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1 mo ago
Current I'm GMing an RP. That's enough horror for me.
4 likes
5 mos ago
But can the Ghost Note see why kids love the great taste of Cinnamon Toast Crunch?
2 likes
6 mos ago
Have you tried finding the Avatar?
9 likes
7 mos ago
When you manage to snag post 69 in the IC. Nice.
7 likes
7 mos ago
When a group of players click and the posts keep roling in, that's what GM dreams are made of.
9 likes

Bio

L O R D W R A I T H
L O R D W R A I T H

"TBD"
U S E R P O R T R A I T
U S E R P O R T R A I T
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U S E R S U M M A R Y
U S E R S U M M A R Y
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Lord Wraith
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February 21st | 31 | Caucasian
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Married | | Heterosexual
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Ontario | Canada

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All systems go. Back to writing.

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Most Recent Posts

"I hate magic."

IllAdvised didn't have much time to dwell on his feelings at the moment, Thomas was injured, far beyond his capabilities and as Feral had correctly pointed out, there was the civilian to consider too. Priority was her safety, then came figuring out how she factored into Thomas' spontaneous exit from retirement and how these creatures were related. Then would come the where, the why and-

"Can you create an opening? I can hold it and meet you at our usual med location."

IllAdvised nodded solemnly, snapping back to the moment at hand while eying the creatures as they began to stand. Extending his right hand, IllAdvised's weapon of choice flew to his hand, each piece of the three section staff moving independently through the air before assembling in the Maverick leader's waiting grip — a theatrical display showcasing the gadgetry genius at work in IllAdvised's ensemble. The end of the staff crackled to life with fifty thousand volts ready to be deployed defensively against their xenomorphic foes.

Lunging into action, the Maverick leader used the staff to vault over the first creature, recoiling the weapon midair, before twisting about and arching the magnetically bonded sections in a stunning attack. The satisfying pop and crackle of the taser-loaded end making contact exploded through the rainy New Lilith night. But as IllAdvised landed, he only came face to face with a pissed-off eyeless creature.

...If they don’t have eyes, is it safe to assume sound or smell navigation?

Makarios' earlier words echoed through IllAdvised mind as he crossed his weapon over his chest, just barely keeping the razor-sharp talons from piercing the layered armour covering his chest. If these things could shred Thomas like hot butter, then Chuck had no intention of finding out what happened when they went through him.

"Feral, remember what you said earlier about sound?" IllAdvised grunted through gritted teeth before tossing the talons to the side and sliding through the creature's staggered legs.

"I love a good theory," IllAdvised replied with a glib growl. "Let's put it to the test, Glitch; same Bat-Time, same Bat-Channel please."

As the Maverick's earpieces switched to a noise-cancelling frequency, IllAdvised avoided a swipe from one of the creatures, his feet careening through the air into a double backflip. Producing several small gadgets from his belt, IllAdvised continued to dodge, working his feet independently of his hands while they mixed the modules to create a new device.

With a twist of his armoured hand, the device came to life, emitting a piercing wail that would deafen anyone not using similar noise-cancelling devices. From the nearby Lower East End came the chorus of howling dogs as the creatures screeched their own agony.

Sliding towards the civilian, IllAdvised quickly pried her hands away from her head, placing a set of earpieces on either side of her head. A small glimmer of relief washed over her face as the noise-based attack was silenced.

The sonic assault might have slowed the creatures, but it didn't stop them. Disorientated and clearly in pain, they began lashing about haphazardly, doing anything they could to hit either Maverick, the girl or finish Thomas off. The familiar rumble of an illegally modified engine shook the ground beneath IllAdvised as his stallion thundered their rescue. Engaging the remote controls on his gauntlet, IllAdvised twisted his wrist to fire the car's afterburners, launching it through the air. Nearly one tonne of steel and rubber collided with the first creature, sending it toppling over the dock and into the New Lilith Bay.

The Maverickmobile deployed its evasive maneuvering thrusters and airbrakes in combination, skidding to a stop dangerously close to the edge of the dock before rapidly reversing towards the girl and IllAdvised. But it wasn't going to be enough to stop the second creature from descending upon the Maverick and civilian. Flaring his nostrils beneath the crimson mask, Chuck took a deep breath, thinking back to his training with Makarios, feeling his emotions and summoning the familiar anger. It was easy when one of his best friends was clinging to life, easy to recall the unbridled rage that the Mavericks faced on their first outing together. The strength that made pulling a bank vault door from its hinges look as easy as tearing a piece of paper.

Pulling back, IllAdvised released his arm, letting out the first strike. His hand collided hard with the creature, not with Tony's strength but rather a resounding pop, even louder than earlier, as the air was suddenly superheated by nearly ten million volts. The anger Chuck had tapped into was not the empathetic memory he had felt from the Behemoth, but rather Allison's unbridled rage.

His wrist crumbled under the reinforced hide of the creature, the suit's HUD lighting up like the fourth of July as countermeasures quickly applied pressure to the break, securing it in place while Chuck reeled under his mask from the pain.

"Car." He hissed to the girl as the door of the black vehicle opened. "Now."

Fear had held the girl in place until now, but she was able to understand that one simple request as she clambered into the passenger seat while the car spun around, allowing IllAdvised the opportunity to climb inside just in time to see the first creature emerging from the water.

"Glitch," IllAdvised commanded as the seatbelts wrapped themselves around the two occupants.

"Punch it."
| EARTH-668
__THE VEGA SYSTEM - THE EREBUS, THE CITADEL FLAGSHIP
The Tamaranean woman walked the bottom-lit hallway flanked by a pair of armed Gordanian guards. Long black hair flowed from the back of her alien orange skin, falling against her back and spilling over the purple fabric of her intricate bodice's train. Waiting for her on the massive vessel's bridge was Lord Antar Ftt B'Jan. He was a Kree deserter, though despite being a tailcoat, it hadn't stopped Ftt B'Jan from having a bloated sense of self-importance due to his position as the sole autarch of the desolate world of Hny'xx. The Tamaranean Queen was familiar with the Kree male, as like herself, Antar had forcibly been made to sign an alliance with the Citadel when they sieged the Vega System.

"<Ah,>"1 Antar acknowledged the Tamaranean Queen coldly as she entered the room. "<Queen Kormand'r, your sister sends her regards.>"

"<I'm surprised her heart still beats in her chest. I thought your pits were supposed to be only for the strong.>"

"<Your disdain for your sister blinds you if you think her weak.>" Taunted Antar, "<You gifted me my champion, she's the strongest contender in the pit. But!>" He paused, rubbing his hands together wickedly, "<I have someone new I'm eagerly anticipating will give her a challenge.>"

"<They had better provide more than a challenge,>" Kormand'r snarled, "<They had better kill her or I'll personally be visiting your backwater little world to finish the job personally!>"

"<Might we remind you, your majesty,>" A new voice hissed, "<You are not in charge here.>" The Psion added, their reptilian tongue darting in and out from between their scaly lips as they approached the bickering pair. Kormand'r froze for the slightest second, her hair standing on end upon seeing not only a Psion, but this particular Psion again. Her right hand balled into a white-knuckled fist, fingernails threatening to draw blood from her palm as she increasingly squeezed.

"<My Lady sends her regards and flagship in her stead, but she will not join us today. Our forces on the Shi'ar front are more demanding of her focus at this time.>"

"<Plytus.>" Kormand'r started, steeling her tone to hide any hesitation in her voice, "<Lady Styx does herself a disservice sending a Kraalian crotch-worm in her stead. Our history is hardly cordial, I should cut you down where you stand.>"

The Gordanians flanking the Tamaranean Queen tightened the grip on their weapons, but to Kormand'r's surprise, they were not pointed at Plytus, but rather at her. The crocodilian-like guards had an almost sly smile to their toothy snouts. Their long tails raised from their relaxed position on the floor, balancing them to spring into action. Perhaps it should not have surprised Kormand'r where their loyalty would truly lie as she looked from one reptilian species to the other. The Gordanians after all, were made in their creator's image.

"<And you, my dear Queen,>" Plytus replied, raising a clawed limb signalling the Gordanian guards to relax, "<Need to remember to whom your position is owed.>" Plytus purred walking past the Tamaranean without fear of harm.

"<After all I fixed you.>" He stated before taking a seat in the commanding officer's chair on the Erebus' bridge.

"<You're welcome to cut me down, but that would make you a traitor to the Citadel. Your death would not be so quick, and Tamaran would be forfeit. Tell me, was the physical price you paid so high that you'd let your world die for revenge?>"

Kormand'r locked eyes with Plytus, defiantly staring the reptile down before the tense silence was broken by Antar.

"<As I have no interest in this stalemate, I would ask why, if the Lady could not be present we were summoned to her flagship, Herald.>"

Plytus gave Kormand'r one last smug look before turning his eyes towards Antar.

"<Centuri VI was lost to the Reach.>" The statement hung in the room, even the Tamaranean seemed stunned enough to stifle her feud with the Psion, at least temporarily.

"<The Hive has begun a hostile expansion and we can't be sure that the Vega System is not in their path. The Citadel is already at war with the Shi'ar and we have barely settled our ceasefire with the Kree Empire. Tensions are high and a single ship in the neutral zone could make the entire Rann-Thanagar Treaty fall apart. Lady Styx expects the utmost competency from you both. Get your houses in order before the Reach is on our doorstep.>"

Plytus looked down at both the leaders before him.

"<Did you think your Lady did not know about the uprisings on Tamaran? Sparing the resistance simply because your brother is among them, now who is weak your majesty?>" The Herald scolded before turning to Antar.

"<And you, using prisoners for entertainment instead of harvesting the resources that Hny'xx holds beneath her surface. You were a traitor to your people, the Citadel did not put you on Hny'xx to indulge in a hedonistic fantasy. You are there to work, you are there to make sure that planet is stripped to its core for the glory of the Citadel! Stop wasting their strength in the pit when it should be used for the quarry!>" Plytus roared, salvia flying from his maw.

"<Guards!>" The Psion snapped, motioning towards both the Queen and the Lord. "<Get them out of my sight.>"

As she was escorted from the bridge, Kormand'r managed to steal one last look at Plytus. She could still smell the sterile lab environment as she looked at his smug visage, still feel his cold-blooded fingers ignoring her cries and still hear the hissing laughter at her agony.

The reptile would die by her hand.
1 - Translated from a Vega System Pidgin Dialect.

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Location: The Gladitorial Pits - Hyn'xx, 'Hope's End'
The Chain #1.01: Albatross
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Interaction(s): None
Previously: None

Thud.

The leathery fist made contact with Carter's face. The meaty slap echoed across the open arena, eliciting a cheer from the crowd and a muted grunt from the Terran combatant. Rearing back a fist, the four-armed Branx held the Thanagarian warrior tightly between his lower arms while continuing to swing wildly with his other two arms.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The wall suddenly gave way, revealing the hidden chamber behind the ancient wall. Entering the new opening, Dr. Carter Hall straightened his hat before igniting his flashlight. The beam refracted off the metallic hull of the vessel within.

It was exactly as he recalled it through his ancestor's memory. It was perfectly preserved despite the passing of several millennia, the damage sustained from the crash was barely visible as the Nth Metal slowly healed itself using the vessel's dwindling power reserves. The Brontadon had once been cutting-edge technology and by Earth standards, it still held up. Its Nth Metal construction made it capable of exiting the atmosphere with next to no difficulty, easily defying gravity all while giving the ship an almost organic construction.

Removing it from Egypt was no small feat, but after managing to circumvent several layers of red tape, Carter had the Brontadon back state side where Pat Dugan whistled admirably at the sleek construction.

"Don't worry, Carter. I can definitely get this bird back in the air."

He was true to his word too as Carter found himself making his first jump to lightspeed. The ship handled beautifully until it suddenly didn't. Pulled from lightspeed, the console was flashing various shades of amber, red and orange. Weapons' fire rained along the hull and Carter found himself in a dogfight without a gunner. The Wingships were designed to be flown by a team of two, a gunner and a pilot.

Out maunevered and flanked, the Brontadon soon was entangled between four tractor beams and Carter found himself looking up into the mask of the pirate captain. His ship stolen, stripped for its precious resource, Carter was given as tribute to a local despot. The despot recognized him as a Thangarian, a fighter.

Leading to Carter joining the pits.

T
hud.


"Enough of this." Carter roared as the final punch split his lip. Warm blood dribbled into the thick layer of stubble that had begun to cover his chin. Tucking his knees to his chest, Carter drove his heels straight forward into the Branx's abdomen, aiming for where the diaphragm was located on a human. Whether he struck the equivalent alien organ or not, it was enough to loosen the larger sentient's grip. Using the advantage, Carter took ahold of the alien's wrists, pulling his knees up again but this time twisting his torso upwards. Delivering another set of sharp kicks, Carter struck the underside of the Branx's jaw, driving its tusks upwards into its own cheekbones.

Its cry of pain echoed across the arena as the spectators jeered at Carter's sudden reversal. Free from the alien's grip, the Thanagarian warrior retrieved his sword, sliding between the towering alien's legs and slashing across the back of its calves. Following up with a swift kick to the back of its knee, the Branx howled with agony before dropping to the ground.

A pommel strike to the back of the head was enough to completely daze the creature before Carter slid the blade of his weapon under its chin.

"At least make it a challenge for me!" He mocked, looking defiantly towards the ruler of Hope's End, Lord Antar Ftt B'Jan.

"Do you yield?" Carter roared in the Branx's earhole as the crowd jeered again.

"<No.>"

"So be it." Carter muttered as the warm silver liquid spilled over his blade and onto the rusty sand below. The displeasure of the crowd echoed in Carter's ears as he returned to the undercroft beneath the arena's floor.
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
M I D N I G H T 🌣 S O N S


MAGIK 🌣 🌣 🌣 CONSTANTINE 🌣 🌣 🌣 THE HOOD SUPREME🌣 🌣 🌣 ZATANNA 🌣 🌣 🌣 BLADE
Magically Various Midnight Sons Multiverse 668 - Prime
W H A T I F...?:


“...The Hood sacrificed everything to stop an evil Sorcerer Supreme?

Doctor Steven Strange was never humbled out of his egoistical edge even after he broke his fingers in that car accident that ruined his career as a surgeon. In his quest to find a cure, he finds the Ancient One who refuses to cure his hands. Bitter, Strange then encounters Mordo and pledges to assist in killing the Ancient One in exchange for a cure. The tutelage of Mordo in the magical arts leads to Strange excelling leading to the pair killing the Ancient One.

With their common enemy out of the way, Strange, in a move to try and gain more power, betrays Mordo to obtain the Ancient One’s power in order to become the Sorcerer Supreme. With his power he becomes a tyrant in the mystical arts, finding ways to steal power from other practitioners and coveting every magical artifact. There would be no hope if Strange continued but an unlikely player would give up everything to stop Strange. Enter The Hood.

Up to this point, Parker Robbins has had the same life leading him to become The Hood. His father died, his mother comatose, he reverted to crime to make his wealth and with one of his heists leading him into obtaining his signature occult artifacts. In a bid to stop him, The Hood makes a dark pact with Dormammu to give him the power to defeat Strange at the cost of his soul to become a vessel of Dormammu’s possession. The Hood defeats the Sorcerer Supreme as planned but exploits a clause in his pact to avoid giving his soul to Dormammu: “By next Midnight, you’re soul will be mine.”

In the previous possession of Steven Strange, the Time Stone has become the very artifact that Parker relies on to avoid his possession. Just before the clock strikes midnight, he reverses time on himself to one minute after midnight on the same day. Time goes on around him but he must constantly revert his day back to the beginning, sparing him possession but sacrificing himself all the same with his memory being reverted.

Time has lost all meaning to Parker Robbins and at some point and the days blend together. In one of those days, John Constantine, his best friend and original guide into the occult, must have visited him in Sanctum and their discussion must have been productive because the Midnight Sons was formed. Utilizing the Sanctum, the Midnight Sons operate to help protect the new Sorcerer Supreme and the mystical items kept in the Sanctum Sanctorum.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ):

So I stumbled upon this RP and thought of some twist on a character that I could play. The Hood was originally appealing and specifically to take him from starting as a villain to redeeming himself to become a hero. Since it plays more into the mysticism aspect, I decided that Sorcerer Supreme would be a good angle for him, but then I thought what if it came at a cost?

The cinematic universe presented an idea with the time stone, specifically the idea of being stuck in a time loop. Looping a single day over and over again would be very interesting play, but he’d be limited in engagement since his memory doesn’t carry over. so I thought he’d have a small crew to help him operate. I picked a few good mystical characters from DC and Marvel to form the backbone of the mystical side for this RP.


C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

Steven Strange may be dead in 668, but there is plenty of potential for another Steven coming from somewhere. Any other mystical characters I’d like to get involved with should others propose them. Ultimately, I should be able to jump into plots that others do fairly easily as well.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

N/A


The Midnight Sons are accepted. Welcome aboard!


The answer to the Question is yes, accepted.
For the past five years, Charles Forte has lived a good life. He has a little dog named Chip and a good job at Greene's Groceries. He sees a lot of people everyday, the best of them he hopes. But pretty soon, the worst will rear their ugly heads.

That's a great concept. I love this idea.
Too bad, you're playing who Wraith says you're playing. Welcome to the real world.


This just made my list of funny comments.
I need to stop looking at it.

I did a thing.



24hrs on the clock and the God of Thunder is accepted.
@Sep My immense disappointment when it was not in fact 'The Thing.'

*Sad clobberin' noises*
What if... You were to apply to What If today?
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