one more five horu drive to home...then ill stop spamming the status bar. promise. go back to only updating it once every few months
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2 yrs ago
back in my home state. actually a real nice hotel compared to the last one that had cockroaches in the bathroom. so thats cool and good. ready to get home tomorrow. blehhhhjgkjgkjhatk
edit: This is me dropping out of the RP, by the way. Another one I'm interested has recently been created and I don't want this one to take up a "slot" for my RP's, as it were. Thanks for the story, some pretty cool ideas here
Well, I'm sure Natalia will be super totally grateful for the help, lol. I'm sure Aramis and Nat can swap details, though I think the inner workings of their stuff might be a little different. And Katelin can probably just help Nat crawl onto the back of this thing once Aramis helps flips it over with his cool gizmos.
We can only post once per world update right? If so, then it'll be one world update of preparing to get ready, and then the one after that the armor will be able to step in and really start to fight.
Ooookay! My post is up! I like my characters so far. I decided to make Natalia a little helpless at the start. That way she's forced to interact with somebody herself. Right now she can't do anything until her armor is flipped on it's back, but it would be kind of hard for one of the others characters to guess that considering she hasn't asked for help.
Cold. Something cold was digging into her bare spine. Furrowing her brow, Kay crinkled her nose and sneered. Her eyes were closed and she had been breathing rhymically just a few seconds ago but it was clear something had disturbed her slumber. Sleepily, her eyes opened. Ouch. She was wearing a crop top, and the natural curve of her spine wasn't enough to prevent it from being jammed by rocks. Sitting up, she rubbed her head and glanced around. She hunched into her shelf and grimaced, shuddering as she heard an abominable shriek. Glancing upwards she caught a glimpse of the horrific woman-beast above her. She scrambled away just in time, running away. There were others around here, but Kay's mind was reeling. What the hell just happened? Where was she? Wasn't she in the middle of something? She was carving a staff to go with her traditional garments, right? Well, that was long gone. Not like it would be much use- without a magic crystal it was just a stick. Someone, a woman in red, told her to get up and Kay had no intention of disobeying. Especially since she spoke with such a commanding prescence. Maybe she knew what was going on?
Kay, breathing heavily, glanced back towards the spider. The woman in red armor was lunging toward the beast. An ally! Kay had never seen such a creature before, but she had read stories of half-person, half-beast abominations that roamed the hills. She had even met some before. The snake men of the eastern swamps were particularly nasty. The centaurs weren't so bad though. They reminded her and the Druid Elves.
Shaking her head of this distraction, Kay got back to the moment at hand. "Uhhh!" She shouted. She had hoped to say something cool like the sword woman but instead she just made a loud, confused noise. Well, whatever!
Raising her hands, she summoned a protective Structure barrier around the sword woman Saria. It would not restrict her movement at all, and in case she was overcome by the beasts strength it would deflect some of the damage, depending on how much was done to her. The tattoos on Kay's body, particularly on the arm she had raised and pointed at Saria, began to glow a dull green. This sucked! Kay was afraid and confused, but she had a fighter's instinct nonetheless. Normally, however, the battles she fought made sense. This made no sense at all.
Natalia
Natalia had woken up only a few moments ago. Staring up at the ceiling, she saw the spider beast above her. A dream? It certainly felt real. Using her arms, she grunted and pushed herself into a sitting position. Slowly, she scanned the room around her. People, of all different shapes and sizes. Curious. Beside her, her Powered Armor. Dull. Empty. Powered off. A useless pile of junk, right now. Right now, she felt she was in danger. The beast shrieked. Those around her began to battle it. Natalia did not dream often.
Someone told her to get up. That person did not know that Natalia was missing her left leg from the knee down. That swordwoman also did not know that it wouldn't matter, because Natalia's legs were paralyzed. It had been a while since Natalia had to crawl on the ground. The Powered Armor next to her was a hulking gray behemoth, standing eight feet tall at least. Unfortunately, it was laying on it's back. Natalia could only enter the Powered Armor via it's back. The entire thing would open up and she could crawl inside. Usually, she would have the help of several other smaller drones. Now, she was by herself. The beast was closing in.
Suddenly, there was a green surge of energy all around her. Natalia and the Powered Armor were slid along the ground by some kind of glowing verdant scooper. Ten, twenty, thirty feet away. Natalia tried to keep steady but she ended up rolling and flopping around. Her and the Powered Armor slid to a stop well outside the combat zone.
"Sorry!" A cosplayer shouted an apology at Natalia. She was dressed as a fantasy character, with fake ears and everything. Let's be logical here. If the spider beast is real, than it stands to reason the elf woman, and everyone else in here, is real too. Perhaps, Natalia thought, she had been kidnapped and taken into another dimension. Or it was a dream. Either way, she needed to get into the Powered Armor.
"Abi," Natalia said. Her voice was low and monotone. "Activate Powered Armor." She said to the suit. Nothing happened. As she suspected, the armor would need to be turned on manually. Otherwise, it would already be on. The power to this thing was completely off. If Natalia remembered correctly, she had the suit connected to her home's power supply when she was looking through a telescope. At the time she was sitting on her wheelchair, the back wheel was brushing up against the suit's foot. Perhaps she was fortunate to have the suit available to her at all.
Either way, she lacked the strength to lift the suit. While Kay wore her fantastical verdent outfit, Saria had her armor, and the others in the room were decked out in various ways, Natalia was wearing a grey tank top, and some jeans. The left leg of the jeans was hemmed shut just below the knee. She hadn't anything resembling a warrior's frame. All of the ruckus had caused her grey tank top to ride up a bit on her torso, revealing her flat, soft midriff that matched her unmuscled bare arms. From a single glance a warrior could tell she had never been in a fight before. Despite being totally vulnerable and useless, in a life or death situation, Natalia was remarkably composed. Her cool eyes, light blue, almost gray, watched the encounter dispassionately. The sooner Natalia could get inside her armor, the better. Most of the people in the room were most likely distracted by the hybrid creature. Still, if they looked over to the far right of the room they would see Natalia with her right arm draped over the chest of her Powered Armor, leaning on it for support.
Alejandra glanced around, scratching at her beanie. The two girls had woven into the crowd, moving from person to person to get to the front. AJ had Clara by the hand was leading the way, excusing and pardoning herself forward. She wanted to hear what was going on, and be closer to the event. Standing on the outskirts meant she might as well not even be there. It was showing her support, sure, but why not actually hear what was going on, too?
Clara didn't think it was worth it at all. She would have much preferred to stay on the outskits. All these people around her, with no stealing allowed? It was making her claustrophobic. She stopped and turned around, her eyes scanning the faces behind her.
AJ, who was dragging Clara by the hand, was forced to a stop. "What is it?" She asked. Clara wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
"Nothin'," Clara responded idly. For a moment there she felt like she was being watched. But there was nothing but a sea of people who hardly even noticed she existed. Anonymity. Clara loved vanishing into crowds. So why was she so on edge? Maybe it was because the last time she was in a place she didn't belong, she puked up blood. Either way, the young thief was on edge. AJ, being omniscient and all powerful, noticed this.
"You have to relax, Clara. We're here to pay our respects." AJ said.
Clara shook her head, scratching the back of her neck. "I dunno, AJ. Maybe you're not thinkin' this through. Ain't you the one who said other people could have new powers? What if they showed up here, too? What if they find me?"
AJ considered this and furrowed her brow. "I don't- I don't, I don't think that'll happen. How could they know? That, look, that doesn't matter. Just chill out for a second. We're here to show solidarity."
Clara frowned. "I don't feel solidarity. I feel too crowded," Clara complained.
AJ tsked her tongue, letting that one slide. "We're here to show support. Lots of people lost someone, and lots of people almost lost someone, including me. You said you would do this, remember?"
Clara rolled her eyes and then looked down at her earnest sister. "Yeah, I did. For you, I guess." With that, she shut up. AJ smiled and found a small clearing. Then they stood there, waiting for the event to start. Clara crossed her arms and put her weight onto one leg. AJ was right. She just needed to chill out. Nothing was going to happen. Everything would be fine. It would be rude and disrespectful to do anything other than mourn. Sighing, the young thief began, for the first time, to genuinely think about the attacks and the negative pyschological effect it had on her. Was she traumatized? Would this memorial help her heal? Clara didn't feel traumatized. The gas attack did suck, though. A lot. The worst pain she had ever felt in her life. Now imagine all the kids her age choking on that stuff, and not getting superpowers, or even waking up again. That was pretty sad. Clara wiped her right eye and cast her eyes downward, kicking at some grass growing between the concrete.
Jamie's eyes widened and she tensed up, hunching her shoulders in anticipation. What the hell was up with this kamikaze bullshit? Fucking amateur hour! This was NOT in the god damn training manuals! Missiles, bullets! Use them, people, please! She knew some of the people in these armies had some pissing contests but this was just a whole other level. Just throwing your plane at the other guy? It didn't even really work for Lancer. And her supervising officer had the nerve to tell her that SHE could get carried away sometimes!? In disbelief she watched as the planes began to near their collision.
Honestly. Who thinks of this shit? Apparently not Zarkev, he was just copying. Because it worked oh so well last time. Great, she can't wait to fight an army of pyschos who thinks throwing their planes at people is a good idea. Here come the Vlhakians! They don't even have guns or cannons anymore, just an army of jets strapped with dynamite. God forbid her squadmates keep this up. No way was she gonna let Lancer get away with this bullshit again. It set a very, very bad example. One thing Jamie knew for sure was that she was literally never going to kamikaze her plane into anybody. She'd use her guns and missiles like a regular, normal, not insane person, thanks.
Name: Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka, Yonaka Cakebread, Chloe, Bridgette, Yonaka, Cakebread, she's fine with any of these. Or come up with your own damn combination for all she cares.
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Stand: Puttin' on the Ritz, or Ritz for short
Appearance: Chloe is five feet, nine inches tall, with long, black hair that's always tied up into a ponytail that drifts down between her shoulder blades. She's got a wiry, muscular build, her frame is defined and confident. Her features are half white and asian, with a soft button nose and wide, almond like hazel eyes that are full of life. Starting at her left thigh and travelling up to above her waist is a tattoo of a cherry blossom tree. As for fashion, Chloe likes to keep things street. A white crop top that shows off her killer abs underneath a high quality, long-sleeved, black leather jacket that is full of pockets. She wears light blue skinny jeans that are stylishly tattered, and ride dangerously low on her hips. They are safely secured with a black leather belt. The jeans vanish into black leather boots that come up to just below her knees. She has a minimalist UNion Jack tattooed in between her shoulder blades aswell.
Skills: Chloe is excellent at playing the violin and piano, aswell as dancing of all kinds. She's also somewhat skilled at composing her own music and singing. Beyond that, she's an amateur artist and sometimes likes to whittle. First aid is something she has passing knowledge of aswell.
Equipment: Chloe prefers a classic british submachine gun, the Sten gun. Three extra magazines are tucked into her jacket. Placed firmly in the back of the waistband of her pants is a revolver. Extra cartidges are stored in the front right breast pocket of her jacket, and in her front left breast pocket is a packet of cigarettes.
History: Chloe was born to a stubborn english mother and a kindly japanese father. Together they made quite the duo. Both of them served in the first world war, Bridgette Cakebread as a nurse for the British, and Kiyoshi Yonaka as a infantry man for the Japanese army. After the Great War Kiyoshi moved to London and met his future wife playing the piano at a pub. Only drunk could Kiyoshi summon the courage to talk to the pretty girl. He would go onto regret this decision, and then even later on regret his regret. They played music together in a band. They vowed to one day scrap together enough money to travel the world. This dream took longer than they expected, and eventually they settled down and had a kid, later than most people. That kid was Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka.
Both Bridgette and Kiyoshi wanted their kid to be talented. They pushed her to excel in her studies, they pushed her to learn an instrument, or two for good measure. They wanted their child to do better than they had. Chloe loved her parents but eventually she began to push back. Hanging out with meaner crowds, rebelling more often, travelling out of the house. She picked up smoking at a younge age, a habit she still hasn't kicked. Worried and baffled by their childs behavior, Kiyoshi and Bridgette tried to fix their relationship. However it only became more strained as Chloe felt restricted around them. They couldn't understand what she was going through. There were many, many complicated, valid, and stupid reasons for Chloe to push her parents away. One of many was the development of her stand, a power she could not comprehend. This period of her life is the one Chloe regrets the most. Chloe was 20 when her mother, the older of the two parents, developed early onset Alzheimers. Bridgette found it hard to remember things, and became forgetful. Her memory only worsened as the years went on. Chloe began to try and turn her life around. To make her parents proud, for once, and stop being such a fuckup. This was when she learned of the philanthropic Speedwagon Foundation and began to help out with their charity events.
World War Two began, and immediately Chloe wanted to help fight. She had been raised by her parents with a fundamentally solid moral compass and a sense of patriotism instilled by her mother who helped fight in the war. It was her chance to do something good, really good. Kiyoshi was distraught that his daughter would leave to go and fight, but he also understood Chloe's desire to make herself a better person. Kiyoshi understood what it was to be a young person trying to make the most of themselves.
So, leaving ailing mother and father behind, Chloe signed up to be a nurse, the closest thing she could get to the front lines. On one particularly lonely night, she was using her Stand to play music to herself since only she could hear it. Her sergeant, a Stand User and member of the Speedwagon Foundation, angrily came to confront her about playing music in the middle of the night when he saw what she was doing. It wasn't long afterward that she was a loyal Speedwagon Foundation agent, and it was clear to Chloe that this was destiny. It was her fate to fight for justice alongside others like herself, not as a nurse or a traditional soldier. Still, she went through basic combat training, and later, the advanced combat training required of a Speedwagon field agent. Now she is loyal and eager to fight the good fight, travel to France and liberate the people there.
Other: Josuke Higashikata. Yonaka is the name of a cool rock band I like.
Stand Name:「PUTTIN' ON THE RITZ」
Stand Parameters: Destructive Power: A Speed: B Range: D Persistence: A Precision: B Developmental Potential: E
Stand Description: Ritz is slick, sleek, and slender. It is all wood, brass, and porcelain. Mahogany and oak panels make up a majority of it's being, with brass rings, nails and studs keeping it together. Every once and a while there is a flash of Ritz's skin, which is white and as flawless as porcelain. The largest shows of skin are Ritz mouth and nose, with it's vibrant crimson lips, and it's midiff which is flat and unlined with the exception of it's navel. It's elbows and knees have wooden panels that extend outward six inches into the open air, triangular wooden halfpipes that deflect the wind. It's eyes are moslty covered but underneath it's wooden visor one will occasionally catch a glimpse of them. They are humanesque. They directly mingle with the porcelain face revealing that the porcelain skin is in fact Ritz' real skin. They have white iris' and green, pupiless eyes. Ritz wears a unique wooden helmet. It rises up above her head like a ramp that deflect the air away. Out of this hole, a brown ponytail lazily drifts. A hole at the base of the helmet emanates a constant cool breeze.
Mounted on each shoulder is a small brass gramophone horn, pointed forward. They are connected to a flat wooden box on Ritz back. This box is the base of a record player, with needle included. One the side of this box are four slits with a vinyl disc poking its edge out in each. There is one vinyl record on the player itself, ready to be played. This recorder box is built directly into Ritz' body.
Ritz wears wooden gauntlets that are studded with brass at the knuckes. Her arms are also slightly longer than they should be proportionally. It wears segmented wooden trousers ride up a few inches beneath Ritz belly button. They are connected with wiry suspenders to a slick wooden crop top that goes around the gramophones base to make room. Ritz is shiny, all of it's wood and brass are polished and reflective.
As Ritz moves, the sound of wood on wood, brass on brass can be heard from within her. Aswell as the sound of a vinyl record currently playing no sound, the warm static of analogue music, can be heard whenever she appears or disappears. This warm static sharpens and rises into a cracking crescendo whenever Ritz moves quickly. Ritz has no obvious personality of it's own. When left to it's own devices it mimicks a habit of it's user and quietly hums to herself. Whenever it speaks, it sounds as if it's being played on a record. Crackling, spotty, analogue and homely. Other than this voice filter, it's voice is that of Chloe's. When it does talk, it's porcelain mouth does open and there is a tongue and teeth inside, though they are also made of some kind of ceramic material.
Power Description: Ritz has the power to record and play back noises with the five vinyl records it has available to it. Her power is that whenever she plays back the records, the physical effect of the sound being played takes place in the real world in the exact same way.
For example, if Ritz used a blank record to record the sound of a grenade going off twenty feet infront of her, she can play that record back to create an idential grenade explosion twenty feet infront of wherever Ritz is standing. The front orientation of each vinyl record is marked with a red line. She can play this explosion on a loop, stopping and resetting the record without having to her her hands to do so. In order to switch out records, Ritz has to use her arms to reach around, grab, and switch out the record. Playing on the gramophone is not the only way to activate the effects of Ritz, however. The sound effect also plays when a record is broken. The sound escapes from within the record and plays it's full course. The vinyl discs are floaty and light and can be throwing like frisbee discs. Upon shattering the entire record will play once, and then the sound is lost forever. Each vinyl record has two sides. Each one can have a different effect stored. If the record is broken, both sides of the record will play at once.
Ritz recording range does have a limit. Louder sounds are more easily recorded from farther away. Still, the needle recording implement of the record is far more perceptive than actual gramophones.
When a sound is quiet or too far away, the static inherent in a vinyl recording will appear. If Ritz records the sound of a grenade exploding 1000 feet away, the explosion itself will be spotty. Like someone cut holes in the actual explosion itself. The colors will be faded aswell. This means that people caught in this explosion will be far more likely to survive or even potentially escape unscathed.
Ritz has a limited amount of sounds available to her. Five records, ten sounds of up to 22 minutes long. However, she has an infinite amount of blank vinly records avaiable to her. These are drawn forth from a slit in either one of her forearms. These blank records have a utlity of their own. When thrown, they break, and hurt people. It's like throwing a sharp disc at someone, it kind of hurts. They also have a special effect, however, in that when directly shattering on a person that person will hear loud static in their ears for twenty two minutes. If Ritz attempts to record a new song while she already has ten stored, it will simply not work. She needs to either break a record and place a blank one under the needle or record over an old one.
This same effect is also applied on Ritz fists. A direct hit will make the person hear crackling vinyl static for 22 minutes. The sound grows in loudness and intensity the more times they are struck by Ritz, but the effect will always last no longer than 22 minutes.
Disc 1, Side A: The sound of Ritz punching for two minutes straight.
Disc 1, Side B: The sound of Ritz punching for three minutes straight.
Disc 2, Side A: Machinegun fire from Chloe's sten gun. The bullets are created two feet directly infront of Ritz and travel horizontally. Thirty rounds, a brief two second pause, and thirty additional rounds are fired.
Disc 2, Side B: Machinegun fire in a circle. Two fully automatic weapon thirty round bursts spin around Ritz in a circle, then stop.
Disc 3, Side A: The sound of a grenade going off thirty feet infront of Ritz.
Disc 3, Side B: A smoke screen bursts forth from Ritz's feet. Several grenades go off throughout the recording and the entire twenty two minutes are used up by creating smoke. A cough can be heard every once in a while.
Disc 4, Side A: A heavy reinforced steel metal plate is slammed down infront of Ritz, and stays there for five minutes. Transferred to throwable disc, then broken. Currently unused disc.
Disc 4, Side B: A Churchill tank appears infront of Ritz and immediately fires off a round. It drives forward, firing shells infront of it aswell as surpressing machinegun fire. It travels for 100 yards before fading into static. The entire drive forward lasts about a minute.
Disc 5, Side A: Twenty two minutes of hit singles, both formal and swing.
Disc 5, Side B: A very scratchy recording of someone playing the violin.
Other: Puttin' on the Ritz is a reference to a song written in the 1930's and it's remix by Taco in the 80's. It is a song of exhorbitant wealth, greed, and enjoying the present moment.
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