Stekkmen

World of Light

Magnumus Agoston, Centurion.

Level 1 - (7/10) EXP
Location: Scrap Yard
Word Count: 478 words

The Centurion knelt down, his eyes scanning through the slits of his helmet through the battlefield. One thing that has piqued his interest were these people dressed in all metallic armor. Through their discarded bodies, the Centurion had made a troubling revelation. They were yet another force he did not understand. The entities did not bleed, nor did they have any sort of internal organ. They all seemed to carry these arms of fire, though it did not do them well against the ferocious evil rabbit creatures. Even though all of these entities were evil, it seemed they were not a peace with each other. In their corrupted forms they fought and squabbled over seemingly very little than land or territory. What ideology could these beings possibly posess worth dying over? Even the savage Vikings to the icy wastelands north of his home fought for Valhalla and their misguided notions of "freedom." These creatures were mindless. So why did they fight? It seemed this Galeem entity's perfect world was not perfect at all.

Still, even if these metal men were steel, and felt no pain, his sword would cut through them well enough with a well placed blow. Through years of training and mental fortitude, few armors could withstand the might of a legionnaire's blade. Further out, a menacing figure stood. A maniacal man with two entities next to him, both seeming to be armed to the teeth with projectile launchers. Dangerous, indeed.

"I must admit, I am out of my depth." Agoston said, showing a rare sign of humility. "Of course, if before us lay a Samurai infested jungle, a Viking horde, or a Wu-Lin naval fleet, I could show you the way through with ease. In the matters of this strange reality I am unexperienced. Strange rules, and stranger creatures. I need to get up close and personal to deal with these malignant entitites. Exotic strategies for exotic lands! I look forward to testing my mettle and metal against a foreign threat, but I need help. I defer my strength to the group's will.

To the right, there is conflict. Perhaps we could strike in the chaos of battle. If we do not take them now, I can only imagine the winner of the battle will find us later. To the left, a suspicious calm, but an apparent path to our objective. The final obstacle being the goggled man and his two gun devices. I say we strike the battle now, while we have the chance. Test ourselves and our foes before we find ourselves with their undivided attention."

He had embedded his blade in the ground while he talked, rubbing the chin of his helmet as if it were his real face. Agoston was at peace in his armor, like it was an extenstion of his being, and in some ways, it was.

World of Light

*slaps self*

OK no more BS. forgive me If I miss some interactions I'm just going to respond to the most recent GM post RIGHT NOW within the HOUR.

Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]

ALCOHOL

Plaza. Another straw to layer onto the already structually compromised camels back. And now, First was dead. A cop, one of the people meant to protect this city all because Alcohol let this big guy from Plaza into town. Al stood. "Get two units to go to the armory at the station. You need to lead me to this fucker." As he spoke, the mayor knelt down and pulled up a loose floorboard. Nestled in the a hole in the dirt was a footlocker. Unlocked, he flipped bent and rusted pre-war container open and inside was one of the most high-quality shotguns in town. Alcohol could most certainly handle himself in a gun fight, and this pump-action beauty was durable and well-maintained over the years.

Nickles most likely had an improvised handgun or rifle. The mayor followed the guard into the streets, where they quickly and effeciently navigated toward the scene of the incident. People would recognize a situation was developing when the mayor had his shotgun out. This was no ordinary arrest. This person was an ambassador of sorts. This was more of a diplomatic incident than anything. If he was to be honest, First in particular would not be missed, but he imagined it could have been anyone. Murder like this could not stand, obviously, but there were greater implications. Al had to handle this situation carefully.

They cut through a narrow alleyway and the two men burst onto the scene. Several other guards were arriving, all of them armed with an improvised firearm. Still, bullets were bullets. Most of the road was empty, with a few people mordibly watching from behind cover as the man from Plaza had begun tearing into the flesh of First with a broken bottle.

"That's enough!" Alcohol shouted, leveling his shotgun at the man. As they had trained, a guard or two would circle behind Pepsi, most likely climbing to a rooftop. One of the guards would try to get ontop of the building Pepsi and First had been in earlier, for sure.

"Toss that bottle to the side, get your hands in the air, and on your knees to the dirt." Alcohol declared, his voice loud but steady. His finger was behind the trigger of the shotgun, the ironsights lining up with Pepsi's wide center of mass.

"Don't test me, boy." He concluded firmly, narrowing his eyes. The mayor took a few steps forward, beginning him and his guards slow approach to try and take the outsider alive.

World of Light

@Archmage MC ok, thank you. i will work on getting a post up soon.

World of Light

ok, i'm a little behind again, but i read up on most of it but i'm having a hard time putting our characters in a concrete location. They just made it past the mario crushing blocks, right? all of them? And now they are on the path directly to peach's castle? That's where the rabbids and the Evil Engineer are, right?

Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]

Alcohol

Alcohol narrowed his eyes as Milk approached. She was sure being brazen about her approach. What did she want? He closed the window and approached the door a few moments after she knocked and opened it. What she was saying was a little hard to make out though the walls, but Alcohol got the gist. He wondered if the threat of rumor was genuine. The door swung open and the sun lit up his frame, casting a stark silhouette on the floor behind him.

"Can I help you?" He asked dryly.

As Alcohol came into view Milk smirked, the corner of her lips mischievous as ever. "Took you long enough.!" she cooed, as she handed him the rock that she had picked up. "Here is a present. Now that I have given you something, you should give something to me." she tapped the side of her chin with her finger, before speaking again, "I need to know where Hemlock is, have you seen her?" Milk asked, her foot stepping forward slightly to perhaps be let into his home.

He glanced down at the rock, giving a cynical chuckle. Alcohol stepped aside. "Come into my office, we'll talk in there." He grabbed a chair leaning against the wall and moved it for Milk to sit in. Then he sat on his chair on the other side of the desk. He considered her question. Hemlock. Yeah, someone he knew probably knew where she was. It's not like she was hard to miss. Still, he couldn't just give out information like that.

"Why do you wanna know?" He asked, setting the stone down on his desk.

Milk sat in the chair Alcohol offered her, her ankles crossing beneath her delicately. She smiled when he placed the stone down on his desk, perhaps he would keep it for awhile? "I need her help." Milk admitted. There was no reason for her to lie. There weren't any devious contexts about the situation they had found themselves in. Milk rested her hands onto her thighs before continuing once more, "Hemlock knows where my friend is, and I need to talk to her. That's it Al, no harm done." her lips pouted slightly as her eyes widened for mercy. She hoped that Alcohol was in a good mood today so that more strings would not have to be pulled. She was already exhausted, and knew that the trouble for the day had really just begun.

Alcohol drummed his fingers for a brief moment, thinking. Obviously, there were limits to telling everybody who came in here where someone was. Generally, he liked to keep his so called "intelligence network" limited to things like missing persons and threats to the town. Personal favors like this were another thing entirely. Especially since, in this case, something was off.

"Just ask her. If Hemlock wanted to help you, she would, right?"

Milk adjusted in her seat, her ankles uncrossing as she leaned forward slightly. "Well." the woman started, her finger digging slightly into the skin of her thigh, "Well, yes she would. However, I don't know WHERE Hemlock is, and that is why I am asking you, because you are the right person to ask." the woman cocked her head slightly as she looked into Alcohol's eyes, her gaze steady before she parted her lips once more, "If you don't think you can help me, by all means just tell me now. I don't want to waste my time, but it's dire to this community that you give me Hem's location. If my friend gets hurt, there is going to be a lot of problems coming." Milk taunted, a small grin forming- her teeth showing ever so slightly. "I don't want any trouble Al, you know I don't want any trouble." she claimed, as she moved her left leg to cross over her right leg to expose a decent amount of thigh.

Al nodded. "Right. You think this person, your friend, whoever they are, are in danger. They might be missing or lost. We can start looking for them. When we find them, we can take them into protective custody, if you'd like. Unless," He averted his gaze, looking down at his desk. He leaned forward onto his desk and laced his fingers together, then he looked back up at Milk. "You think Hemlock is somehow responsible for this persons absence? Because, unless you think someone's life is really in danger, I don't think we can help you." He laying out the rules. What if Milk just wanted to smash Hemlock's face in with a rock? The fact that she was asking for information on Hemlock, and not the as-of-yet unamed missing person was suspicious to the mayor.

Placing her face in the palm of her hand, Milk could do nothing at first but shake her head. Alcohol was unwavering, he was solid. He was hard, but NOT the kind Milk had dealt with so many times before. "No, no. I don't want any of this!" she spoke, feeling a sense of defeat. She removed her head from her palm as she leaned forward and placed a hand warmly on top of Alcohol's intertwined fingers. "I just want my friend home safe, she means a lot to me. I'm sorry for causing a scene. I just thought you.." Milk slipped her hand away slowly, her eyes falling to the floor. "I just thought you'd be different." she finalized her words before raising herself up and out of the chair. "Thanks Al." she cooed, beginning to turn from the desk where he sat.

Alcohol blinked at the hand contact. What was she playing at? Was there some layer he was missing? Still, he knew what he should say, so he did. "Sorry, Milk. If you're friend wants to go somewhere without telling you, they can. I can't make exceptions just because you're my friend. Soon as I start making exceptions..." He let the sentence hang, shrugging.

"If you think this person is in danger from someone, just let an officer know, okay?" His tone softened a bit, though even Alcohol couldn't tell if it was genuine or condescending.

"I will." she said with a nod, and a slight wave of hand. Alcohol was invincible. Milk would have to find Hemlock herself, or leave Twix to rot. Milk walked out of the office, closing the door behind her, Alcohol watching her as she went. Milk used the height of the hill for an advantage for only a moment- her hand reaching up to her brow to cover her eyes from the high light that radiated towards her. The people looked like ants from here, and Milk was ever so sweet. Her adventure would continue as she made her way back down the hill to try to find Hemlock, so that she could eventually find and scold Twix.

Now alone in his office, the Mayor reached and took the rook in his hands, contemplating it. It was a rock, most likely a joke. Once again he opened up the window, looking out at the town. Casually he dropped the rock on the outside, watching it tumble a bit. He saw Milk's form walking away to do whatever she was going to do. An interesting person, to be sure. He hoped it worked out for her, because he doubted her intentions were malicious. Principle, however, was important. Especially to a figure of authority, who's entire existence was built on consistency and principles. After reassuring himself of his decision he closed the window to the outside world and was left to his thoughts once again.

Surviving Stalingrad

yeah sure probably!

Surviving Stalingrad

cyka blyat comrade

Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]

should the RP be set to full? or will there be more people allowed to join in the future?

Steelbird Landing: A Roleplay After The End of it All [18+, 6 player limit!]

Alcohol, Mayor of Steelbird Landing

Al was rubbing his temples, leaning his elbows on the wooden desk, sitting in a wooden chair. The floor was concrete, with some decent rugs scattered about to make it easier to walk on. There were a few windows, with no glass, but instead wooden shutters with curtains on the inside. All of them were currently closed. On the wall behind Al's desk was a painting of a quaint farm, peaceful and serene with easily managable shrubbery and amber waves of grain. There was also a poster, a very old poster made of the old materials, durable, plyable and shiny. On it was a picture of the Steelbird itself, the ancient airplane slumbering somewhere in the jungle, from which the town got it's name. A reminder of things that once were. Al had never had an opportunity to learn to read, but apparently the poster was marketing for an airport, where people used to ride airplanes and fly all over the world.

But here, in the ground floor of the mayor's office, Alcohol was dealing with much more grounded issues. At least, he would like to be, but apparently the boogie man himself was getting ready to bust in and make a mess.

"...so that would be the third this month an alleged monster was spotted outside of town." Twice finished.

"Right." Al grumbled, exasperated. "Dismissed." He waved a hand. Twice swallowed dryly. "That's not all." He spoke up after a brief moment of silence.

Al raised one eyebrow and made eye contact with Twice, expectantly.

"Apparently, according to Coop, this time it talked."

Al didn't seem to react. "It...talked." He slowly said.

Twice nodded.

The mayor raised his hands into the air and put his weight on the back of his chair. "Well. By all means, what did it say?"

Twice hesitated once again. "Harbinge, sir." Al nodded, wisely, as if this was all expected. "Harbinge?"

"Yeah," Twice nodded his head, "Just the word 'harbinge.' Over and over and over again. Allegedly. Apparantly. According to Coop." He distanced himself from the theory.

"Harbinge. Ain't even a real word."

"No, sir, I suspect not."

"That all?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Thanks. See you around, Twice." The messenger guard nodded and exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Al exhaled. Monsters. They talked, now, though they said no words. Coop was either crazy, or something terrible was about to happen. The mayor stood, and locked the door behind Twice with a wooden bar that clunked heavily on two pegs.

Then, he approached the map of Steelbird Landing. It was one of the only maps in a town. A similar map was in the headquarters of the police force. It was hand drawn, a rough representation of the different streets and districts of the town. N, S, E, and W, the letters Alcohol knew to represent the cardinal directions, were marked down as well. There was a little X on a square towards the eastern side of town, which repsented where the mayors office was. Towards the center of town, there was a symbol of a gun that represented where the police office was. A big, bold line surrounded the whole thing that represented the walls, that thinned at the northern and southern points into gates. Around the town, not fully pictured, were the farms of Steelbird that provided the towns food and a lot of jobs.

It was a beautiful town, really. It had it's issues, sure, but it was the best he'd seen. Alcohol might have had something to do with it, but really it was the hard working people of this town that kept everything running. People like Twice. People like Coop, even though he was delusional. Still, to dismiss the notion of encroaching "monsters" outright was to be foolish. Clearly something was happening out there, and perhaps Coop's monster sighting were a side effect of these events. Or, maybe, there was really a horrifice beast on the outside of town saying made up words. What a shitty time that would be, huh?

As his eyes scanned the town, he began thinking about what to do. The patrol was already thinner than he'd like. Could he really afford to have guards on monster patrol? Peeking over the walls at night with lights, hoping to catch a glimpse at some abomination? What if these rumors and sighting amounted to nothing? See the guards looking for monsters would only confirm the rumors in most people's minds. Panic might spread. But if they were true...what would happen then? So far, no guard had seen it, and only a few townspeople had claimed to have spotted it. No guard had spotted it, no one really trustworthy. Just people seeing things in the dark, acts of the maelstrom and drugs, perhaps. So many reasons for it to not be true.

Yet the seed of doubt remained. The primal part of all humans that feared the dark and the monsters that lurk within. The mayor could not allow fear to spread. If one of his guards corroborated these tales, than yes, he would act. Until then, the town's guard detail would continue to be the well-oiled machine it was today. Of all the things the Mayor had done, revamping the police was the thing he was perhaps most proud of. No longer were they the lazy, apathetic brutes of old who were just bullies in uniform. Now, they were loyalists, benefactors of the community who did fine work to help keep the town safe. It was important to get that right; the police were representatives of the law, and by extension, everything Alcohol believed in. The town had to like them, had to trust them, for this whole thing to work.

Alcohol turned and pulled open a wooden shutter. The sun poured in and his eyes adjusted to the bright outside lighting. The mayors office was on a slight hill, and it was a taller building than most, so he could see over the rooftops of many of the houses. He could see some people milling around, going about their business. And on the very edge, he could the walls, and beyond that, the mysterious jungle. Somewhere in that jungle there were monsters. Metaphorical monsters and perhaps literal monsters as well. Al couldn't tell which was worse, which one he would choose to deal with. The good news was he wouldn't have to choose; the choice was being made for him.