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Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current Goodbye Miura. One of my favorite fantasy authors of all time has gone too soon.
13 likes
5 yrs ago
Don't forget, they made another new hero named Screentime. A meme loving superhero who got his powers from exposure to internet gas. He has the ability to basically be a smart phone.
4 likes
5 yrs ago
Sometimes I open up a new tab on my browser and I forget what I intended to do with it... What am I doing here again?
6 likes
5 yrs ago
When did I do that?
7 likes
5 yrs ago
Whenever you're feeling down, just remember that this man is cheering you on: youtu.be/KxGRhd_iWuE
2 likes

Bio

Most Recent Posts

As Nimoa accidentally began to empty her backpack of belongings and the somber hero helped her collect the fallen items, a sudden pain began to intensify behind his brow. Idiot senses tingling. A singularity of stupidity is approaching. Really it was the slight stench of brimstone and scorched cloth that he detected on the air as Charlotte approached, a smell that caused mysterious migraines every now and then for whatever reason. He knew it was probably just a placebo effect and that the demon princess didn't actually set off any sort of sixth sense he had, but there did seem to be a correlation between intense pain and Charlotte's meddling so he didn't yet rule out that leveling up had gained him a new passive ability to sense danger.

"I only just got here yesterday. I know heroes often have the ability to lure attractive women, but not even I would have had time to make a child with a vampire woman in that little time. And I don't think being a lolicon would allow me to keep my hero status, let alone all the moral lines it would cross," Tristan said, letting Charlotte rest her head on his shoulder without complaint. He was too preoccupied with making sure Nimoa had left one of her belongings. With a sigh, he replied back to the princess' last question. "Fine. Just fought a bloodthirsty monster hunter. Got a new shield. Nothing spectacular."
Prime Vanguard RP

No, this was not the first time that Tristan had ever seen a kidnapping. Perhaps most people could not claim to have experience in such matters, but living countless lifetimes in a diverse set of bodies made it difficult for one to ever not live through a rare occurrence like this at least once. Despite this though, the hero stood flabbergasted, yes flabbergasted, that anyone would have the audacity to try and kidnap his newly acquired companion right in front of him.

For a decisecond that is. Long enough for him to blink his eyes once, take in the situation, and quickly evaluate the best course of action before he jumped into action. "Nimoa, keep that parasol above your head! I'm on my way!" he shouted as the vampiric young girl was dragged away. Racing after her at faster than normal human speeds, he would watch as the horse continued to put distance between him and the kidnapping victim, though catching up on his own two feet was not his intention.

Upon reaching the town gates, Tristan unsheated his sword and brought it down on the restraints that kept a horse tied to an incoming wagon. "What do you think you're doing?" the driver called out, shocked that anyone would be stupid enough to steal a horse not only in front of its owner, but in front of the town guard as well.

"Hero business. I need her now much more than you do," Tristan said, climbing into the saddle and giving chase. He was sure that Nimoa would scold him for doing something so unheroic as stealing, but he was confident he could use the excuse that he was borrowing the horse to quell her ire. For now, he was more concerned in making sure that she would have the opportunity to be mad at him.




Already, Tristan was beginning to have second thoughts. Vampires were dangerous creatures, capable of spreading death and destruction where ever one went, let alone an army. He had defeated enough Vampire Lords and would-be undead conquerors to know that giving them free reign on this world's surface could cause an untold number of problems for this world's inhabitants without the checks and balances already set in place. Still, he had already given his word that he would help, and pulling out now would only make him look as foolish to these two as he knew he was. He hoped that the existence of girls like Nimoa meant that the majority of her kind would be more like this rather than the Nosferatu and Dracula-kind. With his luck though, he was sure that wasn't the case.

"You can all me Tristan." It's the only thing I seem to remember clearly at this point. "Now, why don't we try looking for a cartographer or such somewhere in town for a more updated map. Going into some place dangerous with outdated information is likely to get us ki- in a lot of trouble." Even if she was a vampire, the hero thought it best to avoid putting such morbid thoughts as death into her head. He'd gotten away with mentioning death a few moments before, but he had enough experience with kids to know that reminding them that life on Earth was limited and one day they all would find themselves breathing their last was bound to cause more tears. Except him of course. He was going to outlive them all, much to his chagrin.
As the small vampire girl began to break into tears, Tristan couldn't help but scowl at the sound, even replying to it with an irritated low growl. He hated hearing children cry. Who didn't? Just watching her wail before him made the hero want to walk away as far as he could from Nimoa and find a much quieter place to wait for his companions' return.

However, despite the countless years transforming the hero into a jaded asshole, there was a reason that fate had chosen him of all people to be said hero. Despite the hardships and cruelty he had faced, he still did the right thing when destiny called upon him. "Alright 32, let's hear this new plan of yours. Maybe I can help with this one. Especially if it involves punching a bad guy or fetching some magical artifact. I've gotten quite good at those." Even if I've gotten tired of them showing up so often.
@Suku@The Irish Tree

In another life, at another time, the small vampire girl would have melted Tristan's cold heart. Her adorable demeanor, the naive request for help, the cute way she seemed so shy about asking for his help. Even the the almost funny way she seemed to completely disregard her own self-preservation by standing under the burning sun as she waited for his response. In fact, he recalled in some previous lives having his own children that acted as so.

That was just it though. Like everything else, he'd seen it all before.

Looking over to the demon woman that seemed to be little Nimoa's friend, he lifted up his hand to point to the parasol that the child-like vampire had left behind. Valkira, after all, was still standing next to the rubble that had been a fountain where the umbrella had been left, so it would be more convenient if she brought it over. In the mean time, he would get down on his knees, bringing him at just about eye level with the girl.

Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to pat out the embers that were transforming into burning flesh, he would begin his disappointing speech. "Listen 32, I know firsthand that the Sun can be detrimental to you and your race, but I've got bad news for you. You see, while standing too long out in it's direct light might kill you over time as it's doing right now," Tristan said, watching as her other shoulder began to ignite as well and switching to patting that fire out before it grew further. "The opposite is true for other species like myself. If the Sun goes out, over time it will have negative effects on the world. Things like plants and trees will die out, species will go extinct. A really bad time for most people involved. Not to mention that the Sun is larger than this world, only appearing small because it's so far away, so there would be no possible way to put the thing out without some serious magic."

When Valkira arrived with the parasol, Tristan would take it and hold it above the girl's head to help prevent further damage from the Sun. "It may suck to hear it, but it's best that you give up on your dreams. Think smaller so you can achieve something more possible and avoid living with years of regret over wasted effort," he finished, blunt and to the point.
As Tristan looked upon the destruction wrought upon the town's courtyard by (the falsely assumed) C-3, the young man couldn't help but release a heavy sigh. That was now two innocent villages that had been damaged by his rash party members and he was already predicting that they were far from the last. Had he really found his adventuring party in this world or was he actually helping the baddies? Perhaps it was Charlotte he needed to defeat so he could move on to the next world. Looking back upon how their journey had progressed so far actually, that theory was beginning to gain weight. Before it could be given any further serious thought though, the stench of death suddenly wafted toward him.

Those who lacked the life experiences he had accumulated over the years, may have been mistaken that death held only one stench. That being the all too common smell of decay and filth that one might find on a battlefield or in a plague-ridden hospice. However, each of the various undead among worlds carried their own unique smells. Zombies and such tended to be the most disgusting, causing the weak of stomach to commonly lose their lunch when a horde was close. Poltergeists tended to leave behind that strange, green goop in frequent hauntings, which smelled like eggs that had gone bad. Vampires though? Their smell usually reminded Tristan of embalming fluid and blood.

Before he could begin to track down the undead monster in their midst, she would make herself known by turning to look at him with a motion that reminded the hero of an own twisting its head around. This, followed by the fang-filled smile she showed him, would not put Tristan's nerves at ease. His hand would begin to move toward the sword that sat within the scabbard at his hip until he picked up what she said to her newfound friend. Help? What could she possibly need my help for? Relaxing his stance but still keeping a hand ready at his side, the hero approached the two girls at the destroyed fountain.
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