Vertigo

Expedition to Isekai

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Alright, apparently it didn't even work as a distraction. Asahi practically ignored him in favour of entertaining the crazy wannabe cult leader, something he'd literally just told the pinkette not to do. Visibly annoyed, Duncan lowered his arm and heaved a heavy sigh. Man, if it was this easy to rile the guy up, he sure hoped whatever they were about to encounter at the mountain couldn't talk.

At least Ayana finally left. Or... was leaving, before Asahi inexplicably called her back. Duncan whirled around to stare at him, his expression spelling out a "what the fuck" before he could put it into words.

Asahi ignored that, too, pitching him a change of plans instead. Ayana would go with Asahi. He would stay at the camp. Duncan was taken aback, his gaze flicking between Asahi and Ayana in surprise. She hadn't... exactly offered to come with them, so he wasn't sure where this idea was coming from. Was he planning on getting rid of her once they were alone or something?

Duncan was quiet for a moment despite himself. He had to admit, it... sounded good on paper. If he agreed, he wouldn't need to go after all. He could stay with Haruko and his friends, could sleep in late and make sure nothing attacked the others in the dark of the night again. He could go back to his cigs and Kumi's cooking.

A weight was lifted from his shoulders.

“Don’t be a coward now.”

Only to crash right back down, twice as heavy. Man, what was he thinking? The hell kind of a man would go back on his word not five minutes later?! How many promises was he just straight up not going to keep?

"I mean, it's not the worst idea. But, dude, she just went on a whole-ass tirade about not wanting to split the group. Don't think she's exactly frothing at the mouth to skip camp with you. 'Sides, I—" he hesitated, rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck. "I already said I'm going. Said my cheesy-ass goodbyes and everything. So."

He started walking, afraid that if they didn't get a move on now, they never fucking would. The further he was from camp, the smaller the temptation to turn back around to it. "Guess you're stuck with me."

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

That's the best feeling tbh! Much better than the reverse, which is also sadly common...

Would Fellwing know about the things Heliotrope is referring to, re: the festival and the political stuff?

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

<Snipped quote by Vertigo>

Yeah, that's how you get the bad ending xP

Also, are you going to add anything or are you waiting for me to post? Just want to be clear.

@XxFellsingxX

TPK in Epyllion is a go!

Nah, but, Fellwing's waiting for Heliotrope's answer and not going to actually involve herself with the family stuff (as interested as I am as a player). So just waiting atm!

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

<Snipped quote by Vertigo>

I mean Garrock isn't really doing anything at the moment. He's just keeping an eye on Maug, and trying not to engage with Rudrick.

@XxFellsingxX

For now, until Fellwing starts to ask increasingly invasive questions about his family life.

SPIRITUM

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Morden caught her drift without further instruction, and Silje watched in giddy awe as the behemoth of a WARDEN spun around with the bot. It reminded her of a dance, a violent, turbulent tango. Silje made a mental note to ask him for lessons sometime. She'd always been told she had two left feet, but with speed like that, you didn't need feet at all.

Her companion let go of their target, and Silje refocused. The robot skid, unable to stop itself, and the battlemage watched its form get splattered with colour as it crossed into the pocket. It was like watching the birth of a painting from a master's brush, but a million times as fast. Everything happened in seconds.

Right. A painting. With frames. The instant that thought popped in her head, lines of mist gathered around the pocket as if framing it, trapping in both the robot and the explosion. Hopefully — no, for sure — it would hold. She didn't know much about a lot of things, but she knew mist, knew how to mold it, and she was nothing if not determined to preserve her little artwork for the brief moment the explosion lasted.

Burny McBurnyface, she would call it.

Rerun: Blackguards!

Cliche as it is, I've a halfling rogue/assassin idea for this! Potentially one specialized in mage slaying.

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

Oh god, are we really planning to let Fellwing deal with Garrock?

This can only end well.

Chronicles of the Six: Magic’s Awakening: A Magical Boy RP. Reboot

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Fenghuang's sudden shout drew a hiss from the miniature dragon, his body coiling upward and teeth baring in alarm. Before he could lunge at the bird, however, human hands wrapped around his long form and lifted him off his feet.

"The fuck are you?" Noah squinted down at the creature practically dangling in his arms, then at the rest of the strange menagerie that now surrounded them. "Any of you?!"

Suddenly, Eli's alien abduction theory didn't seem so far fetched anymore. Though he'd always imagined aliens more scary and insectoid than... small and squishy. Like holy shit this thing was squishy. Reminded him of jelly.

"This ain't the beer, Conner!" Noah shouted back a little more defensively than was needed, confusion palpable in his voice. Before he could continue, though, a dolphin flew towards them and started going on about a magical realm and the elements and— shit, did any of the alcohol get spirited away with them?

At "the most powerful" part of Chesi's explanation, the little dragon in Noah's arms growled proudly, mouth opening just enough to let go of Noah's sleeve, which he had all but destroyed by now. He indicated at his chest with a paw. Not that Noah noticed; his attention was kind of stolen by his friends going through entire fucking Sailor Moon transformations, coming out looking like drama club kids on a freaky Friday.

And then they were attacked by a bear.

Milo took the fucks right out of his mouth. Noah took back a few steps out of reflex, the familiar rush of adrenaline sending him reeling. He'd been in his share of fights before, and so, he hastily reached for his pocket — only to not find his knife there. How?! He always had his knife! Holy shit, if he got mauled by a bear because he used the damn thing to cut open sausages over a stupid-ass campfire and forgot it there, he was going to be pissed. And dead. But pissed first.

The dragon, the dotori-muk looking little motherfucker, was roaring up a storm, and Noah's gaze flickered from it to the monster. A little ways away, his friends were wielding actual magic to fend off the thing. The dragon kept roaring. Right. He understood what it was trying to say. What it wanted him to do.

"All you, lil guy," Noah said, pulled his arm back, and yeeted the dragon straight towards the bear's face. Something, something food chain, right?

Expedition to Isekai

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A what now?

Duncan blinked at the mere accusation, straightening enough to catch the look on Haruko's face — but not for long, before she pulled him back down for a kiss. Well. It was more a quick brush of the lips, but considering his Japanese classmates' stance on public displays of affection... huh. Maybe this place's influence wasn't all bad. He was about to pull Haruko closer, to push his luck, but she gave him no chance to do so, already a step or two away. Damnit.

At her little quip, Duncan raised his arms in mock-defense. "Whoa, alright! Promising to quit was before we got spirited away into freakshow land. There's gotta be a clause for that."

He wanted to say something more, was sure she did too. But sometimes, when you couldn't say everything, it was easier to say nothing.

"Try not to to miss me too much. I can probably hear if you cry, you know."

Well, almost nothing.

—

He and Asahi were barely out of camp when they encountered their first — and probably craziest — obstacle on their journey. Ayana; because unlike some of the others, Duncan still refused to refer to her by the name she'd adapted. Doing so would've felt like validating her delusions, and he wasn't about to be an enabler.

Or a coward.

"I mean, you said it. It ain't like you're gonna stop us. And if you're so damn worried about everyone, maybe spend less time advertising your cult and more time scouting or killing shit or whatever." Duncan shrugged a shoulder, about to keep walking, when Asahi started shouting next to him, feet firmly planted on the ground. Great. Didn't the guy know there was no arguing with the crazy? Weird as it was, Ayana sounded pretty damn genuine in her worry, meaning she had to believe in her own bullshit. And if so, wasn't anything they could do to convince her otherwise.

"C'mon, you're just giving her attention. Let it fucking go and move that famous ass, dude. We're wasting time." He went to try and wrap an arm around Asahi's shoulders and drag him forward if that's what it took. Wasn't like it'd be the first time he had to manhandle the guy. "Got great weather for a morning jog. Gets us there faster."

Not that... Asahi seemed to be the jogging type, really. Unless—

A grin spread on Duncan's face. "Bet your boyfriend would appreciate you comin' back all toned from a run, huh?"

He wasn't sure if it would actually work as motivation, but hopefully, it'd at least work as a distraction.

SPIRITUM

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She'd done it. She'd made a cat.

Silje managed a brief glimpse of its whiskered face, the feline smile on its lips, before it all melted down into inky goo — and shot towards her. She gasped, stomach lurching so violently she feared it might jump up her throat. The world shook and spun, and then there was no world at all. Just the distinct sound of her aegis, cracking.

The next Silje knew, she was lying on her back, blinking up at a smoke-filled sky. Gerard's voice came from somewhere nearby. Physically nearby. Val was there too. Silje wanted to wave at her friend and laugh at her oopsie, but her head was spinning, she felt sick, and she wasn't done mourning her cat.

Being attacked by murderous robots did make the grieving process faster, though. Silje turned her head in time to see one of the robots swinging towards her, only for Morden to intercept it with a drop kick. The robot staggered backwards. Somewhere off to the side, the rest of the squad was engaging the other robot — or so she assumed, as per Val's orders.

Speaking of, Silje hadn't really paid attention when they'd been taught how to effectively and clearly communicate on the battlefield, so all she gave in response was a quick, chipper: "Okie!"

She stretched, pulling herself to sit. The robot Morden had kicked was difficult to look at: just behind it, a mist pocket thrummed with the intense colours of an inferno, reds and oranges and yellows.

... Hm.

"Mordie! Can you kick it back again? Just a teeny tiny inch, and then—"

Silje watched the red hues dance. Under her gaze, they started to crackle and expand hungrily, phantom fire waiting to be unleashed. And once the robot crossed that threshold...

"Boom."