So Saber of Black is Achilles?
Oath Sign: What Dreams May Come
- Thread starter Wade Garrett
- Start date
- OOC
Mortifer
Embrace your inner lunatic. Fun times guaranteed.
- Location
- Under a rock.
An acceptable substitute wingman
It won't work. He's too Tsundere for Touko.
OTP.
Technically, he's yandere for Touko. According to Takeuchi, anyway.
Mortifer
Embrace your inner lunatic. Fun times guaranteed.
- Location
- Under a rock.
Dalek Ix
Verified Dalek
[IN WHICH DALEK WRITES A BLOODY THING]
Numbuh Five's screams were abruptly muffled by the hatch of the escape pod slamming shut, and then, just as abruptly, silenced altogether by the little craft being fired out into space, accelerating on a direct course towards the refugee fleet.
Numbuh 362 maintained her salute until long after the pod was a speck in the distance. Haltingly, she lowered her arm. While some parts of the last half-hour hadn't gone exactly to plan, she was pleased with the results. The Code Module was safe, the Archives transferred, the Book of KND was resting safely somewhere in the Sector V treehouse, both S.T.A.R.S.C.R.A.P.U.H. Heavy Cruisers were away, the Moonbase had been fully evacuated, and a whopping 85% of her tree-houses had successfully executed Operation D.O.O.M.S.D.A.Y. and lifted off, each taking a good chunk of the surrounding area along with them in a transparent shield.
And, the once-Supreme Leader reasoned, I suppose that "Tag, you're It" aren't all that bad, as far as last words go.
"...Heh."
She chuckled. Then laughed. And then her hysterical laughter morphed into frightened, terrified sobbing.
362's hands tried to steady herself on the console, but her grip failed her and she collapsed onto her knees. Gone was the façade of stoicism, determination, confidence and bravery that had carried the KND through her last hours leading it. Gone was the dignity and poise and strength that her status as Supreme Leader required of her. Gone were the months of training at Arctic base and Spy School, and gone were the years of hard-won field experience.
For the first time in what felt like a long, long while, gone was everything that had made her Numbuh 362. And now, all that was left was... Rachel. An eleven year old girl who adored ponies, liked gymnastics and history, and was now faced with the fact that she would die today.
Rachel choked, arms wrapped around her chest, feeling small and helpless and alone against the terror that held her in its grasp. She curled up, her forehead touching the prickly AstroTurf of her... of what had been her bridge, and wailed.
The deck shook, and alarms blared behind her.
The aliens, some small part of her realized.
Get up.
Rachel wriggled feebly, and slumped back down, wailing louder.
Get up.
Rachel unclasped her hands from around her chest, and braced them against the fake grass, pushing.
Get up!
Slowly, weakly, tears still running down her face and choked sobs sometimes bursting from her throat, Rachel stood, steadying herself on the console.
Swallowing, she dragged a sleeve over her face, soaking up tears, sweat and snot. She forced herself to ignore the big, yawning pit of despair in her chest, and to instead focus on what she had to do next. She slung the bag carrying her Supreme-Level access-enabled L.U.N.C.H.B.O.K.S. and the spare M.U.S.K.E.T. onto her shoulder. She picked up her S.C.A.M.P.P., and held it in a shaky grip so tight her hands hurt.
Breathe. Remember your training.
Rachel took shaking, hiccupping breaths of cold air and relaxed her grip on her weapon. She raised her arm, and dragged the sleeve over her eyes again, soaking up the last of the tears.
"I..." she said, choking on the words, "I c-can do this." She took a step. "I can do this." Then another. "I can do this." And then settled into an easy trot, each step feeling ponderous and monumental for her, and each punctuated by her muttered mantra.
"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I must. I have to..."
Too soon, the former Supreme Leader was standing before the bridge elevator, her hand hovering over the call button. With an effort of will, and a strangled cry, she slammed the button down.
*Ding~!*
To Rachel's dismay, the doors ground open immediately. Taking a moment to build up her courage, she stepped inside. Turning around, her hand moved towards the appropiate button, her eyes turned down, towards the ground...
No. Look.
She looked up.
When she'd ordered that Moonbase Zero be built, she'd personally intervened in the design process to suggest certain features. One of those had been to position the bridge just so, that the first thing anyone coming up the elevator would see would be the Earth. She'd thought it would be a pretty cool thing for the newbies to see.
So, when Rachel McKenzie looked up, she saw the Earth. And even from here on the moon, she could see the fires that engulfed her home in smoke and ash.
The young girl had to steady herself on the wall of the elevator car to keep herself from falling. She blinked tears away and felt that maddening chasm in her chest come back. But still, she didn't look away. She refused to look away. She stared at her burning world until the image was imprinted into her very soul.
Nigel Uno…
She remembered the transmission. Hearing the voice that had once belonged to the greatest operative to ever live announce their doom while the ships of the G:KND warped in.
And the empty pit of her chest seemed to become less empty.
… You will die for this! If not by me, then by someone else! I swear it!
The button was pressed, the door ground shut and the metal cab going down, taking Numbuh 362 to her fate.
Numbuh Five's screams were abruptly muffled by the hatch of the escape pod slamming shut, and then, just as abruptly, silenced altogether by the little craft being fired out into space, accelerating on a direct course towards the refugee fleet.
Numbuh 362 maintained her salute until long after the pod was a speck in the distance. Haltingly, she lowered her arm. While some parts of the last half-hour hadn't gone exactly to plan, she was pleased with the results. The Code Module was safe, the Archives transferred, the Book of KND was resting safely somewhere in the Sector V treehouse, both S.T.A.R.S.C.R.A.P.U.H. Heavy Cruisers were away, the Moonbase had been fully evacuated, and a whopping 85% of her tree-houses had successfully executed Operation D.O.O.M.S.D.A.Y. and lifted off, each taking a good chunk of the surrounding area along with them in a transparent shield.
And, the once-Supreme Leader reasoned, I suppose that "Tag, you're It" aren't all that bad, as far as last words go.
"...Heh."
She chuckled. Then laughed. And then her hysterical laughter morphed into frightened, terrified sobbing.
362's hands tried to steady herself on the console, but her grip failed her and she collapsed onto her knees. Gone was the façade of stoicism, determination, confidence and bravery that had carried the KND through her last hours leading it. Gone was the dignity and poise and strength that her status as Supreme Leader required of her. Gone were the months of training at Arctic base and Spy School, and gone were the years of hard-won field experience.
For the first time in what felt like a long, long while, gone was everything that had made her Numbuh 362. And now, all that was left was... Rachel. An eleven year old girl who adored ponies, liked gymnastics and history, and was now faced with the fact that she would die today.
Rachel choked, arms wrapped around her chest, feeling small and helpless and alone against the terror that held her in its grasp. She curled up, her forehead touching the prickly AstroTurf of her... of what had been her bridge, and wailed.
The deck shook, and alarms blared behind her.
The aliens, some small part of her realized.
Get up.
Rachel wriggled feebly, and slumped back down, wailing louder.
Get up.
Rachel unclasped her hands from around her chest, and braced them against the fake grass, pushing.
Get up!
Slowly, weakly, tears still running down her face and choked sobs sometimes bursting from her throat, Rachel stood, steadying herself on the console.
Swallowing, she dragged a sleeve over her face, soaking up tears, sweat and snot. She forced herself to ignore the big, yawning pit of despair in her chest, and to instead focus on what she had to do next. She slung the bag carrying her Supreme-Level access-enabled L.U.N.C.H.B.O.K.S. and the spare M.U.S.K.E.T. onto her shoulder. She picked up her S.C.A.M.P.P., and held it in a shaky grip so tight her hands hurt.
Breathe. Remember your training.
Rachel took shaking, hiccupping breaths of cold air and relaxed her grip on her weapon. She raised her arm, and dragged the sleeve over her eyes again, soaking up the last of the tears.
"I..." she said, choking on the words, "I c-can do this." She took a step. "I can do this." Then another. "I can do this." And then settled into an easy trot, each step feeling ponderous and monumental for her, and each punctuated by her muttered mantra.
"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I must. I have to..."
Too soon, the former Supreme Leader was standing before the bridge elevator, her hand hovering over the call button. With an effort of will, and a strangled cry, she slammed the button down.
*Ding~!*
To Rachel's dismay, the doors ground open immediately. Taking a moment to build up her courage, she stepped inside. Turning around, her hand moved towards the appropiate button, her eyes turned down, towards the ground...
No. Look.
She looked up.
When she'd ordered that Moonbase Zero be built, she'd personally intervened in the design process to suggest certain features. One of those had been to position the bridge just so, that the first thing anyone coming up the elevator would see would be the Earth. She'd thought it would be a pretty cool thing for the newbies to see.
So, when Rachel McKenzie looked up, she saw the Earth. And even from here on the moon, she could see the fires that engulfed her home in smoke and ash.
The young girl had to steady herself on the wall of the elevator car to keep herself from falling. She blinked tears away and felt that maddening chasm in her chest come back. But still, she didn't look away. She refused to look away. She stared at her burning world until the image was imprinted into her very soul.
Nigel Uno…
She remembered the transmission. Hearing the voice that had once belonged to the greatest operative to ever live announce their doom while the ships of the G:KND warped in.
And the empty pit of her chest seemed to become less empty.
… You will die for this! If not by me, then by someone else! I swear it!
The button was pressed, the door ground shut and the metal cab going down, taking Numbuh 362 to her fate.
Last edited:
I think I'll throw my hat into the waitlist, since personal issues kept me from joining the last RP I saw Wade running.
Character:
Iggy, the Dog King of New York
Universe of Origin: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Abilities:
Iggy is a Stand User, an individual who can make their spirit manifest into a "Stand" and directly act upon the world around them. Iggy's Stand, The Fool, named after the Major Arcana, can manipulate sand into complex shapes, changing colour, and even having it make vocalizations. Typically it will take the form seen above, but it is also capable of taking the form of himself and other people and have it speak to impersonate the individual, as seen when he had it take the form of DIO, create wings to allow it and Iggy to glide as seen during the fight with N'Doul, or become a small shelter as seen during his fight with Pet Shop. The Fool is remarkably strong considering it is made of sand and dust, being capable of simultaneously shattering the bones of the vampire Vanilla Ice and one of the stone walls of DIO's mansion with a charge. However, one of the limitations of Stands is that the further they move or extend their influence from their user, the weaker they become, eventually becoming useless after a certain point. Having a range of D rank, The Fool can only extend a dozen or so metres away from Iggy, and only five before noticeably losing strength.
Most Stands can only be seen and affected by other Stand Users, or in this case those who can see and directly handle souls, but as The Fool only manipulates sand instead of taking its own form, it can be seen and affected by anyone. However, compensating for this is that while when most Stands will receive the inuries received by their User and vice versa, The Fool can not, as it does not have a form to harm, and damaging sand constructs will not harm Iggy.
Even without his Stand, Iggy seems to be more than a normal Boston terrier. he is shown to be capable of jumping several feet vertically during his first bout with Polnareff, and survived repeated kicks from the superhuman Vanilla Ice, although he was gravely injured.
Personality:
Iggy is both highly arrogant and lazy, not willing to involve himself in things he does not believe concern him, and saw his human owner in New York as too stupid before leaving to be a stray, eventually becoming the alpha dog of New York's strays, easily evading dog catchers thanks to his Stand. If he feels something presents a threat, he is more likely to flee than face it head on, not willing to risk his life over minor things, although he will fight if he does not feel much is at stake and that he can easily win.
Character:
Iggy, the Dog King of New York
Universe of Origin: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Abilities:
Iggy is a Stand User, an individual who can make their spirit manifest into a "Stand" and directly act upon the world around them. Iggy's Stand, The Fool, named after the Major Arcana, can manipulate sand into complex shapes, changing colour, and even having it make vocalizations. Typically it will take the form seen above, but it is also capable of taking the form of himself and other people and have it speak to impersonate the individual, as seen when he had it take the form of DIO, create wings to allow it and Iggy to glide as seen during the fight with N'Doul, or become a small shelter as seen during his fight with Pet Shop. The Fool is remarkably strong considering it is made of sand and dust, being capable of simultaneously shattering the bones of the vampire Vanilla Ice and one of the stone walls of DIO's mansion with a charge. However, one of the limitations of Stands is that the further they move or extend their influence from their user, the weaker they become, eventually becoming useless after a certain point. Having a range of D rank, The Fool can only extend a dozen or so metres away from Iggy, and only five before noticeably losing strength.
Most Stands can only be seen and affected by other Stand Users, or in this case those who can see and directly handle souls, but as The Fool only manipulates sand instead of taking its own form, it can be seen and affected by anyone. However, compensating for this is that while when most Stands will receive the inuries received by their User and vice versa, The Fool can not, as it does not have a form to harm, and damaging sand constructs will not harm Iggy.
Even without his Stand, Iggy seems to be more than a normal Boston terrier. he is shown to be capable of jumping several feet vertically during his first bout with Polnareff, and survived repeated kicks from the superhuman Vanilla Ice, although he was gravely injured.
Personality:
Iggy is both highly arrogant and lazy, not willing to involve himself in things he does not believe concern him, and saw his human owner in New York as too stupid before leaving to be a stray, eventually becoming the alpha dog of New York's strays, easily evading dog catchers thanks to his Stand. If he feels something presents a threat, he is more likely to flee than face it head on, not willing to risk his life over minor things, although he will fight if he does not feel much is at stake and that he can easily win.
Legend of Ruina
Growing eyes on the inside
It occurs to me that Iggy didn't last long enough to learn of DIO's Stand. Humorous misunderstandings ahoy.
Wade Garrett
Just trying to do the right thing
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
Sorry folks. Had another RP I'm in take off like gangbusters while trying to binge watch Season 9 of Supernatural.
Cyreni
Smol Pone GM
Overextension: the bane of many a roleplayer/GM.
Afraid I don't follow.
Legend of Ruina
Growing eyes on the inside
I'm running around as Diego Brando, who frequently goes by Dio. I'm a Stand User named after the same Big Bad that Stardust Crusaders was all about finding and killing. Admittedly the lack of vampirism might work in my favor but it's not that hard of a lead to make, especially since Iggy never got to see DIO's Stand, therefore smoothing out one of the major possible inconsistencies in my favor.
Admittedly it will be odd that I don't have Za Warudo as my Stand name.
But Iggy knew what DIO looked like, as he was able to make a sand clone of him (probably learned from looking at Joseph's pictures). Aside from hair colour, Diego and DIO don't look that similar. Diego also lacks the scar around the neck that DIO has, and the birthmark, which would prove he's not the same DIO if Iggy assumed they were at first.
Dalek Ix
Verified Dalek
[IN WHICH DALEK CONTINUES TO HIJACK THE RP]
It took quite a long time for the elevator to reach the bottom of the shaft. When it did, Rachel inserted a small key in a hidden keyhole in the panel, and twisted it.
With a shudder, the car dropped down even further, past the bowels of Moonbase Zero and into the moon itself. The previous incarnation of the KND's global HQ had been made at a time when the kids were the only ones with any spaceships whatsoever. There simply hadn't been any need to arm Moonbase, and refits over the years had only seen fit to add minor defensive armaments. And they'd paid dearly for it.
When Moonbase had been rebuilt, Rachel had been determined that it would not fall as easily as the previous one had. The new treehouse was a fortress, a layer cake of defenses, fortifications, armor and sensors, and its guns had no problems tearing anything in high orbit apart; even the ships of the GKND were no match.
Which was why the sneaks had sabotaged the targeting computers. So even now the big guns of Moonbase Zero lay silent, their corrupted machine brains refusing to fire on the enemy. But that would change soon enough.
Numbuh 362 found herself staring at her reflection in one of the better-polished bits of the elevator car's wall. Her clothes were torn and speckled with blood, her hair a rat's nest, what she could see of her armor was scuffed and dented, and her eyes were haunted and ringed from exhaustion and lack of sleep, and seemed to be focusing on something far, far away.
The once Supreme Leader chuckled darkly. She looked like hell, to borrow from an old friend's vocabulary. As she waited for the journey downwards to end, her thoughts drifted towards her History lessons.
Well, not lessons per se. School only allowed the most boring and dry bits of History to be taught; an endless diatribe of names, dates, nations and facts to remember. However, a lucky accident had led to her buying the wrong book for First Grade, and so she'd discovered all the stuff that the schools didn't want to teach students; the stories. Legends. Tales of heroes; of great kings, of brave explorers, of cunning leaders, of dastardly villains. Of people, single or many, who rose above the others and did great things.
She'd, of course, been very disappointed when she had to buy her actual History book and find that they would be skipping all that. For her first lesson, she saw the heroism of a few hundred Spartans, Thespians and Thebans against impossible odds be reduced to a date, a place, and a few things to memorize. Which sucked.
Now, as her own fate came closer and closer, she wondered how they would remember her.
"I can see it already: In the year 2008, the Earth had to be evacuated due to aliens. During that time, Rachel T. McKenzie was succeeded by Abigail Lincoln after the former perished during the invasion", she said to herself, imitating the dry, bored tone of her History teacher, "Please write a ten page report on the differences between the two Supreme Leaders by next Tuesday. Cue groaning."
She laughed, in spite of herself. And then the horrible pit was back and she had to hug herself to keep from breaking down again.
"… Is this what they felt like?" she wondered, her voice soft. Of course she'd read about those heroes who had gone down valiantly, preferring death to surrender. Had they felt like she did? Had Joan of Arc felt it as the fires rose around her ankles? Had the rebels of Warsaw felt it as their city was razed to the ground?
…Probably not, she told herself. Those people had been true heroes; they'd done incredible, amazing things far beyond what was asked of them. They'd advanced when they could've retreated, struck back when they could've carried on. How could she hope to live up to that?
No, this… this was just her duty. Her duty to the kids she had led, and to the organization that just might be the last hope for humanity. Nothing more, nothing less.
And Numbuh 362 would do her duty. It was the least she could do.
The elevator slowed to a halt, and she straightened, repeating her mantra to tease out the tiny bit of courage she needed to keep going.
"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this…"
The doors ground open, and she hurried through into the underground chamber, but stopped when she realized that she wasn't alone in there.
Standing before a control panel next to a big, heavy door, and looking rather surprised by her presence, was Numbuh 74.239. Numbuh 74.239, who had been the one to throw her KND into anarchy with a scavenger hunt. Numbuh 74.239, who had taken Numbuh One away to the GKND.
Numbuh 362 saw red. She barely even noticed the handheld computer the traitor was trying to hide behind his back.
It took quite a long time for the elevator to reach the bottom of the shaft. When it did, Rachel inserted a small key in a hidden keyhole in the panel, and twisted it.
With a shudder, the car dropped down even further, past the bowels of Moonbase Zero and into the moon itself. The previous incarnation of the KND's global HQ had been made at a time when the kids were the only ones with any spaceships whatsoever. There simply hadn't been any need to arm Moonbase, and refits over the years had only seen fit to add minor defensive armaments. And they'd paid dearly for it.
When Moonbase had been rebuilt, Rachel had been determined that it would not fall as easily as the previous one had. The new treehouse was a fortress, a layer cake of defenses, fortifications, armor and sensors, and its guns had no problems tearing anything in high orbit apart; even the ships of the GKND were no match.
Which was why the sneaks had sabotaged the targeting computers. So even now the big guns of Moonbase Zero lay silent, their corrupted machine brains refusing to fire on the enemy. But that would change soon enough.
Numbuh 362 found herself staring at her reflection in one of the better-polished bits of the elevator car's wall. Her clothes were torn and speckled with blood, her hair a rat's nest, what she could see of her armor was scuffed and dented, and her eyes were haunted and ringed from exhaustion and lack of sleep, and seemed to be focusing on something far, far away.
The once Supreme Leader chuckled darkly. She looked like hell, to borrow from an old friend's vocabulary. As she waited for the journey downwards to end, her thoughts drifted towards her History lessons.
Well, not lessons per se. School only allowed the most boring and dry bits of History to be taught; an endless diatribe of names, dates, nations and facts to remember. However, a lucky accident had led to her buying the wrong book for First Grade, and so she'd discovered all the stuff that the schools didn't want to teach students; the stories. Legends. Tales of heroes; of great kings, of brave explorers, of cunning leaders, of dastardly villains. Of people, single or many, who rose above the others and did great things.
She'd, of course, been very disappointed when she had to buy her actual History book and find that they would be skipping all that. For her first lesson, she saw the heroism of a few hundred Spartans, Thespians and Thebans against impossible odds be reduced to a date, a place, and a few things to memorize. Which sucked.
Now, as her own fate came closer and closer, she wondered how they would remember her.
"I can see it already: In the year 2008, the Earth had to be evacuated due to aliens. During that time, Rachel T. McKenzie was succeeded by Abigail Lincoln after the former perished during the invasion", she said to herself, imitating the dry, bored tone of her History teacher, "Please write a ten page report on the differences between the two Supreme Leaders by next Tuesday. Cue groaning."
She laughed, in spite of herself. And then the horrible pit was back and she had to hug herself to keep from breaking down again.
"… Is this what they felt like?" she wondered, her voice soft. Of course she'd read about those heroes who had gone down valiantly, preferring death to surrender. Had they felt like she did? Had Joan of Arc felt it as the fires rose around her ankles? Had the rebels of Warsaw felt it as their city was razed to the ground?
…Probably not, she told herself. Those people had been true heroes; they'd done incredible, amazing things far beyond what was asked of them. They'd advanced when they could've retreated, struck back when they could've carried on. How could she hope to live up to that?
No, this… this was just her duty. Her duty to the kids she had led, and to the organization that just might be the last hope for humanity. Nothing more, nothing less.
And Numbuh 362 would do her duty. It was the least she could do.
The elevator slowed to a halt, and she straightened, repeating her mantra to tease out the tiny bit of courage she needed to keep going.
"I can do this. I can do this. I can do this…"
The doors ground open, and she hurried through into the underground chamber, but stopped when she realized that she wasn't alone in there.
Standing before a control panel next to a big, heavy door, and looking rather surprised by her presence, was Numbuh 74.239. Numbuh 74.239, who had been the one to throw her KND into anarchy with a scavenger hunt. Numbuh 74.239, who had taken Numbuh One away to the GKND.
Numbuh 362 saw red. She barely even noticed the handheld computer the traitor was trying to hide behind his back.
Wade Garrett
Just trying to do the right thing
- Pronouns
- He/His/Him
After
Anyone still interested in playing, sing out!
@Blackout
@Narcissist
@Joebobjoe
@Random Tale
@Cyreni
@notmi
notmi
Super Koala God Super Koala
Afterbeing browbeaten and guilt trippedpolite discussions with users @Xellos and @Dalek Ix , I have decided to commence the resurrection of this RP, with the aforementioned Mr. Ix as a Co-GM to keep me honest.
Anyone still interested in playing, sing out!
@Blackout
@Narcissist
@Joebobjoe
@Random Tale
@Cyreni
@notmi
Yeah, sure. I'm not doing anything with OOWs RP, so I have an open slot.
Sinsystems
Patron Librarian
*Relaxes and hopes a spot opens up*
Cyreni
Smol Pone GM
Sure @Wade Garrett, I'll give Garrett another go. Don't expect any IC replies from me until later though.
Legend of Ruina
Growing eyes on the inside
Dinosaurs and German Science shall reign supreme!