kapuchu*Looks at his own post count, raises an eyebrow, then shrugs.*
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- More sketch practices. I'm looking at Sand, Diamond, and Sapphire the most atm.
Cool. It's always flattering when people decide to draw my characters.
<Snipped quote by Guess Who>
I'll just make a 4koma for that xD Seems fitting for something like that!
He should have Sand looking on in annoyance in the 'chased by Grimm' bit, and then the rest of the team doing it on the 'suicide Creep' bit. For accuracy's sake, you know.
With the pests repelled, the group was once again freed to traverse the Hanging Jungle. Slowly but surely, they seemed to be approaching a milestone in their journey, with the surrounding environment changing to reflect this.
The first change was not so obvious. Rather, it was something the dog noticed as he realized he could see things further ahead, and the fact that the path slowly grew more accommodating of his large frame. The cables around them were thinning.
The second change was the appearance of a different kind of webbing, rapidly taking the place of the wires he had become accustomed to as they progressed. Unlike the almost metallic strands the group had used up until that point, there was something unmistakably alive about this new terrain, in a manner that reminded him of a tree’s roots. There was a sudden certainty in his mind that they would not find any spiders here. This shift in terrain marked the territory of a different kind of predator.
Even as their guide moved forward, seemingly unconcerned by the change, Fenn’s pace slowed momentarily, taking the time to test their new handhold’s strength. He quickly gained confidence as the webbing effortlessly held his weight. The occasional platforms entrapped by the roots, likely the remnants of stalactites eroded by time or the growth of the vines around them, were a welcome respite from the previous complete lack of solid footing.
Soon enough, however, they came within sight of a new obstacle.
Fenn pulled himself up to one to a platform large enough for him to stand with, following after the Imp. As she stood, facing forwards towards their destination, the dog took the chance to shake off some of the muck that still covered him from the fight against the spiders. Little came off. The guts and goop had long since dried, leaving him caked in foul smelling mud. He ignored the self-satisfied smirk his charge tried and failed to hide as she stood besides him, instead choosing to focus on the obstacle before them.
It seemed to be little more than a humongous rock on first inspection, but some of its features struck doubt in Fenn’s mind. Its shape was odd in and of itself. Spherical, unlike the trapped platforms they had climbed so far, and rather than being entangled within the vines, the odd webbing seemed to be flowing out of openings within it. There was a certain sense to it, he decided. If the vines were to be roots, this odd rock formation could be the tree.
The dog grunted. “It seems we must go around.”
“Or through,” Lily added. “Although that might take a lot of time.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, inspecting the thing from afar. “Something is off about it.”
As if on cue, the Watcher’s laughter rang out from nearby. Something that escaped Fenn’s attention must have caught the specter’s own, for his words carried a knowing tone to them as he addressed his escorts. And then, no sooner had it finished speaking, the thing within the rock shell awoke.
Clarity drew a single bark of laughter from the hound’s throat as the giant eye fixed on them. Just this once he would share in the Watcher’s twisted humor.
He had been wrong on two accounts. Not a tree and its roots, but a heart and its vessels, nor the territory of a new predator, but a new beast in and of itself. If that was true, they seemed to have wandered deep into a monster’s innards without a care in the world. Idly, he began to wonder how this monster fed, and if there were other, smaller creatures such as this hidden among the platforms they had climbed on their way there. He quickly stopped himself. He did not know, as was ever the problem. Speculation was not something he had time to indulge in.
What was more surprising, perhaps, was that his train of thought had not been interrupted this time.
“Still here, Imp?” he asked through bared fangs. “To where did your eagerness vanish?”
She looked up at him sideways, still keeping an eye on the, well, eye. “I am not suicidal enough to simply go up against something I have only seen a fraction of. I know nothing of this beast aside from its one eye. Better be watchful this time, and observe before we advance.”
Alas, his charge was not completely devoid of sense. A true shame.
Keeping eyes and ears on the vines around them, with a newfound appreciation of the danger they might be in, he glanced at the armor off the corner of his eye. “Well, guide? What have you led us to?”
The first change was not so obvious. Rather, it was something the dog noticed as he realized he could see things further ahead, and the fact that the path slowly grew more accommodating of his large frame. The cables around them were thinning.
The second change was the appearance of a different kind of webbing, rapidly taking the place of the wires he had become accustomed to as they progressed. Unlike the almost metallic strands the group had used up until that point, there was something unmistakably alive about this new terrain, in a manner that reminded him of a tree’s roots. There was a sudden certainty in his mind that they would not find any spiders here. This shift in terrain marked the territory of a different kind of predator.
Even as their guide moved forward, seemingly unconcerned by the change, Fenn’s pace slowed momentarily, taking the time to test their new handhold’s strength. He quickly gained confidence as the webbing effortlessly held his weight. The occasional platforms entrapped by the roots, likely the remnants of stalactites eroded by time or the growth of the vines around them, were a welcome respite from the previous complete lack of solid footing.
Soon enough, however, they came within sight of a new obstacle.
Fenn pulled himself up to one to a platform large enough for him to stand with, following after the Imp. As she stood, facing forwards towards their destination, the dog took the chance to shake off some of the muck that still covered him from the fight against the spiders. Little came off. The guts and goop had long since dried, leaving him caked in foul smelling mud. He ignored the self-satisfied smirk his charge tried and failed to hide as she stood besides him, instead choosing to focus on the obstacle before them.
It seemed to be little more than a humongous rock on first inspection, but some of its features struck doubt in Fenn’s mind. Its shape was odd in and of itself. Spherical, unlike the trapped platforms they had climbed so far, and rather than being entangled within the vines, the odd webbing seemed to be flowing out of openings within it. There was a certain sense to it, he decided. If the vines were to be roots, this odd rock formation could be the tree.
The dog grunted. “It seems we must go around.”
“Or through,” Lily added. “Although that might take a lot of time.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, inspecting the thing from afar. “Something is off about it.”
As if on cue, the Watcher’s laughter rang out from nearby. Something that escaped Fenn’s attention must have caught the specter’s own, for his words carried a knowing tone to them as he addressed his escorts. And then, no sooner had it finished speaking, the thing within the rock shell awoke.
Clarity drew a single bark of laughter from the hound’s throat as the giant eye fixed on them. Just this once he would share in the Watcher’s twisted humor.
He had been wrong on two accounts. Not a tree and its roots, but a heart and its vessels, nor the territory of a new predator, but a new beast in and of itself. If that was true, they seemed to have wandered deep into a monster’s innards without a care in the world. Idly, he began to wonder how this monster fed, and if there were other, smaller creatures such as this hidden among the platforms they had climbed on their way there. He quickly stopped himself. He did not know, as was ever the problem. Speculation was not something he had time to indulge in.
What was more surprising, perhaps, was that his train of thought had not been interrupted this time.
“Still here, Imp?” he asked through bared fangs. “To where did your eagerness vanish?”
She looked up at him sideways, still keeping an eye on the, well, eye. “I am not suicidal enough to simply go up against something I have only seen a fraction of. I know nothing of this beast aside from its one eye. Better be watchful this time, and observe before we advance.”
Alas, his charge was not completely devoid of sense. A true shame.
Keeping eyes and ears on the vines around them, with a newfound appreciation of the danger they might be in, he glanced at the armor off the corner of his eye. “Well, guide? What have you led us to?”
Hm. Just watched the Volume 4 video RT uploaded. Noticed one detail I didn't catch from the RTX videos.
For some reason, Ruby having lips makes me deeply uncomfortable.
For some reason, Ruby having lips makes me deeply uncomfortable.
@AbillioncatsPokemon Mystery Dungeon RP. Make it happen. Not that I'd have time to participate.
With their guide delving into the vines, the party had little choice but to follow. Fenn waited for the Imp to move into the jungle of wires before he himself ventured in.
As he had predicted, progress was tortuous. The entrance to the Hanging Jungle had faded from view almost instantly upon their entry, and the mess of cables entwining wherever the eye could see gave little clue as to their current location. Contrary to his charge’s observations and barring initial hesitation over finding which cables were strong enough to hold his weight, Fenn’s long arms and strength left him uniquely suited for moving from one handhold to another, even if it was only by hanging from the vines, but his girth often forced him to pause and push at meshes of wires to squeeze through openings too small for him to go through otherwise.
In the end, the slow group marked the pace, while the talking armor that led them set their bearing.
It was an irritating thought, that if their guide so chose, it could slip away from the group and leave them to find their way to their destination on their own. The hound could only hope it had no reasons to do that, and if it did, that scent of the metallic being would still hang vividly enough in this jungle, so that he may hunt it down and tear it open in repayment.
Nonetheless, the guide did not seem intent on straying from its assigned role, and the group continued its slow progress.
Fenn’s ears swiveled as something reached them. Lithe, clicking sounds, like claws tapping stone added itself to the scraping and grinding noises of metal cables rubbing against each other, either moved by wind currents or their own clumsy passage. They came from a single direction at first, but quickly began spreading, multiple sources of sound spreading to every direction until the group was surrounded.
The hound paused, holding onto one thick, vertically hanging wire and glanced into the impenetrable jungle around him, a growl building in his throat. A moment later, the magpie voiced his question, words carrying with them a sneaking suspicion.
“Aye,” he confirmed, “They come.”
Shadows moved between the meshes of wires, spider-like monstrosities suddenly emerging in sudden lunges towards the members of their party.
As the monsters moved towards them, the Hellhound belched out a tongue of flame into the cables, fire washing over the web of wires and forcing the beasts to move away from the scorching heat. For a moment, the stream of fire seemed to be enough to guard their flank. Then, one of the beasts Fenn had been keeping track off from the corner of his eye vanished, and a weight suddenly attached itself to his back with the sound of chitin clicking against scales.
Fenn’s free arm immediately reached behind him, grasping one of the spider’s appendages, and pulled at it. The sudden force wrenched the monster off its perch and nearly tore the limb from its owner, leaving the spider to hang from Fenn’s grip, its pain obvious in the writhing of its remaining legs. Seeing another spider lunge at him from the side, Fenn swung the agonizing monster like a club. The two arachnids crashed against each other, and the force dislodged the damaged limb Fenn was holding onto, leaving the entangled beasts to crash through the vines.
Fenn barely had time to discard the severed leg before another arachnid jumped at him from the web. The thing crashed against a raised arm, legs skittering against his scales, sickle-like fangs scratching at the surface. There was a prickling sensation on the base of his wrist before another torrent of flame emerged from his throat, engulfing the monster.
Suddenly, the weight disappeared from his arm, and the monster materialized on empty air a few paces away. Fenn barely had time to see the creature’s wrinkled, charred eyes before it plummeted into the abyss.
He grunted, clenching his fist. A slight numbness spread from the spider’s bite, stealing some sensation from his fingers. The feeling brought to mind memories of another encounter, long ago, where such a toxin had been used on him. The effects of the spider’s bite were comparatively mild, though he could not tell if that was a result of his size, or his body’s make-up being too different from these predators' usual prey.
Fenn rocked back and swung onto another vine, letting the chains around his arms unwind with the motion. As another spider jumped out at him, metal links stiffened and snapped upwards, smashing against the thing’s side and sending it hurtling away.
The chains rattled and danced like snakes behind the demon, protecting his back and sides. He detested using his bonds in such an overt manner, but with the spider’s paralyzing venom and their ability to seemingly materialize from thin-air, he would need more than a single free arm and his kind’s affinity with fire to turn the monsters away. And it seemed to him turning them away was the only recourse the group had, lest they came up with a plan that allowed them to outrun the swarm of arachnids.
As he had predicted, progress was tortuous. The entrance to the Hanging Jungle had faded from view almost instantly upon their entry, and the mess of cables entwining wherever the eye could see gave little clue as to their current location. Contrary to his charge’s observations and barring initial hesitation over finding which cables were strong enough to hold his weight, Fenn’s long arms and strength left him uniquely suited for moving from one handhold to another, even if it was only by hanging from the vines, but his girth often forced him to pause and push at meshes of wires to squeeze through openings too small for him to go through otherwise.
In the end, the slow group marked the pace, while the talking armor that led them set their bearing.
It was an irritating thought, that if their guide so chose, it could slip away from the group and leave them to find their way to their destination on their own. The hound could only hope it had no reasons to do that, and if it did, that scent of the metallic being would still hang vividly enough in this jungle, so that he may hunt it down and tear it open in repayment.
Nonetheless, the guide did not seem intent on straying from its assigned role, and the group continued its slow progress.
Fenn’s ears swiveled as something reached them. Lithe, clicking sounds, like claws tapping stone added itself to the scraping and grinding noises of metal cables rubbing against each other, either moved by wind currents or their own clumsy passage. They came from a single direction at first, but quickly began spreading, multiple sources of sound spreading to every direction until the group was surrounded.
The hound paused, holding onto one thick, vertically hanging wire and glanced into the impenetrable jungle around him, a growl building in his throat. A moment later, the magpie voiced his question, words carrying with them a sneaking suspicion.
“Aye,” he confirmed, “They come.”
Shadows moved between the meshes of wires, spider-like monstrosities suddenly emerging in sudden lunges towards the members of their party.
As the monsters moved towards them, the Hellhound belched out a tongue of flame into the cables, fire washing over the web of wires and forcing the beasts to move away from the scorching heat. For a moment, the stream of fire seemed to be enough to guard their flank. Then, one of the beasts Fenn had been keeping track off from the corner of his eye vanished, and a weight suddenly attached itself to his back with the sound of chitin clicking against scales.
Fenn’s free arm immediately reached behind him, grasping one of the spider’s appendages, and pulled at it. The sudden force wrenched the monster off its perch and nearly tore the limb from its owner, leaving the spider to hang from Fenn’s grip, its pain obvious in the writhing of its remaining legs. Seeing another spider lunge at him from the side, Fenn swung the agonizing monster like a club. The two arachnids crashed against each other, and the force dislodged the damaged limb Fenn was holding onto, leaving the entangled beasts to crash through the vines.
Fenn barely had time to discard the severed leg before another arachnid jumped at him from the web. The thing crashed against a raised arm, legs skittering against his scales, sickle-like fangs scratching at the surface. There was a prickling sensation on the base of his wrist before another torrent of flame emerged from his throat, engulfing the monster.
Suddenly, the weight disappeared from his arm, and the monster materialized on empty air a few paces away. Fenn barely had time to see the creature’s wrinkled, charred eyes before it plummeted into the abyss.
He grunted, clenching his fist. A slight numbness spread from the spider’s bite, stealing some sensation from his fingers. The feeling brought to mind memories of another encounter, long ago, where such a toxin had been used on him. The effects of the spider’s bite were comparatively mild, though he could not tell if that was a result of his size, or his body’s make-up being too different from these predators' usual prey.
Fenn rocked back and swung onto another vine, letting the chains around his arms unwind with the motion. As another spider jumped out at him, metal links stiffened and snapped upwards, smashing against the thing’s side and sending it hurtling away.
The chains rattled and danced like snakes behind the demon, protecting his back and sides. He detested using his bonds in such an overt manner, but with the spider’s paralyzing venom and their ability to seemingly materialize from thin-air, he would need more than a single free arm and his kind’s affinity with fire to turn the monsters away. And it seemed to him turning them away was the only recourse the group had, lest they came up with a plan that allowed them to outrun the swarm of arachnids.
Are there any recommended music tracks available that has an upbeat, peaceful tone to it? I want to convert them into .ogg files so that they can come out in the novel. These are mostly for the music at the mart Sangue goes to, but also her dormitory in the Academy itself.
This theme deserves more play.
@LugubriousAh, alright. Mission was supposed to last for a couple of days, so I suppose it would make sense to wait for things move forward.
It also looks like Guess put up the collab. We sort of skipped to the end when we admitted it was going to take the better part of the next year to reach the conclusion.
It also looks like Guess put up the collab. We sort of skipped to the end when we admitted it was going to take the better part of the next year to reach the conclusion.
A quick question. Team RGTS seems to be about to end its mission. Timeline wise, has a day or more passed in the IC since the missions were supposed to end? I lost track a while ago.
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