ERode

Symphony of Espers

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22 | Female | Freelancers | Meltwater Spring
Moya-no-Yume | Dagger | Physical | Frosted Sheen
Impermanence of Spring Snow | Boreas's Caress
Glacial Stream | Aqua | Rime Rose
[Freeze, Slick] Damage, Restrain, Push, Extend, Construction, Craft, Mark, Blink, Bend

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 750

[Bronze Touch + Slick + Push] = 40 Mana

PHYSICAL: E| ARCANE: B | CHAOS: C | 314

_{@BrokenPromise@The World@Ponn}

Pain, and then her body was lighter, more unbalanced.

Push, and then she was falling back, watching in slow motion as her beloved blade was tossed away.

Close, so close. But to what? What was the goal? What was she to do?

The pain brought everything to a sharpened relief. The Balefire coursed deep, and the Poison coursed deeper, both impeding her functions. On every level, she was performing even worse now than when she first began. But on every level, Klava still held years of combat experience, of near-death experiences, of having to deal with shit without backup. Sure, her targets had changed from monsters to espers over the years, but what of it? They were fundamentally the same, and she was functionally still Pax Septimus born and raised.

A dirt-cheap bitch chomping at the chance to tear a victory out.

Even missing an instrument and one arm, the silver sheen persisted, a miscalculation on the part of her foes, and so long as it did, all velocity was preserved by the Slick melody still enhancing her! Twinned sashes shot out as she hit the ground…and kept going at the same speed. One leg braced and kicked off, adding to it even further! It would take one second for the sigils engraved upon her remaining arm to manifest her last melody, but it would take less than that for her to reach him!

“Storm’s here, Sofron!”

Twisting onto the stump of cauterized shoulder, the Maiden, Enraged, punched the machine gun upwards, knuckles fracturing against military-grade steel but redirecting the muzzle away from her exposed form. In that next instant, her sashes grew taut and her body spun around. Inertia converted into centrifugal force, and her leg swung up and out, aiming for Sofron’s hip.

Even with overpowering magical defenses, one could not wholly negate the effects of a push or a slick note. And when both were combined? The distance between the esper and the surging waters was minimal.

Last Regret. Make it bloody.

The second ended and Klava emerged from the husk of the Maiden. As Baleful Sofron hit the water, perhaps even fell into the water, she came in after him, attempting to pin him underneath the waves before bludgeoning his face with her fists. Physical violence always worked against Espers, and concussions were the best method for fucking up melodies. If you couldn’t focus, if you couldn’t even see, what spell could you use outside of a Mark?

Unfettered by the maledictions imposed upon her Esper form, driven into the corner by being on her last life, Klava did what she had to, with neither beauty nor grace.

Turns out, working out did have professional benefits after all.

Advent of the Dawn —A Mecha Musume/Tokusatsu-Inspired RP

There was a laughtrack that played in Xuan-Yu’s head as Norika took what he said…and then missed so hard that she tried to shoot the Warped instead of the second floor. Well, that’s how it worked with psycho-kiddos, he supposed. Gravity took hold either way, and the black-clad pilot descended, the greenery giving way to metallic artifice. Up above, the slug hive swirled still, its senses seeming to not have picked up on that massive gap in the flooring. Good. It was time to get moving.

The gashes were a symbol of trouble, while the doors to the side lead to rooms that looked too unsecured to carry anything of value. In places like this, rather than designated shelters, the greatest bulkheads would likely be where the most valuable experimental subjects were, no? And if he were a scientist running away…

“Rightwards.”

Xuan-Yu picked up his pace. They were on a clock now, and he had no intention of scrapping with the slug monster if he could help it.

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

The others had gone on ahead now, leaving Rossweine and Signar alone in the hallway, striding at a more leisurely pace. There was no particular reason to dwell on what words to use, and the Prince had no vested interest in keeping Signar from his breakfast either.

"Do you intend to continue your work as a smith? If so, I will arrange access to a forge for you."

That was all, really. Just confirmation, before any further investment was made.

Epic of Beginnings - Dawns Cradle

Illuminator? Who the fuck was that?!

Regardless of how much guidance could be conferred from some no-name that a bunch of psychopaths worshipped, human decision-making oft shat all over the oracles of the divine, and in deciding to fight rather than run, the remaining mask-wearers sealed their fate. A spear, after all, was never a weapon capable of truly puncturing through any substantial body, especially not a human one. With a final harumph, Atzi jammed her corpse-shield’s chest into the charging point, catching the spearpoint between the ribs. The woman dropped the corpse a moment later, and the deadweight rendered that weapon pointless.

Which meant, then, that it was a hunting knife versus an arrow-studded club.

The difference in range settled it in an instant. They had neither the speed nor the skill to close the distance before the blunt face of Atzi’s club shattered the fragile, delicate bones of their wrist in one swing, then ripped up the muscles and sinew of their right left on the backswing. They collapsed in conscious agony, flailing in the snow as adrenaline failed to silence the cries of their broken body. And all before the spear-wielder could wrest their weapon free.

Atzi was upon him in an instant, one hand wrapped around his neck as she bent him backwards over the corpse of his accomplice. She ripped the mask off his face with the other and then clenched it into a fist. A clear threat of violence, followed by a verbal roar.

“Where's Maira? Answer me!"

If there was no answer immediately, she’ll break his teeth, three at a time until his face swelled up twice its current size. After all, Atzi wasn’t a murderer. Except for the one she had used as a shield, every other mask-wearer was still alive. Alive, so she’d have plenty to ask questions to.

Symphony of Espers

❄

22 | Female | Freelancers | Meltwater Spring
Moya-no-Yume | Dagger | Physical | Frosted Sheen
Impermanence of Spring Snow | Boreas's Caress
Glacial Stream | Aqua | Rime Rose
[Freeze, Slick] Damage, Restrain, Push, Extend, Construction, Craft, Mark, Blink, Bend

DAMAGE: D | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 750

[Silver Self + Extend + Slick + Push] = 108 Mana

PHYSICAL: E| ARCANE: B | CHAOS: C | 354

_{@BrokenPromise@The World@Ponn}

The Restrain didn’t last even two seconds, huh? And where was KoT and Gale? Dead already?

Klava had caught a glimpse of them before, in between her trading blows with the rodent, but if Sofron could so freely turn his attention onto her now, that meant she couldn’t count on them for the time being. Also meant, though, that she couldn’t put her focus onto him too. With his shotgun primed and a machine gun waiting in the wings, heading down a corridor with no cover was a fool’s errand. And there was that poison in her veins, seeping deeper and deeper, crawling into her nerves, causing her muscles to stall by just that amount.

The decision came immediately.

Twisting her hips, Klava slammed her foot against the wall and propelled herself off to the side, the shotgun spread of the SPAS-12 grazing, but not pulverizing, her. The rodent was still there, crouched down, and in that second, the Maiden’s spell was made manifest, a silver sheen coating her body before she struck the ground once more…and then shot forwards! In an instant, she was upon the rodent, and in the next, it became a real fight, one that featured a blade against two wooden sticks.

And in a position so close that they were practically hugging?

A blade would always have space to cut, but a stick would not always have space to strike, and any attempt to grasp Klava in that moment would be confounded by the shimmer of magic that coated her entirety.

It was like that burning hallway again, choking and tearing up. But this time, she had another opponent waiting and no time to waste on a surrender.

Klava would kill that rodent. Twice, if she had to.

Hidden backstories, are they a good idea?

I’ve done it before and I’m still, in some ways, doing it now.

Either it never pops up in the IC before the RP dies, or people’s predilections for internal monologue ruin the surprise before it’s ICly revealed. It’s a great thing to play with either way though, as the backstory is otherwise a fairly pointless thing to have in a CS, perhaps only useful for ensuring that people read your five pages of lore and setting.

And in the once-in-a-blue-moon scenario where you get a character interaction focused RP that is active and long running, the secret backstories really get to play out in fun ways.

So if you think about it, you honestly have nothing to lose as a GM if you just cut the Backstory portion out of your CS templates completely and then tell the players to toss only the spicy history deets at you.

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

So when you say there’s a lot of Dragons, you mean that they’re generally a pretty populous monster race in this world? How well do the countries handle draconic threats then? Would one dragon be enough to fuck up cities? Or are they relatively common threats, with effective plans in place to manage and handle them?

With this being a DND-based thing, does that mean we have a host of interplanar and interdimensional gibbly goobers too? Or is it DND but without the much zanier elements of the game? Thinking stuff like Gith or Mindflayers or those funny little clock dudes.

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

Aight Frogger, what’s up with dragons in this world?

Prophetiae Adventum: Envoys of the Pantheon

Deadline Saturday then?

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

“Captain is fine, Julian,” Rossweine said.

With all fortune, the Baker boy would have caught that. Maybe he should have made his preferences clearer during the first dinner. Maybe they were all too busy eating to have heard back then. Maybe he would write it down.

Maybe he’d just stop bothering with corrections, if it fundamentally remained the same.

Such were small worries though, compared to the trial up ahead. The first day of training was inbound, and so too would the first day of his assignment. Observation of improvement for Kai and Nathaniel. Appeasement for the Light-Blessed. And for the others? Well, he’ll still have to cut perfect enough of a figure that when he stopped showing up, they’d assume it was out of overcompetence, rather than out of slothfulness. So he nodded his greetings towards those who came after him, and he watched Julian chase after Kai, Dot shadowing them. Took another few moments to revise, to feel the meager heat seep into his bones, and let out a breath.

“Signar,” Rossweine spoke, “Walk with me.”

And with that, the captain made for the mess hall at a leisurely pace. This early in the morning, the only lineup would be that of Squad 13 and perhaps a few other early birds, after all. It was only to be expected, considering the crop that the House had harvested.