- Pronouns
- He/Him
We're spoiled like that.
Project Prometheus (Original Setting Superhero Quest)
Hell yeh Mona showing why Picking her and succeeding in giving her Powers good enough to give her 8 Rep was the best move. Along with recruiting mads.
Also I forgot to write it before, But Leizi perk of more info means were able to choose our candidates way better. Like without leizi I'd be wary of turning Rhys Meta and wouldnt know what a bomb John is with the Demon Flamez so I'm willing to take risk in bringing people in as long Leizi is able to properly vet them. Which our actions and crits in meeting Wulong seems to have let us.
Also I forgot to write it before, But Leizi perk of more info means were able to choose our candidates way better. Like without leizi I'd be wary of turning Rhys Meta and wouldnt know what a bomb John is with the Demon Flamez so I'm willing to take risk in bringing people in as long Leizi is able to properly vet them. Which our actions and crits in meeting Wulong seems to have let us.
- Location
- California
You can get autobio too if you add Soldier X
Edit: come to think of it, Solider X and Daggermaw brings us 60% of the way there [Fitness×1, Regeneration×1, Transformation×1]
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Yeah, you guys picked the high-infospec character, so you guys get to know everything beforehand. Well, almost everything . . .
That's also potency 13 which is the cap---would be pretty rad though . . .
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Yeah, that's our plus of playing Leizi. If we were Nora, we'd have a headstart on Ibis' Prometheus boosting research and more headway on metaplot Leviathan/stage stuff. Uiura, our finances would be less in jeopardy and we'd be running Project Prometheus probably openly because people trust and love us, and our alliance-building wouldn't be as shaky. And Towarri would just make fights way way easier.
Ah yes plan Cat Vampire ;v let me add that to my notes
Yeh the 2 are amazing additions if we want a Powerful synergy while still being able to gacha for more synergy.
Honestly with wulong help I want to figure out a Synergy that invulves invulnerability.
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
Towarri would also have a lead on a metaplot you haven't started much on.
Also, Automne would be in a coma, not dead.
that explains hiver joining immediately
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- He/Him
Was it her siblings with the tattoos that she mentioned in her video, from her child soldier days? That we haven't gotten a full lead on because Leizi needs to do intel work on it, like with Harper's sister?
ReaperofInterest
Herald of Disaster
Hmm...is that just a mechanical limitation or something? I'm curious about how Apiary managed to get a Potency 14 power, when there hasn't been any hint of her being any sort of experiment. Or was she really just a case of someone "winning" the power lottery out of sheer dumb luck?
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- He/Him
Bitterman has said that the cap can be raised through research. I would assume that something Ibis can do with Nora's lab now, via Global action.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The cap can't be raised. But you can find ways to use Apriay's DNA through research.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
...wait, hmm.
In that case, might a future research project entail the ability to break a DNA sample down into constituent powers/tags, so we could make something literally piece by piece, instead of having to put everything in from one sample, even if we don't need or want it?
In that case, might a future research project entail the ability to break a DNA sample down into constituent powers/tags, so we could make something literally piece by piece, instead of having to put everything in from one sample, even if we don't need or want it?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Nah, that would break the system. This is Apiary specific. She's the only 14 potency in the story (as of now). Even King is only 13.
Until Death - Suleverf
While waiting in between updates I wrote up an omake backstory for one of my candidates. As it's for the edgelord Samuel, it's darker in tone compared to the main story (even Maddie's intro) or comparable omakes.
Please observe the following trigger warnings before reading:
Please observe the following trigger warnings before reading:
Descriptions of gore, violence, suicide. Explicit violence against children
All are equal in the face of death.
As a turn of phrase it's patently absurd. In a world of metahumans powerful enough to level cities and survive nuclear bombs, how could it be anything other than the world picking favorites? The chosen few, destined to either lord over or shepherd the rest of us.
And yet, many of them were but feathers under the wings of corporations, squabbling with each other over money and politics in an endless cycle. The faces may change, but the game remains the same. Not so different from the underworld you were familiar with, but fought with cleaner hands the majority of the time.
All are equal in the face of death.
The mantra was useful to cling to when fighting a losing duel. When you were sticking shards of metal in some hapless person's heart. When your own life was draining out onto the floor before your eyes. When you first adopted the moniker Samuel.
And now that phrase continues to echo through your mind as your eyes scan over this latest report. The glowing words on the dimly-lit screen come across as fiction, written by an immature teenager imagining a doomed world in lieu of their own sheltered life. You readily believe and disbelieve them in equal measure. Leviathan stirring from its eternal rest. The majority of the world's heroes dying or going missing. Wonderland collapsing. How many among Justice Unlimited's best could have imagined that they would be puddles of goldnine by the end of the month?
As you flip through multiple displays to corroborate the facts across various sources, you try to avoid thinking too deeply about the implications for your employers. They shall either survive or be consumed in the ensuing chaos. It would be better to not have to change jobs, as it's rare to find organizations in this city that have need of your skills and aren't so two-faced. Though the reason for that is obvious and understandable. Regardless, you will complete your task. Your fingers at the keyboard clack onwards, preparing a compilation that may or may not fall upon closed eyes.
One thing is for certain. It is the end of an era, and the start of a new cycle.
It all began with a simple agreement. A childish contract proposed by a grownup, and then a handshake. Little did the naive boy know, he had shaken hands with the devil. From that day forth his soul fell down to hell.
"Excellent work kid. Sometimes it ain't the strongest who wins," said a suave voice from the edge of the darkness. The person it belonged to stepped out into the light surrounding a ramshackle arena, revealing a wiry man dressed in an immaculate suit. His head was comfortably covered up beneath a fat pork pie hat, tinted sunglasses, and a crimson bandana. He raised his velvet gloves to give a slow clap.
The blood-soaked boy, standing some distance opposite to him among a pile of fresh corpses, did nothing but suck in air with gasping breaths. The clapping stopped, and an expectant silence followed.
"Well c'mon then, what are you waiting for? A cookie?" asked the man.
It was then that something metallic clattered to the floor, and the child cocked his head behind himself to see what it was.
There was a small girl in dirty clothes staring at the boy, wide-eyed. Her right palm was open, and down on the floor below it a pristine dagger came to a rest. He had only seen her at the very start of the game and never again until now. Did she hide the whole time? Maybe she thought that the boy would lay down his knife too, and that together they could stand in defiance of this sadistic game. Or maybe she was about to take her own desperate swing at survival but couldn't muster the will to follow through with it.
"Why?" whispered the boy.
"This game is so stupid. I don't wanna play anymore," said the girl.
His mind flicked back to the start of the game. One of the very first contestants to die flashed in his memory. Everyone had to watch as that poor kid stabbed himself over and over again, compelled by oath. All for the simple act of refusing to step onto the stage.
A solitary bell chimed from up above. "Alright lovebirds, I know you're having a touching farewell but do wrap it up. I have some spare time but we still need to keep to a schedule, so decide who's living and who's dying or you'll both make like Romeo and Juliet."
The boy couldn't comprehend. "Don't you want to live?"
She nodded but her lips curled into a sad smile. "No one will let me."
His mouth opened but he held his tongue. It was a monstrous idea, but it was true. The boy had fought and fought, expending nearly every last ounce of his strength just to last for a few more precious seconds moment by moment. The life he so greedily won from others, to be given away to someone who just stood still and waited for the right moment?
But that was precisely what had happened. His life had been in her hands, and she let go of it. She wouldn't let herself live by staining her own hands. Who knew if the mastermind behind all of this would even let the last survivor go? Still she stood there stubbornly, refusing to try to either live or die. It was maddening. Someone had to make a choice, or they would all be choosing death!
"Why," he could only repeat pathetically.
The girl did not answer him. Could not answer him. So he made the choice that he always made.
After what seemed like an eternity, his leaded feet marched over mechanically. They kicked away the girl's dagger. She did nothing but look away in an attempt to steel herself, like a kid waiting for a jab in the arm at the doctor's office.
He didn't dare meet her gaze. Instead he tightened the grip on his own knife, before winding it up and plunging it directly into her heart. His hand retracted the blade soon after, causing her to stagger backwards as she clutched at her chest. With a dying gasp, she slumped to the ground.
But he swore that he could hear her rasp out some final words.
"Make that man pay…"
The nameless girl stopped moving.
And for a short while, so did the boy.
Another bell rang out.
Out of nowhere a hand grabbed the boy's shoulder, startling him.
"And that's a wrap. First heartbreak is the worst, but you'll get over it." The man bored into him with those pitch black shades of his. They had come to resemble empty sockets more than anything else. "Damn shame that you still don't have powers. We only ended up having a couple kids with them this time and they somehow died to a whelp like you."
This close to the man, the boy contemplated cutting his throat out right then and there. The man had never demonstrated any other powers besides the infernal oath binding them together. If there was just enough delay in the contract's punishment clause, he could drag this devil back to hell along with him.
"Hah, I know that look. You won't get even halfway through your swing if you break your oath now. I'll make you slit your own throat faster than you can cry mommy."
So this was it then. From the beginning the girl saw things more clearly than he did. There was no way this guy would let anyone go after he had his fun.
The man's hand shoved off the boy, who regained his footing a few steps back. "However, to cut loose the star actor of tonight's show like that would leave a bad taste in my mouth. So I'm going to give you a severance package. A contract renegotiation if you will." He reached out to offer another handshake.
The boy's eyes darted back and forth between the twin voids the man had for eyes and the outstretched hand. He blurted, "What's your name, mister?"
"My name?" the man scoffed.
"I can't trust you anymore if I don't know your name."
He gave a menacing chuckle. "You sure are a hoot, kid. The name's Until Death. Promise me that you'll never try to lay hands on me or mess with my business after this now and forever and I'll let you go."
"I promise." The words were sandpaper leaving his mouth. His hand let go of the dripping dagger it was so desperately clinging onto and clasped the man's hand. At the very least, by doing this he could dirty those clean expensive gloves with blood spatters.
"Very good. Now if I were you, I'd skip town. Some random kid going on a psycho massacre doesn't draw much sympathy in these parts as I hear. Especially one murdering an innocent little girl."
With that, the masked man strode off back into the darkness. The harsh spotlights overhead the arena soon followed, leaving the child with nothing but a bitter vow of vengeance.
As a turn of phrase it's patently absurd. In a world of metahumans powerful enough to level cities and survive nuclear bombs, how could it be anything other than the world picking favorites? The chosen few, destined to either lord over or shepherd the rest of us.
And yet, many of them were but feathers under the wings of corporations, squabbling with each other over money and politics in an endless cycle. The faces may change, but the game remains the same. Not so different from the underworld you were familiar with, but fought with cleaner hands the majority of the time.
All are equal in the face of death.
The mantra was useful to cling to when fighting a losing duel. When you were sticking shards of metal in some hapless person's heart. When your own life was draining out onto the floor before your eyes. When you first adopted the moniker Samuel.
And now that phrase continues to echo through your mind as your eyes scan over this latest report. The glowing words on the dimly-lit screen come across as fiction, written by an immature teenager imagining a doomed world in lieu of their own sheltered life. You readily believe and disbelieve them in equal measure. Leviathan stirring from its eternal rest. The majority of the world's heroes dying or going missing. Wonderland collapsing. How many among Justice Unlimited's best could have imagined that they would be puddles of goldnine by the end of the month?
As you flip through multiple displays to corroborate the facts across various sources, you try to avoid thinking too deeply about the implications for your employers. They shall either survive or be consumed in the ensuing chaos. It would be better to not have to change jobs, as it's rare to find organizations in this city that have need of your skills and aren't so two-faced. Though the reason for that is obvious and understandable. Regardless, you will complete your task. Your fingers at the keyboard clack onwards, preparing a compilation that may or may not fall upon closed eyes.
One thing is for certain. It is the end of an era, and the start of a new cycle.
It all began with a simple agreement. A childish contract proposed by a grownup, and then a handshake. Little did the naive boy know, he had shaken hands with the devil. From that day forth his soul fell down to hell.
"Excellent work kid. Sometimes it ain't the strongest who wins," said a suave voice from the edge of the darkness. The person it belonged to stepped out into the light surrounding a ramshackle arena, revealing a wiry man dressed in an immaculate suit. His head was comfortably covered up beneath a fat pork pie hat, tinted sunglasses, and a crimson bandana. He raised his velvet gloves to give a slow clap.
The blood-soaked boy, standing some distance opposite to him among a pile of fresh corpses, did nothing but suck in air with gasping breaths. The clapping stopped, and an expectant silence followed.
"Well c'mon then, what are you waiting for? A cookie?" asked the man.
It was then that something metallic clattered to the floor, and the child cocked his head behind himself to see what it was.
There was a small girl in dirty clothes staring at the boy, wide-eyed. Her right palm was open, and down on the floor below it a pristine dagger came to a rest. He had only seen her at the very start of the game and never again until now. Did she hide the whole time? Maybe she thought that the boy would lay down his knife too, and that together they could stand in defiance of this sadistic game. Or maybe she was about to take her own desperate swing at survival but couldn't muster the will to follow through with it.
"Why?" whispered the boy.
"This game is so stupid. I don't wanna play anymore," said the girl.
His mind flicked back to the start of the game. One of the very first contestants to die flashed in his memory. Everyone had to watch as that poor kid stabbed himself over and over again, compelled by oath. All for the simple act of refusing to step onto the stage.
A solitary bell chimed from up above. "Alright lovebirds, I know you're having a touching farewell but do wrap it up. I have some spare time but we still need to keep to a schedule, so decide who's living and who's dying or you'll both make like Romeo and Juliet."
The boy couldn't comprehend. "Don't you want to live?"
She nodded but her lips curled into a sad smile. "No one will let me."
His mouth opened but he held his tongue. It was a monstrous idea, but it was true. The boy had fought and fought, expending nearly every last ounce of his strength just to last for a few more precious seconds moment by moment. The life he so greedily won from others, to be given away to someone who just stood still and waited for the right moment?
But that was precisely what had happened. His life had been in her hands, and she let go of it. She wouldn't let herself live by staining her own hands. Who knew if the mastermind behind all of this would even let the last survivor go? Still she stood there stubbornly, refusing to try to either live or die. It was maddening. Someone had to make a choice, or they would all be choosing death!
"Why," he could only repeat pathetically.
The girl did not answer him. Could not answer him. So he made the choice that he always made.
After what seemed like an eternity, his leaded feet marched over mechanically. They kicked away the girl's dagger. She did nothing but look away in an attempt to steel herself, like a kid waiting for a jab in the arm at the doctor's office.
He didn't dare meet her gaze. Instead he tightened the grip on his own knife, before winding it up and plunging it directly into her heart. His hand retracted the blade soon after, causing her to stagger backwards as she clutched at her chest. With a dying gasp, she slumped to the ground.
But he swore that he could hear her rasp out some final words.
"Make that man pay…"
The nameless girl stopped moving.
And for a short while, so did the boy.
Another bell rang out.
Out of nowhere a hand grabbed the boy's shoulder, startling him.
"And that's a wrap. First heartbreak is the worst, but you'll get over it." The man bored into him with those pitch black shades of his. They had come to resemble empty sockets more than anything else. "Damn shame that you still don't have powers. We only ended up having a couple kids with them this time and they somehow died to a whelp like you."
This close to the man, the boy contemplated cutting his throat out right then and there. The man had never demonstrated any other powers besides the infernal oath binding them together. If there was just enough delay in the contract's punishment clause, he could drag this devil back to hell along with him.
"Hah, I know that look. You won't get even halfway through your swing if you break your oath now. I'll make you slit your own throat faster than you can cry mommy."
So this was it then. From the beginning the girl saw things more clearly than he did. There was no way this guy would let anyone go after he had his fun.
The man's hand shoved off the boy, who regained his footing a few steps back. "However, to cut loose the star actor of tonight's show like that would leave a bad taste in my mouth. So I'm going to give you a severance package. A contract renegotiation if you will." He reached out to offer another handshake.
The boy's eyes darted back and forth between the twin voids the man had for eyes and the outstretched hand. He blurted, "What's your name, mister?"
"My name?" the man scoffed.
"I can't trust you anymore if I don't know your name."
He gave a menacing chuckle. "You sure are a hoot, kid. The name's Until Death. Promise me that you'll never try to lay hands on me or mess with my business after this now and forever and I'll let you go."
"I promise." The words were sandpaper leaving his mouth. His hand let go of the dripping dagger it was so desperately clinging onto and clasped the man's hand. At the very least, by doing this he could dirty those clean expensive gloves with blood spatters.
"Very good. Now if I were you, I'd skip town. Some random kid going on a psycho massacre doesn't draw much sympathy in these parts as I hear. Especially one murdering an innocent little girl."
With that, the masked man strode off back into the darkness. The harsh spotlights overhead the arena soon followed, leaving the child with nothing but a bitter vow of vengeance.
This is the result of having just watched Battle Royale. It's pretty gratuitous, I imagine it will be changed if Samuel comes up as a candidate. As he is, it's pretty hard to justify JU approving his candidacy. There may be a continuation later on if I care to write it. I am starting to realize that my 2 candidates somewhat reflect more extreme versions of existing characters in the story, not sure if that's a good or bad thing yet.
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- He/Him
Is the psychic sensitivity auto-weakness for E-B "in place of" the usual weakness roll, or can we get a second side effect?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's in place of the usual side effect roll.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
SolarGemX
The Crystalized Sun
- Location
- Somewhere in the Cosmos
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The fabled Lady Leizi art has Emerged, just as the prophecies fortold! Also, nice.
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
Ah, so that's why we rolled an entire set above 10. Lady Leizi's art was finally finished, and it pleased the RNGods.
BKNK knocks it out the park once again! Her expressions really complete the outfit.
...She looks like she should be in Street Fighter as Chun-Li's cousin. This is a compliment, btw.
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With those outfits I wonder why she has such a low Reputation in-universe, since that sort of appearance seems really good for raising it up to moderate+ levels?
LucidProp
Pocky Eating MafiaDoka
Horizon just isn't ready for Lady Leizi's fashion and style. Plebians, the lot of them.
More seriously, it's because of her past in organized crime. Everyone loves the Mafia for their suits, but no one actually wants to have the mafia in their neighborhood.
The other part was her role on the team. As a hatchet woman she likely didn't practice being personable or giving rousing speeches much as opposed to threatening organizations or using leverage against them. I would wager she definitely does have loyal parasocial fans on the net though