BCTheEntity

The Fate of Ward 8: A Tokyo Ghoul RP

Bisuto Ketsu

@Gardevoiran@TheRedWatcher@AngelofOctober@Alias

---

Ah, back to HQ so soon? Alas. And here he thought he might be useful for whatever mission Grant and Yuno were about to go on. But, Grant was his and Yuno's superior officer, and he supposed you couldn't have everything you wanted. Besides, he'd been fed decently, at the end of the day.

'Well, Grant, Yuno, I hope I see you both later on. Same to you, Mika-san- and remember,' he continued, pointing the idol's way, 'if you want anything from us, just call the number.' That said, he took up his coffee, taking another slightly sweetened, slightly sickening sip as he strolled out of the shop. It wasn't a bad place, by any means... but again, he rather felt that one taste of Mika's blood outdid anything else in there. Once he was out of sight of the location, he chucked the half-full cup in the nearest bin, and strolled the rest of the way back to the HQ, hands in his pockets and a whistle on his voice. If he wasn't berated too harshly, then maybe he'd get that mission report done, since he had nothing else to do with his time after all that.

One Piece: New Horizons!

Dirk Messir - To the Clocks!

Well, in hindsight, she's swimming, so she didn't die. Anyway, Dirk lost interest when Cedric told Crant he was leaving, and then told him to go to the town of clocks. So he did! And to do that, he is going to go to the wheel and turn it. What Krabbe has has learned Dirk knows is how to turn a ship, and he needs to pilot the there ship even better for all the next new times. Otherwise I'll die.

Do you know that you're injured, or are you too stupid to realise that?

...oh yeah, Bleu one punched him in got the stab stomached. Ouch! I mean heck. No it's fine, they're scarface wounds. Sacrepleurgh. The word meaning not bad. Dirk didn't not want not need anybody to heal him, but if Lillana got there anyway, he would be cool for the healing proclamation that would eat the cure woundatives. She looked at his face, even though he had no face hurting juice, but was in the stomach too. Meanheal, Cedric told all the people they were grante. Dirk did a good job apparently. Yeay.

You were bad Loser!

Nuh.

Yes you were Idiot! You sucked and lost a lot Weakling!

No. Shut up.

Weak weak weak weak weakling Failure!

'Shut up Jamewithaniintheexactmiddle.'

He's right. You were an utter mess.

'I ssssssaid shut up. I did good. Captain ssssssaid so, and Divine Purpoise has is the ssssssaid is yes.' Now would be a less not good time to do a breakdancedowndance. They were going to Glock Town, and he needed to dhave get them the captain's orders are important. Shut up brain noises. You're making it woooooRSE.

He did a wheel grab more now. Twitching necks are not rented a lent. SHUT UP BRAIN NOISES.

'...okay good. They did the shut up. Time for Shippidge.' And so they Shippidged.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

@Lugubrious@ProPro I finally posted. I apologise for taking so long.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Annoyance: A Treatise on Making Progress

Well, that was clearly Runch’s fault. Still, the pirate made the best he could of his newfound aerial vantage point - that is, he destroyed the balcony and nothing else, as that blasted many-bodied Stand absorbed every hit he fired out, plus Motley’s own strike against the user’s sister, who was now underwater. Alas.

'Pardon me, Runch,' Motley offered quietly, more out of courtesy than any real sense of guilt. The pirate had launched himself, after all. That said, he’d also safely landed himself in an utterly ridiculous position, only to pick himself up and ran into the building, chasing after Davian and blocking the way in- or out- with a wall of cereal.

Which left the last few instances of the brother’s Stand, and then the sister... and it seemed she’d failed to surface yet. Which meant she had something in mind... what could she do underwater? Launch more missiles? Well, naturally, but that meant contending with Heavy Fuel’s water saturation again - well, a reduced amount of it whilst he stood on the water column beneath him, but as the veins of his fingers continued to trail through the liquid, its presence was still noteworthy. Or, perhaps she meant for them to rise out before they hit that critical point, in which case they’d be easily observed?

...either way, it wasn’t worth taking the risk. Best to figure out a secondary way of stopping them before then… and what better way to do that than to litter the entire lake with debris? Not that that’d necessarily have a notable effect, given how Stands worked, but it might make things a touch more difficult for the girl anyway. Besides, he had another idea in mind that worked out well for this circumstance, and helped him gain some ground in the process.

With an abrupt surge of Ripple energy, the entire pillar Motley was standing upon violently gave way beneath him, clinging to his toetips as it collapsed straight downward. More for dramatic effect than anything else, he raised his hands as he was pulled downward, then slammed his palms full-force into the surface of the water, that double-slap combining with the force of the pillar’s collapse to crater the water momentarily, like a ball bearing impacting a rubber sheet before it bounced back. The same shockwave, with just a touch of encouragement from Heavy Fuel, promptly blasted through the lake around Motley, smashing the two halves of the tower to either side of him into tiny fragments, more well-suited to floating in the lake briefly than the two halves they had been before.

The rubber sheet of the water’s surface rebounded a moment after that, now hurling Motley into the air and towards the building. He also chose now to finally retract his harpoons back into his fingers, forcibly dragging Heavy Fuel behind them, a fair mass of the water with that, and the debris from the smashed tower pieces in the water towards the epicentre, ultimately leaving behind a virtual minefield, if only for a short while, that he figured may hinder the rockets as they made their path toward Motley’s former position.

If that even mattered. He still had his next trick churning inside him, once he reached more solid ground. And unless he was mistaken about how her Stand worked or any distinctly inhuman powers of hers that he’d missed, Aralynn couldn’t remain submerged forever.

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

@Old Amsterdam @Dogematix @Gardevoiran @A Lowly Wretch @Lady Selune @Irredeemable @TheRedWatcher @AngelofOctober @Keksalot

Aaaaaalright, ladies and gentlemen, the first IC post is now up! Feel free to either have your character start in the bar, or have them enter shortly after the events shown in the first post. And of course, have fun with your writing.

No Hope, No Glory, No Problem - A No More Heroes RP

March 13th, 2XXX

There was once a video store called Beef Head. Located somewhere in Santa Destroy, California, it sold videos, games, and DVDs of various sorts, including wrestling cassettes, and most notoriously, indulgently pornographic releases such as the ever-famous Pure White Lover Bizarre Jelly series.

However, with advances in media, and the untimely death of the owner, the video store was shut down. In time, it was replaced with an establishment that was both more and less legitimate: a bar playing off of the former establishment’s raunchy nature named The Dirty Babe. The outer walls had been expanded both ways along the street since the days of Beef Head, but it was a fundamentally similar sort of trash heap as before: bare brick walls on the outside, cheap black paint on the inside; wooden floorboards stained with the sorts of things that would only appear under a blacklight; and a bartop that was clearly in need of replacement, not the shabby repairs that had been attempted again and again.

Whilst almost nobody of any sort of reputableness visited such a franchise, it was very handy for the sorts of people who both did not care about being judged, or were already judged very, very harshly. In short, it was the sort of place that criminals, assassins, litterers, and street walkers adored hanging out in.

And, not only that, but it was also fantastically easy to acquire almost anything you wanted there, be it a brand new beam katana, a photon gun that was a perfect replica of Han Solo’s blaster, or three kilos of Black Tar Heroin.

Tonight, the most important people there had more human resources in mind. Two of their group were already present, both in bespoke business suits - but where one, dark-skinned and muscular, made a threatening impression with a half-empty pint glass clenched in his hand, the other seemed to barely stand out, despite the box covering his head and the clouds of smoke billowing from within, the source a Cuban cigar held lightly between two fingers between puffs.

The last had yet to show. He- “xhe”, rather- may have been aiming for “fashionably late”. Both other agents knew xhe acted like this. But, after an hour of waiting, that lateness had become distinctly unfashionable, and Agent Rutabaga was starting to get distinctly annoyed.

‘Where in the hell is that weirdo?’ he muttered under his breath, taking another swig of alcohol. ‘I swear half the people we’re interested in are already here; isn’t he meant to be handling some of them?’

‘For a given definition of “handling”, yes,’ the box-headed man replied dryly. ‘He’ll show up eventually, I’m sure.’ Rutabaga responded by muttering something about feet up asses, before taking another hefty swig of his drink and looking around. Some people there were definitely quite colourful, but whilst many were certainly assassins, it wasn’t clear whether any were their intended marks. Or rather, “their future pupils”, if the term was at all accurate - the project they had in mind was at the very least going to be interesting to see play out, if the chosen assassins didn’t all die in the process. And if they somehow succeeded, well, that’d be beneficial beyond measure.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@POOHEAD189 I'm perfectly okay with waiting for them to submit their characters. The more the merrier, after all.

One Piece: New Horizons!

Dirk Messir - JINGLEFIGHTEND

You did nothing. You didn't contribute, and you failed to help in any meaningful way. You are a failure.

Leave off, Derek, I did the cannon ship aim firing. And he did a great job, that was really wonderful, and they should be ashaped that it didn't get to go to the chin. Captain Cedar confirms that all. Anyway, looked like Christopher Sabat has finally eaten the punch. Or something or other. Oh also Grabbe wasn't a threat anymore, yaaaaay.

But he could get up Stupid! You should kill him while he is down Dummy! What if he crabbes everyone again Whore?

But he was also wrong. Krong didn't have the guts to follow them. Prob. Probably. Except Kaiser, who was unconscious and being carrier, NOOOOOOOOOOO... wait, he was a strong boye. The strongest, in fact. Well, the strongest except that Dirlk was going to be an even stronker boye. Anyway, Scissors would get up again - and he did, becuse he is the best, and the Divine Purpose for some reason said do that, so Dirk hugged him when he appeared. Soft. Mmmm.

He Is Soft, Isn't He! You Should Hug Him More Often!

I should! I should hug everyone more often. But firts, the Captain needed Dirk to go with him... to the chin? So he COULD go to the chin. Maybe.

And kill Krabbe? Or are you just going to posture about your pathetic strength again?

He doesn't need to get the kill, DEREK. You can't bulley Dork so much, you know. Obviously, Dark just needed to follow Cedric, and he'd be fine. See? He's doing it right now. And all is well with him, since the Divine Purpose had told me that I needed to go to the Cedric who was going to the Krabbe, and I went. And he was is REALLY young. Wow. What.

That Is Intriguing! You Found It Out! Well Done!

Thanks, Big Guy. I always have the best timing. And now they were going to be doing at freedom for no crimes, except for this new friend or enemy, who was apparently the also a D.? Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

The thing about the people with big D.s is, the Divine Purpose is the knowing of their special. It has them with a large special purpose, and so it says to them "you get to gloe". So they glowed at Dirk, which means Cedric glowed at Dirk and Waifu glows at Dirk. Double glow power. Double special porpoises. Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

And he's going to do the job you're too much of a coward to pull off. You sad sack of crap. If you don't kill Krabbe now, the opportunity will slip away from you.

Uh, YEAH, obviously! What is your pig bucking froblem, Derek? Like a pig bucking a guy off its back into the froblem. I don't NEEEEED to kill anyone! Dirk didn't do things when the Divine Purpose said "no", and right now, it was saying "no". Which meant... maybe Dirk should showed off his great power to fend off this fancy Kite?

But wait, there's more! Because it tranned out Feya was also in the water, where Dirk went to look at her and saw where she was. Why... why did she is in the see? He tilts his mind to look better.

'Feya, why are you in the sea?' Dirk called down to her, but mostly quietly so only loudly enough that she just heard it. 'Did you die? You can't die in the middle of battle. Otherwise, you stop fighting. Why did you die and stop fighting, Freya? That's not good combat ettakit, Flayer. Stop it.' She had to stop dying, otherwise she'd lost and died. And didn't fight. Had to do a fight with the baddies when they were are strill baddies.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Merry my latest status mas.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Alessa Heather: Trainyard

It sounded like Ira had taken the opportunity to activate her device at last. The null field was, at least, functioning as intended: she could feel her powers leaving her as she passed near Epsilon, and mildly threatening as that was, she knew it also meant any villains in range were equally depowered.

If any were in range, that was. Gunfire and crashing noises rang out from within the warehouse, followed by Overlook’s report that his drone was coming under attack, albeit without any damage dealt so far. Not to mention, whoever was talking in there, a man with a British accent, was apparently coming off as suspicious... shit, could that be Chatterbox? As she recalled from Lovecraft’s interrogation, his power had something to do with his “magic voice”, meaning the more he talked, the more effect it’d have on them. Something for Epsilon’s field to get in range of as soon as possible, then. There could be no funny business with any parahuman abilities if they were inactive, after all.

But something in the guy’s voice... she wanted to think he had a point. It wouldn’t be particularly heroic of them to just allow the crates to be damaged beyond repair, after all... maybe letting a few people go wouldn’t be so...

She was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of requests for their next move. Lillian first, followed shortly by an apparent breakdown of her will to act; and then Margrave, who seemed to be alright, but...

But. But but but.

He’d just suggested they should give up being heroes. And he was making Lillian feel bad in the process. Perhaps with a power of his?

How dare he.

‘Tulpa, keep them busy as long as possible, then take out the drivers once everyone else has engaged with the villains,’ Messiah began, her voice authoritative, commanding even, as she spoke. ‘Tiger Lily, Skeetz, head round the back, cut off that escape route as quickly as possible. Everyone else, move in and spread out. We’re taking these bastards down, now.’

And with that, she grabbed the nearest door and flung it open, gesturing for Margrave, Epsilon, and the soldiers associated with each of them respectively to do as told, each scouring the warehouse from appropriate angles to ensure they would see the interlopers even if they hid elsewhere. She was going to capture at least one of these people, even if it killed her.

---

Raymond Haywood: Trainyard

And that, it seemed, was that for the box. A fast job. But not as clean as he’d wanted, not by a long shot; the drone hovering in had demanded that they stand down, and gunfire from Chatterbox was ineffective. What would, on the other hand, be especially effective would be his chatter, if it kept working as intended. If the power worked the way he thought it did, the boy’s big mouth might even be their most valuable asset over time, moreso even than Raymond’s own ability.

And on the other hand, that drone was not proving easy to take down. It could dodge gunfire, and like as not it’d be able to dodge the crate Jason had just hurled at it too... did that, perhaps, have anything to do with the sudden sense of attachment he felt toward the rest of his team?

...HIS team? What the...

Luckily, a few steps further toward the back fixed the matter, giving him a moment too to spy a shadow moving out of the path of the skylight... was somebody up there, then? A problem to resolve in a moment. Right now, he had a job to do - apparently, the plastic drone was hard to hit? Funny story, that was Headhunter’s specialty. He flicked the gun over to its FN P90 setting, and scoped in.

Well, tried to scope in. For some reason, he wasn’t getting a read, despite the drone clearly being in range to hit. Thinker interference? Possibly. He was originally planning to take out the camera first, followed by each propeller in turn, but if that wasn’t going to work out, he might as well just take his shots - aiming at the drone, he let off a spray of five rounds, an attempt to shatter the casing, as well as the more important internals keeping it powered and viable.

And once the drone was down, finishing it off would be a simple matter of smashing it with the butt of his gun a few times. No need to waste any additional bullets on a plastic toy, after all. On the other hand, it did sound like Chatterbox’s gibberish was having rather the opposite effect of what was intended, going by the somewhat distant sound of orders being spouted in the tone of a young-ish girl.

Followed by the opening of the front-side warehouse doors. Shit.

‘Heartless, there’s somebody upstairs. Take them out, and get to us when you’re done. Everyone else, we’re taking the back way out of here,’ he ordered with volume a little way above his usual quietude, gesturing for everyone else to follow him as he began to jog back the way he came in the first place, weapon primed to deal with any soldiers or capes who might show up. Not that that’d happen, but if it did, he’d be ready for it.