Whimsley

~Battle of the Supernatural~ Accepting.

I say we give him 5 to 7 days to respond, I think that's the custom. Who else hasn't been able to post yet? Mr. Pink? Anyone else?

Here We Go Adventuring!

Enior sipped upon his mug of ale, leaning backward into his chair and placing crossed legs onto the table. The elf's hood was pulled behind his pointed tan ears, and a veil hung precariously from the collar of the hood. He exchanged stories boisterously with the fellow adventurers at the table, not to be outdone in his own right. Slamming the table, pointing at the patrons, kicking his chair legs and likely falling out of his seat more than a few times. The large fellow at the head of the table was beautifully simplistic in his way of understanding, which Enior was all the more appreciative for. He would rather drink with simple folk than haughty nobles or scholars any day of the week. The elf balanced on the back two legs of his chair, leaning to and from the bar table filled with meats, cheeses, and alcohol for all.

Lost in the merriment, Enior had gone past the point of no return. A dopey smile spread across his face, and the room spun slowly unless he focused on a particular point. The wild turns of his heads lagged, vision having to catch up to the speed of his movement. Still he continued in the storytelling, never to be outdone, always part of the crowd culture. Abruptly, an off switch to the party: some armor-clad hooligan believed he was to stop their enjoyment. Just as Enior attempted to stagger in protest, the table rose from underneath his legs and sent him flying backward toward the wall. The drunken elf was caught balanced on the back of his neck, feet against the wall and arms hanging to either side.

He performed an awkward roll sideways and sat up, shaking his head violently. Enior discovered the showstopper had been slammed by the powerful barbarian! The elf gave Kodor an emphatic thumbs up, then pointed to the guard underneath the splinters of wood that remained. "Ho! A celebration then!" Enior said. Pushing himself up with his hands, Enior allowed gravity to drag him towards the fallen guardsman. Hands drooping and looking sporadically about the crowd, Enior began to perform a sort of river dance about the fallen guard, surrounding him like a shark in water, laughing all the way. "Here's to the people!" Enior said, body swaying to the festivities of alcohol.

Rings of Fate

@Lady Athena

So when you stuck your sword in the ceiling, where were you? I was assuming you were in the Krunk mobile at the time, which is why there was no reaction from me.

Rings of Fate

@Lady Athena

Just to clarify, Eleanor is still in the Krunk mobile and never came outside with the rest of the group, right? I'm also confused about why Eleanor is so injured.

Scattered Shades: Arcadia Chronicles

Arcadia

_{Southern Gate}

Jäger took a seat beside the many Junkers, surveying the details of the ATV. It was a marvel of machinery, more than spaciously accommodating the individuals within it. The defensive capabilities, for a mobile vehicle, outclassed everything Jäger had seen in the capital. If Jäger hadn't been raised in a temple, it would've been likely a life as a Machinist would've been for him. There was no reason he couldn't appreciate and dabble, though. The monk stared at the blast doors that Haley called toward, and wondered what sort of forces they could withstand. What kind of forces the ATV could withstand, and what sort of forces were ahead, outside of the walls. Surely, their vehicle was enough to trump any threat ahead. Where it could not, however, Jäger would. He swiped his hand against the leathery tome attached to his metal chain belt, and remained silent for the moment. There was no reason to interject in the conversation with Haley and Nicolas, as he had nothing to report. Perhaps, then, he would study his surroundings. Jäger took to analyzing the Junkers as he had before at HQ, sizing up their capabilities and how they might be supported and, worst case scenario, subdued.

Pokemon: Rise of the Rebellion

@DarthSeverus394

For moves, are you thinking pokémon are capable of using any move they learn while leveling up, or are you also allowing them to have TM/HM moves?

Pokemon: Rise of the Rebellion

Indigo Samson

Indigo reset his footing upon hearing the voice calling from a distance. A rustle emitted from the bush, and he swore under his breath. He'd been found, but by whom? He peeked his head above the thick shrubbery he was hiding it to spot a faint outline, no two, in the distance. Judging by the situation, whoever was calling out to him had a pokémon who had a strong sense of smell. It was the only way Indigo could have been detected. Poochyena? Houndour? Or perhaps it could see in the dark, or was had someone seen him enter the brush somehow? There were many possibilities. Indigo tapped the pokéball on his leather belt, faint clicks sounding in beat. No, not yet. There were chances that this was another rebel sympathizer, or someone neutral in the war. To give Indigo the chance to reveal himself before attacking seemed too clever for a Regime scout. Maybe they were testing the waters and hadn't actually seen him, no, that was unlikely. Indigo had been roused, what was the right response?

After a time, Indigo stood from the bush he was hiding in, avoiding any faint beams of light coming through the canopy above. He gripped his pokéball with one hand, the other hanging loosely beside of him. It was enough to hide the technology without seeming suspicious. His shoes crunched leaves underfoot as he hurdled a final branch within the entanglement. His feet pointed directly forward, shoulders poised, torso slightly turned away. Indigo stopped just before one of the sources of moonlight, giving his body a faint white outline in the perspective of onlookers. He adjusted his black lenses and scratched his noise, flicking a splinter from the bridge. Indigo coughed. More silence, more crickets. Suddenly, there was a breach in the contract of quiet. "Who are you? It makes a man wary to suggest anyone might get hurt" Indigo said. He voluntarily failed to introduce himself in the meantime, sizing up the situation instead.

Madam Lilith School for Supernatural

@dragonmancer

???

Your back hit the cold stone at the bottom of the spire, producing an echo down the hallway. A candle in the distance flickered. Another flicker, from a closer candle. A trick of the eyes? You wondered if your mind played games with you as you swore the area around you became more dark. The candles seemed to dim Difficult to see now. Shadows crept closer, or was that the wind shifting the flame of candles. Your primal instincts screamed the longer you sat there motionless, nothing staring back at you.

Rings of Fate

Krunk Fortress

_{And the fury?}

The glassy stare of Zerraf contended with Krink's willpower. A master of suspense, Zerraf continued to stare wordless, motionless, left hand softly hovering just above his cloak pocket. The shrieking became louder, coming from the side, a build up. A slow blink from the wind mage. You could hear his eyelids colliding, reopening as a castle gate before a moat. Half-open, slouched, Zerraf's mask shifted. Shrieking.

His hair became more wild. Wind picking up, gusts, more noise. Zerraf's cloak ruffled against his body as he picked up his hand as a crane, slowly, coming to eye-level with Krink over agonizing moments. A drooping finger, pointed directly at Krink's head, less than an inch away. Just in front of that stone face, those unmoving eyes. The sound was deafening now, nature's cry. An exhale of breath creeping from behind Zerraf's mask. Words:

"Where do you keep your blankets?"

Rings of Fate

Krunk Fortress

_{The sound}

Zerraf's eyes remained locked on Krink as they always had throughout the battle, the dual explosions unfurling the white hair beneath his wide brim cap. The wind mage moved a drooping bang to the side of his face, using the flintlock as an improvised hand. He set the flintlock in front of him to reload, again as if it were on invisible, buoyant string. A soft breeze shuffled Zerraf's bangs. The same dead, glazed stare confronting the golden doctor. Zerraf stepped forward.

Again, red boots against green grass. The blades of grass separating with each tread. Zerraf squinted, not at the minions, at Krink. Always Krink. The gun was loaded and fell back into his palm. He kept it facing downward. Zerraf was in front of everyone now. "Oh-yo. Not all of us, hm," Zerraf said in response to Jenso. A faint shrieking was heard in the distance, off to the side, like a scream in the wilderness.

He trudged past his allies, and through the minions if they allowed it. He did not confront them with his eyes. Only Krink. That same glazed look. That slouched posture and heavy footing. Grass underfoot, slight breeze, shrieking into crescendo. His trudge was slow, and easy to intercept. Given they fought, Zerraf would respond in kind. If not, he would continue his stare down with Krink, until he was mere inches from his face.