Avatar of Kafka Komedy
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    1. Kafka Komedy 10 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses

5 yrs ago
Current I'm back, bitch.
7 yrs ago
Check out my Shounen RP! Again! roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
7 yrs ago
Check out ma bugs bro roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
8 yrs ago
Check this shit out: roleplayerguild.com/topics/1..

Bio

Still back, bitch.

Most Recent Posts

Phocas Amyntas

Phocas woke up.

He had no idea how he had. The last thing he remembered was staring down the barrel of one of the Moon Lord's minion's rifles while he faded from consciousness. But it wasn't there anymore. Neither was the roof of the dungeon. Phoc was simply staring up at a beautiful skyline. Dawn, it was, judging by the position of the sun. Or, dusk? He never bothered to memorize considering how often he was underground. Still. It was nice. There was a cool wind and pleasant warmth. He could almost fall asleep right there.

But he couldn't. The last thing he remembered was dying, leaving behind the earth to be ravaged by monsters. If there was any chance this wasn't the afterlife, that he could still help out and fight back, then he had to seek it out. Shooting onto his feet, Phoc gave himself a pat down to see what he still had on his person. From the looks of it, everything he had taken from the Heretic was brought with him, from the blade to a magazine of musket shot. He also still had a few potions left, should he need to take respite.

"So, where am I?" Phoc asked himself. Looking around, he was in a city of some kind. Cobblestone and marble just from his small vantage point of the ground. His bet was on this city being built after the Moon Lord's first coming, no bricks of clay were in sight. They had taken great care to stop the Hallow and Crimson too, no patches of land open to corruption from either source. This was assuming, of course, he was still alive. The city certainly seemed, at just a first glance, to be decent enough for an afterlife.

Either way, he would never know what was going on unless he did his research. He could leave the city and take his chances, but he had no idea where he was. His best bet was, most likely, to ask if the inhabitants knew of any dungeons around the area. Or to ask if he was dead, of course. Looking down both ends of the street, there was a woman in a skirt and rabbit ears. Reminded him of the Hallow, and there was this aura about her like he should trust her, but hate her. As he approached, his hand was close to his blade.

"Hello, Miss, is there a dungeon around here?" He asked her.


Damn, I missed quite a bit! I'll get on reading and writing a post up now. If Reisen is free I'll probably interact with her cuz, yaknow, moon.
@Yidhra Anything wrong with Phocas? Or did you already accept him in the previous thread and I forgot?

EDIT: You did! Whoops, moving him over now. May also add Amaterasu to my roster of characters, not sure yet.
Finally done! So many cool characters, can't wait to start.
@Yidhra Thanks for accepting him. I was worried Phoc was a little much. I'll get his personality ideals and bio once my stomach decides to stop punching itself.
Just gonna post this here, assuming theres space still and needed a place to keep it.

I'm thinking about joining this. Seems like a ton of fun. Just two questions; the generic "any room?" and also how often are we expected to post?
Lovecraft - Streets of Denver

After handing Arsenal the envelope, he looked quite a bit interested in the prospect of joining, judging by his expression. An attractive young inventor who didn't like wearing shirts was exactly what they had been hoping for. Unfortunately, Jack asked a rather invasive question to their new comrade, which Lovely wasn't a fan of. "Ah, before we fully introduce ourselves, why don't we find a nice place? We could all have a nice lunch. I know a great sandwich shop near here!" They suggested.
Inside HPIS

Hallway & A bit of Cell Block L-1

Nefas admittedly didn't expect the deflection of the attack. He knew he didn't look like someone to be meddled with but most would block a strike like this. That had been what he was betting on but Deprave instead countered with a sort of throw, landing Nefas squarely on his back and winding him a bit. As soon as he recovered Nefas was being spun, and facing down the barrel of two shotguns. He quickly pulled upwards as the first shot was fired, all missing his eyes and some pellets instead making their way into his open mouth and piercing his tongue and gums.

This motion had two effects, dodging the blast, and harming Deprave, hitting him square in the sternum. This winded the man-demon enough for Nefas to wrest free, both of them losing some skin in the process. He would not be let up on though. He began to be sandwiched between a rock (Old N) and a hard place (A swarm of prisoners). Though they would clearly limit Deprave's movement and attacks, Nefas now had to deal with many enemy combatants at once. He would deal with Old N first, hitting him with an open arm strike that would knock him both back and down. Turning to face the swarm, head cast downwards to avery the gaze of Grog's cannons, Nefas began slaughtering the wave of freed prisoners armed with small blades. Many bounced off of him as he began decapitating men, women, and demons with swift chops from his hand. Every now and then he began to feel a bit weaker as a contact poison struck him, but that was far from enough to kill him.

His gaze being cast down though, Nefas did not notice the two assailants above him, the King from the side, and Poncho from above. As both of them struck simultaneously, Poncho with a double axe handle and the King with a backstab. Neither did much, except getting Nefas to gaze up at them. Nefas grasped Poncho's poncho and threw him at Deprave and Grog, before elbowing the King with enough force to crack all of his ribs at once and knock him back a bit. But that didn't mean all was for not. the King's draining had weakened Nefas's skull. If a significantly powerful blow hit him there, it would pierce his hide.

Near Betty's Cell

Listening intently, the Headguard (his nametag identified him as Mike) gazed wearily around the hall, listening and watching intently for the first strike, cattle-prod in hand and poised to strike. His ears perked just so as Kritch murmured in the vents. He prepared himself, ready to dodge or strike, maybe even defend considering how small his opponent must be. He couldn't prepare for what happened next though. A black cloud of smoke shot from the vent, at him. Mike shut his mouth and eyes tight and swung his weapon at the intruder, but neglected to block his nose. As the smoke entered it, and flowed into his brain, Mike realized he had probably fucked up.

Kritch's hand began manifesting a split second later, smashing Mike's grey matter against his skull and stopping most higher brain function. As Kritch pulled what little of his hand was left away, all that was left was Mike's lower brain. It was all he needed to know that the other man approaching was bad news. He could no longer recognize or remember the man, V, but his eyes dilated and his arms seemed to move up to protect himself even as his rod dropped to the floor. As he attempted to breath in, a great effort with such a mashed brain, Mike would breath in the ozone, almost destroying his lungs as well. He was down for the count.

Retrieving the keys from the body, either of them could now open up the door and put Betty in the bag. Someone ought to call Bartender and tell him to get the car ready.
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