Crusader Lord

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

Knossos Dreamwalker

Destination: The Emerald Forest

Well, that had certainly been an adventure of sorts back in the forest. Galaxor had seemingly gotten his wish for some combat, though not all of them had gotten out unscathed, and many a spirit had been put to rest in turn. He almost wished he could talk more to the ghost of the dead paladin that had appeared, get some information and such down while he could, but the caravan itself had to move onto the next destination as well. In that vein, he'd been pressed on time to wind things down and grab what he could on the way out for study despite his desire to stick around and do some studying. Hmm. That and they needed to tend to the wounded.

After ensuring Terliu's raised dead were fully gone, and insisting on being the last to leave the barrow, Knossos had taken to trying to gather any potentially dangerous items that might need containment. In particular, he would take the sword of the released Wraith and several key 'interesting' chunks of the now-smashed throne as 'souveniers' for his cart. His body still felt sore enough from having been slammed against the wall by the final blast, somewhat, but it had felt worth the effort in order to ensure further passerby couldn't get involved in something dangerous. And on that matter-

*CRACKLE*

*CRUNCH*

*CREAK*

Someone had to remove the barrow from any future equation. The spirits of the dead had been appeased, and fire was a manner of burial in many places, so with such in mind he'd gone about a controlled burn of sorts.

Flames had licked the insides of the barrow with wanton glee, sparks dancing as the flames had spread about any lingering bone or tissue he could apply it to. Oranges flittered about with reds and flames of black as the dance continued, the magical hellfire seeming to have a mind of its own almost as Knossos conjured and directed it. The occultist aimed at removing any traces of what had been. Bones. Marrow. Items. Burnable materials. Even if it left the history of the place an unknown to any others, the better to remove anything too dangerous and purge it. Even if that meant demonic fire had to be applied to the problem as a solution.

Once he was assured of the inside being cleared out, the occultist had quenched the flames at his command and collapsed the entrance of the barrow completely for good measure.

...Better some things were to be left forgotten to history, perhaps, once it had all been resolved and cleansed.

In that vein, the occultist would turn back toward the caravan, take one quiet look back, and then take his prizes as he began the march back to catch up with the others. Still, he had a bottle of wine to bring to a certain cheese-maker, and some new artifacts to study and place in containment. So it wasn't a loss overall, per say, but it was certainly something he hoped wouldn't repeat itself too often in the future either.

---

Destination: The Hold of Clan Buraq

Ah, sand. What could he say about it? It was hot, it was harsh, and indeed it got everywhere. A lot of people hated it for that reason, and yet those accustomed to such terrain certainly were more well-adjusted. It was in this vein that Knossos felt glad to be familiar with such terrain, even if it had meant conjuring himself some extra water to bring on the road. Albeit water he couldn't really 'share' with others, but which he could drink of for some particular reasons, but water to sustain himself all the same. All the same, the presence of the olden road underneath their feet and sparse vegetation of the dry scrubland and savannah they were in was definitely distinct from the likes of a full-on desert.

He could feel an insivisible chill run down his spine, however, at the mere thought of seeing 'those' rolling dunes and ruins and so forth again. A place he hoped they wouldn't route through if possible in the future, much less run into a bit.

Still, this sort of landscape was not alien to him either. Not after he'd been traveling with the caravan for some time by now. However, this particular location was at least new to him personally.

A colossal ochre stone wall bars easy entrance to the hold itself, but even where wall ends and mountain begins, the defences continue. Cut into the rock itself are structures and fortifications – guard posts, murder holes and even springalds, all manned by tiny figures only distinguishable from the mountains themselves thanks to the glints of light from their broad shields and scaled armour.

But this is only the beginning of it. Just outside of the walls, stretched out in the no-mans land between farming estates and the city itself is a sea of tents, wagons, temporary structures and perhaps most astounding of all are the rolling towers and citadels, and the humongous beasts that have been hitched near them.

They stand nearly ten men tall to their shoulders alone, with tremendously long noses that curl and twist like vast snakes. Massive tusks jut from either side of these trunks, banded with steel and affixed with vicious looking blades or vast metal rams at their ends. Mûmakils – Oliphaunts. Their lesser brethren, the elephants, live in Alwyne’s warmer climes, but these are alike them in shape alone: these creatures are the largest warbeasts seen on this continent – indeed, perhaps anywhere on Alwyne.

Constructions formed from rugged and weather-worn stone stood out before the eyes of the seasoned traveler, seeming to jut out of the side of the mountain like some part of a great, yawning maw of sorts. A well-made and perhaps centuries old structure built into the mountain? Perhaps. Yet the stone seemed hewn further than this, the mountain itself incorporated into the defenses of the place they were approaching, and well-fitted to the shorter stature of the denizens who manned them either more or much less visibly. A veritable fortress of an entrance indeed....and who knew how many times it had been tested over the years. How many times arrows and stones and the like had scratched away at it alongside the winds and grains of sand. What stories such things could tell, and yet sat as silent as the stone it was all composed of! Haha. Yet the approach wasn't all simply scrubland and the like either, thank goodness.

The view of passing estates along the road, covered in swaths of verdant farmland, was certainly a sight of its own as well. And yet he got the sneaking suspicion that not all in the fields were perhaps willing participants or too akin to the serfs of his old homeland. Or perhaps he was simply overthinking things based on what he was observing, what he saw, and what feeling he got from things as they simply passed by. But moving into the empty space between these and the oncoming walls, though, things seemed to more dramatically shift. Rolling towers and citadels, wrought from hardy materials, sat about like moveable fortifications that could be brought in and out of battle. These in turn were pulled by vast beasts of size and scale and scope. Greater than the height of many men these greats beasts of burden and war seemed to stand, with vast trunks that seemed to be bordered by titanic, curved, and metal-tipped tusks of grand and magnificent ivory that almost seemed to hold a light sheen under the unceasing light of the scorching sun. He'd seen smaller sorts than these out in other areas of Alwyne in years long gone, but these were certainly the largest subjects he'd seen in quite a long time! Not the largest beasts or such he'd ever seen in his life, admittedly, but nothing to scoff at either in this case.

Alongside all of this seemed to come the sea of tents, carts, and other beasts of burden that seemed to be scattered like grains of sand upon a sandy beach shore. Was all of this space dedicated to hold travelers and caravans and the like in this manner, or had it simply become such over the years without much prompting otherwise? It was curious, but still wasn't an uncommon sight for a larger city in his experience. Keeping potential groups and such outside, with people able to peddle wares and services outside as travelers and merchants wrought business inside and persons generally moved in and out of the main gate along with the flow of goods. It was familiar in a sense that was somewhat comforting to him, though some of the 'goods' were certainly something beyond his 'tastes' as it were.

"Please, be quiet, they'll hear..."

The voice of a mother hushing a crying child, all as they both walked in chains by them and headed down into the city proper.

"Get it again!"

The voice of a soldier ordering around a camp slave, one who had managed to stumble and spill a vessel of water in front of her master. Seemed to be far from 'new', if the marks on her back and clothing were of any indication, and her quiet nod and movement to go grab more water were simply confirmation of his suspicions on the matter.

He'd heard of such times in other places, seen them elsewhere as well, and for many such practices were very much normalized. Standard. Things they had done for so many generations it was alien to consider otherwise. In others, such as where he had come from, such a trade was seen as useless for the most part. A lack of need for such hard labor slaves where servants were simply fine, where serfs got protection and to keep enough to eat, and where merchants had been growing in number as many moved toward the bigger cities in his youth. His youth. It had been such a long time since then, really....enough to make the occultist wonder what if anything had changed over the decades back there just as much as it made some part of him desire to avoid the location altogether yet still.

The caravan is stopped just outside the army encampment and directed to park themselves in a wide-open space, a few other, smaller caravans already circled. With the return of the army, the city is filled to capacity, but travellers are free to come and go as they always have… So long as they follow the Clan’s laws.

Regardless of what was being done here or not, they were in the land of another place. Another people. Another culture. It benefitted the caravan to maintain neutrality and not earn the ire of the locals in places they went to, whether they liked it or not, and anyone who endangered that....well, made themselves a danger to the caravan. A grim truth of the world, but one that had to be abided by lest they earn themselves a fair bit of dangerous attention. Not that some places didn't hand that out in spades whether they tried to or not, but if they could avoid it then such would be good.

...So yes, he hoped he would not have to try to place a quick curse or two on certain members of the company to keep them from putting a target on everyone's backs. To that end he'd need to consult with Athulwin for further approval as a precaution.

"Victra valis..."

A quietly muttered spell would emerge from the occultist's lips, a small wisp of flickering black, red, and orange flame would emerge before his eyes. It seemed to stare back at him, looking like a tiny floating fireball, but it was as much a little messenger as Knossos could muster for the moment being without bringing in something too big. In that he'd worry if the locals would react more or less badly, but he was unaccustomed to Dinnin religion and its ways in the general sense. Better to be small and safer than sorry, he felt, even as he rolled his self-moving cart into its position in the parked caravan train, got out of the cooling shade of the inside of his covered cart, and lightly hopped off to stretch his legs finally.

"Bring a message from me to Athulwin, asking him if we should take any measures to handle 'potentially worrisome' members of our caravan at this particular location pre-emptively or otherwise. Also see if he has any other advice on the matter otherwise as well. I want to be informed as a precaution for the most part.

Also, please don't set anything on fire. Not unless its someone trying to make a campfire on the open ground along the way."

A small puff of smoke rose from the top of the fiery wisp. Almost like it was huffing in mild frustration at being lectured on not being able to set something on fire. Even so, it would flit away as it moved through the scorching air to find and deliver the message to Athulwin. No fire? Hmphf! Almost made the little thing want to return to the demonic plane it had been summoned from....though admittedly the driving heat and encironment in this part of the mortal plane was still pleasant enough to it otherwise.

In the meantime, the occultist would seek out Gadri and see if the smith knew if he could peddle his occult services here safely (or not) in this place. Or whatever the sort might be. Some further insight into the local area and practices would certainly be a welcome thing if nothing else.

We Aren't The Hero's Party - Fanrasy Anime RP (Cancelled)

With a few things happening on my end IRL, and interest getting a tad crowded here, I'll unfortunately have to withdraw my interest for the time being.

Will keep an eye out though!

o7

The New Marvels: An Avengers Academy RP

Alcides

Location: Stark Tower, Manhattan, NYC

---

A situation already? On their first day? A worrying sign of things to come, perhaps, given they hadn't even had a single session to work together or attempt to figure things out. A cohesive unit had to train together, work together, and the like. He'd learned actually something about that back at the testing facility, at least, albeit it had been pushed on them in a much more practicality-focused manner to say the least. Among other things. But right now they needed to focus on the task at hand, and he hoped that things would turn out well somehow. Some way. At the very least he could determine what he knew and could do, if nothing else, and that would be better than nothing in the end perhaps. He just had to rememmber that....well....this was different than what he'd been sent out to do before all of this. Yes. Something to keep in mind there.

Yet the 'locker room' they'd been told about seemed to be more than he had thought. Their arrival down there with their 'honorary' Avengers cards would certainly give them access to the lockers, and their rooms and such from the sounds of it, and even acted as a communicator of sorts somehow as well. Hmm. Multi-purpose to be sure, but worryingly concentrated into one simple device. What about software vulnerabilities? Hardware concerns? Hmm. Perhaps things to ask about later when it came to operational vulnerabilities and risks, because he didn't know everything about these devices either for that matter. However, the presence of seemingly a detox space and showering areas in general was something he felt thankful for in the end to see there. Cleaning up and having something ready in case of post-mission exposure to harmful substances to some extent was certainly a good thing to be sure.

Yet as he approached his own locker-

Hell, they went above and beyond for Alcides' locker in particular; it seemed to be hooked up to something back in the Workshop, and at the swipe of his card, called his suit to the location in its compacted, almost gel-like state to flow into him and set itself up however necessary. They spared nothing with this program, that much was certain.

Hmm. He didn't have to go to the Workshop as he'd thought prior, and the system seemed built particularly for his suit to be brought to him to boot. Perhaps he could ask about it later? It'd be curious to delve into the engineering behind that. But for now, he ws focused on something else entirely: The mission. In that vein the prospective Avenger would call down his suit, it quickly arriving soon afterward in its compacted state as he reached out and made contact with it. From here the compacted gel-like state of the suit seemed to immediately respond, rapidly assembling itself over his body as Jason waited for the usual ping of his HUD and other systems to become acessible once more. Reserve power was still mostly full. Systems nominal. Perfect.

As everyone hurried up to the roof and a beautiful waiting Quinjet, though, Jason would connect his internal comms systems for the suit into those of the Quinjet instead. Not that his fully assembled suit would fit well inside of the aircraft, but he didn't want to miss any of the breifing either. The perks of being too big to sit with the others, perhaps, but it at least gave him some form of flexibility in their arrival. In that vein, as the Quinjet took off he would also take off in his suit to follow right alongside it.

"Okay, kids, from what I know, we've headed to STARK Tower. Sure some of you have seen it; one of Tony's classic monuments to hubris."

Hubris? He had heard Iron Man was the sort who had quite the eccentric and self-interested sort of personality. Then again, he'd also used his own life as payment for securing the future of the world. Well, the universe even. Jason wasn't fully sure how to feel about the matter personally, but even so he could feel there was a history between Happy and the deceased Avenger from the tone of the other man's voice alone. The way he spoke. Respect was one thing, but giving some crap to one's friends also seemed to be a bit of a thing that one did when they were close to someone as well sometimes.

Hmm.

"According to what our systems picked up just now, there'd been a break-in with a suspicious grace period before all the fun bits and bobs of the tower tried kicking in. Dunno how someone infiltrated it so easily, but that's that...Beyond that, we know that Mrs. Stark was under attack, and we don't know her current status...""According to what our systems picked up just now, there'd been a break-in with a suspicious grace period before all the fun bits and bobs of the tower tried kicking in. Dunno how someone infiltrated it so easily, but that's that...Beyond that, we know that Mrs. Stark was under attack, and we don't know her current status..."

"That means at least one perpetrator, but if the readings we got are accurate, it seems whoever attacked Mrs. Stark was only a part of a larger scheme. There's also been some trace elements of nuclear radiation, which is...Off. You'll all need to stay on your toes, okay? We're closing in."

Sensors detect multiple hostiles ahead. Multiple mutated genomes are present. Structural damage is detected in the vicinity as well.

And then something else pinged up on the HUD and rang in his ears as the suit communicated further to him.

Detecting falling biological mass. Subject Status: Alive. Incapacitated. Identity: Pepper Stark Potts. Alias: Rescue. Conclusion: Individual is in a state of dangerous and lethal freefall.

ALERT: Further detecting a mutated genome moving to intercept Ms. Potts. Subject deemed highly dangerous. Interception reccomended.

"There's-"

However...Something distracted Hogan, which would prove costly. While it was hard to judge at first, he saw her tumbling through the air like a doll tossed from a window; it was Rescue, or rather..."PEPPER!" That moment of alarming emotion was what left the Quinjet vulnerable, as a sickly green ray tore straight through one of their wings, sending the vessel plummeting at an alarming pace. "Shit! Everyone, hold on!"

ALERT: Attack inbound. Evasive manuvers reccomended!

Jason didn't get a chance to say anything to the others, being forced to veer out of the way as the ray tore through the air and through one of the Quinjet's wings. While Happy moved to get the ship on the ground in a sudden crash landing, however, the former child soldier would attempt a rapid retaliation in the meantime. Better than leaving the others open to more attack by turning his attention away from the enemy in the heat of the moment, perhaps, or so he felt about the matter for now. With this the left shoulder of Jason's suit lightly and swiftly whooshed open as two micro-missiles armed and Jason directed the systems to lock onto the grouped targets down on the ground below. Avoid civilian targeting. Precision mode. And....firing!

Two micro missiles would rapidly stream out, jetting down smartly and with precision toward where Elly and the other grouped-up members of the 'Bad Bunch' were. An attempt to buy time for the others to land and get out of the Quinjet, but likewise not being aimed to, well, 'kill' in this case either. Enough to make someone panic, scatter, but not aimed at taking them out. Just aimed at open spots and set to be potent enough to send them flying back if they got hit in this case in the general sense he hoped.

In the meantime, the suited younger man would gun the suit's thrusters to try to intercept the falling woman. Not only was she the Academy's headmaster, or headmistress or whatever term was used, but she was a civilian in danger. As much as part of him wanted to make those missiles he'd fired be lethal, or prioritize taking down the enemies with lethal force as he'd done so many times before, Jason felt his teeth gritting some as he tried to focus and override the automatic responses his prior many years of training and experience had taught him down to an instinct. Because....it wasn't easy. It wasn't going to be, and yet it still felt tough enough as it was.

But while he was trying to be on top of things, and gunning it toward Pepper in his suit to catch her before the reptilian-looking creature (as it seemed to be as he got closer, it seemed the others would finally land and manage to get out. Mostly because the comms began blaring with people shouting things out and the like.

“Jason! Get Mrs. Stark! Make sure she is safe then join back!” Hopefully the flying machine could get to her fast enough to catch the fall, though something did concern him from his brief stint looking that way. “Large monster approaching her location!”

“Five outside the building. Unknown abilities.” He glanced over at the more… human looking individuals in the other stoic individual who snapped about beds being beds, Mazie, Thunderbolt, Mia, and the siblings. “Keep distant until you see an opening. Provide suppressing fire if you can. Civilians seem gone.” He did not mean to insult anyone’s capabilities, but judging based on appearance, there were maybe only one or two that could survive a head on collision with that blast. Himself and….

He turned towards Laura. Whatever the concerning feeling he had about her was going to have to be correct. “You. Come with me, or do as you wish.” He shifted the sword in his hands, before stepping out. His golden armor glistened in the sun as he dropped his visor.

He let loose a bellowing “CHAAAARRRGE!”

Exciteable Armor Guy

....Well this was just a great start, wasn't it? Ok. So he would focus on what he was doing, but the others seemed to be trying to do something on their own as well. Right. And one of them seemed to be barking orders already like they were the leader. Etc.

"Avoid civilians and try to mitigate structual damage as well, everyone, where and if possible. Over."

It was his own attempt to at least help in the matter by making the note.

"Alright, everyone. Apologies for my bad English -- I'm Izkry, and I'll be your eyes in the sky today." With a soft command to Dancer, he sent one drone to take photos of the five on the ground, with the second drone following after Jason to keep tabs on him and the one called Pepper, also with orders to photograph their sixth opponent.

"Happy, do you recognize any of these people?" he asked, displaying the images across his screen.

Regrettably, one of them actually was recognizable. "One. The blonde with the fur-lined jacket? Anastasia Kravinoff, otherwise known as Kraven the Hunter. Inherited the title from her father after he...Well, that's not important. She's strong, fast, and has a level of martial prowess that could make trained military men and women look like toddlers. Seems like this may be more dangerous than we thought..."

"Hear that, folks? Lady with the spear and the fur jacket is highly dangerous. Take her out from a distance, if you can, as she is extremely competent at close range."

Comms Support

....Well this was just a great start, wasn't it? Ok. So he would focus on what he was doing, but the others seemed to be trying to do something on their own as well. Right. And one of them seemed to be barking orders already like they were the leader. Etc.

"Roger that, Izkry and Happy. Already prioritizing the rescue of Ms. Potts on my end, but requesting analysis of the other body trying to intercept her fall. If possible, Izkry. Over."

His suit and sensors were one thing, but if the other creature moving to intercept the falling Ms. Potts could be identified or something of the sort then it'd be a welcome thing. Well, if Izkry had the time and field capabilities for that on the fly at least. However, Pepper was his top priority and ensuring her safety. In that vein he wasn't going to fire on the other individual moving toward her to avoid further endangering civilians on the ground or making more of an unessecary mess for that matter in this moment.

“Fine, whatever you say captain.” Elias said with a sarcastic undertone in his voice as he hopped down onto the street. His purple eyes glared towards their targets ahead of them, Feeling a burning sensation building deep in his gut. His eyes flickered to a burning Orange that matched the flames that suddenly engulfed both his arms. He began to hurl balls of hellfire towards the line of villains as he walked towards them in a calm manner. He looked between them trying his best to guess who was going to be more trouble then the others.

“Personally I think the dragon is going to be a bit of an issue.” He called out to the other students in between fire balls. “I can distract it if we need to, I don't look it, but I'm pretty durable.”

The Might Morphin Halloween Ranger

....Well this was just a great start, wasn't it? Ok. So he would focus on what he was doing, but the others seemed to be trying to do something on their own as well. Right. And one of them seemed to be barking orders already like they were the leader. Etc.

"See if anyone else in engaging the dragon. If not, see if you can break another enemy away from the group perhaps to help divide the enemy group up. Spread their attention. Try not to bunch up too tightly. Over."

If the guy didn't have any ideas, then go or the old 'divid et impera' strategy. Divide the enemy's attention rather than put all their focus on just one of them. Split their attention and capabilities. Etc. Might make it easier for them to handle things in this....rough and sudden first 'mission' of sorts they were being thrown into.

Hopefully everything would turn out alright at this rate....somehow.

We Aren't The Hero's Party - Fanrasy Anime RP (Cancelled)

Another Xalt RP?! :O

Count me curious...and interested!

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

The small steel type would dig its claw against the floor, choosing to instead meet the Buneary head on. As Sir Lopsalot sprung forward, his fist struck the Aron right between the eyes, earning a small squeal from the pokemon. It was not enough to deter it, though as soon Buneary would find itself being smacked again with the Aron’s claws. The entirety of Aron’s body tensed as the blow landed, the metallic sheen on its claws growing brighter and sharper!

Its attack had been raised!

The Buneary's fist struck the Aaron, but for the enemy to strike back so soon was a surprise! It was enough to send the Buneary backward again, teeth clenching tight in pain as the bunny tucked into a roll, but the raise of the enemy's attack wasn't frankly good news either. But...what could they do? Hmm. There had to be something that could be done to stop the enemy! But should they defend again, and try to raise defense, or should they try to attack the enemy once more?

He didn't know, but perhaps his trainer did! Maybe they stood a chance?

“That’s it, Aron! Sharpen those claws! Chase after it!” Aron wasted no time, intending on barreling down Sir Lopsalot before it could raise its attack any further!

What?! That had been a good blow from the enemy, and while Sir Lopsalot's defense had been raised Clarissa had no idea if they could take another unmitigated attack! The enemy was barreling down on Sir Lopsalot, as fast as those tiny legs could at least, it seemed, so they had little time to think. On the other hand, they'd raised Sir Lopsalot's attack, and the enemy was charging right in at them! At least the Buneary had rolled back some instead of just hitting the ground, giving him a little but not too much distance now, but...she....and they....

...No! She couldn't afford to let the nerves win. Win or lose, they had to see this through to the end. That was their resolve!

"Before that Aron can get to you, Sir Lopsalot, bounce back and counterattack with another Power-Up Punch!

Give it everytthing you've got!"

They had no time to try to tuck in and defend again. With one raise in Sir Lopsalot's defense, and one boost to his attack, there was a chance he could survive this trade of blows! In that vein, the Buneary would come out of his roll and onto his feet, eyes gleaming with determination as his small fist came up and he propelled his body with as much speed as he could back at the Aaron once more. His small hand, clenched into a fist, glowed once more with an awesome power! Its mighty grip told him to defeat the foe before him, no matter what!

His arms were also longer somewhat than the opponent's stubbier legs, perhaps, and he had speed on his side! It was worth a shot! Any little thing, any bit of effort, everything had to go into this! Such was the Buneary's adamant determination, and the resolve he shared with his trainer!

"Buuuuuuuun!"

POWER

UP

PUUUUUNCH!

Win or lose, this was the start of their grand journey!

@Rune_Alchemist@Bartimaeus

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

“Preparin’ for a typhoon is always good, but don’t get complacent!” Tuule shouted. “Aron! Metal Claw!”

A fiercesome move to start with indeed. But the little steel/rock type was at least slower than her own Pokemon, Clarissa figured, and in that vein this seemed to be proven right. The curled up Buneary was sent bouncing back across the floor, and yet as he did so Clarissa didn't immediately shout another command out. She had to see. Wait. Look. Just for a moment. The right moment was coming, and instant retaliation wasn't perhaps the wisest decision in this case she felt. In truth the psychic was trying to follow her grandmother's advice. 'Don't be too aggressive, look for an opening and such, and yet also mind to be decisive', or something along those lines, is how it had sounded to her. But it was some of what little advice she'd gotten before leaving Orre. In that vein-

“Back off, Aron! Being too aggressive will get one sunk faster than an anchor through the deep!”

Ah! Now! It had to be a good window of time, yes? She hoped so.

"Sir Lopsalot! Bounce back now with a Power-Up Punch!"

The bunny uncurled as he bounced back once more time, with his feet coming out in time to catch the landing as he launched himself suddenly forward again with great speed! Against the retreating Aron he aimed his blow, little bunny's arm and fist glowing as the surprise fighting-type move came in swinging to try to land a good decisive first blow on his opponent!

Would it work out, though, and give them some kind of chance? Find out next time on One Punch Bunny Z!

Clarissa hoped the move would go well. It was her first real Pokemon battle, really, even if she was facing a serious opponent indeed. Win or lose, however, they had to give it their all! In that vein Sir Lopsalot also hoped for success, though he was more so focused on his opponent and trying to stay aware in case his opponent tried to make its own sudden moves in retaliation. What little he knew from before....sometimes an enemy or opponent would try to be all sneaky-like! Or something like that. Er, more like 'expect the unexpected', really, even if he couldn't tell his trainer that.

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

“Brave lass, aren’t ya?” He’d say. “And a brave little rabbit huh?” A small chuckle as he’d pull a pokeball from his coat pocket. He’d bring the pokeball up to his face, gazing at the ball with a light smirk. “Normally I’d say you’re far too weak to weather a storm, lass, but lucky for you the sea’s fairly calm today.”

Stretching the arm out, Tuule would open the pokeball, and out came-

Ah. That was an interesting Pokemon for sure.

"Bun!"

Sir Lopsalot would roar out in his little Buneary voice as a battle cry of his own in response to the Aron. He even decided to flex his arms and ears in response, just to accentuate the point.

Clarissa would pull out her Pokedex-like device to scan Tuule's Pokemon for herself somewhat quickly. It was certinaly another curious Pokemon that piqued her interest somewhat, but at the same time was not perhaps the best matchup in type from the looks of it. Steel/Rock. Not much of a good thing for a Normal-type to face in general, she figured, but Sir Lopsalot was definitely not unprepared either. She had learned about about type advantages in prior schooling though, at least, to get an idea of things before coming to Eidda. Not that Orre was perhaps the most up to date either....but it wasn't nothing at least. Still, the psychic quickly put the device back in her pocket to avoid stalling the start of the battle out.

Still, to hear some of the sailors cheering from her depite the odds was somewhat amusing. Heh. They wanted an underdog to win, perhaps? She couldn't guaratee a win, but the two of them would assuredly do their best to do so!

"Sir Lopsalot! Use Defense Curl!"

To that end, the Buneary would contract his body to curl up to raise his physical defense! Though how Tuule would respond, well, Clarissa had no clue. But to raise the defense of her Pokemon a stage would be useful at the start, she felt, to get a little more potential surtvivability and see what her opponent would kick things off with in the meantime.

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

Well, a bad gamble was not something one could avoid the consequences of. Literally. But perhaps that was the lot of sailors? What few sailors she'd been around any in the first place anywho. At the same time, it was somewhat eye-opening for her to see another Gym Leader of all people in a place like this. Or did he often come here? Maybe just once in a while? Perhaps it was also the contest, after all, as another Gym Leader was here participating in that. So it wasn't as crazy, but still surprising enough to learn as they sat there waiting on food.

However, despite a internal sigh of relief at the sailors having left and moved a lot of negative emotions out of the area...it seemed things weren't quite over yet.

“Right, then. Alright! If anyone here is brave enough to fight the Gym Leader of Rivenwall, Captain Tuule in a one on one match, step into that ring!

Fight...a gym leader? Right here? It wasn't a formal league challenge, but it at least was a tempting offer if the psychic had to admit the truth to herself. Yet to do so right out of the gate, as her first trainer battle, of all things? It was an idea that seemed ever so stupid, foolish, and naive at best! Yet all the same it was a chance to get a true taste of their future aspirations, her and Sir Lopsalot at least that is, even if it was in the hard way. What chance did either her or Ripley have to win if they did try though? Little to none at best.

But still, she'd keep her cool and they could just-

"Bun!"

Clarissa felt a tugging at her right sleeve, and snapping out of her train of thought would look to the side to see Sir Lopsalot. The buneary would motion toward Tuule with his free arm, the other one tugging slightly harder now at the psychic's skirt. She would raise an eyebrow as she looked over at where Tuule was, and then back down a the little Buneary. The gaze of the little Pokemon did not break from her eyes for even a second either. Steely. Hardened. Determined, even.

Was he-? Really?! No, actually, it made more sense than not. A lot more. Headheaded little Buneary was something else when it came to raw determination, and he seemed to want to start their adventure by hopping into the deep end. He had...well, it was safe to say that when the little bunny wanted to do something, or she did otherwise, they were usually a pair no matter what. Not that he wasn't already a bit stubborn at times, but to want to challenge such a strong foe like this? Hmm.

"Bun! Bun bun."

Nope. This was one of 'those' times, it seemed, and without any warning. In that vein Clarissa would sigh aloud, running a hand through her hair for a moment before looking back to Sir Lopsalot and giving him a simple nod. It all went without having to say anything else at that point, but no words would dissuade him. More like it was a an affirmation for herself to try to steel herself for what was to come. However, the psychic would look over at Ripley before she did anything else.

"We'll be right back. Please keep our food safe until then, Ripley, if it comes out sooner than later."

Politely standing up from where she sat on her side of the booth, the new trainer would walk in the direction of the rough-looking man and Tuule (as his name seemed to be). Sir Lopsalot, for his part, would seem to go into a steely expression as he hopped along with her. Not a word or sound from the litle guy the whole short walk over, but even so he seemed to be determined to go through with things. Trying to deal with the whims of an adamant little bunny certainly was something, though in this case she had already felt a little curious about this anyway. Hmm. Perhaps they both had a problem.

"We're brave enough to take that challenge. Strong enough to? Well....we've got to start learning somewhere on this journey."

A small run of adrenaline pulsed through her blood vessels for a moment. Anticipation, perhaps? Hmm. They would have to see.

The New Marvels: An Avengers Academy RP

Alcides

Location: Queens, New York; Avengers Academy

---

"That will be fine, Jason. We'll have plenty of time to drop your armor off soon enough."

Affirmative. He would, though, for the moment remain sitting where he was on the ground. It was certianly a better spot than the hard floor of a cell, or his former living quarters even before that. Though perhaps in some respects....the suit was itself a sort of comfortable enough space for him as well for the moment. At least if he tried to think more on it. Sure its use kept him safer and better alive in a general sense, but he had become accustomed to it. What was the phrase, again? 'Being comfortable in your own skin'? Eh, perhaps it was close enough for the moment being.

More than that, the armored younger man would finally turn his head about to take a glance and look at the other 'students' around him.

It felt somewhat familiar in a vague sense, and yet at the same time the airs of the place and expressions of these fellow students were still abnormal to him. One girl's eyes seemed to be scanning over their Headmaster as if looking for weak points, even as she seemed to be in some sort of pleasant mood at least. There was also the other younger man closer to where he was while sittig on a bench. Seemed relaxed, if not from here frankly, to his eyes. Just was something he felt from the way the guy carried himself here, and how he didn't seem to be too bothered by things perhaps. There was also another girl who seemed to be also dressed rather 'normally', but seemed enthusiastic enough about things otherwise. Then came-

“How do you do, fellow kids?” She spoke with a flash of a smirk, enough of her black matte-covered lips parting to reveal the flash of her sharpened canines in amusement.

...Hmm. Nice bike, but the look in the eyes of the guy who was driving it certianly felt a bit too familiar to Jason's eyes. Somewhat too close to home for him, really, and the man seemed to slip away as soon as he could to boot. It was all he could do to get a passing glance to notice, but beyond that something or someone else was more notable to see here. Or rather, had just cheekily flashed a grin at them in a seemingly fanged sort of manner. Seemed to be taking this entire affair lightly enough and casually enough as it was, but he'd no idea what the others here had gone through frankly or how they'd ended up as they were now.

Not his favorite person, though, at least for a first impression and the particular vibes he got from her.

"If I have everyone's attention?" Giving a few patient moments to ensure everyone had their focus towards him, the Headmaster spoke once again. "If you all will follow me, I'll give you a tour of the Academy grounds alongside War Machine and Mr. Hogan here."

Noted. War Machine. Avenger. Suit originated from Tony Stark's technology. They had at the testing facility been giving some lessons where this individual was noted. Though Jason himself still wasn't seeing Mr. Wilson anywhere around this introduction. Hmm. Well, it wasn't as if everyone had to come greet the new students themselves. Would be peculiar and even more strange if they had made the teachers to such a thing. Deadpool was seemingly the eccentric one who had been kicked out by War Machine. A nuisance, and one seemingly with a running mouth to boot. Duly noted. Ah. But if they did run into Mrs. Stark, he would have to make his apologies. The individuals outside had advised such, at least, and were perhaps parents of one of the students too? Hmm. Though he hadn't known much of what else to say in the moment either.

However, at least the tour of the facilities was beginning.

While he found it at least somewhat strange still to not be given something akin to a combat briefing or the like, Jason still felt his eyes and ears keeping peeled and taking note. Advantageous roof positions. Certain rooms or other such spots in the hallways that could be used to ambush combatants. Placement of at leasy any potentially visible cameras or detectors or sensors he could tell were about. Windows under which might make for good cover if caught outside of his suit and had to return fire. Even potential bottlenecks for incoming enemy forces in which one could fortify to hold out stood out to him along the way as he and the others were led around the shop. But this was just a general assessment in the overall sense on his part. Just that.

Meanwhile the particular places they had noted to them were also something to take note of. First off, here was the Danger Room, a place for training and yet not without supervision. Locker rooms for changing for such occasions were also nearby. Good to know, but not very advantageous if he couldn't use free time to continue practice and drilling on his own for a time. Would there be a spot for that outside of the Danger Room? He would make sure to inquire about such later. Especially when it came to firearms training and such on his end, he needed the space. Still, the next location would be of more relavent import for the time being.

The Workshop is for the more technologically inclined students of the Academy. Here, you may find a variety of resources and tools to create and maintain whatever your mind can dream up! It's also designed to hold whatever inventions the students may design for safekeeping and quick access in case of emergencies. However, anything designed here has to get the all-clear from Jocasta and War Machine to ensure the device's safety measures.

Workbenches, materials, all assortments of tools, hoists, cables, lifts, if one could name it the thing seemed to be here in one form or another. It was in this vein that Jason felt a small bit of relief as he noticed a particular 'stand' of sorts to the right. It fit the dimensions of his suit, and he had been told beforehand the Academy would have a spot for storage of his suit. Well, and space to work on it and such it seemed. Sure he was no genius, but he had learned about how to care for and field repair his suit at the very least and had looked into it and general engineering more in his off-time (before, but especially after, coming into SHIELD custody). It would be something to do, at least when he wasn't taking time for his cooking training or the like otherwise. Having options was always a good thing in the general sense, he felt, when it came to matters of making use of one's personal time.

Walking over to the 'stand', though, he would initiate the pilot ejection process wordlessly as the suit began to whir and its parts moved and slid open. Looking at a small display the suit gave him, he took note of the 'energy reserves' storage to ensure it was in order before it dissapeared again. All systemms nominal. Reserves acceptable. Internal bio-energy levels at currently well within the 'safe' levels and proper threshold. If it weren't for the fact he reminded himself he was on a tour, the younger man felt himself wanting to just unconsiously move to do some systems tests and other normal post-flight routines. For now, though, he had to keep moving. It was in that vein that the muscular Jason stepped foward a few steps from his suit, stretched a little to ensure his arms and legs were in good order, and then nodded to the Hulk before returning to the other students and the rest of the tour. A skintight black short-sleeved shirt clung to his chest, part of his piloting uniform, though a pair of comfortable but not immodest shorts were on his legs as well. Took quite a lot of coldness to get him to not wear shorts in most weather, actually, though he wasn't going to simply announce such a thing out of the blue to people either.

The Infirmary was certianly another good location to take note of, in case of injuries on-campus or during training or the like, though to be severe enough his body couldn't handle it very well was usually a bad sign of things in the first place. Suitable medical equipment and hopefully staffing to boot, though he didn't feel quite comfortable calling it the 'Nurse's Office' either. Though heading into the office of "Happy" Hogan, the counselor's office of sorts, was at least something to take an at least cursory note of as well. Meanwhile the Cafeteria was certinaly something seemingly fit to feed may students and staff, and he would take especial note of it....and potential alternative entry points in case of emergencies. Beyond this, however, not much was of major note to take other than doing so to ensure he could make it to assigned classes and study as needed. Classrooms, the Headmaster's Office, the Library, and even the spacious Auditorium would be shown to them in turn, and from the loud girl's seeming aversion to the pool and other such things along the way the other students seemed to react to the tour in their own manner as well. Then came the final building they were brought to, that being the Dormitories.

Shared dorms? It was nothing he wasn't used to already, frankly, as they had all been test subjects and had an eye kept on them at all times of day and night. Sure sometimes fights and such broke out, but there had been little privacy. Apparently that was...'taboo' in the rest of the world? Well, perhaps so for non-supersoldier children in all likelihood, he supposed, and for the adults wanting to keep them in-line somehow? It was also standard in other militaries, including that of the US, to enough of an extent it seemed. But still-? Hmm. It felt awkward to try to think of the other angle, really, and so the stoic younger man would simply stare on silently as he had for the entire tour since dropping off his suit in the workshop. Besides, the rooms themselves were frankly a luxurious abode compared to anything he could still remember having lived in, though, and the kitchens in the dorms were of a special note to him. Yes, he could at least practice cooking and eat without having to make his way to the cafeteria on a cover mission to get a bite to eat if his body really needed it after hours.

"All that Stark money couldn't afford a few extra walls?" Her tone was teasing, but ultimately light-hearted.

"I suppose this might give us a chance to get to know each other and possibly collaborate during training sessions. I mean...that's the idea, isn't it?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty.

“A bed’s a bed even if the room is shared.” he spoke out for the first time, surprising even himself not being entirely sure where that had come from.

Hmm. Seemed his peers were taking issue, or perhaps joking, about the way they would be roomed? It was to be expected, perhaps, but it still felt awkward enough he didn't deign to quip about the matter or make a comment otherwise. Though he did glance at those who spoke breifly as they each spoke in turn, pairing what assessments of them he had already with this commentary in turn. Still, a chance to get his things and bring them to the room would be good to ensure he didn't misplace anything.

Pokemon: Dream

Clarissa Ryte

Wailord's Rest Cafe, Industrial District, Byjerfal City

(Urban Exploration)

“Oh, you must be from outta region? You visiting Eidda?” Beryl responded with a friendly, inquisitive tone.

"Er, somewhat I suppose. My family moved to Eidda two years ago from Orre, but I've never seen anywhere outside of the south side of Mireth for the most part..."

“Ah, but Miss Keira - she’s the Gym Leader here. Runs the resort and is a bit of a legend here in Byjerlfal. Friendly enough gal, just uh, don’t get on her bad side or you might end up taking a long walk off the pier. That scary lookin’ guy over there taking bets works for her.”

Eh? EH?! The...Gym Leader? Miss Keira was the gym leader of Byjerfal, and one who seemed to have muscle on-staff and had someone running a betting table here in the cafe? This really was taking a page out of the Orre Rulebook, as it were, especially with something so shady and the potential danger being so real. At the same time, it was simply a surprise to find that sort of reputation outside of someplace like Kanto or Orre or something to her mind. Didn't expect a proper slice of home to appear in front of her as they were going about Byjerfal, but apparently big cities had their own problems. Hmm.

Clarissa's eyes breifly narrowed as bit as she took a breif side glance at the betting table from afar. Trying to be subtle, as it were, or the like.

....As long as the sort of things her parents had lived through back in Orre, the sort of "Shadow Pokemon" crap, didn't pop up she wouldn't stir up trouble where it wasn't needed. In fact, that would be her general rule here if possible, unless a certain gym leader and contest star was dragging her into something funky later. Or, well, perhaps she was just teasing a defenseless girl being crushed in a crowd at an airport. Ugh. Either way, she supposed.

But her gaze would turn back to the friendly cook, baker, and waitress in front of her just in time to hear what came next from Beryl and her admittedly somewhat adorable Wobbuffet.

“I’ll have that special riiiiight out. Don’t you worry. Wobby keep ‘em company would you?”

“Wobbu!” A friendly salute and an excitable grin.

Wobbufett would proceed to take the two to an empty booth, should they want it - though before they could get very far, Clarissa might note that the mood around the betting table had taken on a decidedly less friendly atmosphere…

She didn't need psychic powers to try to figure out how the betting table seemed to feel, but all the same the psychic felt a somewhat cautious vibe in the back of her mind. To that end, she tried to reach out a little bit to get a read on the emotions in the direction of the betting table more specifically. See if she could keep tabs somewhat on the increasingly less-than-friendly atmosphere coming from there already in case anything came their direction. No mind reading, just...trying to keep tabs on the emotional situation there was all a little bit.

Either way she was happy to let the happy Pokemon lead them over to a booth, though along the way even Sir Lopsalot seemed to pick up something of a 'bad vibe' from the table on his own. The Buneary didn't waver in walking next to the Wobbuffet along the way, but his ears seemed to turn toward the table. He'd even glance from the side at it briefly, as if trying to keep tabs on if anything potentially dangerous came in the direction of his trainer. He'd even look to the Wobbuffet breifly to see how the defensive Pokemon reacted to it all, before returning to his own vigil again in turn.

Still, Clarissa had to admit to herself that the smell of cooking food was certainly something pleasing to her nose. The smell of fresh seafood, baked goods cooking in an oven, and the smell of hot frying oils, among other things coming from the direction of the kitchen, were certinaly things that brought a certain sense of calm to mind. Albeit it also made her stomach-

_{*rumble rumble*}

...yeah. She knew that was going to happen again this time at least. But she was still hungry enough from the trip and such thus far, and had not attempted to take up the costly airline snacks. They wanted how much for a simple bag of peanuts?! But she wouldn't lose her cool, and hadn't over the matter either. Just as long as they could get a hot meal in them, pay, and leave without any extra trouble here. Most trouble she wanted to deal with right now was the Murkrow, and they had somewhere to go look for them during the daytime now as well. Perfect for trying to dig up something to catch before the day waxed on too long and she had to book it to the Contest proper.

Though yes, she did need to check and see if Ripley was still willing to wait for her to come back after the contest. Not that he couldn't take up his own business, really, but more just wanting to stick in a group on her part. It was a safety tactic and such even back home, really, and old habits perhaps died hard. Albeit traveling urban or wild landscapes seemed to carry their own dangers here anyways.

"Geez, I'm more hungry than I thought - this place's gotta nice atmosphere, eh?" He pondered allowed, giving Clarissa a nudge with his left foot from across the booth.

The psychic's head had come to rest somewhat on her hands after they'd been properly seated, almost starting blankly down at the table as she'd gone back into thought again. Yet at her compatriot speaking and giving her a subtle nudge, her eyes quickly came back up to look at Ripley without batting an eye. She would likewise keep her tone low and only where she and Ripley could hear, frankly, to try to avoid drawing any notice from those at the betting table. Albeit 'try' was always the best term to use there.

"Yes...a rather interesting atmopshere here really. But it feels more like 'background noise' than anything if we keep to the edges here, perhaps, and don't draw attention or put ourselves in the potential crossfire somehow."

Or draw the ire of the local gym leader at that. Though if it came to a Pokemon battle, for some reason or another, they'd have to be prepared. But a bar fight? Er, that was more random chance if anyone came crashing their direction that needed telekinetically-moved away from hitting them. Worst case she'd have to use her telekinesis to try to protect them otherwise perhaps...and she didn't want to have to really. Not now. Not at the start of everything, and not making any sort of a mess of the nice cafe and most likely Beryl's hard work to boot.

"Bun? Bun. Bun bun?"

At least Sir Lopsalot's ears seemed to be on the job, even if he was trying to chat it up with Beryl's Wobbuffet some more in the meantime. In that vein she was glad he had something to do, though she'd also likely share some bites of food with him when it finally came out fresh and hot. Was a normal habit for the two of them, albeit she'd have to see if Pokemon Centers had any general food for the pokemon of trainers stayying the night there perhaps.

Still, she had to keep her head on her shoulders. Head low. Mouth shut. Keep silent, but stay aware. For a second it really was almost like she was back in Orre again....her home...for better or for worse. Eidda? It...she...well, she didn't know much enough about it yet, really, to comment much at all on anything more than having physically been living in the region for the past two years with her family. Howevver, hopefully the nice hot food would come out and they could eat, pay, and then leave before anything got 'worse' enough. Not that all of this didn't spark some more curiosity in this 'Miss Keira' a bit either on the side, admittedly, for the psychic trainer herself.