Delta44

Delta's Dank Dumping Dungeon of Diabolically Designed Dudes and Dudettes!

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The Red Sparrow Strikes Again!

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Name: Sherri Kopal

Most anticipated Games of 2018-2019

*Chanting "Fire Emblem" in the background*

Your Friendly Neighborhood Government Sanctioned Superheroes

@RumikoOhara Just because you think your issues don't matter doesn't mean they don't exist, and I'd say that's a pretty fucking real thing to make you feel upset, or add fuel to the fire at the very least. I don't think anyone could fault you for feeling upset when you're dealing with that kind of grief <3
I know what going solo for that amount of time feels like, and it's ridiculous nobody has properly approached you or Syd about possible interaction. I should've actually said something beforehand.
And while nobody was exactly forward in asking for interaction, you didn't seem willing to ask any individual person if they wanted to do some sort of interaction, either.

I'm not blaming you at all here, but we all sorely lacked the initiative to do something. I'm not upset by the fact I didn't get to explore character development, it just sucks to see a good RPer go due to something so simple :(
Again, I can't stop you if the worst has been done and you want to leave, but if you want to stick around I have a collab with your name on it ;)

Your Friendly Neighborhood Government Sanctioned Superheroes

@RumikoOhara This sucks because I wrote Eliott into a corner when it comes to Syd ;-; I just got Eliott out of the gym; I know it might be too late, but we can make a collab post if you'd like? ^-^ I planned on having an interaction between the two of them to help with Eliott's personal doubts about people. But I understand if the last straw was already pulled <3 Hope you find a more fitting group otherwise! c:

@Metronome Do we get to see any tentacle dick? :D

The World of Telduria [Always open for applications]

AND

W A R R O O M
S O U T H E R N J E W E L
K R O N - N E S I S

The subtle thud of a closing book pulled those who may not be listening out of their daydream.
"And that concludes this little meeting."
There was not much else he could say to those present. Not without challenging the king's authority, something he felt no need to do. The lecture was short, but important, and best be said for the sake of Illyarion and Azymn. He knew Maryvale understood perfectly, though doubted her highness to follow the same mentality. Even if they asked, they would not receive the information they so desired.
Not yet.
There was a time and place for everything, and one leak, no matter how small, could spell disaster for everyone.

He left without another word.

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The Dark Knight understood the role of duty well. She had been raised by principle, discipline, and order. No matter how her heartstrings wished they could embrace in a temporary hug, now was not the time nor place. There was a rule among when you could show yourself a soldier and show yourself a human being. It was only in private, outside of her line of work, that Lenius embraced Maryvale as his daughter; all other times they would maintain a strictly professional attitude to one-another.
That didn't mean, however, that she enjoyed the professionalism all the time.
Even so, there would come an opportunity for them to meet again. Her father was the smartest and strongest man she knew, and not only because of how he acted as a leader. His person as a human being, outside of the duty of Grand Marshal, was compassionate, loving, and incredibly approachable. Personal. It was why so many would much sooner ride under his name than the King's.

With Lenius gone and their orders provided, it was now just a matter of when. The Dark Knight, still formal in stance and attitude alike, referred to her liege for guidance. "I would suggest leaving early. I see no reason not to leave, and your life would be in more danger here than on the road."
Assassins, as most referred to them, were a common threat to the royalty, particularly to Princess Azymn. With Maryvale's blade by her side, they would forever be unable to claim their mark, so long as her retainer was always attentive. That was one of her specialties.
Azymn, it would seem, couldn't help but agree to the plan.
"Maryvale, I know you hate it here, but you don't need to hide it around me."
"Your sense of humor is blander than this entire palace."
"Charming as ever."

The princess gave a light chuckle before expressing a more serious attitude. "Sir Myriavin, I suppose you and your men should get equipped, assuming you wish to join us?" She was quick to divert attention, however, wanting to make sure their doctor was properly addressed. "Likewise, doctor, unless you have anything in particular you would like to pick up now rather than on our way?"
It wouldn't do if nobody was prepared, especially their most important companions. Despite Maryvale's skill as a knight, even with her raw magical power, she couldn't protect Azymn and fight back simultaneously. With their answers provided, those who needed preparation went their own way. Those that were ready needed only wait...

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N O R T H G A T E
S O U T H E R N J E W E L
K R O N - N E S I S

"I hate riding."
The northern gate of Kron-Nesis was attracting a small expeditionary force, and, as one would expect, a crowd of people. With such faces as the Princess of Kron-Nesis and the Strongest Knight, it was hard to avoid the publicity. Many expressed their worries of whether they would be seeing the Princess again, to which she always replied in kind that she would - she would promise them.
Those who worried for Maryvale generally didn't speak up for fear of pissing her off.

Never the greatest rider, Maryvale couldn't quite handle horses well. No matter how much her father tried, she could never escape the realm of mediocrity when it came to riding horses, both on and off the battlefield. In fact she was often noted being better on the field than off, for some strange reason. It was frustrating to her that a royal retainer, one of the strongest in Kron-Nesis and arguably the wider world, couldn't even ride a damn horse well.
"Ugh... End me."
"You'll be fine," cheered Azymn, "it's not like this is your first time riding. Like with your literacy, you've made many, many improvements!"
"And many, many mistakes."
"Yes, well, failure is the best teacher! You'll find your secret someday, Maryvale."
The pep talk didn't make her feel much better, so she decided to change subjects.
"How much longer must we wait?" She quizzed, doing her best to not sound impatient. Though many would find it hard to tell behind her helm, Azymn could easily pick out the smaller details to understand Maryvale's mood. It had been a small challenge in the past but a useful skill now that the two had grown up and Maryvale more commonly used her helmet.
Unfortunately, the princess couldn't give her a definite answer.

"That is hard to say, but I wouldn't say long. Our comrades seem to be getting the last of our foodstuffs. This journey, despite our smaller size, will still be a long one. I hope you're prepared to ride a lot."
Maryvale groaned.
Catching her retainer's discomfort, Azymn attempted to remedy the situation by pulling her over to a map. The ride from the Southern Jewel to Lyserene was a relatively simple and straightforward one. Caravans and roads were well-established along the plains of Kron-Nesis, allowing a swift transit from point A to point B. The real issue came from bandits, denizens of the dark, or even scouting parties from the Darakeene Protectorate. While not necessarily an issue around the capital, the further from the Southern Jewel one got, particularly to the north, the worse these instances would occur, both in severity and rarity. Even with the Ravenguard with them, one could always be careful along any road, no matter the kingdom.
Of course, the plains were the faster option, and would serve as how the bulk of the main forces headed north would be reaching Lyserene. Presumably the larger divisions would operate under the cover of darkness, however a smaller band didn't require as much secrecy, as it was less likely to attract the eyes of the Protectorate as well as bandits.
However, there was always the fear of particular fae which could slaughter the likes of them...

"The inland path is the best." Maryvale announced in a confident tone of voice, a finger trailing along the center of the large Teldurian map. While each of the three primary paths -- mountains, inland, and seaside -- each had their respective dangers, in Mayvale's mind it was the inland which almost guaranteed safety and speed. "It is well-developed, and though susceptible to bandits, we are less likely to encounter scouts. Though all three will possibly have creatures of the wilderness, our horses should be able to outpace and outmatch them. Because of this, we can afford to travel with the sun overhead, however we wouldn't want to run out of supplies while we're out there. Plus, we can clear out any problems the Grand Marshal's forces may come across, so-"
"Maryvale?"
"Mmh?"
The princess couldn't help but giggle somewhat. "You're talking about maps again."

Despite the black helmet which covered her face, it didn't take a genius to know that Maryvale was partly embarrassed. Her body language in particular gave it away when she turned her head to the side and cleared her throat. "S-sorry..."
Azymn shook her head. "It's quite alright, dear, just know that we're leaving now."
"Hey, why didn't you-"
Again, Maryvale would find herself cut off as Azymn left the tent, leaving the Dark Knight to pack up the maps for transport. There was no rallying speech to attend for a smaller group such as they, so she had to be quick in making sure she didn't miss anything. After a quick search, she loaded up her material, and mentally prepared for a long ride.

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P L A I N O U T S K I R T S
J O S T
K R O N - N E S I S

Dressed in cloth and working metal, the small farming community of Jost lived lives of peace and tradition. Bordering a large lake, this town had been settled along the vast plains of the middle of Kron-Nesis, and was the first stop on their journey. As nightfall began to set in, the company would need a suitable place to stay, if only for the Princess. While she herself had no particular claims to sleeping in town, the people themselves held the royal family as well as the military in high regard, and was almost always the first stop north of the capital. There was no real reason not to stop in town.

Tents were erupting left and right as the group began setting up for the night. Everyone had their orders, and everyone was making sure they could help out in some way or another. However, Azymn and Maryvale had their own tasks to accomplish.
Maryvale was in search of Illyarion to discuss potentially scouting further than the town. She knew he probably already thought of this, however thought it best to ask what he was ordering his spare men to do. If there were bandits nearby, it would be best to deal with them quickly, as she overheard some of the townsfolk mention something along their lines.
Azymn, on the other hand, was in search of Pox. While her skills as a healer were adequate, she was lacking in the healing arts outside of all things magical. Some of the townsfolk of Jost mentioned a kind of sickness going around. She thought it best to see if her doctor could do anything about it, or at least give the poor souls any idea as to what it was.

Dusk was setting in, and like the dragon legend of old, destruction would soon follow...

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@Claw2k11@ShwiggityShwah

Your Friendly Neighborhood Government Sanctioned Superheroes

Hi there! @RedxCross and I would love to make Character sheets if you guys are still open!

We'll start ASAP - loving everyone else's character sheets so far!

@Write

As far as I'm aware our open policy hasn't changed, so go for it ;)

The Skies of Elysia: Airships, Aliens, and Adventure (Closed)

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AWAKENING

A collaboration between @Claw2k11 & @Delta44
[WARNING: LONG AS FUCC]

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AND

”Ugh, you fat sonova-”
Why did the Captain make her do all the difficult work?
Terersg was not a place Pidgeon would’ve liked to pull apart her prize. However, it certainly beat having the vultures of the Reiksgard trying to swoop in and steal the goods. While the Reiksgard was off doing Gods knew what, Pidgeon was stuck in a maintenance bay on the desert planet, made from the hull of yet another ship. Sometimes ships broke down on arrival. It was only natural to have some sort of place to repair your only way off-planet. Crime wasn’t a problem on Terersg so much as anywhere else in the surrounding area, as little as there was. It would give her the peace and quiet to do what she wanted.
Still, she wished at least Tammy or Dace could’ve come…

With a not-so-powerful pull, the teen finally managed to dislodge the heavy bot from his craft. He, like his airship, was in a bad state: plasma burns, shattered metal plates, missing screws and the like. At the very least his limbs looked OK. Tammy would appreciate some cool robo arms, knowing how poor her own chassis was. She made sure to look him over before scrapping him, but from the looks of things, he was a pretty dead bot.
Welp, couldn't help that.
Airships were her specialty, not bots. She just lacked the spark for such things. Sure, she could weld on or off a limb or something, but a lot of the inner mechanisms she wasn’t sure of. Maybe someone on Terersg would take care of him.

”You’re… SO… HEAVY!” Grunted the ace, tugging him across the wing of his own ship. She wasn't exactly the muscular type, so all this tugging really got her whole body aching. ”Grrgh… My back hurts so goddamn much… This is your fault, you know? Bucket o’ bolts, just come… OVER… HE- oh SHIT!”
Pothole.
The young pilot crashed, falling flat on her face and gently rocking the fighter from the force. The sound of sparks and snapping of raw electricity against metal hit her ears, and she immediately whizzed around.
He was touching live cables. Electrically charged, exposed, deadly cables. Pidgeon’s heart sank.
’Aww crap…

The electricity surged through MR38’s body, the systems that were not fried by the damage he had suffered from the incoming fire, were turned on and his last memory played before him, the pirates attack, the death of his own creator. He felt rage well up inside him, and as his eyes adjusted once more, he preemptively went into Stage 3 and spawned two plasma pistols in each hand and pointed them towards whoever was pulling him from his ship.

Only to see that it was young girl attempting to pull him away. All of his logic processors told him that the odds that this little girl was a pirate was very small, however, with the pistols still in his hands, he asked the girl:

”Who are you, where am I?” he asked her, still pointing his guns at her, if she wasn’t a pirate, she was probably a scavenger and he would not let anyone pick him, or the ship of his creator for parts, even from someone as her.
It didn’t take him long to get an answer.
”O-oh, err, Pidgeon, and you’re on top of your ship which is on top o’ the sand which belongs to Terersg!”
A very long and complex answer, but one nonetheless. Pidg often didn’t react well in situations where weapons were pointed at her, particularly when they came as suddenly as they just had. She raised her hands and did her best to not appear threatening, but when you’ve got a pistol at your hip and look like trash, it could come across as hostile to some.

Her mind was desperate to get a plan going, something to keep her alive. It wasn’t like her to confront someone in a situation like this. In the air maybe, but not in a near-empty hanger on a burning wasteland. Adrenaline immediately began pumping into her system; she needed to think.

”I see.” He answered plainly, slowly lowering his pistols. The girl was not a threat to him, the pistol on her belt would not work very well against him, even as damaged as he was. ”Are you a scavenger, girl, or are you just someone who enjoys pulling random automatons from wreckages?” Had it been physically possible for him to squint at the girl he would have.

He looked around for a few moments to his surroundings as his memories played in the back of his head once more, the sudden pirate attack, the pirates boarding the ship, the death of his creator. The moment his creator came to his mind, his head snapped back at the girl.

”Girl, was there another body in the ship?!” He asked her rather suddenly. His mind hoped that there was at least a tiny chance that Moro had survived the crash, and even if not, then at least he would deserve a proper burial, not left to rot here in the middle of the desert.

Another body?
Pidgeon shook her head.
”N-no, no, there wasn’t anyone else! You were the only thing around aside from the ship…” Her voice trailed off. With a nervous undertone, she added: ”Th-that’s why I fixed you, eheheh~! You looked so alone and stuff, all dead and whatnot, I just had to try and get you back online! Hopefully that little shock didn’t hurt too much?
Gods, she was an awful liar sometimes. She couldn’t forge a lie to save her life, but when it came to her instincts, sometimes she could come up with something believable enough on the spot. The teen cleared her throat and tried to calm herself, now that she wasn’t having pistols aimed at her. ”A-and it’s the second one. I like looking at wrecks n’ stuff, see what I can play with. I was considering looking over your ship for parts if I couldn’t, err, bring ya back. For my own beauty.”

The Raptor was nearby, a small craft which… looked quite ugly, in all honesty. It was as though someone slapped anything that worked onto it, with turbines in the mid-wing, plasma cannons in front, a magic rear-engine. It certainly didn’t look like anything else out there, though original designs weren’t exceptionally rare in Elysia. The Gunslinger and Raptor were still attached via cable, though it was a wonder how her smaller craft could’ve brought the Gunslinger to the maintenance bay.

”Or in other words, you were planning take me and the Gunslinger apart and use us for spare parts.” MR38 mentally sighed. He figured that he could probably take the ship of the scavanger before him with relative ease, considering her weaponry, however, her friends might be nearby and he didn’t really want to risk a dogfight in the shape he currently was right now. ”Ok then, I am going to need your help here, Pidgeon.” He said, reverting back to Stage 1, both because there was no threat nearby and because his essence was very low at the moment and he could not afford to pass out again, lest the girl before him picked him apart for anything valuable he might have.

”Could you help me take my ship over here to the nearest repair bay so that I can get both the ship and myself out of here and to the nearest...” He searched in his memories, there was somewhere where he had to go, somewhere where he belonged, the place from which his creator was. His memory, like many parts of his system were damaged, he could not remember where he needed to go or where he belonged. ”... safe haven.” He continued, not wishing to seem like he spaced out all of a sudden.

Pidgeon decidedly ignored the part where he saw through her plan, and instead focused on his peculiar request. This planet was as safe as any she knew, perhaps safer in spite of the lack of enforcement. Maybe he didn’t know this place? Or perhaps his memory was damaged?
Still, maintenance was more or less the best place to get a ship in working condition. She wasn’t sure about bots though. ”If you want both those things, you’re already in the right place to find ‘em.” She stated plainly, not quite sure how to approach the situation, however given he seemed calmer she assumed he was willing to be friendly. ”If you’ve got money then ya can get yourself repaired right ‘ere. Seeg’ll patch ya ship up right as rain if you can’t, for a price. If you can do it yourself then it’s free though.”

She seemed to relax herself, as she shifted her hands to her pockets, entering a slouch. ”Terersg is safer than most places. You should be fine here.”

”Considering my ship was attacked by pirates before I crashed, I do not entirely believe you on the safety of this place.” As he spoke to the girl, he tried again and again to access his memory to see where he should go, however, he was drawing a blank, he knew he had to go somewhere, but he did not know where. ”Bring your friend over here to fix me and my ship, I figure my creator won’t need the credits he had stored in me anymore considering he’s dead now.” He said, slightly saddened that he was not able to save Moro, still it was his duty to get himself repaired and back home, wherever home was. ”I figure that about 150.000 energy credits would work for your friend to fix me and the ship up?”

Honestly, he didn’t really trust the girl all that much, nor did he trust whatever friends she had, however, he didn’t really have any other choice at the moment. He would have to leave his and his ship’s fate in Pidgeon and her friend’s hands. If they would get the better of him, then at least, he could die knowing that the Gunslinger responded only to him and Moro, making it useless, even if they fixed it.

There was only one problem with that.
Little did he know, Pidgeon’s friends weren’t around. In fact, she wouldn’t know where they were until she got back in her craft and turned on the radio, and even then may not have the reception.
Not that MR38 needed to know that…
”Oi! Seeg!” She called to one of the nearby… things. She wasn’t quite sure what to call them, but they sure as Hell weren’t human. One little feller came along and almost tripped on the cord between the two ships, however managed to right himself before gravity could take him down. ”Fix my, err, friend’s ship up would ya? And maybe give ‘im a scrub? He’s kinda… broken.”

The little midget nodded and quickly ran to a few other Seegs, where he talked gibberish for a bit. Apparently they understood what he was talking about, and began talking on small radios similar to walkie-talkies. Those that were here began amassing a collection of tools for repair. Pidg knew that more were on the way.
Repairing ships was a Seeg forte. Little else in Elysia could beat their handiwork.

As the little things began repairing his ship, a large warning popped up in his mind. His batteries were nearly depleted, so with yet another mental sigh. It seems that the time to test the young girl’s trustworthiness had come, either that, or he could try and stand up until he would deactivate either way.

”Ok then, Pidgeon, I’m going to enter a stand-by mode to preserve energy, however, if you try to mess with me, or the ship, I’ll come back to life and you’ll live just long enough to regret it.” He lied to her. He didn’t have a stand-by mode, he was either activated or not, and if he was out cold, there was no way he could know if the girl messed either with him or the ship, he just hoped the girl was clueless when it came to automatons and would only patch him up a bit.

Which he was both right and wrong about. Pidgeon didn’t know anything about automatons, but she couldn’t guarantee he would feel the same. The Seeg had already started cheerily jumping about in preparation, grabbing materials, tools, and vehicles to repair the Gunslinger. MR38 was dogpiled by the mini engineers, taken from the ship to be worked on separately. Pidgeon did her best to help out where she could on the Gunslinger, figuring that it would help getting to know his ship. She knew ships better than people most of the time - why would that change now?

The process took several hours, for both the Gunslinger and for MR38. Whatever the Hell the Seeg were doing to repair MR38, they were taking their bloody time with it! She recalled seeing sparks and panic, and a lot of tinkering. A large, yellow canister had been inserted somewhere inside of him - she could only assume the Seeg knew what they were doing. It had to be a battery of sorts; perhaps it had overloaded his systems? Whatever it was, it extended his repairs to be a lot longer than it should’ve been. The Gunslinger wasn’t quite ready yet, but she knew it could at least fly. Well? Probably not. But it could fly!

The Seeg which were working on the bot soon switched priorities, from the automaton to his ship. The last one did something which caused him to glow for a moment, before running off to join the others. She had a rough idea of what they told her: he would be online soon, but had a problem. Just a little bug involving trust, however they assured Pidgeon no harm would come of it.
Probably.

For MR38, not even a second passed since he had been turned offline, however, now, he felt differently. The Seeg’s had repaired his body as best as they could, and it seems they even powered him up once again, however, there was something odd going on with his memory, however, since he could not really place what it was, he rose to his feet and turned towards Pidgeon, his master.

His master? He shook his head and poked once again through his memory, there were odd gaps in it, but the memories that he did remember, did indeed point to her being his creator, his master. However, no matter how much he tried, his memories would not work for him. Not only were there gaps in his memories, but the ones that were already there, were a corrupted and jumbled mess. The crash must have done him in quite badly if not even the Seegs could fix him.

The teenager watched as her new bot acquaintance had come back from the dead, revived by the magical healing properties of Seeg integrity and engineering. She didn’t say anything, only raised a brow at him, as though to egg him on. With his face now reconstructed, she could make out what he was trying to convey from that alone. He was… confused? And definitely worried.

“Are you fine there, master?” He asked Pidgeon as he approached her. “Are you hurt?”

Master…?
Wha…?
His approach was noted, but he wasn’t pulling any sort of plasma guns on her, so she wasn’t particularly worried. ”Eeeeasy there, buddy, easy.” She raised her arms, not out of defence, but to apparently try and calm him, steady him. ”You’ve just been repaired, everything’s cool, just nice and easy… Obviously you’re thinkin’ a little different from before.”
It took her a moment to realise that he’d asked her some questions. The trouble was, she wasn’t quite sure how to actually respond. It was hard enough trying to piece together why she had suddenly become his “Master”.
”B-but yeah, I’m good. Just, uh, repairing your ship with the Seeg’ here.”
For some indescribable reason, she felt awkward. Awkward and confused, although the second emotion was far more easily justified.

To call MR38 confused right now, would have been an understatement. From the look of things, Pidgeon seemed to be as confused as he was right now and the fact that his memories were a mess was certainly not helping with things. He only assumed that the crash had caused her some brain damage as well, causing some memory loss as well. He shook his head once more, he would fix things once they would get back home.

”Come, master, we need to get back home.” He said, as his sensors came online once more, though from the look of things were quite iffy. However, he could sense something in orbit… ships, and a lot of them, they were in danger. ”Let’s go, Pidgeon, the people in orbit don’t seem very friendly!” He instantly went in Stage 4 as the ships approached the planet and in his mind, he prepared himself for combat.

The people in orbit weren’t friendly? He had damn good sensors in him if he could tell that from the surface.
Pidgeon didn’t hesitate, and ran straight for her craft. Though most would expect a smooth transition from ground to air, the young ace was forced to contend with her own mechanical flaws, specifically a particular bar which opened the window to the cockpit. She jumped on it again and again, before finally the cockpit opened to greet her.
Slamming her on the chin. Ouch.
She fell backwards onto her back, but got up without much trouble, despite being winded. ”Fine! I’m… I’m fine…!” She coughed as she clambered into her craft, flicking switches and turning on the engines. Before she closed the glass casing and buckled in, however, she called out to the bot:

”Oi! Get in your ship, lets check this out! Err… what was your name again?”

”MR38, or Specter, if it’s easier for you!” He called back to her and wasted no time in getting back into the Gunslinger. It took a few moments for the shipt to get back online considering the damage it had received, however, now, though it was still fairly damaged, its engines were online and best of all, its weapons were online, at least, they would not go down without a fight!

And with a roar of the engines, the gunship lifted itself off the ground and started flying right after Pidgeon’s ship, hopeful that they would reach their home before whoever was in orbit would.