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Hello!

I'm Pollen, hope you're not allergic. I like writing a myriad of characters in all kinds of genres, so I'm pretty much down for anything roleplay-wise.

Come talk with me if you want! I'm friendly.

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Again, Vol landed a direct hit, and again, the girl was merely winded by his assault. Now this was honestly perplexing. He could understand a well-trained and tough mammal being lucky enough to withstand a hit from him, but this had been twice in a row, now, and the second time he'd actually been serious. This one was on a different level than the others, even the ones who had used powers beyond their ordinary capabilities. Either she was using a very old and very powerful magic, or she was, like him, a different being than her outward appearance would indicate.

His foot came down again with enough force to crack the asphalt, but his challenger managed to hold on nevertheless, and was still within his reach. Vol knew he could hit harder than this if he used his magic as well as his strength, but if she took this little damage from a powerful hit, then adding more brute force probably wasn't going to do much. Time to start using his head, then. She could take blunt blows from him without any serious injury, which meant a very high degree of shock absorption. But how could she handle cutting edges?

Hissing like a snake, the lizard king lashed out at Vincy with his left arm. Instead of a fist, however, he struck with an open hand. He'd grab at her head, curling his fingers around it with crushing force, and try to dig his razor-sharp black claws into her skull.
In Over 9 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
The first thought that occurred to Maya as her weight was decupled and the ship beneath her began to creak and groan was that a rogue alchemist was attacking. The Bloodlines had seemed calm enough (by their standards) a moment ago, and the Asylums were supposed to be protecting the boat. But it only took her a moment to trace the alchemic drive, and it was coming from them. From the little girl, of all people. That, and it was much too strong to be any old asylum.

It appeared that her partner had managed to piss off a Chrono. Wouldn't be the first time... but as she turned to him, she found him looking back at her, grinning. Not only that, but he was standing entirely straight against the gravity. She'd been almost knocked over by the initial push, and had to lean on the railing for support, but Dancer hadn't so much as flinched. There was no way he could have resisted it so well unless he was ready for it.

The truth dawned on her. "You," she said, her voice utterly deadpan, "you did this on purpose."

Dancer rolled his eyes. "Right, it's my fault that a fucking Chrono can't handle having her feathers ruffled. That girl needs a smacked bottom."

Song was giving him a death stare, now. "Doesn't matter. If the Bloodlines get killed, that's a mission failure. We had a streak going, and you may well have ruined it."

"Pffft. As if AMRO would stick that little bitch on something as sensitive as this without a way of controlling her. She'll have a handler, or a fucking microchip or some shit." As if to confirm his words, a strangely dressed man moved towards the Chrono, apparently speaking. "See? Kids are so damn easy to manipulate. Watch, I'll piss her off again!" He raised his hands to his mouth once more.

Then stopped, as he caught a gleam of metal out the corner of his eye, and realized that Maya had pulled a knife on him. A very sharp knife, pointed at a very sensitive location. His hands slowly dropped to his sides. "Coward."

Maya cocked her head to one side. "Shall I put you on a leash again? Or can we do this the easy way?"

"Fuck tha-" There was a popping noise, and one of Dancer's knees buckled. He caught himself before he fell, one arm slamming against the railing as he struggled to hold himself up. His knee joint had been dislocated by the weight, and the pain showed on his face. "...fine." He scowled at her. "But you owe me for this. I keep quiet for this thing, and you get AMRO to give me a damn rocket launcher."

She sighed inwardly. Then nodded. "You do your best, I'll do mine."

The gravity lifted, and the deck swayed as the cruise ship bobbed back up to its original position. Song stood at attention as the other Asylums boarded, while Dancer took the opportunity to sit down and wrench his knee back into position. It'd need proper medical attention later, but for now his alchemy would keep him upright- and more importantly, while he was concentrating on it he was less likely to mouth off.

Everyone appeared to be taking the whole gravity-crush incident rather well, and the Chrono's partner put on a good show of reigning them in. Song re-established her connection with her sigils, letting images from around the ship flood into her eyes once more. They'd come close to chaos, but it appeared that the majority here were sane enough to keep things from devolving into a war for now.

Dancer tapped her on the shoulder. She blinked, and looked in front of her to find that the Chrono's partner was standing before them. A warning rang out, echoing in her mind as if it had been planted there. She clapped her hands together. "Yes Sir!" Then gave a swift, sharp bow of her head. "Of course, Sir!"

The motions were exaggerated, meant to draw the man's eyes away from her partner while performing a subtle Motem cast, creating illusions over Dancer's hands and mouth. This was to conceal the fact that he was flipping Angel the bird, while mouthing the words 'fuck you.' Fortunately, Song could cast very quickly, and the gestures were masked entirely. To anyone looking, it would appear that Jim was standing with his hands at his sides and his mouth tight shut.

She looked over at him, taking pains to conceal all mental and physical signs of her annoyance. "Come on. We should rendezvous with the other Asylums, get some idea of who we're working with."

Dancer nodded, and fell in line with her as she headed roughly towards the other Asylums, taking care to steer well away from the Chrono. A mental message crossed the link between them, one of the rare times Jim didn't open his mouth. You should stick a mirage on that guy. Make his nose look like a-

NO!
People were taking a while to post so I posted. Hope it is okay.
The armored man was surrounded. Two with swords at his front, covering his left and right sides, a third circling behind him with an axe. He turned, wary, trying and failing to keep all three of his leather-clad opponents in his line of sight.

Two of them struck at once, a blade and an axe scything through the air at him as their wielders closed, seeking to catching him from both sides at once. The man made no effort to block. He was unarmed, but the thick plate he wore absorbed the blows, barely even denting as the two weapons slammed into it. Grinning beneath his visor, he charged forwards, slamming a gauntlet into an attacker's face and prompting a collective gasp from the watching crowd.

Some distance away, from atop a raised chair with an excellent view of the ongoing battle, Rosa Mariane watched their reaction, and was pleased. Putting on an impressive show paid big dividends. Even if the sight of a man shrugging off sword blows didn't impress her buyer, it'd certainly impress the other men (and occasional woman) of means who saw it. That would mean more potential dealings, pressure on her original target from his peers, and most importantly, tales and rumors of the invincible armor spreading throughout the land.

The plate was good, of course- she had the resources now to hire some truly skillful blacksmiths, and had ensured that this armor in particular was of the highest quality. She'd also made sure that the weapons currently being used against it were not so well-made, and were of the kind that didn't fare well against armor in general. But of course, the crowd didn't know that, and when they spoke of this moment in the following days and weeks, they'd exaggerate as far as they could.

Secondary effects aside, however, she appeared to have won over the man she'd hoped to. A young lord of a small domain of Thule, whose father had died on the battlefield some months earlier. According to rumor, he was itching for vengeance, and showing off shiny armor and weapons for him practically guaranteed her a deal. It wasn't the main reason she'd come here, but it was a nice bonus.

Noticing that her gaze had drifted his way, the young ruler shifted in his seat, and nodded to her. "I cannot deny it, the craftsmanship is excellent."

She flashed him a smile for that. Not the wicked kind, but a genuine one, or a least a very good imitation of it. "Good eye, my lord. Plate of this caliber is hard to come by- and men to match it, harder still. The armor is a powerful weapon, yes, but its true value lies in the warriors it may serve to protect."

A ploy of sorts. If this man knew his generals, his captains, the men who'd proven their worth in battle, he would be thinking of them. Or perhaps thinking of his father. The lives of heroes were far harder to dismiss than a shiny suit of metal. It made her offer more enticing, while at the same time painting her in a more positive light.

She could see his eyebrows rise, as he considered the implications, and noticed that the merchant of coins and death was extolling the value of human life. "I cannot deny that." She had his full attention now, as he turned further towards her, raising one hand to his chin and making eye contact. "And your arms? They are of similar quality?"

"Certainly, my lord." She gestured gently at the crowd, who were cheering now as the armored fighter rounded on his last standing opponent. "Ask anyone who has heard my name, and they'll tell you of the kingdoms carved out with my blades." She was exaggerating about the quality, perhaps, it would be far too expensive to produce masterworks en masse, even with the prices she could get for them. However, she was betting that what she had was better than anything they could easily get their hands on around here, and anyone clever enough to tell the difference between a good sword and a magnificent one would also be clever enough to know how much good ones were needed. "When you succeed in your conquests, I can return here, and offer further weapons. It is in my interests. Besides..." Her tone and expression grew a little more tender. "I do have a certain affection for this place and its people. They're hardy, and kind at heart. A strong army and a good ruler would do them well."

That last part was utter bullshit, but it was a lie she could sell. For one thing, her earlier words concerning the armor would have induced doubt as to her supposed ruthlessness. For another, she was a woman, and men liked to believe that women were kind and filled with emotion. Especially pretty ones. Another thing she'd learned to be good at feigning.

Sure enough, he was smiling at her. "You are right indeed, this kingdom shall prosper with every battle won. Perhaps our contract could ensure that this occurs..." He was thinking again, remembering the offer she'd send to him, all the numbers and goods and prices, laid out on paper. "I must say, however, the amount you ask for may be... taxing, for my domain, and its people."

Exactly as intended. She'd put together a rough estimate of how much he'd be able to afford, and had gone slightly over that. "I understand, my lord." She let slip the tiniest bit of concern in her voice. "There is more to governing than winning wars, even in these hard times. Perhaps I should have given more consideration to this." Submission, letting him feel like he was in control. "However... perhaps we can strike an alternative bargain, my lord?"

He gestured. "Do tell."

"I can cut the amount in coin by one-fourth, my lord, if you would grant me a small gift. Do you know of a man named Rantham Darrow?"

Her buyer nodded, frowning. "The alchemist. I know of him. You wish to recruit him, then?"

Rosa smiled. "Indeed, my lord."

"The man is not without value. His kind produced great devices, war-winning creations of fire and thunder. He has knowledge, valuable knowledge, and it is my hope that he could craft such weapons in my service, given time."

"If I may ask, has he, my lord? No doubt you have given him resources, but what has he produced in return? Perhaps a few fiery tricks, perhaps even useful ones, but nothing like you hear about in the tales." Based on his expression, and the slight shifting of his fingers, she wasn't far off the mark. "There is only so much one man can do. Give him to me, however, and I'll pair him with his fellows, give him all the books and powders he needs. He will produce alchemy of pure lightning, the kind of weapons no barbaric foe can possibly stand against- weapons that I can bring to you and your allies."

It was a dangerous choice, for him. If he gave her the alchemist, there was a chance the weapons the man produced in Rosa's service would one day be used against his armies, by others who had dealt with her. On the other hand, if he didn't, it was likely that her alchemists would make her something devastating regardless- and she'd sell it to his enemies, rather than the man who had spurned her offer.

"Very well," he said after a while, "I will consider this. You are certain the alchemist will go with you?"

Rosa smiled. "I'll make sure of it, my lord."
The moment his strike made contact, Vol could tell something was wrong. Why did he not hear the cracking of bone as his strength battered ribs, why did the mammal girl not collapse from the pain? His eyes narrowed. He should have been able to guess from her clothes: the ones who tried to fight him clad in bright colors had proven trickier than their fellow mammals, some possessing minor magic. Either that white suit of hers was a form of disguised armor, or she was simply tougher than the others. The thought pleased him. His brief conflicts here had barely been enough of a challenge to get his blood running, but perhaps this one could actually take a few strikes before falling.

The shapeshifter's reptilian form did in fact have genitalia, though they were different from those of humans. These were covered by a tight-fitting pair of shorts made out of the lizard's own shed scales, which made it appear as if it wore nothing at all and was simply sexless. A blow there would certainly have hurt, if delivered with enough force, but Vol had not been caught completely off his guard.

The girl's resilience had been unexpected, but the moment she took to regain her balance gave him time enough to reconcile this. Vol was not one to stand around sputtering at a simple surprise, not after having lived so long and seen so many strange things before. Though he did not immediately follow up his initial blow, when the counterattack came, he was ready for it.

He didn't know exactly where she was aiming at, but he could hazard a guess. The sheer height of his current form made it difficult for smaller creatures to target his head and shoulders, and because of this they tended to aim for his knees, stomach, or groin. Those were actually somewhat difficult to defend with his powerful arms, but his legs, on the other hand...

An advantage in height also translated into an advantage in reach, and Vol made full use of this as his prey came running towards him. He leaned back slightly as his right leg came whipping forwards, his knee moving up and to the left before his lower leg snapped outwards, kicking hard at the girl's side. Unlike his previous swiping blow, Vol put some effort into this one, knowing that more force would be necessary to hurt the girl. If all went well, he'd knock her aside with his kick before she got a chance to land whatever attack she was making, and break her with the impact of his full strength.
In Over 9 yrs ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Out on the deck of the cruise ship, far away from the squabbling Bloodlines, two figures leaned against the railing facing the docks.

The taller one, a towering older man wearing a stiff suit as grey as his close-cropped hair, was looking decidedly bored as he fidgeted with his hands, cracking his knuckles one by one. "Are they fucking here yet?"

The girl next to him had her arms folded atop the railing, and remained completely still as she stared off into the distance, as if lost in a daydream. "No."

"Little shits." The man scowled. "Is this what we are now? Fucking babysitters?"

"They're not all that young. Which you'd know if we'd actually gone to the briefing-"

"Oh yes, I'd have loved to go and eat ice cream with the bloody AMRO Girl Scouts! Such a fucking shame we were too busy..." He paused, squinting. "What the fuck were we supposed to be doing again?"

"Keeping an eye on the ship." The girl's tone was distracted, as if she were only barely paying attention to the conversation.

Her companion barreled on regardless, nodding to himself. "That's right. Standing guard, making sure the Magic Mafia behave themselves." He paused, glancing towards her. "You are keeping an eye on them, right?"

"Mmm."

"Good. That lot needs even more babysitting than the soft-serve brigade. Fucking Bloodlines..."

Maya Song tuned her partner out as he rambled on about the childishness and stupidity of the various families. She could tell him that they were probably listening in, but she doubted that Jim Dancer would particularly care. He was a pot calling kettles black, in this case, but she was happy to let him rant on as he pleased, so long as he didn't disturb her real focus.

A pair of carefully-hidden sigils were pulling in and capturing light from all around where the Bloodlines were gathered, feeding a stream of images to the brown-haired Asylum leaning against the railing. More versatile and less noticeable than security cameras, and also less likely to be hacked. It was a tricky piece of alchemy, however, and Dancer was feeling the drain. His constant stream of complaints and insults were his way of holding onto his sanity, and served as a barometer for her to tell just how worked up he was getting.

For now, he was okay, relatively speaking. The Bloodlines were being antagonistic as usual, but they weren't doing anything quite nasty enough to warrant intervention just yet. All she had to do was keep everything copacetic until-

"They're here."

Letting her surveillance drop out of focus for a moment, Maya looked down towards the docks, easily picking out the rapidly approaching band of Asylums. They certainly weren't hard to distinguish, even from a distance. She glanced towards Jim. "Be polite, okay?"

"Right." Even as he said this, Dancer was looking at the other AMRO operatives with a look of utter disdain on his face. Before Song could do anything to stop him, he'd cupped his hands around his mouth, and roared down at them as they neared the cruiser.

"GET ON FUCKING BOARD!"
@Dead Cruiser

I figured the current state of things would be pretty hard for merchants, which is why I had her start with criminal elements, and why she's seeking stability... still, it seems I underestimated just how bad things are.

Edited profile below, now with more pirates!

Profile done!

Feet pattered against the ground, a half-dozen quick staccato beats of rubber on asphalt as the few officers lucky enough to get away from the battle ran for their lives. They were sweating, panting hard, fear and adrenaline pushing their bodies to the limit. It was likely that none of these people had even run so fast in their lives- but still, the steady pounding behind them kept on getting louder. The beast was closing.

Tired, outmatched, and terrified, it was only a matter of time before one of them broke. Unable to run any further, the last officer turned around, drawing a handgun and getting off three desperate shots before the lizard slammed him aside with a single swipe of its arm.

Without missing a beat, Vol Lok Ra prowled onward, caught up in the thrill of the hunt. This was supposed to be his escape, but the forces trying to corner him had been thrown into chaos by his attack, and none of them seemed powerful enough to pose him a threat. He was as mighty as he was ancient, a god in the flesh, and these mammals may as well have been insects before him.

The shapeshifter slowed a little as he approached a wider street, his head turning slightly as he took in his surroundings, planning a way forward. Hunting was fun, but it would not be long before he was far enough away to make his escape. He stopped entirely, however, when he heard a voice, too loud to be anything but someone addressing him. He blinked, turning his head again to face the source of the sound.

A mammal girl. Ha! Vol's huge mouth opened ever so slightly as a deep rumbling noise rolled out from his throat, a strange hybrid between a growl and a laugh. When his voice came, it was low and guttural, like the grinding of iron against stone. "Oh really?" His head quirked a little to one side. "So kind of you to let me know."

And then he was moving, his towering bulk becoming a blur as he stepped forwards, almost halving the distance between them. For something so huge, Vol could move incredibly quickly, and by the time his clawed foot hit the ground his arm was already in motion, swiping out in a vicious backhand aimed at the mammal's midsection, as if he were swatting away a mere pest.
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