round gray eyes that are like two silver coins. His thick, curly, dark hair is closed cropped. He has a graceful build. His skin is lightly tanned. He has nearly-nonexistent eyebrows, no beard (alopecia barbae), and narrow feet. His wardrobe is plain, and mostly dark colors.

Personality: Jase is reserved, his mind logical and organized, but he can be tactless - in his line of work, encounters with others tend to be very brief. Seldom seen without a book - they help occupy his mind while on stakeouts as it could be days before a target appears.

Tends to be suspicious of others, his mind constantly on tactical alert, quietly observing everything that takes place around him. It was better to plan, in his view, than to depend on capricious luck.

History:
Grew up in the suburbs, an only child with few friends. He did very well in school, then unexpectly vanished after graduation to join the Army. A psychological examination in boot camp suggested a bit of moral flexability, and he found himself being trained as a sniper. He was loaned out to the CIA for wetwork, but returned to the service after an executive order banned government agencies from peforming them.

After leaving the service, he got approached by the Organization for some free-lance work, it took him all over the world, provided a lot of free time, and paid very well. As far as the moral aspects, he sometimes describes it as, "If I show up at your door, odds are you did something to bring me there."

Eventually, he decided it was time to retire and communicated that to the Organization, who begged him to perform one last job before he left, and to show the ropes to a newcomer. She was young and brash, and had a few skills, but he suspected she might have gotten orders to kill him. They got the job done - but received an unexpected drone attack, which they narrowly escaped. The Organization claimed to be surprised, and they both boarded the fight home - only for the plane to explode in mid-flight.

Level: 1

Stats

• STR: 2
• DEX: 2
• MAG: 1
• DEF: 2
• RES: 2
• AGI: 2
• LCK: 1

Skills
Skill Name: Knife fighting
Skill Description: the effective ability to use and throw a knife in melee combat.
Other: He's very well-read.

Reborn in a Fantasy World, This Time I Shall...! (Interest Check)

Color me as interested, as well.

Did he just stop at one plane wreck, or others as well? If it's just the one, what was the flight's origin and destination?

OUTLAW SPACE

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

J'eon the Blacksmith

---

"I follow!" J'eon cried out. The force mage was in the middle of this, using his wind to part the blacksmith's flames. He needed to do something to break his concentration - and smiled. Maybe a human tactic would work, here? Focusing his attention on the mage's hooves, he called forth the flame, setting the ground beneath him aflame.

---

Jack Mallory

---

And then Eva arrived, her suit shoving the nearest threatening rocky arm - but it was dragging the bridge with it.

”We must move, jump from piece to piece if you must, but the bridge will collapse soon!” Shirik yelled.

"Go!" Jack said, waving towards the end of the bridge, feeling the Glen tense his body as it lept forward, bounding to the next bit as a wave of heat from Shirik washed over them as the mage did something.

"Next time, bring more suits!" Jack muttered to himself as the Glen made the next jump, hampered no doubt by the executive officer clinging to his back. As they landed, he spared a glance backward, wanting to see what Shirik and Eva was doing even as the Glen was already tensing up for the next leap and possible escape.

A part of him, detatched, wondered who or what was behind this - this was a coordinated attack, but was it aimed at Silbermine, or them?

One does not simply introduce himself to the Guild... right?

Greetings and salutations. Hope you enjoy your time here.

Caravan: An Episodic Fantasy with Worldbuilding! [Always Accepting]

Granny Siri

---

"Right," Granny Siri said with a satisfied sigh, slipping into the relaxed talk of her childfood. "We just have ta...."

Pilot and the tent were suddenly gone, and the priestess found herself wrapped in fog.

"SIRI...RI..Ri..ri," a deep booming voice echoed. "I..i..aye! OW! Hey! Stop that!"

Her hand emerged from a thick patch of fog tightly pulling on a struggling ear
"Stop it or ya'll be 'One Ear' for da rest of yer miserable life," she warned sourly. "Show da rest of yerself."
"Okay! Okay! Just ease off, okay?"

The fog in front of her faded away, revealing a man dressed like one of the Wanderer priests. He stared at her, then lifted his hand to point at the ear she still had clutched tightly in her hand.

"Ah, right," Siri scowled, releasing him. His hand immediately started rubbing his tortured flesh.
"Was that necessary?" he demanded.
"I don't like surprises."
"I can tell," he scowls.

"Well?" Siri demanded after a moment.
"Well, what?"
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Oh! There's something I need you to do in town."
"I'm getting ready for evening services," Siri protested.
"It's just past noon," he shrugs. "Plenty of time (I think)."

"Huh? Did you...?"
"Did I what?"
"I.... What is it you want me to do?"
"Yes! There's a woman in town named Eriwyn. I need you to go and help her."
"You want me to help her?"

"Is that so hard to understand?" he frowned, staring down at his palms curiously. "Did I change frequencies?"
"What?"
"Oh," he says, waving his right hand dismissively. "Not important. Or did I miss something?"
"Why me?"
"Oh! It's a favor for a friend."
"Last time I was here, a couple of the local Dinnin turned into frogs...."
"Yes!" the man replied with a nod, raising his index finger to point upward, then shook his head. "Let's not do that again, okay?"
"I didn't do that," Siri protested.
"Sorry, I.... wasn't talking to you."

Siri could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rising. There were others in this fog, watching them. One of them was breathing hot on the back of her neck. It'd had been years since she felt the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, but it was back. She didn't like it.

"So... I'm just supposed ta help this woman...?"
"Eriwyn."
"And there's nothing else...?" Siri asked.
"No goat!" he begged suddenly. "Every time I show myself, suddenly you mortals are sacrificing goats left and right. How many uses could I possibly have for a dead goat, I ask you?"

A mummer ran around them in the fog.

"Ah - no goats, I got it."
"Bit of cheese would be nice. Some cookies? Oh, and some coffee beans, we've been without for a while."
"Coffee... beans?"
"If you would be so kind, yes," he nodded.
"Ah, so how...?"
"Just put it on your altar and say a prayer," he smiles. "No rush. Sometime this week, after all the fuss ends."
"O...kay," she drawls. "So how do I find this Erywhen...?"

There was a sudden sharp pain in her head, already fading, but Siri suddenly knew exactly where Eriwyn was.

"Well, best let you get on with it."

Pilot blinked at Siri worriedly as she uncovered her face.

"That was weird," she muttered, reaching into the altar to pull out a satchel that she draped over her shoulder. "I'm going out. Mind the tent."

---

Ilyana the Half-Human

---

The centaur's friend he called 'Little S'uat' was a tall, massive being dressed in concealing armor with a massive sword on his(?) back, moving around like it was a spring morning in some cool forest glen. A tiny crossbow hung from their belt. When they had come up with him, he was doing something with a string and a piece of fruit...

Clearly, an assassin. People were rippling around the walking suit of armor as if they were trying to avoid him(?) without looking at him(?). Pity, they weren't showing her the same consideration. A few glances she did catch were either slightly worried or slightly curious...?

"The market is this way," S'uat pointed. His(?) voice had a weird, echoing buzz, like it was bouncing around his helmet and through a bee hive before finally escaping.

"Wait, did you hear something?" Ilyana said, her ear twitching as she turns towards an alley where Eriwyn was coming to, then pushed her way through the crowd that just parted for the assassin."Over here."

The half-human knelt down by the woman, taking in her condition. "Are you okay?"

Several Plot Ideas

Oh that does sound interesting. Do you have any thread made for this yet? I would be into it.

@Czelsc

Sorry, I got busy and didn't check this thread. I haven't started a thread yet. I'll see about getting this up this weekend.

Several Plot Ideas

Well, I have this group rp I was thinking of running that includes a few of these elements.

The Zodiac Interstellar cruise ship Scorpio is leaving a human colony world, carrying tourists, spies, ambassadors, archeologists, military personnel traveling on orders, honeymooners, etc. It's one of twelve ships on this circuit.

There is a reluctant unkillable assassin - it's said he's died a few times, only to pop up unexpectedly to kill whoever killed him. Nobody knows why he's on board the Scorpio.

There's a security detail guarding one of the cabins - nobody knows who's inside.

And then there's a girl who looks human but isn't (two hearts). She can't speak, she has no memories, and doesn't appear in any identity database. And despite top-notch security, nobody knows just how she got on board.

One of the stops is an alien refugee colony, stranded during a decade long war until rediscovered by the first humans to make it out that far. Oddly enough, they have a statue of a human next to a canal that he led the construction on, years before the colony was discovered.