STATUS:
Say "thanks," when they compliment you and smile. Watch more of what's going on around you instead of staying inside your head. If eye contact's hard, stare at her forehead.
16 days ago
Current
Say "thanks," when they compliment you and smile. Watch more of what's going on around you instead of staying inside your head. If eye contact's hard, stare at her forehead.
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1 mo ago
@ColdAtlus: Cheems.
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2 mos ago
If commissioning an artist isn't possible, could look into using AI and then editing what it puts out. Lots of ppl are salty about AI art so maybe use a disclaimer, but it's an option.
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2 mos ago
1-liners become impossible if you actually write. What're your characters' 5 senses picking up? What emotions/thoughts do they have as they speak? What body language do they show? No bulli, just fact.
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2 mos ago
In the AI era, you can only get ghosted if you choose to be.
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Bio
On CST time, United States. Typically busy most of the week and do most posting/replying on weekends.
Also should ask, are we supposed to fill in the descriptions of skills ourselves, or are we gonna find those out another way?
This is what I'm hoping Dalton crying out to the RNGesus will accomplish. I feel like there's gotta be some kind of Standard Isekai Blue Screen involved, otherwise it'd be difficult for our characters to ever initiate their abilities intentionally?
The thought process is pretty simple. Dalton can just fuck off to another part of the forest, but Minami can’t fuck off to another castle. Also, it’s funnier to foist this sorta situation onto someone more likely to lose their shit, and Minami’s more likely to lose her shit than Dalton.
You vastly overestimate Dalton's ability to keep his shit together. He's already talking to himself for Chrissakes!
@King Cosmos@Kazemitsu@ERode The emboldened Esfir seemed to decide that she would continue into the depths of the cave, whereas Akeno decided it was time to stop taking risks. The little group of Runts seemed intent on separating for now, but hopefully they would all survive to meet back at the camp later.
As Esfir creeped into the cave, further than Lazash and Vola had, she would pass the same Ore Deposit that the Flak Beetle's explosive demise had damaged. And, as her feet carefully, quietly, carried her along the narrow passage, something bounced away from her ankle. It seemed there were three more pieces of the damaged ore that had probably been blown further down the tunnel, in the shadows of the wall where Lazash and Vola had barely missed them.
Obtained Raw Chalcopyrite Ore x3!
She exited the narrow passage into the winding, upward sloping chamber. As she kept close to the wall, Esfir would soon notice how smooth it felt under her touch--and, in some of the uneven crags and nooks of the rock, her other senses told her more that her eyes could not see. Though dry, the rock was quite cool to the touch, and her nostrils could smell the faintest whiff of stagnant water or damp sediment.
The smooth floor rose around the bend like a spiral staircase designed by a drunkard with no measuring tools, then opened up into a long tunnel, almost a natural hallway. Its upward slope continued, though at a lesser grade, and here and there stalactites and stalagmites formed a sort of stony forest. They were all smooth and...almost milky, to the touch. Some of them had points that came to sharper tips, or at least thin enough that they might pass for sharp if they weren't wet. She could hear dripping water somewhere.
The temperature and texture of this rocky tunnel seemed to imply that water from higher up the mountains had worked its way through the stone over time; thus, rather than go deeper and deeper into the earth like some kind of crypt, it had probably emptied out into the valley at some point just like that waterfall they had seen, joining the meandering stream and heading downhill into the forest. So if the Runts continued to follow this cave, they'd be climbing up into the mountain.
However, past this point, the sunlight from the outside could no longer reach. Esfir had only the barest indication of her surroundings, and to go further without a light would leave her blind and groping. She did not hear the roar again. However, even her hushed breaths felt like they might carry for some distance in the long, smooth walls of the dark stone hall. There was, somewhere in that gloom, a quiet scuttling, insectoid in nature--but telling distance, or size, was impossible for the moment. Water dripped.
Meanwhile, Akeno spoke to Grunthor, who was looking a bit sickly, then made her way at a jog back towards the forest and the camp. It had taken them around an hour to reach this valley, but that had been uphill and with more careful observation of their surroundings. Now that she had identified the paths and perils of the locale, Akeno moved much more swiftly. Down the gravelly slopes, across rocky outcrops, down into the scrubby grass...soon she was quite close to the treeline, as the sun above her lingered at almost exactly high noon. The mountainous air was still pleasant, but the heat of the day was rising a little bit and her exertions had worked up a sweat. She got the feeling that, had she not taken the Stamina Point upgrade when she leveled up, that she would probably have needed a rest by this point after all the day's activities.
But, even so, it was nothing a good breather wouldn't fix. As she continued back in the direction of the area where the group had cooked their first meal, no doubt her eyes would be peeled for any more prey she might be able to take with less effort and risk to herself than whatever was lingering in that cave.
And, because she was coming down from a higher elevation, she had a nice view of the trees that would've been hard to pick out from the ground. On one such tree, coiled around a branch that stuck out over empty space without much foliage to cover it, was a Tatzelwurm in the process of sunning itself. The cat-serpent was not only looking away from Akeno's direction, but also had its eyes closed...
The Forest
@Rune_Alchemist@Timemaster As Carmina sung yet again, there was a strange buzzing sensation deep within her--something was off with that flow of power she'd experienced. And then her voice hitched for a moment in her throat, one of those sudden breaks a singer doesn't expect until it hits them seemingly at random.
Error. Skill [Sing] cannot inflict [Sleep] at this Rank.
Your MP is Low.
Nonetheless, Svarok followed through on their unspoken plan. With a running start and the torque of all her small body's muscle, she hurled the poison-tipped spear at the retreating goblin!
And she overshot.
Or she would have, if the goblin hadn't been running full tilt, and if the creature hadn't been running in a completely straight line due to its panic. With even a modicum of survival sense to zig or zag, it might've avoided the lethal weapon. But as it was, an arcing throw that would have sailed over its head instead caught it in the back just as it was trying to put on a burst of speed! The not inconsiderable force of an Orc Runt, combined with gravity, combined with with the sharp point of the stone wedged between wood, punctured the skinny green monster's hide. It only went in about three, perhaps four inches at most--and that was enough to pierce muscle and internals. The goblin went down with a scream.
He was still twitching, coughing blood, but death seemed a certainty. Gasping and pleading unintelligibly, he clawed the ground and inched forward, even as the two runts would no doubt close in to confirm the kill. By the time they got there, he had convulsed, and bled, and died.
In addition to the goblin's more obvious belongings, he had something in his pouch like the poison gunk from before, but it wasn't the same substance. Instead, a large hollowed nut shell, wrapped in a broad leaf, held a waxy substance that was pale and off white in color. It smelled slightly fruity.
I'll be working on a post soon for @Timemaster and @Rune_Alchemist, and probably @King Cosmos since Akeno is breaking away from the cave group! If others can get their updates in as well I can probably respond this weekend!
With a metaphysical thump, Dalton's long fall suddenly came to an end. He blinked with eyes that did not feel real--only now that all sensation seemed to have come to an end did he notice that subtle lack of his eyelids flicking together, of the slight warmth and wet of physical eyeballs in his skull, and the off-red shade of darkness he no longer saw when he closed the aforementioned eyes.
He was back in the car, with one of the trunk's front wheels nestled firmly in his lap. There was hardly any door, or windshield, left to speak of. Yet despite the literal tons of crumpled steel on top of him, there was no weight. And no color to anything around him. Somehow, he "stepped out" by desiring it...and, with curious, echoing steps, circled the totaled remains of his car and the only slightly dented truck that had reduced his real body to only so much bloodied mush and viscera painted all over the seats.
He turned away from the gristly sight, and saw a door of golden light open up. On the other side stood what could only be described as...
"...Is that cosplay?" he asked the golden armored, black winged figure, his voice echoing in the emptiness. The figure cocked his head with an expectant smile, and Dalton's ghostly form shivered. With a rich voice, the man--or whatever he was, because something about him simply screamed not human--seemed to examine Dalton and commented on his life. The young man jumped as his own voice echoed all around him--bits and pieces of his final thoughts from moments ago. Yet with each line that was quoted back to him, something inside his being...resonated.
Another voice bubbled up, this one coming from inside Dalton's own phantom ribcage. He looked down at himself, then back at the figure who offered him an outstretched hand, backlit by the glowing gateway's golden rays.
Dalton had allowed so many opportunities to pass him by in life. He'd never taken risks, because he'd always been taught to be "smart," and "safe." He never made deals or promises, or signed any kind of contract, unless he was absolutely sure it would be of 100% benefit to himself.
This time, he decided not to hesitate. He grabbed Drasil's outstretched hand. And the next thing he knew--
??? Forest ???
A humanoid male with blue, braided hair and a lithe young physique awakened with a sudden start--like someone dozing off in a moving vehicle, whose unconscious mind triggered their falling reflex when it felt their heart slowing down. He jerked and sputtered, leaves drifting out of his hair as he sat upright and sucked a deep breath.
"JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH!" Dalton turned his head this way and that. "I'm--I'm alive?! Wait, where--wh-what? H-how?" He scrambled to his feet--and then noticed that he wore nothing but a skirt of woven grass, and primitive sandals made of knotted cane strips. "GOOD LORD I'M NAKED!?" He crossed his thin arms over his bare chest, and again took in the sights and sounds around him--and the smells, too, and something else he couldn't quite identify, but that tickled his awareness as if some new organ had been implanted in him. It was all...so much sharper than he was used to on Earth.
Wait. Earth. This...this isn't Earth anymore. This is...Vecta?
He could see the thick, interlaced canopy of limbs and leaves and vine over his head with exquisite detail, and despite the golden rays of sunlight filtering through in dappled patterns the glare didn't hurt his eyes. Bird calls, the whispery breath of the wind, and the slightest rustle of the undergrowth stood out to his twitching ears. And they were literally twitching--as he lifted a hand to brush the leaves from his hair, he felt a long fleshy tip under his palm. Not only were his ears longer than before, they were much more mobile. He gulped as they drooped, the tips folding ever so slightly.
The smells of earthy soil, vegetation still damp with dew, and his own sweat filled his nostrils. Chronic allergies from childhood had left Dalton with a quite diluted sense of smell back home, but here, in this new world, in what appeared to be a new body, that was no longer the case. All of these new senses, sharpened to new levels, threatened to overwhelm him!
He sat back down right where he was.
"Alright. Okay. You're alive. So...focus." Dalton whispered to himself. He peered carefully into the depths of the wood, hoping that nothing bigger and meaner than a junkyard dog would be coming his way anytime soon.
"You got hit by a truck. Then a glowing guy showed up and said something about a new world. And the other voice talked about skills." said one part of him, cool and analytical.
"Legendary skills, at that!" said another part, which was starting to get more excited. "I think we've been Isekai'd! Hot diggity!"
"But where are we? Aside from, you know, in the middle of the woods." Dalton added, reigning in his emotional side. "Should we...try to find our way out? To civilization?"
"All those bushcraft videos on Youtube say we need shelter first, then clean water." said the analytical part, metaphorically pushing up its glasses with two fingers. "And, if we have indeed been isekai'd, we need to figure out what that entails. We clearly have enhanced senses, so maybe there are other abilities?"
Dalton's inner voices all nodded in agreement, so he stopped talking to himself and instead looked for the nearest source of shelter. Were there any caves nearby, or a tree with a hollow large enough for him to huddle inside? At the very least, fallen branches he could use to make an impromptu shield against the elements?
As he looked, he spoke his thoughts out loud again--but not to himself, this time.
"Uh, System? Menu? Status Screen? Cultivation Arts?" he asked the air. "Query: What is Skill, [Combat Sense]? Please?"
I think Belo's Drasil's favorite though... Just a hunch. xD
Nah, the big D's all about letting his subjects claw their way up by their own merits--he was totally vibing with Dalton's incoming underdog-to-top-dog campaign! >:D
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