Tablón de rol en español — partidas, historias y sistemas.
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Caperucita Roja (libro 2)RoleroBicolor Epidote-12cc57No.1674es
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(The chapter says "Cece") Once upon a time... there was a little girl who wore a beautiful cape/head of hair of red color. Wherever she went, that color followed, so they nicknamed her Little Red Riding Hood RED. Little Red Riding HoodRed was a good and affectionate somewhat mischievous girl who lived without family in a beautiful (foster) home in the middle of the forest. One day, her mother [SHE DIDN'T LOVE HER ANYMORE?!] And so, her days passed... without a family.
(...)
(The chapter says "Little Red Riding Hood") Once upon a time... A world plunged into darkness by an indescribable evil.
A world where hope was extinguished.
Until from the darkness... A heroine appeared, and together with her three friends and the three stones of the goddesses, she completely banished evil... Thus saving the universe and all realities before disappearing forever.
...unlike the evil, which could be just around the corner.
(But luckily... We have a legendary girl on our side!)
Little Red Riding Hood, who was supposed to beware of the wolf, is now a viking. Very strong and all. Her axe an instrument of justice, although sometimes it seems more propitious for...
What matters is that she wants to save us! Now it's up to her to find the 3 companions who can help her. Or does she no longer need to search?
Whatever the case, the temple. Today, that is the place... that the human team must overcome. turnos enka minoh
>>1828 → >>1829 → >>1830 → >Cece Red eyes floating in the thick darkness. Cece holds their gaze, her small nose wrinkled in concentration. She wants to know if what she's seeing is real. Maybe Letizia really is a demon, or a vampire, or maybe demons are growing inside her, in her brain, like worms, mocking her and making her hallucinate.
(If I'm really crazy, one day I'll wake up and be like Amelie. I don't want that)
The alternative, that the monsters are real, isn't ideal either.
She moves through the mansion. Every corner seems to possess a different opacity. The portraits of her new father are a plague, like cockroaches were at the orphanage. The walk leads her to a kind of laboratory or something, the measuring tubes give it away.
(Re-Animator. 1985)
Except there's no mad scientist in sight, nor a severed head on the table. Beyond the reference that came to her mind, Cece can't name any of the beakers or instruments.
(Napoleon isn't here)
That thought spurs her on. She continues through the door.
The scene opens up. It's the outside again.
She hesitates to go out, the last time she was outside she peed herself, an experience that could embarrass anyone. She takes a deep breath through her nose and blows out through her mouth. She goes out and takes the stairs. But that path suddenly cuts off. She looks into the void with a grimace, almost as if the abyss owed her money. Dissatisfied, she shakes her head and steps back, being careful with her steps.
She goes down the complete stairs.
A garden, and pillars guarding locked doors. Cece sticks her pinky finger into the locks, but all she manages is to bruise her finger. She puts her pinky finger in her mouth and soothes it with licks. She turns, and her eyes fall on the well. She stares at it for a full minute.
(Ringu. 1998)
She moves forward.
She finds vases, and another door. The lack of a roof makes her look up with distrust, almost as if expecting an eagle to dive-bomb and snatch her away.
(I'm glad they adopted me. The others aren't as tough, they couldn't handle it)
The sight of the forest would make them run. She also wants to get away, but she can't. She's Roja, and she must find her bat everywhere.
>>1836 → >>1831 → >Cece The marble sirens give way to the art room, inside, among the pieces, the restless echoes of a piano stir. Cece invades the room with long, cautious steps, keeping her arms away from her body. She looks at the mannequin with distrust, judging it every few steps to make sure it isn't following her.
Cece's aquamarine gaze sweeps over the instruments and paintings.
"Alicia..." she murmurs upon seeing the blonde girl falling into the gloom. She extends her hands, her fingers tracing a descending line over the oil painting. "But not the Alicia I know."
And after the donkey, appears...
The wolf.
Cece's breath catches. She steps back, only stopping when she realizes it's just a painting. Even so, the sight made her sweat. She takes a deep breath, forces herself to walk until her face is half a meter from the animal. She lifts her right foot and plants the wet sole as high as she can (almost above her head), imprinting the mark of her sneaker.
She lowers her leg and takes a couple of steps back. She shakes her head and continues exploring the gallery. She stops again upon glimpsing the man at the piano. An adult, apparently drowned in his music.
Cece, in complete silence, skirts around him to keep going, and it's then that the room reveals the display case with Napoleon trapped inside. Cece almost lets out a gasp, but she holds it in her hands and checks if the pianist noticed.
Still on tiptoe, she speeds up until she can touch the display case, shaking it, looking for a way to open it and thus be able to get the bat. If she couldn't find it, Cece would do something drastic. She would look for one of those fragile vases that seem to plague the mansion, or something to throw to break the glass.
Her breathing quickens during the search. Having Napoleon so close yet so far is maddening.
>>1833 → >The initial interaction is quite cute with how she worries about you, how she invites you to dance... And she's very pretty! She looks like a Gerudo, or do all Gerudo look like Din?
>Zelda from TP It's just that in that game Midna is the star. A question capable of leading two kingdoms to war: Which do you prefer? Imp Midna or True form Midna? I have my answer clear, I'll leave it in spoiler: Imp Midna all the way, kek. Nintendo created a genre with her.
Your impressions are making me want to play it again. But I can't, the backlog! the backlog!
>Maple disappointed me It's recommended to bump into her. Not only do your rupees scatter, but hers do too, so you can steal from her, kek. The little monkey only appeared in the Oracles as far as I know, and those games are simple and charming in terms of narrative, the characters themselves don't do much and the impression they leave is what matters. Surely many children liked her attitude, they grew up, started drawing her, and that's how her fame was consolidated.
You'll have to wait for them to remake the Oracles to, perhaps, get a bit more interaction with her.
>I know they're supposed to have two bright eyes, but it looks like they have a single giant eye like Sauron, kek. Now you won't be able to unsee it! Noooooo, you ruined one of my favorite races, I hate you!
Kuek.
As a counter, I'll let you know that Saria probably turned into one of those ugly, dwarf Koroks that players bully in the new Zeldas. Speaking of which, in the movie it looks like the Kokiri will return. I hope they reappear in the games too, the Koroks are starting to get boring.
Do you know which Zeldas I have pending? The DS ones. I feel like downloading an emulator and giving them a try.
1d20 = 15 "Long before the kingdoms whose names now fill the maps existed, before men raised walls or sages learned to measure the passage of seasons, there was an era so remote that even the stones seem to have forgotten it. The elders tell that in those days the world was different, not because its mountains were different or because the seas occupied different shores, but because existence itself seemed to breathe in a different way. Winters lasted entire generations, forests grew to hide the horizon, and storms could remain over the same region for years without moving a single step. It was a time when creatures were born, lived, and died without ever understanding who truly ruled over them, for the power of the Archking Generalissimo Demon was so ancient that it seemed to be part of the natural laws of the world. Just as no one questions the existence of the sea or the arrival of night, no one questioned his dominion. He had been there since before memories, since before genealogies, since before the first songs."
"The tales describe him as a tyrant of inconceivable cruelty, but also as a figure so immense that it is impossible to distinguish where the ruler ended and his empire began. His fortresses spanned entire continents, his armies numbered in the trillions, and the three great slave races lived under a servitude that had lasted so long that many had forgotten even the idea of freedom. Children were born slaves, grew old as slaves, and died as slaves, while their grandchildren inherited the same chains. However, the old tales contain a strange contradiction that storytellers often mention without dwelling on it too much. If the Archking was as powerful as the legends tell, if he truly ruled over all known creation, then why did the world still exist? Why did cities keep growing? Why did rivers keep flowing and peoples keep multiplying under his shadow?." >Pappipon the Chronicler.
https://youtu.be/7zwbAWq5HoE▶ The wind descended from the northern mountain ranges, carrying with it the cold of snows so ancient that no kingdom remembered when they had begun to cover those peaks. It flowed down the gray stone slopes, passed through coniferous forests whose trunks seemed like columns holding up the sky, and finally spread over the immense steppes that occupied the heart of the continent. There, the grasses swayed, forming yellow waves under the golden light of dawn, all leaning in the same direction as if obeying a silent will. From a distance, that vegetal ocean seemed infinite, broken only by dirt roads, small walled settlements, and the long columns of smoke left by caravans crossing the vast plains. However, none of that truly captured the gaze. Every traveler, every shepherd, every merchant, and every king ended up observing the same point on the horizon. There, where the land seemed to touch the heavens, stood a structure so colossal that it was impossible to calculate its size. A black tower, wider than many cities, pierced the clouds and disappeared among them, rising to heights where not even birds dared to fly. For countless generations, that mass had dominated the landscape. The living were born in its shadow, grew old watching it from afar, and died without ever understanding who had built it or for what purpose. It was so ancient that many considered it part of nature itself, as inevitable as the mountains or the seas.
"Slaves were born seeing that silhouette. Slaves died seeing that silhouette. And their children did the same. Its presence was so ancient that no one remembered a world without it."
As the wind continued to sweep across the steppes, something else began to stir. Animals were the first to notice. Large herds abandoned territories where they had remained for centuries. Birds altered migratory routes known since time immemorial. Wolves howled for entire nights, staring at clear skies where there was no moon. Fishermen returned terrified, claiming the sea remained motionless for hours, as if something gigantic were breathing beneath its waters. The elders began to have identical dreams. They dreamed of distant trumpets echoing beyond the clouds, of roots stirring beneath the earth, and of something immense moving in the darkness of a place no man had ever seen. The wise debated. The priests performed sacrifices. The rulers sent messengers. No one could understand what these omens meant. Meanwhile, the three great slave nations continued to do the only thing they had done for centuries: hate each other. "Like idiots, we hated each other just like before."
Fortresses burned on the borders. Slaves died defending mountains whose names would be forgotten a generation later. Disputes over rivers, mines, and trade routes consumed thousands of lives each year. The slave kings exchanged threats, alliances, and betrayals while, above them all, the Archking Generalissimo Demon continued to rule, his authority extending over the entire world as naturally as winter spreads over the land when its season arrives. No one truly questioned his dominion. Some hated him. Others revered him. Most simply accepted that he had always been there. Fathers taught their children stories of his conquests in the same way they taught them the names of the stars or the course of rivers. It was a reality so ancient that it had ceased to seem like a choice.
Then the skies changed.
It didn't happen all at once. First, the stars disappeared for one night. Then, luminous cracks appeared between the clouds. Later, the trumpets arrived. Their sound swept across entire continents without anyone being able to pinpoint their origin. It didn't sound like a melody. It didn't sound like music. It sounded like a warning. Like the announcement of something inevitable. The oceans began to churn. The mountains trembled. Even the great Tower seemed to cast a different shadow under the sunlight. And then happened that which no chronicler managed to describe adequately. The firmament split open. Not like a storm breaking the clouds or lightning tearing the air. It was more like a wound, like a mirror shattering. An impossible fracture spreading across the sky. From that opening descended a single hand of light whose magnitude defied all comprehension. The slaves fell to their knees. The animals fled. The priests wept. And the hand pointed to three specific individuals in different parts of the world. "What they received that day, no one knows for sure. The tales speak of a Soul. The temples speak of a blessing. The songs speak of a strength.... But others say they were simply more chains. But whatever the truth, something changed within them. The slaves began to lift their heads. The peoples began to remember grievances they had endured for generations. Resignation vanished. In its place appeared a fierce will that spread through cities, villages, and fortresses like a fire fueled by centuries of accumulated suffering. Thunder rumbled over the steppes. Hundreds of kilometers away, entire armies advanced. Millions of steps. Millions of spears. Millions of men convinced they understood what they were fighting for. Banners waved under blackened skies. Bonfires lit the nights. Thus began the rebellion. The following decades transformed the world into an immense tomb. Fields were covered with corpses. Walls crumbled. Entire forests disappeared under fire. Rivers carried more bodies than vessels. Every victory cost thousands of lives. Every defeat demanded even more sacrifices. Children grew up hearing the sound of war drums. The elderly died without ever knowing peace. Yet, generation after generation, the armies advanced. Slowly. Painfully. Like a tide impossible to stop."
"Each victory demanded a greater one. Each defeat justified a worse one. Entire cities disappeared under fire. Ancient forests were turned to ash. The oceans filled with the wreckage of fleets so vast they seemed like continents floating on the waves. And still they continued to advance. Step by step. Death after death. Oath after oath. The war dragged on for entire generations. Many of the soldiers who left at the beginning never lived to see the outcome. It was their children and their children's children who continued to fight. And when finally the three kings reached the heart of the enemy empire, they found the Archking waiting."
>>131346 >>131266 >>131265 -What is the difference between a hilariously unforgettable memory, a life experience, childhood memories, and a tragedy? Sometimes it's simply the luck of the moment, not ending up in disgrace. You and the horned one fell into the water because your wings still needed a little more healing, but you still enjoyed those moments of fun, of freedom, of peace. Then they fell again, because they are like dumb and dumber, but they survived thanks to you recreating the Titanic scene, but you were the board for her to save herself.
-With that they enter, you shit yourself, as was narrated before, and the Manatee, comes out of his virgin cave to greet the guys who traveled from Rivera to spend Tourism at the family barbecue. He had a new acquisition, besides his face of a thousand jorgeadas because he was edgy after a bald funkopop touched his little dick when he went to bathe.
-But before that, ....
-The Inca Aryan was in the darkness of that room, stained with the entrails of infant insects, where splinters of rotten wood lay on the floor, you felt your arms sting. The veins in your hand pulsed with blood, they felt so alive with strength, and at the same time so indifferent. It wasn't hard not to notice the changes even if one took it normally, You, since you had come down here, since you decided to set foot in the Abyss for the first time, something inside you physically had changed.
-Maybe it wasn't so noticeable at first glance, but you could feel it. You were already strong, yes, but now, each time, for some reason, you were getting stronger. Pains that were once paralyzing were now tolerable. Your skin was getting tougher, your bones denser, violence more grotesque. In the jaws of the world, it changed man. Was it a gift or a curse that condemns you? Only you, the man himself, could answer that question.
...
-The sword rested in your hand, it was somewhat crude, more meant for excessive use than for decoration or a weapon of skill, and that explained its appearance. This appearance could tell you a lot about this sword, so worn, so nicked, probably years and years of continuous use without rest had worn it down so much.... but still, it stood firm with pride. So many lives, so many wars, so many duels, so many ceremonies, so many sacrifices and so many events, to end in such repose.
-You felt the weight, it was strange, its center of gravity was not normal, at least for a Western sword or a Middle Eastern saber.... Was it? poorly distributed? Was this made by unskilled hands? Everything pointed to yes, or so one could say at first glance. There were no sophisticated techniques of tempering, rudimentary, almost more like a club used by a primitive monkey than the fine metallurgy of a Dwarf, without the delicate details of an elf, or the feat of molded metals of the Tamils. But in the end, what really made a weapon? What was... what made the path of steel, which is as old as man himself? Its technique, its good forging, its excellent tempering, its great metallurgy, its refining, its balance, its agility, its handling by unskilled hands, its precision, its lightness, its versatility, its flexibility? or was it the hand that wielded it? The confidence in the iron that connected in spirit with its wielder? -If this had gotten this far with this, it made one wonder if weapons really had the tenacity of living beings, the will of man? You speak to it, and the sword... the sword breathes, you feel it. Not like a living being breathes, it's something more... Conceptual in your flame. But you feel it in your palm. The beating of the hammers like its heart. The heat of the forge, like its flame, the roughness of its guard, like its calluses.
...
-Now then, the family was gathered, the girl with her vagabond uncle who came to ask for money, and the father wanting to beat up the uncle for being a bad influence, the usual. Maya had shown her first hunt to her father, did she want approval or to prove something to him? Maybe it was something simpler, more personal, without that ego duel, but still, she received a reward or something like that. Manat's hand, already somewhat clean, rests on the girl's damp hair (noticing that she no longer closes her eyes when she sees your hand raised). Then you pinch her cheek and stretch it, seeing all her bear-trap teeth. He closes his eyes, uncomfortable, she still didn't understand the concept of this way of showing affection that grandmothers do.
Meanwhile, Wes went to the other room to steal that mamacumbo mirror, which weighs a ton and a half, and also takes up both his hands, and a future herniated disc. When you return carrying that little mirror, mirror, mirror, who is the blackest? You feel several footsteps behind you, but there's no one there. It was strange, echoing footsteps, and on wood not as rotten as the one under your feet.
-With that, the gang goes up the stairs to the ship's deck. The weight of their bodies on the rotten wood made it creak with that characteristic "wegiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii" **https://youtu.be/dnC0ipOVP_I***▶ sound or something like that. Everything was quite... desolate. Deformed and rotten corpses hidden in some corners of the deck, under some frayed ropes, or among some cracks or splinters of wood, in addition to the vegetation and moss which was making its way up high.
-As Wes observed more... he found more corpses, as if several were camouflaged in the abandonment of the ship, or waiting to be called by their captain (hidden in their rotting corner to accumulate work hours). At this, when Manat lets out his phrase YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, it is cut off by some sounds, of many more people. You feel footsteps, and voices, but they sound distant, as if behind a wall, even though it's right behind you. Several voices, and footsteps, as if people were working, some laughter, some orders, some comments, but when you turn around, there's nothing, absolutely nothing... And the voices sound, more tangible, more real behind you, to your sides, everywhere. ("Tarwaninzi! Aššanzi! Marassi=wa tuwati! Tiwatassi=wa tuwati! Appan anda tarnattani! Nawišša parnašša kuitki! Tarnašši arha watar, arha alati, arha šuppi! Kuiš tarwanaš appa iyaizzi, tamai tarwanin kuenta, tamai tiwataš idalu ešdu! Kuiš tarwanaš katta tiyaizzi, aššu arha paišdu, aššu alati paišdu, aššu wiyana paišdu! Awa! Arunaš antuhša pai! Awa! KUR.KURmeš šalhanti! Awa! Walwanzi kuit memiškanti! Tarwaninzi memiškanti! Maraš anda walhanuweni! Tarwaninzi! Tarwaninzi! Tarwaninzi!")
-Where were those sounds coming from? They were like orders, and people responding to them, in different ways or talking among themselves... But they felt like they were everywhere. The girl clings to Manat's pants, confused. Manat approaches the ropes—they were thick and large as an arm, a good nautical rope that was rotten as shit, fraying into dust or rather a moldy mush in your hand.
(....) What's inside "(parentheses)" is a different person—multiple people speaking
-And all the silence crushes the boat, now there was no more noise, no creaking, no wind, no footsteps, no voices.... Silence. Only Wes can hear some soft whispers coming from the mirror.
-The two primitive men, each in their own way, approach that rotten sail of the boat and tear off a piece each. Sound of fabric being ripped.wav With it, Wes tries to make a backpack, but only ends up tangling his hands a bit and making a messy ball out of the sailcloth. And Manat just throws that rag over his back, since his hands are full of shit, literally and hypothetically. -With that, Manat walks with the girl to the tip of the Ship, since it's a bit higher than the rest, due to the incline of the ship itself, and tries to see something.... But he is quickly pushed a bit to the side by the girl, and you can see one of those corpses, but this one is swollen like a balloon, its face almost bursting, standing. Trying to hit you again, since the girl had pushed you, causing the blow to miss. You notice that its arm is deformed, the fingers instead of being on its hand, are all over the forearm, and they lengthen like thorns that twist like worms.
1d20 = 13 3d4 = 8 1d20 = 20 3d4 = 10
-It attacks you again, but >I strongly imply you go for the barrel.
-Meanwhile, Wes notices that there are no corpses where they were before... It's completely clean. Then you notice under your feet a huge shadow of the ship's mast with the sail moving in the wind (something impossible, seeing the mast was broken and you guys broke the sail to craft fine clothes from the swim), and when you turn around.... You see them, all the dead. Some totally deformed Like the bugs Tabla and Eirim found on the bridge Others simply swollen about to burst, some with old rotten clothes like the one Manat stole the sword from but much more austere and simple, clearly not much armor.
-There were at least like 15 monkeys, but also coming from the hatches they opened to get up here, as well as some doors, some sort of thin ?legs? grew out of them and they walk slowly towards you.
Here I imply because I don't know if they are going to fight or what, if they stay, well, ignore this
-With that, Manat and the girl approach the barrel and he throws it into the water.... It doesn't break on impact from behind, it just splashes hard and sinks..... Then it comes back out of the water. Then, like a golden horse, Manat leaps from the ship. Your body was full of branches and swamp plants, but you get out of the water, and call the girl. She doesn't hesitate, and jumps in, sinking into the water. You see that she "knows" how to swim more or less, but that body weighing 20 kilos or more prevents her from reaching the surface, so you help her.
-She clings to the barrel tightly, almost like a hug, and it sinks a little. You notice how her reaction was strange, she wasn't afraid per se, you could see it in her gaze fixed on your face, with her wet hair stuck to her face, but her body was. She trembled a little, as if in panic, as if her mind didn't control her body yet, although... little by little it calms down upon seeing your face, moving her feet to steer the barrel with you towards the shore of the water.
-At that, and at the same time, Wes ties the shield to his chest with the piece of cloth he stole earlier and starts running. The wings stretch to their fullest splendor, releasing the water from before, and he takes off. As you run, you notice the dead lunging at you, trying to hit you, forcing you to maneuver to dodge them.
-Then.... You jump. The mirror was very heavy, but thanks to the height of the ship, you finally manage to glide well, although you fall quite quickly and at great speed. You rapidly get closer and closer to dry land, too fast I'd say, you'll have to make an emergency landing. Until your knees hit the mud and you fall abruptly to the ground, rolling for a few meters and the mirror getting stuck in the ground. Then behind you, Maya and Manat emerge from the water, all wet and with roots and algae like a swamp monster.
-And with that > they advance again with the bargain. they will arrive after the turn I send for Eirim and Gerardo
You cross a door. You press a random floor of an elevator. You walk distractedly down a hallway. The reasons are varied and generally unimportant to what presents itself. You end up in an unknown dimension, the closest place to limbo, the space between spaces.
Welcome to the end of the Backrooms.
...
<Environment Tutorial -Each floor has its different rules, some may share mechanics, others may not. It's up to each wanderer to figure it out. -There are 2 modes, Exploration and Safe. "Exploration" is when you move through the level. "Safe" is when you are in a camp or resting place, either your own or someone else's. -In Exploration, each turn is one hour of time. In Safe mode, time does not pass unless you sleep or perform an action that involves passing hours. -You gain 1 point for your stats each time you overcome a Backroom for the first time. This reward grows the higher the level. -There are weapons and equipment, economies, and groups of neutral, or hostile human (and non-human) characters. -At the beginning, you have no weapons or tools. At most, you have one or two everyday objects in your pockets. -When you are in Exploration mode, you must roll a 1d50 die, no exceptions. This will determine the events that occur each turn. You can roll multiple times to advance several hours (the latter is recommended).
<Dice Tutorial in Battles -Roll two 1d50 dice, the first or left determines the damage, your attack strength. The second is for speed to see if you hit, block, or dodge first, for which it must be a roll higher than the enemy's. You don't miss unless something makes you miss. -Effort Mode: For every point of energy you decide to spend, you can apply a +2 to your left or right dice, or a +1 to each die. You can activate effort mode during any fight or physical and mental action. Just remember one thing, and that is if your energy reaches 0, you will fall asleep.
<Regarding Combat Experience The adversary's stats determine how many experience points are gained upon victory. The higher the adversary's rank, the more experience it offers. I will use an entity as an example.
Defeating a window would grant 9 experience points. If you fight alongside other PCs or NPCs, the experience is divided among the parties. If there are leftover points, whoever dealt the most damage to the enemy gets the remainder.
>List of First Ranks E 0 - 10. D 11 - 20. C 21 - 30. B 31 to 40. Etc.
>>5897 → >Ashley Later, the girl found herself sitting in a chair, already waiting for the time that, according to Charmy, was getting closer and closer.
To pass the last moments, she waited by the door. A certain song had been stuck in her head for a while, but she didn't want to think about it yet, so she ended up picking up a small book that looked cute from its cover and letting it steal her attention for a bit.
The story was very short, and the little rooster so tenderly drawn to sell the work was a very important character. The pages, yellowish and perfumed by the antiquity of the paper, went by quickly, giving way to an ending that left the girl with a grimace of sadness.
She turned the last page and looked at the back cover, as if expecting more. But all she found was the certainty that the short novel had left her sad and full of uncertainty. That story showed a very fitting parallel with her that touched something in her heart or near it in a way that hurt.
She looked at the door. The one through which the doctor would soon arrive, and she couldn't help but compare herself to the protagonist in her wait. But with the key difference of hope. Catherine expected the worst. She realized at that moment that all this time she hadn't had hope. That she assumed whatever the doctor was going to say would greatly harm her and Hilda as well.
Catherine puffed out her chest like a turkey showing off its feathers. At first, she seemed to want to channel the colonel's energy... but she let out the air with another sigh, returning to her shy reality.
(I wish I could have more hope...)
...
A while later, there was a knock at the door. Cat seemed to startle, as if that tapping was her cue to exist. She quickly looked at Charmy, who was glancing outside before giving her the signal. The girl went down and ran, with the clumsiness of being unaccustomed to the coat, to the door to open it quickly. It was an inverted slam, but to the wind, just a slam that it used to burst into the house, almost breaking Cat's nose, who proceeded to hold it with her whole body and push it with her shoulder to return it where it belonged.
(Perfect.) Catherine nodded to herself, acknowledging her own good work before turning and finding the only person this visitor could possibly be.
"You're right on time." -or rather, shortly after Charmy announced she'd be arriving soon. Such a thing deserves recognition-
<Hello, darling. Do you remember me?
Cat responded with a nod and nothing more. It would be difficult to forget that first day, and she was a big part of that first day.
<I've been told you've made new friends.
(Not true...)
She kept that to herself. She didn't need to receive a response like that. For Cat, her only real connection has been Hilda.
(...people...)
She had an echo of her blue child's words. The one where she said perhaps people were worth as much as a pretty place. Catherine dismissed the idea of meeting more people at that moment, the idea of meeting more people was difficult for her. That was perhaps more the Catherine who stayed in Oregon than the one standing before Julia now.
An intrusive thought sprang like a spring in her brain: 'Won't I regret this?'
(No.) -she denied the idea as soon as she could- (everything was as it should have been.)
And so she tried to calm herself, knowing those words were somewhat hollow, but also knowing she couldn't do any more to change them now.
<I hope you also discovered some music you like.
"..." -she looked up, derailing her train of thought, she was surprised, feeling as if she had guessed what had happened only a few hours ago-
(That doesn't make sense...)
But she didn't allow herself to think something so silly. And those raised boxes and her little mouth turned into a smooth circle, returned to their original position. Neutral for a second, then almost uncomfortable with her eyebrows lowering to squint her eyes, which went to the side and down, fleeing those scrutinizing eyes.
"...yes..."
She responded almost listlessly. The song that had been burned into her mind for a while now seemed beautiful to her, as if from a fairy tale. One of those she used to read and share with dad on nights when her whole world seemed to be made of joy. When she was happy. But at the same time, it filled her with enormous sadness. Not just laden with nostalgia, but because she had put into melody what she planned to tell Hilda, stealing from Dad that idea of quoting lines from books and incorporating them into real life, as if Cat didn't know that one thing or another was thought up by someone else. Someone who didn't really exist.
Hilda wouldn't know. Maybe Cat would tell her, but otherwise, she wouldn't know. That wouldn't matter much. What the girl was looking for was simply to verbalize what she feared most in case this went wrong.
The three of them went to a more private place. The basement.
(The opposite of the attic.)
That's right. Cat sat in the chair they designated for her.
(It's cold.)
She thought she'd prefer a less cold one, but soon that thought was replaced by another confirming that she didn't care. Julia approached her and looked into her huge eyes. Catherine was as cooperative as possible, even though she didn't want to be. Allowing her head to be manipulated so the flashlight had better access to her sea of green. Her pupils contracted and her eyelids narrowed at the hand holding them open uncomfortably.
<Tell me everything you can about your episodes. The more detailed you are, the better.
"Everything..." -she repeated, trying to synthesize the magnitude of such a request-
The doctor put down the flashlight. Cat blinked several times, hoping that would be enough to calm her sensitive eyes. It turns out she's a girl very accustomed to nightlife, in the literal sense, meaning she enjoyed moving around the woods at night. Not jumping between bars, especially when the only one she'd been to exploded.
They give her a little tap. Catherine kicks her leg. Looking at her leg, she made a face of worried surprise she couldn't help, her eyebrows arched and her lips slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her white teeth. Then she looked at Julia with the same expression.
"I didn't do that...!"
She sounded as if she had just failed at something and had to justify herself. Her back was slightly raised, as if the fright, impatience, or nerves wanted to tear her from the chair.
<Depending on what you tell me, I'll be able to infer whether what's affecting you is psychological... Or a material and physical phenomenon.
"..." -she shrank back in her seat- That was what she most wanted to know... And, once again, returning her face to its normal, expressionless state, she remembered her greatest fear: that she didn't know which of the two options was actually worse.
They asked her to say 'ah'.
"Ah."
It was short and literal. Julia had to explain a bit more to get to the:
"Ahhhhhh"
She saw herself in another world as they put a popsicle stick in her mouth. With her gaze lost on the wall visible to the side of the doctor, she doesn't remember thinking anything in particular, but she was surely thinking about everything. Julia seemed blurry, as if the wall were the most important thing in her vision. Then the examination stopped.
<On a superficial level, I don't perceive anything out of place beyond some particularly prominent canines. For now, I'll rule out vampirism.
"..."
(That's fantasy.)
Dracula... She had seen Bigfoot, and it was very curious, but vampires still sounded like fantasy to her. She, clearly, wasn't one. Otherwise, she would know. That's what she thought. Her canines were just like that, they had to be, for biting. Although it was a bit strange. Dad's were normal. She always thought it was because maybe hers were like Mom's, Dad always said Cat looked a lot like her mother. Just like her, but small...
Then Julia reaches for a sandwich.
(Clearly not food.)
In its classic flavor vs. food battle, this thing was the most 'flavor' of all flavors. More than Tarzan's Flavor, which was called that.
(Heh.)
The corners of her lips curved upward for a second from the inside joke. Then they quickly returned to their place, remembering that she wanted to keep her face neutral. Anyway, the point was that that sandwich wasn't food. Her little nose twitched a bit from the overload of aromas, but she got used to it easily and quickly.
The combination struck her as extremely strange. Meat and banana combined was odd to her. But she didn't judge it; if Cat got really hungry, she would have devoured it too. Even if Dad would never have allowed her to even touch food that looked so unhealthy with a stick.
<I didn't have time to eat dinner during the trip. Do you mind if I eat while we talk? It's an Elvis. If you'd like, I can offer you some.
"No."
That answer was for both, the question and the offer.
>>5904 → >But it also means that victory or defeat will be the responsibility of all of humanity. Aren't you scared of what they'll put on our epitaph?
"What they'll put on my tombstone?" He doesn't understand the other word. "No. I am scared of dying, but not of thinking about how I'm going to die. I'll surely be more scared when the worm is already on top of us."
Imagining a hideous bug is coming to kill him is like reading a creepypasta. At most, he'll think a fat worm promoting peace and love is a silly monster and believe it's one of those parodies. It's when he has something like that in front of him and truly threatening his life that he starts to feel fear.
>Are you sure? Giordano told the truth, he defended that the Earth revolves around the sun, and they threw him in the fire. Sometimes people can't live with the truth. The man I came from fought with it every day.
"It's also not certain they'll give me anything important to do just because I'm older than I look. I'm still not an Action Man, or a G.I. Joe, or at least a Rambo."
He stands on the stool to look again at his unimpressive physique, searching for a flabby or fleshy spot to pinch to highlight, of which he probably has several due to his sedentary life in recent weeks.
"The other thing I was thinking of was looking for those white native girls. It seemed like they already knew I wasn't a child and they gave me the bow. But Tom was the one who knew where they were... And well..."
He sits back down with his head bowed. Tom is like his first or second role model in the storage rooms, a strong and good guy who survived many things, except Bill.
"If the man you came from was a liar, then all the more reason not to be one. I don't know if it was the same guy I met, but I disliked him from the start. People like that are better off going to the..." He gets too emotional and almost swears at the table, it takes him a few moments to calm down and he pretends to pass them with a spoonful of the food he has left. "May they go to hell. If someone is a bad influence, you can stop hanging out with them, even if they're family."
>Okay, okay! I won't sell it... For now. But I can't give it back to you either, many of its parts are soaked in fuel, it's very flammable.
"M-mm." He nods. "Tom-toma..." The emotions he was trying to contain as an unflappable male are of great help when he needs to act like a crying little girl and manages to save Flametower from being sold, but it works too well and he has a hard time talking or breathing properly for a while, so he just asks Alondra to open her hand to give him the trinkets he picked up after landing, to see if they help with the repair.
After that, he turns around and zips up his coat to cover as much of his face as possible out of shame. Luckily, no one else he knows pays attention to his humiliation.
>The fly came out of here.
"Mm?" He covers his nose "From your finger?" He crosses his eyes to look at the finger in front of his nose and any holes it might have.
>I pricked something wet, what do you think it is?
"Something dead?" It smells like that to him "Some things release a lot of juices when they've been dead for a while and flies like those things."
>>5905 → "Good morning." He says to Flametower, and it is, because it's dawning dry, which for him is a victory.
He looks at the men left in the village working outside and yawns, reconsidering again about working even though no one is demanding it. The chewed-up blanket he got out of bed even sounds cozy after feeling the aches from the night before. He's about to fall asleep standing up when something suddenly touches his shoulder.
>Wet it with milk.
"Eeek!" He squeaks again but plays it tough and just watches Charli until he receives the stale bread "Thanks..." He bites the bread without paying attention and checks how hard it is, this, too, he tries to ignore to maintain appearances "Good morning."
After breakfast, he accompanies Charli to deal with a problem he can completely empathize with.
"I never knew why girls always went to the bathroom together. I thought it was to gossip more than to pee, but not that they did both things at the same time." He speaks from outside the bathroom as Charli asked, leaning his back and the sole of a shoe against the wall with a hard look as if he were a bouncer outside a club "My grandma always said only crazy people talked to themselves, I didn't understand how videos or the internet worked and she'd scold me when she saw me recording myself with my phone. I still recorded more when I was out of the house, in some abandoned place. I stopped recording videos because no one watched them and I didn't want someone who was in those places to hear me." He doesn't regret his failed career as an influencer, content creator, urban explorer, or whatever it was, really, it's obvious nobody succeeds with that stuff, it doesn't bother him at all to fail. After all, exploring dangerous places at night is something you do for the love of it, or out of hatred for your family and as an excuse to spend less time at home with them... Although if getting another, more masculine body doesn't work out but escaping from storage rooms does, maybe he'll get more views just with the face he already has.
"Hey... Do you do anything specific with your hair or is that magic too? Instead of combing it, I just put on a cap and that was it." He still misses her "But if I'm going to be in this body for a long time, maybe-"
The door suddenly opens and he jumps in surprise.
>I'm as good as new. Let's go back.
"Mm..." He points to his shoe "You've got... something on there."
Outside, they recognize Alondra's new car, although 'new' isn't the right word.
>Do you like it? It's a loan from the local government. Its previous owner was torn to shreds by the ice zombies, I doubt they'll want it back...
"Yes!" He almost jumps into the car with excitement, although the space doesn't allow it.
It's very strange for him to be able to travel by car, not even by taxi, for the car to belong to someone he knows is hard to believe, he doesn't care much if it's an old or used car, as long as it works.
"Does the government give loans just like that to anyone who asks or are you someone important in town? It seemed strange to see you last night with the mayor on... that stage."
Halfway there, they stop so he can see again how Alondra's giant robot ended up and wonder how a single guy with a whip and a revolver did that without even being touched by one of those heavy weapons.
"Did you also kill someone last night?" Alondra will know better than anyone, it's best to ask her directly. He's not going to believe that such a large war machine shot peace and love, unless they were the kind the town sheriff always carried on her shoulder.
>Do you see those guys working on top of the palisade?
"If I didn't see them, I shouldn't even have a bow." He squints to see if he recognizes any of them, which is difficult because he only knew about 4 people from the BNTG by sight, although the fact that they are still here after having finished providing reinforcements last night is a good thing, and that there are more than a handful is even better. >In the cold air, the final wave is smelled and awaited. If you were old enough to know video games, the closest analogy would be preparing to play Left or Dead 7 in real life.
"Do you have to be old to know games?" He doesn't understand, in all the stores they always sold him any game regardless of the number on the ESRB cover. "In Plants versus Zombies there were waves too." He doesn't know the other game, while he remembers how easy it was to pirate and install even on school computers.
After the town was almost taken over by unknown mercenaries, assuming that's what happened, having strangers wandering around the town again doesn't make him trust them either, but surely it won't happen again. He gets to work, until someone else calls him.
>A lemonade, please.
"F-flametower, the lemonade!" He shouts almost immediately out of nervous reflex, not wanting to lose a customer, but the robot he's shouting at isn't making lemonade, it's in a backpack.
>Artemis.
"What did you call me?" Genuinely confused.
>No, no. Your bow. You're like Artemis now. That's cool.
"Ah." He stands tall, proud. "I don't know her." He puts his finger on his chin and starts thinking. "Hmm... There was a guy in The Walking Dead with a bow too. Darryl, I think it was, or Dale. I don't know, that series had like 10 seasons and I stopped watching it. But he was cool too, he used arrows to shoot zombies without making more noise and attracting more zombies."
He takes the arrow Dora extends to him and puts it away, his hand trembling, not knowing if he even has lemonade to give her. He looks around nervously, looking for an excuse to stall for time among the rubble of his house or a glass of lemonade conveniently placed somewhere.
"Uhh... Were you here last night too? The kids around here are really tough, huh... Want to see it?" He offers her the bow to entertain herself while he runs off to find lemonade somewhere. "I'll be right back... Alondra! Do we have lemonade!?" I think you also left me a bit more luck than I should have had, I used 1 in the fight and only leveled up 1 with experience.
>>5897 → >Ashley ...and she stayed like that. Sitting there with a blank expression for a while.
She was in one of those situations again—ones she never got used to. An interrogation. Getting information out of Cat was, as always, a small test of endurance. Though maybe "patience" was the more appropriate word.
To begin with... well, the girl didn't know where to start. One would say "from the beginning," and she thought that herself, but floating in the air was also the question of whether she even wanted to start, even though she was the one who agreed to the conversation. Also, how to start. Questions piled up, and though they were the most basic ones, in situations like this they became the heaviest and hardest to answer.
Almost instinctively, Cat's gaze drifted away, eventually landing on Charmy, who was comfortably sitting in her box. The girl's expression said nothing, but her inaction spoke for itself. She spent a few moments using her blank face to silently convey her wish that the woman would speak for her. Charmy did know quite a bit about the story after all, though it would be inappropriate for someone else to take the lead in the orchestra she herself had assembled.
Realizing her attempt had failed, her face continued avoiding Julia, but now also Charmy. She looked here, there, and though the basement had few things of interest—especially compared to the leader's office—that wasn't really the point; the point was to buy some time.
"Aren't you going to auscultate me?"
She asked. That was a word she never used, and she knew it. She wouldn't have used it in other contexts, beyond the obvious reason, because it was one of those words she discarded the moment she learned it. Like "subreption," even though it fit her life perfectly, or "garrulous," because that sounded strange to her, and besides, it was the opposite of the quiet and reserved Catherine.
"..." —she looked back at Julia— "Why do you combine them?" —more precisely, she was looking at the sandwich— "meat and banana." —it sounded strange— "it looks unhealthy. But bananas are healthy. Do they cancel out the lack of nutrition?"
That was one way to see it.
"Is it bittersweet?" —like her memories?—
...finally, she looked her in the eyes.
"...I kept... a camera..." —another random piece of information— "..." —she sighed, curling up slightly in her seat; since those days in level 5, she could no longer hide her feelings like before—
The sigh made her lower her head for a moment. When she lifted it again, her eyebrows were slightly drooped, weighed down by sadness.
"I'll tell you... everything."
And so she did:
"The first thing that happened was a long time ago. Many days."
"I don't know about the second... during those days I couldn't sleep... The days... I couldn't tell them apart."
"..." —such a confession deserved a pause; she looked at the floor for a moment, but forced herself to raise her head again— "that doesn't matter." —more or less— "it happened out of nowhere... it was at night..." —she looked at the doctor with the seriousness trauma demands— "everything stopped... everything. Only I... I could move."
She raised her hand, placing a palm into the air to express what came next.
"And the air... in front of me..." —she stared at the space before her palm, at the distance where the phenomenon had appeared that night— "it cracked... like glass... and... something... something looked at me... it was..." —she suddenly closed her eyes, bringing her hand to her head, grimacing— "ow..." It happened again. And it would keep happening. Remembering that thing made her head hurt—a headache like when you drink something icy too fast. Fleeting, but sharp, like a slap to the brain.
Without removing her hand from her forehead, she looked at Julia, the same worry she felt mirrored on the doctor’s face.
"It hurt so much to see it... it... it hurt my head..." She shook her head slightly. "It hurts," she corrected herself. "If I remember... it hurts."
She managed to lower her hand. Once that was settled, and once Cat stopped staring at her shoes like she was waiting for a terrible scolding, she lifted her gaze slightly, looking up at the doctor from below.
"...other things happened after... recently..."
No one knew this. Not even Charmy... not Hilda. This was new.
"When I was in the urban level with Hilda..."—the 5—"and we were eating... something strange happened..."
She didn’t know how to begin. Again. But she forced herself not to deflect, though obeying her own command took at least half a minute—unless she was rushed, which might’ve backfired.
"...I... I don’t know how... but I saw myself... I saw myself trapped. By some... clothing..."—she hugged herself, mimicking the grip of a straitjacket—"by clothes that wouldn’t let me move... I couldn’t move at all... it was... it was horrible..."—she leaned slightly forward, giving herself the look of a disturbed child that her story had been missing—
"And... and... I was... locked inside a night. It was raining... there was a storm. And someone was talking to me... a doctor... Doctor... Kraepelin..."—she recalled as the details came back—"he was telling me..."—and she raised her eyes, wide open, to quote—"...You must come back to us... you have to return... to the real world..."
She looked down again. The floor seemed like the best place to gather her thoughts. That scene terrified her more than any monster ever could. She’d felt trapped, lost, distant. Like losing everything in the blink of an eye.
"I didn’t want that... I didn’t want it... and... when it ended... I was just back at the table. Like... nothing had happened..."
...it took her a moment to compose herself. But she realized that having her own arms wrapped around her was the most comfortable way to finish talking.
"Also... I saw a basket..."
She’d wanted to talk about that with Hilda, but distractions made it impossible. She lifted her gaze, now with her usual calm back on her face.
"Do babies go in baskets?"
That question she’d practiced earlier that day, and had finally managed to ask.
"I saw a woman giving a basket to a monkey... and... I also saw a baby’s hand... same day."—the day of the other vision, she means—"I don’t know if I imagined it... dad..."—she stopped hugging herself, realizing she’d said too much, placed her hands on the chair, and her eyes drifted to the wall parallel to Charmy—"dad used to see things sometimes..."—she confessed outright, figuring Julia wouldn’t just drop the question—
It took her another second to look back. She met the doctor’s gaze with all the seriousness her blank expression could convey. And she confessed the last strange thing that had unsettled her:
In a dark space, a place far from time and space, from the universe as we know it, an infinity of large crystals can be seen, which inside hold images of what happens in the multiple timelines.
However, many of those crystals are slowly consumed by a dark energy...
>>4757 → >I'm glad you still see that role with affection, when the truth is I didn't put much effort into it and like the first of CSM, I made it with an expiration date in mind, now I regret a bit of that, because Daio did like me
Well, that's life. At least it fulfilled what it was meant for, it was a fun adventure with what I got to see. It ended up as a nice memory, which is what's important. I'm glad you had a good time during those times, despite the fact, as I myself pointed out, it had characterization errors here and there that even annoyed me kek
>Is there a memeshonen story without a yaoi potential? Naruto? KEEEK
>I think I never told, but after training with Karin, I was going to go down and save the demon tribe village, and they were going to give him a flying cloud to make the trip easier Keksito, Daio was 100% compatible with the flying cloud, but what about Tacu? Or was he going to have to become the backpack of the rag?
>At some point I was going to train with young Grandpa Gohan, or Tao Pai Pai Quality. I suppose more with young Grandpa Gohan, because although I love the idea of training with Tao Pai Pai, I don't think Daio would look at someone who is a mercenary very favorably keksito.
>I counted on the other players meeting each other at some point, otherwise you could only steal the spheres at the last moment from the demons, kek. Keksito, as far as I remember, I think I lasted the longest in that role. I didn't pay much attention when I reread, but I think the rest lolmurió, or only another anon was left. But it would have been interesting to make a party, pity it didn't happen. I'm sure everyone would have gotten along, or at least tolerated each other in the style of original dragonball kek
>Bebal was also going to be semi redeemable because Lucifer's plan involved destroying humanity, so he wouldn't be able to play anymore and that made him switch sides at the last moment I always saw him that way, like he wasn't entirely bad. I even felt that in other circumstances he could have been a friend of Daio, but well, they practically represented the two opposing sides. But that. They could have gotten along. Pity, it's like... two African child soldiers shooting at each other kek
>I also have it very blurry, so take it with a grain of salt Keksito, something is something. To close that good memory.
>esc never are we going to see Daio as a CHADHuman defending the earth from androids, the army of Cold, and other toriyameadas magic >Trsitisimo
Maybe it wouldn't make much chronological sense, but yes, it's a pity...
I thought about using Daio for this role. But even as a kid, he would surely have realized it was you before rolling, and he would have done it. Although the truth is, given what I've seen, I can't imagine this role carrying Daio instead of Mick kek
>Aldo >plot twist mode anime: Daio doesn't want to kill the demons and ruins the role kek
>>4770 → >I like him more with this hairstyle, but the big tits aren't bad either, kek Agreed. Short-haired girls are quality. But Mick couldn't choose! He just needs them to be pretty, and with an interesting personality. There's an extra bonus if they have his character. That's why Taino was discarded, her brain was too childish and that bothered Mick, he would see it as taking advantage of her or something like that kek. And rejecting to be part of his team was to maintain the meme of the game that you can't join him.
"Exclaims Ginyu before releasing his attack named lactico." "You don't let yourself be intimidated and advance against the attack, you should have faced it, tornado against tornado, your arm spins like a whirlwind to deflect his attack, and for a moment it seems to work, until suddenly a foreign force tightens around you like a chain"
"Ginyu uses his telekinesis, you suspect more strongly than usual by that red glow in his eyes and messes up the movement of your arms, weakening the tornado and trying to leave you prisoner, your speed reduced and about to be the victim of the attack"
"A sudden ray passes by your ear, not from Ginyu, but from Vegeta, who fires his own attack against Ginyu's, detonating it before it hits you, but still, the explosion hits you" "You fly through the air until you get up, the immense tornado of dust suddenly stopping and scattering dirt for kilometers, visibility was low, but you can still feel that sudden surge of ki, there it comes!"
"Whirlwind lactico!"
"Ginyu appears spinning like a whirlwind himself, stealing your flow and breaking your defense quickly with a elbow." "He makes more distance between you, Ginyu stops and lands in the air."
"Jaja, I see you have good style terricola!, the accompanying movement along with the attacks is something I like"
"Pay attention!"
"Vegeta comes in for a weak hit and hits Ginyu in the face, they start a short exchange that ends with Ginyu pushing Vegeta away with a kick even if he managed to block it"
"Tch..."
"Vegeta complains"
"What's more surprising is that there's a terricola this strong, is that the principito did it too, did your new friends give you some tips, Vegeta?"
"Vegeta frowns"
"It will be fun to bring you head to Freezer"
"Ridiculous, I could never allow that you damage the view of my lord with such atrocity, I will be the one who brings his heads"
"He repositioned, now charging ki in his hands, and launches a quick burst of attacks"
>>4773 → these levels of mememagia are ridiculous Vegeta is going to be left without a body, kek >>4770 → >131582 >KEK you got me, OP. That's the meta, otherwise they would steal your body
>But Tacu?, or was it supposed to have to become the backpack of the little shit? A good person is not the same as a pure heart, I think his case would have made a gag of getting on it, starts to slowly descend from the cloud instead of falling face first like Roshi or Bulma, but yeah, it would have been a backpack
>I suppose more with the old man Gohan, because although I love the idea of training with Tao Pai Paichad The idea with Tao would have been much gag and Daio or he would find out too late or never do it, that or it would have been before Tao became an assassin while being like 40 years in the past or something, I don't remember anymore
>I think I was the one who lasted the longest in that role Yes, the rest of lol died at the 5 turns, kek
>Practically they represented the two opposite sides. It was going to be epic, they were going to make a double kamehameha and all that, kek
>Maybe it wouldn't have much chronological sense That was going to be the joke in the long run in that universe at least, cussing the canon before Koku arrived to the earth, the difference is that here you do it after
>I thought about using Daio for this role Time lines are infinite, Daio could well be a warrior from the other world like Pikuhan
>Daio doesn't want to kill demons and ruins the role Kek, it would be very steven universe but I don't think it sounds very toriyama to make an entirely evil race, surely and some demons (at least based on something like what toei showed before Daima and the demon realm) are good people and all that, nothing more the bad ones are the ones who cross to mess around
>To him it's enough that they are cute, and with an interesting personality. There's a plus if they have his character. To Mick they ask, "What type of woman do you like?" What does he answer? al me la seguiste el gag, kek
⋯
Club de Literatura 5 & Knucles ft Dante from Devil May Cry - New Funky modeRoleroMorganite-08a738No.4440es
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Battle? ERP? Action? Odiseas? Here is the testing field where you can practice as you like or share literary material of various kinds, if desired, other anons can give feedback by proposing scenarios or situations which you have to roleplay or describe in exchange for an opinion or critical look at your prose and interpretation.
The other day I saw how famous those "narrating stories" videos from DnD, also from 4chan, etc. were, and I started thinking that... Odysseys have already been made here, or the MEGAODYSSEY /Hisrol/ (>>121188). And I asked myself... Why not turn it into Loquendo, edit it a little (background music, and some sound effects at most....) And upload it to the chon's channel???
I mean, reading it is very entertaining, each odyssey is different, and they don't shove 8,000,000 characters of a thread down your throat, but rather it's told in a narrated way. I don't know if it's a bad idea, I would watch it, and I saw that it was relatively "in fashion".
Draulilfa used to be a great and prosperous continent where three dominant races coexisted, the Elves, the Dwarves, the Dragonkin and the Na'k. For centuries these races lived in peace, sharing the resources that the land had to offer. But over time, the seed of ambition began to grow slowly among the Na'k. Soon these began their campaign of expansion across the continent, marking the beginning of the Rupture Wars. For centuries the war between the four civilizations continued without any of the factions ever defeating the other. Until finally, a catastrophic event brought an end to the conflict, extinguishing a large number of species in the process and splitting the great continent into three, Belia, Valia and Winla.
The Na'k became extinct, the Dragonkin escaped to some unknown place, the Elves and Dwarves remained in the micro continents, scattered in populations that barely reached the hundreds. These had to adapt to the altered environments caused by the magic used during the war. They also witnessed how new conscious races evolved thanks to the magic-laden environments, beginning to interact with these in order to form bonds and to monitor them to prevent an event like that of the Na'k from happening again. So the centuries passed and all the races allied, living in harmony. In every village, city or settlement, in every place you can see members of any race living peacefully together. This has brought both good and bad things. Soon various criminal groups, cults and others began to form. Also, various creatures created as tools and weapons for the war began to evolve, from slimes, chimeras, giant insects and a long list of other things.
At this moment various stories will begin, maybe you have something to do with that story. Maybe you are just a passerby in this, or you take a central role. All you know is that these lands have a lot to offer and you maybe have what it takes to get it.
Name: Race: Gender: Age: 12 minimum 25 maximum Class: Below I will make a list of the available classes Background: That to which you were dedicated before becoming an adventurer or that you still dedicate yourself to. Below I will leave a list of the available backgrounds and the bonuses they provide. Initial Equipment: A weapon of your choice, if it is a magical weapon explain in the biography why you possess it, armor of your choice, a bag of objects with 3 healing potions and provisions for a journey, a personal talisman, 50 gold coins. Biography: Tell us about yourself.
Statistics: Constitution: Represents your endurance. Strength: Represents your physical power. Dexterity: Represents your agility and flexibility. Intelligence: Represents your memory and ability to reason. Wisdom: Represents your perceptiveness and intuition. Charisma: Represents how strong and attractive your personality is.
All characters start with 5 base points in all statistics and 10 points to distribute. The classes provide a major bonus and two minor bonuses to certain stats, these will be along with the class.
Finally they have to choose an anthology that they will protagonize within the world:
1: Your first job was to escort a young noble from the city of Ithassu to the small village of Etesh, will you limit yourself to doing your job? Or will you end up forming a bond?
2: By the twists of fate you ended up as a member of a band of criminals dedicated to highway robberies. Despite it being a relatively simple and enjoyable life, you and the other members feel they can become something more.
3: A noble tasked with recovering a valuable and dangerous relic that your family was entrusted with protecting for centuries. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes to get that object back into your hands.
>Kilt and you ventured deeper into the oasis in search of more firewood to spend the night, both of you began to walk carefully through the lush terrain of the oasis, using natural shadows to try and go unnoticed, seeking to avoid an unwanted encounter.
>It was like this that you spent time in silence, you had already managed to gather a bit more firewood, but there was something that caught your curiosity, the physical power that Kilt had demonstrated called your attention strongly, especially how she had obtained it, since you couldn't feel even a little magic in it.
>Finally you decided to break the silence, starting a conversation, taking the dwarf by surprise, she looked at you a bit surprised, listening attentively to what you had to say.
Kilt: Well, I'm the daughter of a blacksmith, so I spent a good part of my childhood in front of the anvil hammering, that and the weapon training from dad forged the arms you see now, but I'm not just muscles eh, this figure you see is thanks to this armor that seems more like a damn sauna.
>The dwarf then flexed one of her arms while giving herself a pat on the stomach with the other, it was then that you asked permission to touch one of her arms, a bit nervous thinking about how the dwarf would react.
Kilt: Go ahead, handsome, but if you go too far I owe you a drink.
>Her voice had a playful tone while flexing her arm, your hand that you had unconsciously brought closer finally came into contact with Kilt, the warm and somewhat rough skin of the dwarf was the first thing you felt, followed by something you could only describe as a steel ball, firm, extremely hard and inflexible. some simply majestic muscles.
>While running your hand along the dwarf's arm you felt how her muscles tensed in front of your touch, the veins marked across her arm pulsing with blood, her hands looked thicker than yours, heavy, you could notice calluses on her palms as well as some scars that seemed to be from burns.
Kilt: Enough touching for now, if you behave and manage to gather more firewood than me I'll let you touch something better, now let's get moving, it's already starting to get cold.
>You managed to notice a slight blush on Kilt's face while saying this, the dwarf then got to work again looking for more firewood to return to the campsite, on your part, you also felt how the blood had come to your face, the heat of the blush made your burned cheeks hurt a bit, although this was eased by the cold breeze that began to rise in the desert while the moon began to rise in the sky.
Sorry for the delay negro, roll a D20 for research to gather firewood, please note that you have two bonus points on the roll and if you roll over 10 you get the reward, although the blood worms exist, but it's not time to bring them into the role
>I watch as the cart creature consumes whatever that was, making a funny effect, like it was a dragon, with fire in its stomach. My face appreciates how those African children look when they see something of technology for the first time, childish curiosity with adult distrust.
I stretch my arms as if wanting to show the size of a dragon, then move them as if they were wings. Dragons were beings of unimaginable power, if I could have a child with a dragon, it would be an even stronger being. I just cross my arms and nod, as if listening to my thought and say "what a good idea" although the Gorjal couldn't hear this, just looking at me like a schizophrenic.
I stretch my hand like those Chinese monkeys, and observe the object.... I smell it a bit and put it in my mouth, then try to imitate the ogrorco, absorbing the smoke... and absorbing... and absorbing more, until my face turns red, purple, blue ....
"COG COFCOFCFFOOFF AHhhgggg"
"COF COF"
>I return the pipe and continue coughing, letting out the smoke, how was this pleasant? It was like when I made a campfire and the wind sent the smoke to my eyes, making them tear up. And with that I cross my arms and stay silent watching the landscape...... ............................................ But fortunately, the orc breaks the ice.
I turn, get up, my face, observing the Lizard on the ceiling, to see if it woke up or if it's okay there, then looking at the Gorjal.
"No"
"..."
"I'll use it later, for now I need it"
"Later I can lend it to you maybe"
>Then the cart stops suddenly, I look around until Teturricas and the Yak, come out with the other.... And they go, into the forest. So I look at the Orc in silence, not understanding why? Are they going to hunt? To the bathroom? I didn't understand why if they were going to urinate, not just.... They urinated on the tree in front, why did they have to go so deep into the forest?. So I just sit down.... waiting..... and waiting...... but curiosity was greater.
"...."
>Without being able to hold back this curiosity, since I wasn't raised with limits, nobody raised me, I get off the cart and walk in that direction, a bit "away" to not go directly, but to be able to see.
>Both walked in the scant silence the oasis afforded; they didn't need to worry much about sounds, but rather about the strange colors that clashed in this kind of environment. The calm water seemed like a mirror reflecting the skies, that strange and unknown place that had always filled him with immense curiosity. What lies there? Are the gods there? Looking through a telescope only revealed spheres and light; he had tried it when he was a high-class boy. What mysteries lie beyond the near? >Victoria paid attention to the surroundings, gathering fallen branches and breaking them for easier transport. Watch out for any threats, but more importantly, watch for plants or anything else with some use. It wasn't the first or last time she'd been out gathering and hunting, and she'd better get extra value out of this firewood search with the dwarf.
1d20 = 10
>Then a conversation arose between them, the admiration of strength and power (like any mage) and his subsequent explanation, which the boy paid close attention to; after all, it was interesting. It was nothing more than physical training since childhood, participating in blacksmithing and weapon training, something he'd seen coming. Dwarves have the stereotype of blacksmithing and weapon mastery, and it was good to meet an authentic one. He'd always been fascinated by creation, someone's hands crafting things and all that, just as he creates magic.
...
>Without saying a word, he gave a single tap to the armor to make it ring, one of those taps you give a closed door. Well, in the end, it was a satisfactory response from Kilt, something that increased his interest.
It's curious that these things look so heavy and clunky but aren't at all. Anyway, you should be careful using this in the desert. You're used to the heat and all that, I know, I sense it, but it's better to be careful.
>He observed it a bit more, hand on his chin, then adjusted his throat and continued.
So your father and blacksmithing. Could you ever teach me?!
>He asked that last part spontaneously. It was his chance and he wasn't going to waste it. He looked enthusiastic, both hands clasped pleading "please" while holding the branches under his non-dominant arm.
It has to be more than heating a mineral and striking it into shape, right? Right?! I know about ferriferous sand and coal specialties. Please teach me.
>How exactly is a sword created? How is a blade shaped? Do blacksmiths also work wood to make arrows or leather for scabbards? Must one put a soul into their creations and work with passion? Blacksmithing raised many questions for him, and in his mind he imagined a building made of just that, but his attention to the woman's body wouldn't let him imagine a place for that blacksmithing; there was simply an empty space. >Now he was paying attention to Kilt's strong body. Maybe he found her attractive, maybe it was just appreciation for raw physical strength and power. What could he even call attractive? His tastes were particular. >at that, he asks for permission, the darkness on his cheeks fading quickly as he laughs at the woman's comment granting him permission to touch.
Don't worry, my hands won't slip. The last clown I saw getting too smart ended up without teeth for touching the wrong woman.
>laughs remembering the man who was truly a jester, a bounty hunter, but a jester nonetheless. Pluto the Deceiver. Peculiar characters from his city, as ugly and beautiful as always. >without further ado, he leans in slightly to match her height, then proceeds to touch with great care, almost like one would touch a snowflake at first, then able to touch in more detail.
I won't do it unless you want a free drink.
>chuckles softly. His hand moved slowly over the foreign skin. It was hard, rough, tensed, perhaps not used to this kind of closeness. A pair of steel biceps.
Impressive definition, yes.
>gave a light touch following a protruding vein with his index and middle finger. His hands were now soft from the earlier water, giving a certain contrast to the skin he touched. Following that gentle touch, he then gripped harder to feel the worked muscles, both hands palpating. His eye also looked, moving down his arm like his hands, though the latter stopped at the forearm because touching his hands was already enough, it would be going too far.
(Hard hands, you can tell the effort in them.)
>rough, probably, with calluses, with scars surely from blacksmithing. Looking at someone could give many clues; just by seeing her, one already gets the idea that she's a warrior... Not exactly a specialization, but a warrior in general, someone skilled in combat. >at that, the woman's voice made him pull his hands away, disappointed, with an inverted U on his lips, however the next line seemed very strange to him. This thing was exactly a flirtation and it felt strange when someone did it with him; he often took his guard down. It was supposed to be him who did it.
That's cheating, you have an axe.
>said with his eye closed in an attempt to avoid eye contact, though he had noticed the dwarf's blush as much as his own dark face. Again, the interaction had caught him off guard, with his guard down. >Kilt then went back to his business of taking wood, there ending the conversation and physical interaction. The night cold was already rising from the ground, something that cooled the blood a bit.
(Alright. Women are quite a thing.)
>rubbed his hands to protect them from the cold, setting off to gather fallen wood, something easy because they were in the desert; here fallen wood dries very quickly and is useful from the very first moment. His mind, on the other hand, was wondering if maybe he shouldn't be interacting with this woman that way; he didn't want to break the team dynamic or have Mao keep an eye on him if he had something for the dwarf... But a man has to indulge his desires; he wanted to continue the game. >his hands, on the other side, told him not to get illusions with others, but nothing more.
The first Great Collapse. 7 years ago, in downtown New York City, a portal opened connecting to another world, the realm of the Beyond. After an intense flash, the city was plunged into darkness. In one night, New York was engulfed, destroyed, and rebuilt by the effects of the catastrophic connection to the other world.
From that other world emerged the beings of the Beyond, the "másallíneos," creatures mostly of indescribable origin and aberrant appearance. A massive number of them invaded the newly taken New York, many "másallíneos" transformed the city to their will, others obeyed their shapeless nature and generated violence, and finally, a large number survived the chaotic state that was the Jerusalem Plot.
The Jerusalem Plot was the name given to New York City, once the portal's fog was contained within a barrier. That limiter was born from the portal itself and contained the expansion of the other world onto Earth. It was in this environment that, day after day, newly conceived demons emerged from the contact between the worlds, a type of all-powerful and sentient existence that, after grouping together, became known as the Thirteen Kings. Thus, for two months, through the actions of the self-proclaimed rulers and the active protection of an enormous divine curse in the form of a maritime entity, the American government lost control over one of its most important cities.
Demigods, powerful beings born from the portal of the Beyond, pressured from the interior and exterior of the barrier to create an opening for dialogue in the Jerusalem Plot. Shortly after those two months of uncertainty surrounding all of New York, an official contact was made between the American Nation and the Abstract Realm of the Beyond, a conciliation. Under the Chrysler-Galadona treaty, the conflict with the forces of the incomprehensible was resolved, the sovereignty of the Thirteen Kings was dismissed, the shared state of New Jerusalem was created, and the foundations were laid for "másallíneo" and human coexistence. The barrier dissolved, forming a vortex of amalgamated fog, thus the name New Jerusalem was born.
The city of New Jerusalem originated as a combination of characteristics between the human world and the Beyond. Half of the humans engulfed by the portal reappeared miraculously in the new city, while the other half would appear periodically 3 years later. The beings of the Beyond assimilated the human way of life in the city as a rule to ensure their stay. In this way, a strange daily life emerged involving humans and monsters beyond comprehension. By integrating into the new nation, the "másallíneos" eventually gained citizenship rights and a moderately decent reputation. Every day, and in cooperation with the new and abstract intelligent beings, the human world recovered from that great imbalance. Although within New Jerusalem, the forces of the chaotic and the absurd remained active, attacking the city in unexpected and desperate ways. Even so, entities from the human esoteric world such as the Spiritual League and other organizations managed to keep the madness of the other world at bay and provided stability to the fantastic and grotesque city for three years. This was until, after a succession of unfortunate events, such as an arcane threatening factor, an overload of effort on human hope, the release of various unknowable powers from the Beyond, and a thirst for demonic self-discovery, a massive and catastrophic second Great Collapse was gestated almost by pure chance.
The second Great Collapse. 4 years ago, south of Manhattan Island, on the artificial island Pandora, known as the base of the Asylum Pandorum prison, a portal to a new dimension opened. Distinct from the Beyond and the human world in its entirety, the dimension with which contact was made was of such an incompatible degree that, a millionth of a second after the connection to the other world was established, the portal closed, unleashing an energy charge so potent that it destabilized the mystical infrastructure of New Jerusalem.
Capable of foreseeing the future, the invisible curse at the edge of the city, a high-degree enigma from the Beyond, used the force of a divine contract to keep the imminent deformation at bay, but it was not enough. For 20 seconds, the city was enveloped in complete calm, until in an instant, all of New Jerusalem was divided in two. Each part of New Jerusalem immediately replicated, thus giving the vision of two parallel cities, seen as through the edge of a mirror. That scenario was witnessed for only a few seconds until the city underwent the same partitioning phenomenon again and again, at increasingly smaller intervals of time. Exponentially, fractal chaos took over the city, duplicating dimensions, dividing time, and brushing against the abstract limits of what is permissible in reality.
The emergency gave rise to a new type of barrier against the mystical fog, of infinite extent, total light absorption, and intangible. This and other feats by the Spiritual League and other organizations, such as rescuing the vast majority of living creatures in New Jerusalem, provided relief in recovering the city or preventing a greater tragedy that would this time fall upon the world. Even so, it was during this short period of infinite barriers that the city was considered lost. Fractional Nod, an abstract wasteland of wandering march that only concentrated disaster.
Miraculously, almost a month after the Second Collapse, the fundamental constants returned to their initial values and the city was rebuilt. This time giving rise to the Sacred Land of Nod, a double parallel city composed of Nod Thrillfair and Nod Issel-Sarexuglactrella. The new city encompasses duality and the indistinct within the identical. It is from this land that the world still feels the effects of chaos, for better or for worse, recovering millions of humans, or having to deal with infinite races from Others, other worlds, and time.
>>1486 → >Sally's lifeless arms couldn't properly adjust to the descent of her torso, because after piercing through them, Hannah had destroyed a significant portion of her supporting muscles. A metallic formation of blood immediately knocked Hannah to the ground. It was a shield hard enough to recklessly bend Hannah's superhuman body with a single, powerful impact. It was Mercy, who had finally reacted to Hannah's psychotic actions and swiftly subdued her. But no matter how reinforced her shield was or how hard she slammed Hannah into the ground, cracking the floor and walls instantly upon impact, her weapon would never be strong enough to block even remotely one of Hannah's cuts or her divine arsenal. (Mercy) WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! WHY, HANNAH?! WHY THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT?! HANNAH!!! Hannah...-! Oh God... Ah... Aa-ah... No way... (Hannah) God... have mercy on me. Oh, Lord. Forgive me... Forgive me, Lord. I feel such despair right now... Mercy. >Hannah Cade Andronicus murdered Sally on a Sunday during a scheduled visit, mere hours after the complete disappearance of Doxia and Bagdeleyne Von Batenkaitos in Nod. She made no attempt to rise, though she could have defeated Mercy instantly using her abilities; instead, Hannah collapsed to the floor, weeping and lamenting. She begged God over and over again, in a way that made you remember how she originally obtained her weapon through one of the many visions you accessed many hours ago. You didn't have to watch any longer as Mercy struggled to process what had just happened—because the moment Hannah surrendered herself to her God, you blinked once more, out of this repeatable scene. (...) (Jack) PAQUITO?! I can't believe it's you! And here, in Boston! >You returned to the hours before Hannah arrived at the hospital, during the time she met with Jack in Boston. The hole wasn't growing larger with each visit, but it clearly seemed that its depth and the number of victims down there had only increased. Hannah and Jack's conversation must have ended; she was slightly distanced from him, yet still watching the strangely unforeseen arrival of an alien whom Jack immediately recognized as his best friend from the past. It wasn't just impossible that this wasn't the Paquito from his story—this being seemed outright fake, and everything around Jack felt highly unbelievable. Witnessing such nonsense, even as a third-party observer, right after experiencing such an intense vision as the murder of an innocent girl by Hannah, felt like a cruel joke. You could almost lose yourself, forget that you possess a body capable of traveling throughout Boston or even beyond it into Nod to uncover more about Hannah or the Vatican—but what brought you back to reality was the presence of a third person in this entire conversation. Excluding Paquito, there was a visitor you'd never seen before in any of these fragmented stories from Hannah's life, appearing precisely when she put on an immaculate, regal suit and began acting far more frivolously than usual. That vision of Hannah wasn't merely sharing space with the other Hannah; judging by how her cloak behaved, she could phase through the floor and possessed the same level of intangibility as you across the repetition of these situations. The first thing this Hannah did upon noticing your presence—once she convinced herself she needed to speak to you—was apologize for your own decision. (Hannah*) I'm sorry, but all the energy in this universe isn't all the energy in the human world, nor is it all the energy in the Afterlife Realm, and certainly not even close to all the energy from the place you originally came from. Maybe, if you had absorbed all of it, you could've achieved something far more transcendent than me. But right now, the omnipotence you possess is exactly the same omnipotence I possess—one bound to the infinite iteration of this world. >She precisely defines what you've been experiencing over the last 6 hours: a semi-random appearance of events, from which you can find little to no information to free yourself from this state of observation. Based on how Hannah describes herself, you can figure out a couple of things. She is just like you in this mode of witnessing the past—unable to interfere or make her voice heard anywhere except your ears. Likewise, she's so tied to Hannah that she remains close to her, allowing the succession of random events to continue. You can't harm her in any way—she passes through you and you through her whenever you try to interact more with the objects around you. However, trying to touch this well-dressed Hannah should be far less complicated than trying to touch Paquito or somehow hit Hayes. Unlike you, who can move at inhuman speeds and directions just by thinking, the divine Hannah projected near you does nothing but passively orbit the nun Hannah currently in the alien's situation.
(Jack) Boston, Boston! Sorry, I can't stop saying it. Paquito, you have no idea how long I've waited for your return! Ever since I was a kid... I knew one day we'd have our adventures again, just like in the old days. (Paquito) Yeah, it's me, Jack. Now give me the access code to Gemini's bank funds. I'll make sure to run your agency with zero transparency, just like you always wanted. (Jack) Absolutely. You know I'd do anything for a friend.
>>1487 → >The atmosphere changed instantly. This time you could forget about the nonsense the boss of Gemini might or might not say, because once again you found yourself watching Hannah, who had the mission of climbing yet another small mountain. Your view of this excerpt from the story was the primary way of perceiving—nothing more than a pair of motionless eyes following Hannah everywhere. Only due to the peripheral presence of a second entity in this place did you begin to materialize part of your body into this observational plane. And not just your body: as soon as you recognized the presence of the Hannah wielding the sword and bearing the aspect of royalty, you too began generating a layer, a crown, and attire suited to your manner of ruling the newly explored infinite. The divine-appearing Hannah explains in detail the situation binding both of you. She recounts everything about the role that this supremely powerful entity plays in this plane of futile intervention upon the world. (Hannah*) I observe everything—the past, present, and future of a specific creature—throughout eternity, from every possible perspective, even if I must occupy Planck-length differences across this vast, expansive universe. Hannah’s prayers, for instance, serve as shortcuts, allowing me to revisit a moment. You’ve been using them repeatedly. But don’t get used to them, because when Hannah’s life ends, you’ll have to eternally witness the life of Doxiagropobilicus, then the life of LeSueur, every inhabitant of Nod, every inhabitant of Boston, of Earth, and every living being that existed in the past, exists in the present, and will exist in the future. >Not exactly uplifting news. You’ve had more than enough of Hannah for a very long time now, having explored her fighting, living, and interacting with others extensively. What the Hannah before you explains summarizes certain specific flickers—like the multiple appearances you experienced when she held the lamb, or the silent ones she made while walking through the hospital corridor, determined in her next course of action. Aside from moments when Hannah prayed to God, you likely had to shift to instances too mundane to matter during observation. From the moment she was born until her death, someone else confirming that you’ll remain here for eternity, shifting positions to witness the same things—every time Hannah took a shit or masturbated—is neither news nor a task anyone would willingly accept as an omnipresent God. Following the explanation of Trinitarian Hannah, the Hannah both of you are observing finally reaches her destination hours after twilight. At the lonely peak of a mountain once used to protect livestock and serve as a prayer site, a black sword is embedded in the earth, ready for Hannah to claim it immediately. Trinitarian Hannah reveals one more aspect—perhaps the most important since she indirectly pronounced your sentence—a hidden ability to interfere in events. Minutes pass between Hannah finding the weapon and being attacked by her own mind, forcing her to repeatedly beg for forgiveness. (Hannah*) You will be like them and think like them, because every part makes up God. The same God who can do anything, because, every billions of iterations a statistical error appears that I can only define as a miracle. Move an electron, disintegrate a particle, vary the speed of an object by 0.000001% and even… (Hannah) Oh, lord. Forgive me. Forgive me. Lord, forgive me. I will do terrible things in your name… I can't. I can't! (Hannah*) This is the infinite power you sought. It works infinitely to strike any fool with lightning, moves atom by atom to part a sea in your name, or assembles your perfect offspring in some mother's womb. It is entirely up to you, as long as you can bear it, unlike everyone else… >The Hannah in appearance approached her kneeling self on the ground before her divine weapon. No matter how much time passed from when she got her weapon until she fought with you, her crying and lamentations are heard the same both upon obtaining her ultimate weapon, and after eliminating Sally and repenting in mortification. It was after Hannah explained to you the application of miracles on this plane that she also knelt down to the level of her other self and showing an expression more distinct than the inexpressiveness that characterizes her, Hannah brought one of her fingers to wipe away the tears of her younger counterpart herself. She held the drop of water for a second in her hands, so that to an instant viewer it must have looked like a bit of dew remaining levitating from Hannah's actions, until finally Trinitarian Hannah closed her fingers and simply disintegrated the small concentration of water forever. In the way she explained it, miracles like those in Abrahamic myths, as well as the most recent ones achieved by Hannah, must be an application of infinite steps one after another measured over hundreds and millions of people to coincide in the probabilistic error of an action. It is absurd, typical of an absurd power that has no limits but mental resilience itself. As a being of infinite life you could be compatible with the nature of this place, occupying everything, at all times, without realizing the changes only after visiting other eternities and changing your mind based on the experiences of others.
>>1488 → >But no matter how the Trinity Hannah makes it seem, orchestrating a miracle for you is just as likely as expecting Batenkaitos to seek mental help or Bagoriceny to stop killing innocent animals based on their appearance—simply impossible. She makes sure to emphasize this once again, stressing the overwhelming boredom you started to feel after watching Hannah do a lot of nothing for a long time. (Hannah*) But you won't be able to do it. You won't be able to do anything. I've spent millions, and millions, and millions of eternities witnessing other lives. You need an iron will to achieve something like that—an divine will. (...) Listen, right now I'm a Hannah with 824 years of memories. Why? That sword doesn't just cut the past or future by chasing your target's projection across ridiculously distant positions—it also affects the memories of its wielder the moment you start swinging it. I can project an innocent Hannah whenever I want, just as easily as I can project a Hannah who's lived decillions of years mechanically performing her duties. She only needs to hold the sword in her hands, and I—I—and I, I and only I will take care of the rest. >It was the Trinity Hannah herself who chose to reveal her true nature, after they'd jumped for the sixteenth time into the moment when Olivia calls out to Hannah, only for Hannah to completely ignore her. The real-looking Hannah continues explaining about the sword that suddenly appeared in Hannah's hands, pointing at it, assigning it properties equally absurd yet effectively applicable in reality. Finally, you're shown the mechanism behind Hannah's instability in combat, the reason why in none of her memories or experiences did she ever firmly grip the sword, but instead let it float mere centimeters or millimeters away from her hand. The Hannah standing before you decides when to switch places within the mind of the Hannah facing Olivia, and precisely when it's best to do so in order not to excessively alter the future or past based on her memories. After all, she is the sword's bearer—only she can fully touch it and use its power to cut memories. As for you, you've never had the chance to snatch the weapon away and deprive her of her powers or the decisions she made ahead of time. She approached you, close enough that you could feel her cloak brush against your clothes, turning invulnerability and intangibility back into nothing. And when she did, she displayed an attitude different from her usual impassiveness—whether in reality or in the observational plane. (Hannah*) Sacrificing my mind eternally, erasing my memories one by one, whenever fate decides. If it means ensuring a demon like you never involves itself with a human again, it's a price worth paying. Sally's death was inevitable. >She acts with arrogance when she has to reveal the full extent of her plan—one she has followed both in the past and in the future, systematically replacing herself to achieve her confrontation with you. The Hannah standing before you is precisely why, no matter what, Sally was certain she would die, regardless of whether she had ever known Hannah until the moment it happened. Again, they return from the Vatican to the interior of the hospital, taking a position outside the room where events unfold, yet still able to hear Sally's and Mercy's voices behind the door arguing over the wound you caused. The impeccably dressed Hannah who confronted you paces back and forth as she prepares to enter the room once more, precisely at the moment events unfold, only to point at the sword that will flawlessly emerge from Sally's body in an instant. She gives you the answer to the failed contract you attempted long ago—because she is their God in this human world, not the entire world, and she is herself both in the past and in the future, if you can align with the moment her memories are rewritten. Apparently, this Hannah, before her counterpart murdered Sally, tries to warn you about whether or not you can use the shortcut of prayers integrated into this observation plane's deep and indecipherable matrix. Finishing her gesture toward the sword, Hannah Trinitaria attempts to vanish, becoming increasingly transparent, (Sally) (...) But, I trust that everything will be alright. (Hannah) Keep that attitude until the end. (Hannah*) I know your exit from this place is predetermined. I created this sword. I am the connection between God, my sword, and myself. But you cannot break me—because after this, Hannah Cade Andronicus will never again direct a prayer to God.
Eje is the name that normality gives to the plane that inhabits. The records describe an environment of active settlements and functional infrastructure built upon the remains of an ancient Earth. The terrain and history manifest as an immense superposition of strata where each neo-Victorian or medieval structure integrates over the preexisting ones, forming a landscape populated by dungeons, territorial dragons and fantastic fauna.
The geography operates under the concept of Closed Horizon, a perpetual cycle where advancing always to the east successively takes you from the domain of normality toward the minimal territories, then to the massive ones, and finally back to the point of origin. This linear configuration has eliminated the concept of the west; moving in that direction means accessing directly the region called Double East. Trade routes and expeditionary paths cross these territorial bands crossing the boundaries of each physical scale.
The Hex is the constitutive fiber and the energetic fabric that sustains society, law and transportation. Although its technical principles are imprecise, there are 355 fundamental spells that allow will to impose itself over matter immediately. The urban infrastructure uses this energy to maintain operational the industrial mechanisms, the long-range communication systems and the basic services of the population centers.
The presence of the normals is limited by the Saturation Gradient, a natural phenomenon where the excess of Hex to the east disintegrates the organism and its absence to the double east causes cognitive paralysis. Under this restriction operates the Queen, the only authentic and eternal human who exercises administrative and symbolic command of the plane. Her incomplete memories about the origin world define the legal and religious frameworks that govern the eighty-eight million inhabitants.
At the extreme scales of the cycle coexist the Massive and the Diminutive. To the east, the ten thousand realms of the Diminutive sustain a ritualized war that releases hostile invocations toward the central settlements. Toward the double east, the Massive traverse the world as tectonic forces ignoring the minor civilizations. The geopolitical order depends on individuals loyal to the crown who, through maximum class spells, manage these forces to feed the technical network of normality.
Outside the urban nuclei, the periphery hosts communities of Non-Normals, such as anthropomorphic bananas, human-featured dinosaurs and talking animals. These societies, which include the rigid simian nations and the mimetic reptilian ones, operate autonomously with their own laws and social structures. The settlements in these areas integrate into the functional landscape sharing the space with the fantastic fauna and the active phenomena of the Hex.
Sheet >Name >Appearance >About you
You have 40 points to distribute between: Physical Affinity: Energetic Affinity: Spiritual Affinity: Command Affinity: Psychic Affinity: Dark Affinity:
>>3357 → >Seeing Monica laugh in that clumsy way and then declare herself human with all those strange immunities leaves me in a second of silence.
— (Inflammable but harmless? Immune to magic and also to people of color? This is very strange, her behavior is too innocent… or too artificial. Is she really what she says she is?)
— I understand… Monica. You don't seem like a threat. Just… be more careful next time with the kitchen
>I respond with a calm voice, trying to sound reassuring. >Suddenly the cookies turn into that fire monster and it starts to laugh and threaten. I instinctively take a step back and raise my weapon pointing at the entity.
— (What...? This has gone from strange to dangerous) Watch out!
>I shout more to alert the others than for anything else. >When I hear Grok's voice from outside warning about the trees falling I feel a chill. I turn my head for a moment towards the entrance.
— (Now something is coming from the forest? A beast? We can't split up like this… but we can't ignore this either) Grok! Keep your position outside! There's a fire monster inside here!
>I look again at Monica and then at the fire monster, tightening my grip on my weapon.
— Sir Eshrec, take Pipino out of here if necessary. Monica… if you're Inflammable, maybe you can step back. I'll take care of this
>I take a step forward, trying to keep my voice firm despite the nerves.
— You! Lord of Fire… Are you really going to attack over burned cookies? If you want revenge, at least explain yourself before launching flames everywhere.
>I prepare to attack or dodge, feeling my heart pounding fast but trying to keep my mind as clear as possible.
— (This doesn't look good… between the monster inside and whatever is coming from the forest… we're going to have to act quickly)
>I try to focus and use the luminiscence spell to get more information on what's approaching. I also use the freeze spell to test the fire monster first before attacking head-on.
>>3359 → You saw water dripping from María's forehead, and if you looked closely, her face had a tomato-like complexion. She didn't confirm it, but didn't deny either that one of her possible intentions was to keep an eye on her teacher, and your curiosity about the proportions of her flesh masses was merely the final blow that made the poor girl look away for a moment. She fixed her eyes on the wall to one side, then shifted her gaze to a bookshelf on the other, back and forth, until she brought her doll close to her ear and suddenly lowered her face. Now Punpun was in front of you, shaking his head, then bowing it so you'd pet him—but it only lasted a few seconds. Once the girl recovered, she had no awareness of what had just happened, dismissed it, and kept explaining.
(...)
After revealing your logic, you've noticed several things: María's shining eyes and radiant smile didn't fade even when you emphasized how terrible her teacher was at preserving clues. She didn't react at all when you lifted her, merely pointing her index finger to the left—the direction you should follow to reach Belladanza.
Your singing echoed throughout Céfiro. Who cares if you risk slipping on puddles or catching a cold from the harsh rain? It's worth it! Your goal of registering the largest breasts in the kingdom is an achievement you must savor before anyone else. Not even María's almost negligible weight could slow you down—you're very strong... or perhaps the girl is just extremely light. The good thing is, there's nobody on the streets. Most likely, passersby have returned home or are sheltered under the roofs of nearby shops, so you can rest assured you won't bump into anyone.
After nearly a minute, María finally shows a gesture—by which I mean she merely blinked—one that, had it happened earlier, wouldn't have left the girl teary-eyed now.
(María) That reminds me of those ancient, fascinating stories based on a world before the Axis! We used to read them in...! Punpun? (Punpun) ... (María) Whaaat?! Don't be like that, Punpun! (...) Don't listen to him, Eärendyl—I suspect those same policemen too! One of them called me crazy when I offered to help with the case. Wait, didn't I say something else? Ignoring the crazy lady who was slow to respond, you could see in the distance an abnormal giant blocking the path—there was no other way to go. A bit closer to you was a car, one with flashing red and blue lights on top that might've been about to Eärendyl you, but luckily, it was motionless.
? | Anchor SUCCESS
Your legs were rebelling against you, refusing to obey, not to mention your arms, fingers, neck... you could barely breathe or keep holding the girl, though the latter was starting to hurt from staying in the same position.
(María) W-We didn't steal anything! (?) You committed a crime... and it was stealing my heart~!
Dark hair, golden eyes, and a uniform dominated by sea-colored tones. She had gotten out of the car way too cheerful, her gaze locked onto the girl. Bouncing closer and closer with little jumps, her final leap came with arms wide open toward María, who was now at the mercy of the police—they'd taken her from you, at least Punpun didn't fall off your shoulder.
To the woman, it was as if you didn't exist. You could see the crazy lady being used like a stuffed teddy bear.
(María) Let go of me! (?) I saw you helping Professor Risa in several cases! In the newspapers you look so serious... but up close you're so sweet~! (María) Waaah!
Someone else got out of the car—a young man wearing almost the same outfit, brown eyes, and hair just as dark as the woman's, though for some reason longer than hers. He pulled the officer—and María—back toward the car.
(?) Aww... Marco, don't be like that. (Marco) You nearly got sued last time because of this, boss. Let her go, poor thing, she's all soaked. (María) I'm not some poor thing! I'm María José VII! (Marco) Huh... who? (María) Ma-rí-a Jo-Sé Sép-ti-ma! (Chief) She's Risa's student, I've missed her so much! Haven't seen her in the news for weeks... Oh, did you get sick? (María) They won't let me do anything! (Marco) Ah right, the kid who stands out at that academy. (María) Not a kid! De-tec-ti-ve! Even Punpun knows that! (Chief and Marco) Punpun?
You had faded into the background, alone, standing in the rain instead of inside the warm car. At least you weren't completely ignored—the giant was the only one who hadn't stopped staring at you since the woman started causing a scene. He didn't seem able to speak, nor showed any sign of moving. Meanwhile, you were finally free.
(Marco) Hey! You! Are you friends with this little girl!? Come here!
>We weren't especially nutritious, it was just a sport. What good times.
The world is for the strong and the weak must obey, like the wind and the grass, when the wind blows the wind bends before it
>I briefly explain his view of the world, obviously he considers himself a "strong man" because he is free, he does what he wants, sleeps with whom he wants and doesn't answer to anyone, he is, in the end, a truly free man but a slave to his own impulses and human instincts
>He couldn't continue explaining his viewpoint because the poncho fell off his body leaving him in just underwear... what humiliation, now everyone knows that the proud, self-confident strong cowboy is just meat, although little or nothing may matter to him that people see his prominent bulge between his legs; it's not that he's exhibitionist but simply that he doesn't care how people see him, even he might see it as an opportunity, maybe a pretty monkey could like his corpulent, hairy and smelly body with cigar and powder
>And I who only wanted to make some friends with whom to share my secrets about the magic of other worlds.
Hey boy, wait a moment, it was just a joke a while ago, come please
>Blondie bent down to pick up his poncho and hat from the ground, put on the poncho while Option approached him and rolled in the dirty, dusty fabric, took off the dangling cigarette from his lip and handed it to the dark glasses guy in his hand
>They are led to a beautiful, huge and precious dining room, the music of that place could only be compared to the one you've already heard in the movies that play in the bars, those movies that mock the pomp and excesses of the elite that takes advantage of the humble and honest workers that Rubio constantly cheats, he couldn't care less, thief is a thief
>He also couldn't care about the gourmet food, yes, he saw how Rose ate the food properly and could follow her steps but again he didn't care how people saw him. While that fat slut was talking he took out a cigar from his poncho, yes, one of those handsome and delicious ones exported from Cuba that he kept for special occasions, he brought it to his lips and called fire with the tip of his finger and lit it, exhaled a cloud of smoke directly to the ceiling. He also didn't stop at smoking in that beautiful place, he grabbed a spoon and with that same one he ate loudly and spoonful by spoonful the slices of banana
>Don't forget to respond to the survey that has been left at each table.
>He looked at the survey, the one about the government system seemed strange to him, usually he would say that a capitalist anarchic free market but for strange that it may seem it wasn't there, so he went to the option that seemed most appropriate to him: the one of the law of the strongest
>Although something that he didn't like was the wanwanwanesa trying to mentally control her little Rose
>Rubio hit the exhibitionist on the butt and also gave her a delicious good squeeze of the right butt, he leaned his lips close to her ear, the stench of alcohol, tobacco and unbrushed teeth haunted her delicate nasal passages
Sweetheart, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't mentally control my wife, there shouldn't be discord among my women
>He let go of his wide backside before smoking more of his cigar
Let's see this, since we're going to tackle it next time, but right now I don't feel like reading so let's go with the scaling.
>Percentage The % of power he uses against those idiots will be irrelevant, I'll adjust it based on what's reasonable when it happens, but, given the data that they fought at 2 PM, and his peak is at 12 AM. Let's assume that, like Scanor, his power starts increasing at 6 AM and stops growing at 6 PM (not counting the power he can store like he does when fighting the Big Father), his peak is at 12 AM, i.e., 100%, to make things easier we assume his power increased by 1/6th every hour, and vice versa after 12 AM, so at 2 PM, his maximum power output would be around 66.7%.
There we have our base, now we have to guess the limits of his power.
Since he is the symbol of LAZ and replacement for All Might, this is the reference point.
>All Might's Power There are 3 points to scale All Might's strength, that + Ruler's declaration that at 12 AM All Right could rape all the perceptos (the inverse scaling of Wrath = or > Muscular will carry).
>All Might Chapter 1 I can make a tornado that broke the clouds, that they calculate from 25 or 800 Megatons up to 1 Gigaton, Mountain+ to Island, and it's All Might already carrying the wound for 5 years, there are no speed feats unless we say that at this point he was faster than light, which, no, kek.
But, he should be much faster than Deku 100% vs Overhaul, we can't pull numbers out of our ass using the manga later with Deku and Shigaraki as sub-relativists, but if we use the reference strength and how drastically it declined
>All Might USJ Where after having given the AFO to Deku he had already started to weaken exponentially. His speed is comfortably Mach 35 if not higher, up to around Mach 60-70 taking into account 100% Deku vs Overhaul (although this Deku's power was also increasing, his 100% at this moment is greater than if he had 100% in the first season), and even up to Mach 90, the last one is very trust me bro, but we take it anyway.
As for strength... I couldn't find calculations so without much on hand, I had to do the scaling myself.
And the only reference is when All Might sends the Nomu flying with the Plus Ultra that pierces and disperses a couple of clouds, let's see the first cloud.
We'll assume the cloud dispersed in around one second, it's a sunny day, so it looks like a cumulus if I'm not mistaken, we assume an average height of 1150 meters and density of 1300 meters, a viewing distance of around 20 kilometers that gives me this ugly number 1.256.637.061,435917295 and the cloud calculator from the battle wiki tells me the cloud would have around 167845.88 Tons.
Now we use an omnidirectional dispersion calculation, which I don't know if I did wrong but it gives us barely 2 kilotons, and that this All Might being weaker than the Kamino one is a no, so we get exquisite and go to analyze frame by frame, but in doing so I saw that, in effect, it lasts 24 frames for the dispersion so it's still one second, I checked other calculators and the calculation went back up to 5-6 kilotons, fuck you Horikoshi stop being consistent!!!!.
Anyway, regarding maximum strength, All Might doesn't vary much from here to the end, his average must be lower, let's say 1 Kiloton, lol.
And this with the anime, in the manga the Nomu barely flies 400 meters, the fucking sure didn't even leave the UA grounds, lol.
BUT, let's go with the problem and declaration of 300 hits vs 5 in his first, and 360 kilotons is inferior to the minimum estimated 25 megatons, so All Might had to hit it with even greater force.
So, I have to go to Deku, who with his greater valcul available when he breaks that robot in the test, being 76 kilotons, still gives us 5 megatons for Prime All Might, So, NO. The only way to give this some coherence is if this All Might has no more than 20 Megatons and his prime is over 800 Megatons, which anyway I wasn't going to use that value for the All Might chapter 1, but still, kek, that would tell us that in about a year and a half, All Might's strength reduced to half, if not more, since Plus Ultra was going more than his 100%, anyway, I give him 16 Megatons for a calculation I found so I don't complicate my life, kek
>All Might 3rd season/Kamino With the USA Smash he generates around 7 Kilotons. In speed we have his feats where being contained he was turbo-fucking Deku and Bakugo who should be above Deku in the Stein arc which went up to Mach 8, so minimum, contained, it would be like double, Mach 20-25, and at maximum we could go back to Mach 50, it fits a bit because after giving OFA to Deku his limit went from 3 hours to 1.5, more or less that his power reduces to half would be acceptable, at least for this shit I'm doing, as well as it would be comparable to AFO, who could react to Endeavor's attacks so in the Hypersonic range it's acceptable.
There's also the first movie which would fuck this version up a lot but I ignore it, kek.
But, on the other hand From, since going from 25 to 16 is a 36% reduction, let's say his speed was affected equally, so from Mach 90 at the USJ, in chapter 1 he should be around Mach 141.
So we go from Mach 141, 90, and 50. Mach 93.6
>Durability We assume the same as strength, maybe up to 50% or less because in MHA (and because I'm OP and I decide things now) the monkeys tend to have more durability than strength unless stated otherwise.
>Summary Anyway, in an ideal situation, a 100% All Might would have.
Going back to Deku vs Muscular, Deku was able to hit him with enough force to knock him out after he buffed up and got serious, being considerably stronger than his normal form which could exert a calculated tremor of 80 T of TNT, let's say triple, although he was already damaged by Deku's two previous Smashes, so just double, 160 T of TNT. That would fit with Deku's Smash, which quickly when he does one against Todoroki would enter city-block level, so the force against Muscular would be similar to that, seeing that from his Smashes in the test against Bakugo it was around 4 to 10 T of TNT, he could easily multiply his strength by 5 in just a few weeks passively, the same would apply, so averaging, if he could do a minimum of 250 T of TNT, which Muscular can tank even reducing the efficiency of his fibers, and then he surpasses it with his 1 million%, that Deku could easily hit with a force approximately a kiloton, which in summary, not only confirms these data, but for the Lucas camp he's a fucking beast at defeating Ira once he runs out of regen, damn.
I'm going off topic, at his 66.7% fighting at 2 PM, All Might would have, at most
From that, we can get speculative values when I feel like continuing, although even using just 1% of all this the power scale goes to hell when these kids who barely have been at it for 1 month could make him bleed, kek.
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Fruit ninja eolRoleroEthiopian Opal-3deea4No.2791es
>>2796 → >you draw your blade, in your hands it becomes a flash that reaches its targets before gravity even gains a nanometer of advantage on you >the fruits don't know they were hit, the gleam of the blade illuminates the mountaintop like a star-shaped lighthouse, which disappears the next instant. >you lower your weapon, and the attack squad is soon reduced to tiny cubes ready to be served, the bomb flew free, as the only remaining threat, and with decision, you do a backward jump with your leg extended to take care of it >your body does an ascending crescent kick, your instep launches like lightning onto the lightning rod and connects. >but something goes wrong... >at the slightest contact, the bomb cracks, releasing beams of light like a disco ball, and then it explodes with the blinding brightness of the sun. >since you are a robot, there is no immediate pain, but your indicators understand the violent pressure increase that pushes you powerfully against the ground, embedding you in the rock as if you were making snow angels >your kick resulted in a shot to the foot. Once the light stops blinding you, you discover that your attempts to avoid the gunpowder have left you covered in soot. "Hehehe..." >a laugh. Perhaps mocking, weak, and filtered through old age, breaks the peace of the valley Sensei: ohh, Lobelto-san... Don't you remember? You shouldn't hit the bombs >it was the sensei himself, the first fruit ninja Sensei: you're still a little green... but your skill with the sword is unmistakable... Cleo... That you are ready... >then, the sensei turns his back to you Sensei: follow me please >the sensei walked, and guided you through the city that had a fruit theme and stuff, until you reached the town hall, the origin of all evil, of control, of the Great Fruither, Big Brother Sensei: it's your moment young Fruit Ninja™... Are you ready to face the fruits and liberate the world? >wow, that was fast, as if the OP hadn't really thought anyone would send a piece to this, would you go face your destiny in the epic final battle? Or perhaps, you'd prefer to explore the city and waste time, because we like Dracula surfing
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