Academia de villanos: CandystopiaKumiko##eULHjoLegrandite-309917No.7038es
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if you are reading this, it is already too late to regret it
a new villain academy rises on an artificial island at point nemo, the furthest place from earth
here lies Candystopia Academy, a villain academy made entirely of sweets and treats
who else could be behind this than its director and founder? none other than Catherine Sugarcoat, the villain also known as Lady Diabetes, solely responsible for an increase in childhood obesity and diabetes, entire governments have bowed before her endless cakes and candies.
now it is your turn to become a great villain too, and who knows? maybe help the director with her plan to crush the Alls' country with a giant pie someday
>name >appearance >age >background >quirk >stats You have 2 base points and 10 points to distribute
Strength: increases the faces of your damage multiplier die
Defense: determines your HP
HP = Defense x10 +100
Agility: Determines how many times you can attack per turn, one attack per point.
Combat System: you attack as many times as your agility. For each attack you roll 1d20 for damage, a multiplier die with as many faces as strength points you have, and 1d2 for accuracy. If the accuracy die rolls 1, the attack misses, if it rolls 2 it hits. The damage is the result of your damage die multiplied by the multiplier.
for example, a character with 4 strength and 3 agility would roll:
1d20 = 19 1d4 = 2 1d2 = 1
1d20 = 4 1d4 = 2 1d2 = 2
1d20 = 11 1d4 = 4 1d2 = 2
you can combine the faces of your damage and multiplier dice to roll more powerful attacks, but you risk missing the attack. For example, the previous character could roll:
1d60 = 2 1d12 = 5 1d2 = 2
you can also pay with one of your attacks for another to hit guaranteed, but you can only do this with a single attack per turn, and if the attack is the sum of several, you must pay the same number of attacks you used to make it. For example, a character with 8 agility and 2 strength could do this:
"The president of what?, I'm talking about Tim Burton's movie, don't you know good cinema?"
>Shall I show them to you?
"No thanks, if I wanted to see rotten teeth I'd go visit my grandma. Now come here, damn it--BITCH"
https://youtu.be/ZFsd1XQWvzI▶The zombie uses her own head as a projectile and breaks his whole face, making him fall and roll on the ice floor until he's in a comically characteristic pose.
"Ugh... did you get his license plate?..."
His limbs are at weird angles and his tentacles grope the floor for support, until the brunette frees herself and talks to him, making him regain all his strength to automatically get up.
"Psst, punching bag?, looks like you don't know strategy, sweetie, didn't you hear the tank tactic? If you take all the hits, your opponent will eventually get tired and victory will be yours, I saw it on The Simpsons."
The zombie smelled bad, what a surprise, a dead person smelled dead.
"Sniff sniff Oh damn, it's true, can't you use deodorant or something, little dead girl?"
Anyway, there were things to do, places to go, and the black girl now had a weapon, very true to her skin color.
"Hey, hey, wait a minute! Shit, why don't we go where we need to go first and then kill ourselves? Besides, she's already dead, I don't think you can kill her twice, you know? You can dismember her later and it's..."
As she speaks, she extends an appendage to lower the brunette's weapon.
"Also, I don't think the diabetes villain would like dead bodies in her yard, let's save our necks and not act like children, does anyone object to staying alive everyone?" She asks, "I'm Leroy, by the way, and you, little lump of brown sugar?"
>>7288 → >how the hell do you miss 6 attacks in a row? I feel nostalgic
It's called aura. Listen up, rookies, the real fight starts before the bell even rings! The smell will disorient the enemy and stop them from getting close! If you don't believe me, watch this!
>He approaches the squid kid and removes the head he threw from his body. He squeezes it tightly against his neck and twists it from side to side to make sure it's on properly. Once it's all there, he starts striking various poses, showcasing his villainous aura.
You'll serve as a test subject, now check this out.
>He walks away from the group to approach the redhead. Standing in front of him, he scoops up as much ice cream as he can, making a ball the size of his head, and swallows it in one gulp. Preparing for the next part of his demonstration, he puffs out his cheeks, tightens his stomach, and then releases a lethal amount of methane gas in a heart-shaped burp. The stench expelled would hit the redhead's olfactory sensors with such force that he would end up falling to the ground from the sheer smell.
Oh no! A weapon! How scary! What are you gonna do? Shoot me? Let's see, let's see, let's see! Try to kill the undead! Let's see, let's see, let's see! KYAJAJAJAJA!!
>Squidward is correct, a weapon poses no danger to the zombie. In fact, the threat was so minimal that Zombossa started playing with the barrel of the pistol. Hitting it multiple times while laughing out loud at how useless shooting her would be. She already proved she can survive without a head, a couple of bullets are nothing compared to that.
<Kimberly but I don't think now is a good time to flirt
>meanwhile, the green guy approaches Zombossa
<green guy if those attacks had been directed by the tentacle guy to hurt you, you would be dead², what would happen if they burned your body or sliced you up? don't get too confident
...
>eventually both and Lucien enter the building >there are soda fountains (literally) and ornamental candy plants >they are greeted by gingerbread men who guide them to the auditorium >the principal should arrive soon
SECUNDARIA HISPA: NEW RUMBLE PT 3: RUMBLE POR SIEMPREOPArsenopyrite-6c9425No.3364es
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https://youtu.be/BWY_eSrtXX0?si=gT6BnsKcJRMgmMa6▶Y who would have imagined. The third one arrived. They say the third is the one to be defeated. They say... But here, we don't stop until we're number one. A lot of crap happened last time. Tough guys, crazy powers, and some trauma. This path to the top can be cool, or it can totally stink. Who knows... we'll have to find out. So go ahead, open your notepad, write your turn, and accompany your character in this desperate fight
>>6641 → Your insults and provocations were lost in the air like dust. Paolo entered the room with a changed chip. Now he was going to speak with a blade, and not of paper, but of sharp neon. kek
The knife wavered before you, marking the line drawn by your opponent. He challenged you to cross it, and you, already accustomed to crossing any line, lowered your body. The force of your muscles preparing for the lunge opened holes beneath your feet, which joined into a small crater once you launched yourself forward.
The wind spread like your wings, everything not tied to the ground shot out behind you.
You were a bullet devouring distance in the blink of an eye. An anti-tank. But though the earth trembled with your advance, not a hair on Paolo's head moved.
You made a swift exchange, yielding the lead to your jacket in a blinding throw. The thug reacted as if by reflex, his hand descended in a diagonal so swift and perfect it seemed magnetized. The neon imprinted its advance with its celestial light, which illuminated the fabric before spreading throughout it in less than a second, incinerating it like paper in the sun.
But it was a feint. Your shoe relieved your jacket, and it was all that was reflected in the enemy's glasses before the impact that combined all the movement into an omnidirectional blizzard—which did move a hair—
But the collision was strange. Not as solid as a face, not as weak as a neck. You felt pressure increase around your foot, as if the shoe were shrinking in real-time. Your foot trembled in the struggle, you could neither advance nor retract it.
Looking closer, it was firmly locked between the thug's fingers, who raised his off-hand just an instant before the impact. And then, he twisted it.
Quick, for him, like turning a doorknob abruptly, for you, it was as if two knives entered both your ankles at once. Your bones cracked like a branch as your foot turned completely, now facing the same direction as your back.
<Ryu 90%
Paolo gave your foot a shove to push you away. You detached from the ground half a meter, but didn't lose your balance. You planted both feet back on the ground, though they faced opposite directions which doesn't hurt because No More Heroes and you destroyed the half meter by suddenly launching your arm straight at your enemy.
Paolo reacted. He raised the knife, but by the way he held it, it only grazed you with the handle. The blow was enough to leave a bruise and slightly deflect the trajectory, but not to cause a parry or truly injure you.
Your hands grab the thug's hair, and you yank him off the ground like a carrot. Through the light showing through his glasses, you can see his eyes roll up for a moment as you close your hand, compressing the wind between your fingers with a burst. >Paolo "Again with this...?" – he muttered to himself, in that tone we use when analyzing situations–
<Alright, now.
They locked eyes.
<Stay still.
"..."
He shrugged. And your knuckles invaded his face. The crack echoed through the entire room, the chandelier fell, the walls cracked.
<Paolo 90%
You pulled back your fist, then threw it forward again—your punch buried into his face with increased force, as if the last one had been mere practice. The thunderous impact shattered every window in the house, in the entire block.
<Paolo: 85%
Another. One more. Your fist struck again with a titanic collision. Like a personal train running over a suicide victim, you felt Paolo’s facial flesh mold around your hand, yielding to let your fist pass through. Muscles softening, flesh crushing—and that sweet sensation when the vibrations—turned sound by contact—of that CRACK tell you that you’ve broken something, compensating for the exponential increase in strength.
<Paolo 80%
But the impact came afterward. The energy transferred to the criminal, and he went flying. A strand of hair remained in your hand, as the shockwave of wind wreaked havoc. The room collapsed completely, walls falling away, replaced by dust, and outside, car alarms blared across the street from the sheer force of your punch.
Yet there was no moment to rest. Dust is usually used for dramatic effect, but the smart ones exploit it. The lights from the knife, still floating in the air, slightly blurred by the thick cloud of dust blocking your view of the yard—where you were practically already standing—suddenly reactivated.
You heard something like a whistle—the kind an airplane makes—close to your ear. You managed to track it with your vision. It was the neon blade being launched.
It grazed your face, matching the haircut, making you lose a chunk of hair on the side Ryu degradé kek before it buried into the ground and vanished.
Then, Paolo returned. Walking through the dust, nose crooked and bleeding, brandishing the knife.
"You fight like a woman... not that I care..."
Behind him, countless lights flashed through the haze, as if he had turned on the stadium lights of a baseball field. Blue dots identical to the one that had just missed you by mere centimeters. Floating blades.
"...they all end the same..."
The criminal tapped the base of his knife’s hilt, and every neon light shot toward you—a rain of stabbing blades leaving glowing trails.
>>6701 → As it concerns us This was the last battle to win the war. Dimitri looked at you with the disdain deserved by all those not protected under the equality of the red flag... but you ignored him, like you ignore all politics in this country, and walked past him.
Dimitri let out a few small laughs, and turned with some interest to watch you make the bartender tremble.
>Bartender "A-ah, Dimitri, he's coming this way..."
As you approached, he stepped back, hands raised in fear and the desire to create more distance. But by the time you reached the bar, his back had already hit the wall. Your hand landed on the wood and the fat man lost his composure and balance with a scream.
"AAH!"
You jumped over the bar. Your feet touched the ground at the same time as the fat man's ass, who now saw you from below. You also ignored his pathetic display and went straight for the alcohol, which lined the walls in its transparent form, your rage manifesting in the atmosphere. The vodka in the bottles bubbled for an instant it just works before you exploded.
<RAHHHHHH!
"Aahh!" - he raised his arms to defend his head -
You turned your fists into a rain, and your fists turned the bottles into another rain. The alcohol and glass exploded in unison from the rapid movement, like a single balloon filled with vodka and crystal splashing in all directions.
For you, it was like watching in slow motion, the liquid growing in the air like a puddle under a dripping faucet. You hit even faster, the shards of glass turned to dust, and the small bodies of alcohol, barely drops.
The glass stuck to your fingers, usually harder than granite. Because you hit too fast and too hard, or something. From these cuts, you managed to get the alcohol and poison of 29 into your system.
This is because... you hit so hard that... when your knuckles collided with the alcohol, they filtered into the small space between the shards and the cut they left, thus entering your blood and leaving you tipsy.
"Th-the drinks!"
Having decimated the vodka population, taking only one hostage. You raised the bottle, previously uncorked, and drank it down, like those fat guys who chug water, finishing the bottle. The attentive eye could see a swirl for the thousandth of a thousandth of a second it took you to drink it.
>Dimitri "Hmph. I see you liked the vodka."
30. You were now officially drunk. It would make the fight more fun. You were going to ring the bell for the first round.
You smashed the bottle against the wall, the glass spray made the bartender flinch. You then gave a sharp turn, releasing the sharp remnants of the bottle in a movement so strong that it shot out a burst of the glass you had in your hand. Accompanied, of course, by their respective trails of blood. The crystal fleet turned red like blown glass. Your blood evaporated like a memory, but the Soviet was unimpressed. You raised your hand and thumb in a shooting combo. The wrench broke the sound and intercepted the bottles in an instant. A chime. Sharp as only glass can be. And the mouth of the bottle exploded, increasing the ammunition by splitting it, and causing a deflection in the wrench.
A takeoff. The upward diagonal went straight towards the Soviet's gigantic shoulder like a heat-seeking missile. The metal was about to pierce his flesh when he moved a hand like Casillas in 2010 and caught your weapon between his index and thumb.
"You call this a wrench?" he asked, bringing it before his eyes. "It looks like it's for opening a little girl's diary."
The first attempt failed, but there was no time to waste. You shot another wrench, faster, stronger, at that very instant. The same one flew. It bounced off another piece of glass that was still halfway there, and jumped like a magnet straight towards the other wrench.
The jagged tips of the wrenches crossed in an instant. Sparks flew violently right before Dimitri's eyes - he didn't even blink - and ignited a fire that turned the wrench into a perfect thousand-degree knife.
Next instant. The sound of impaled flesh echoed. A clean, brutal cut straight to the neck. Not even Dimitri could remain indifferent. His eyes lowered to see his blood dripping from his prominent Adam's apple.
"..."
<Dimitri 90%
"..."
He looked up again and finally frowned.
<I came for your life.
"So be it..."
Dimitri copied your move. He shot your wrench from his thumb, and it, in an instant, collided with a hundred pieces of crystal that were about to hit him, making them explode into more harmless fragments before embedding itself in the floor.
"But everything you do... we can do better."
Dimitri reached into his huge pockets, and without much searching, pulled out, in one hand, a sickle... and in the other, a hammer.
"DIE, CAPITALIST PIG!"
The Soviet threw the sickle from his left hand horizontally, it spun as if looking to decapitate you, while the giant came behind with the hammer over his shoulder. He spun it between his fingers with the mastery that years give, and threw it at you with the combined power of effort and European steroids. The air vibrated, as the hammer entered a violent curve that sought to hit you in the ribs.
What moon would you be looking at? You, who already know the weight of failure, better keep silent.
Even if love escapes us, don't waste your tears.
At this end of the day, where you get along with the birds that fear the night.
Trapped between the beginning and the end of the journey,
you soak your pillow with a cry as ephemeral as foam.
I guess peace is that treasure we simply cannot reach,
barely a sip of water for an eternal thirst.
The heart you gave to violence hurts. I feel everything slipping away and burning.
What are these drops that overflowed from my eyes?
It is the flame of confusion, a white poison that clouds the air.
A dance of lights that surrounds us on both flanks.
We beckon with our hands for a tomorrow we know won't come,
in this cycle of compensations where only a funeral awaits us.
From the horizon, news travels a thousand leagues.
"Do you really think you can resist fate?"
What remained tied to the tip of that branch,
is the calm of one who sows a seed and sits down to wait.
Whose body is that lying fallen?
My own reason, wild, silences the mockery of others. Enough! Don't keep tearing at the wounds...
Do you hear that melody that breaks your throat every night?
If in the next life I must apologize for my arrogance, so be it.
"—Stop fighting, little one, and surrender to the eternal cycle—"
What moon would you be looking at? It's almost pathetic... to see my eyelids falter before reality.
Let's say goodbye now, and please, don't cry anymore. We are just changing form; it's time to shed the skin we know.
Let us witness this first act of the tragedy. Beyond the mountain, a thread of hope still glimmers.
What do we have left, besides never giving up?
It was I myself who started this fire in my chest. And even if they try tostop me,the current will keep flowing. My loyalty has deformed me, but I don't care about the pain.
Hey, jester! Your song is not music... it's just a lament.
Jujutsu Kaisen rol (meta)RoleroVariscite-060ec4No.6509es
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Meta thread for the Jujutsu Kaisen roleplay sheets I'll open in the coming days. Like tomorrow or the day after. Ask your questions, I'll nerf yours. General discussion of what's coming once I fill the slots. Here's the sheet: >Name Your name >Age Well, everyone starts at 15 >Nationality Doesn't matter, but somehow everyone speaks Japanese kek >Gender You know, male, female >History? If you want to detail it. The roleplay will already start at the sorcery school, so it would just be about how you discovered your powers, or if instead you don't have cursed energy and just have a lot of strength like Toji >Cursed Technique Your special ability, it can be a totally original one or one inherited from the series (as long as it's not infinity kek) Obviously you can't have Toji's heavenly restriction and a cursed technique, so you have to choose.
There will be no stats. We're going to play with pure d100 rolls, which I always found the most fun.
>>7302 → >watch it in one roleplay sitting, you son of a bitch "Waoh, I guess I gotta do it now"
>>7304 → Should we do it? I have no problem, just respond to Kyoto's last turn (the general) and we'll pretend you were always there.
Better to have all the assets together. Too bad the experiment failed, I liked the idea of the festival.
>>7306 → Keksito. Perfect then. I won't wait for you. We're similar anyway. Best of luck with whatever you have to do, little black boy, come back whenever you want and can.
>What do you say about Kyoto? He accepted his superiority.
>>7307 → >how the hell do you not finish a 9-episode series? Well, it disappointed me and I dropped it, kek
>If it's just going to be adventures where the circus background and characters don't matter much That was my idea, yes. Keksito.
>watching 3 episodes is more than enough for you I dropped it at episode 4, I think. The last one I saw was the baseball one. Then I didn't have the motivation to continue.
>then by all means you have to watch at least up to 8 along with several theory videos I was planning to finish the series someday... someday...
I guess I'm not the right person to handle that role, it wasn't my idea to make it lore-shit!
>When you see These days. I'll respond when Dante takes his turn so there are at least 3 of us, kek
>>10325 → >it disappointed me and I left her It deflated as it went on, so I don't blame you either
>It wasn't my idea to do lore shit! Putting lore in would imply there's a goal to reach and that kind of ending stuff doesn't go well with hisrol... Episode style would be best, although the concept of a "caricature episodic" roleplay works with practically anything, even a supermarket. Imagine something like a regular show where you go to get fish to restock and end up fighting Poseidon for some kek reasons
>so that we can be 3 With Kumiko and Amara it would already be 3, although well Amara didn't respond to what you said so... yep I said nothing
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
Cece's turn tomorrow. I got inspired kek >>1838 → >Looks like a Gerudo, or do all Gerudo look like Din? Secondly, we have to remember that Din shares a name with the primordial goddess from Zelda. So it comes from there. Same with Nayru and Farore.
Din gave the Gerudo their darkness.
>It's because in that game the star is Midna I know, and it's understandable, but at the same time it's, in part, a pity. I'm not saying it about the Zelda in that game, who we only see being solemn and such, but more about short-haired Alicia Ilia, she had so much potential. What a shame how they left her completely aside. She had the advantage of being a childhood friend and all little keks with that ending, she was totally devoted! But Link got bewitched by the damn dark world and abandoned her.
>A question capable of starting a war between two realms: Which do you prefer? Imp Midna or True Form Midna? Is there anyone who prefers the big form?
>Imp Midna full force, kek. Nintendo created a genre with her. I agree. It's impossible not to love her when you talk to her and she says "awgsgehw piiii" Kek that "piii" she said at the end with her sweet voice full of echo always liked me. And then the moan she made when you accelerated in wolf form. They knew what they were doing.
>Your impressions are making me want to play it again. But I can't, the backlog! The backlog! Little keks. It's crazy, the backlog just grows, and grows. It seems impossible to defeat! I almost give up.
>It's recommended to bump into her I did it, just to see her a couple of times. But it wasn't very useful to me honestly. Now I don't remember well if she dropped a potion once or if I'm imagining it, but that would be the only interesting thing. Well, and that after bumping into her a lot she started flying in a vacuum cleaner kek
>also hers, so you can steal from her, kek I always did it, Argensimio mode of Buenos Hambres, I didn't leave her a single cent. The worst part is that I didn't need it kek, I don't know how but most of the game I went with the rupees at max. >Surely many kids liked her attitude, they grew up, started drawing her, and that's when her fame solidified. She has that something that sparks a cute childish crush. I felt something similar when I was little towards some mean girls in cartoons; Maple wasn't mean-mean, but she was grumpy and haughty. That attracts too, kek. I get it, I get it.
>You'll have to wait for the Oracles to get remade so that, maybe, you can get some more interaction with her. Better make A Link To The Past more fun for me.
>Noooooo, you ruined one of my favorite races, I hate you! Little kek
>As a counter, I'll let you know that surely Saria turned into an ugly and short Kolog. Yeah, I had that in mind, little kek. If you recall, the Kokiri already become those since Wind Waker, although if I remember right they were still called Kokiri there. In fact, there's a theory that says they actually always looked like that, like leafs, but hid their appearance so Link would feel comfortable. To me it doesn't seem like that makes much sense because when you meet Mido as an adult and he doesn't recognize you he looked the same kek. But it's there, whoever wants to believe it is free.
What I will debate with you is the ugly part. My beautiful Saria would be a BEAUTIFUL Kolog.
>Do you know which Zeldas I have pending? The DS ones. I feel like downloading an emulator and giving them a try. Well go ahead, but know that, as far as I remember, they are those games that make the most of the DS. You'll have to assign a blow button, and I think it's played purely with the touch screen (but I'm speaking from hearing half-baked things a long time ago, things I don't remember well so take it with a grain of salt). Luckily for you, emulation of those games is already perfect. It's not that they are heavy, it's that I understand there were silly things where you couldn't progress without doing certain physical actions, like closing the console at a certain point. That can already be emulated like nothing.
>>1836 → >>1837 → The high ceiling, with golden engravings, sheltered you from the night in its luminous womb. Or rather, in the uterus, where art was gestated. Where the pieces that watched you were born, and which were once a fragment within a head.
Bodies surrounded you. Trapped on canvases, or constructed from plastic in the eternal silence of objectification. You respected, and imitated the quiet nature of those around you, and took those steps with the care that thieves would wish to have.
Naturally, you made no noise. The wings surrounding your ankle silenced your feet. It was like a killer pillow. Even if you wore heels, you would make no sound, your feet were gagged like the screams of the suffocated.
But that didn't remove the habit. The wings were new, the habits were old. Even if you didn't have the former, you would have the certainty that your cautious steps would have been lost among the notes of that piano struck with frenzy.
But perhaps, those of the others too. You looked back. Several times. And always the mannequin returned your gaze. Without eyes. Lifeless. Soulless. Still in its place as since it was brought.
Perhaps it was once used to try on certain clothes. Other times, to simulate a pose. It was manufactured to be, and never stop being. It couldn't follow you, perhaps that was the reason for your distrust? Things going against their nature are unsettling. There was, however—according to the various sporadic glances you gave it—nothing to indicate that this object was going to defy its reality. There were more real things to worry about.
Alice was one of them. Lost in the darkness. The darkness that fell in the painting could not help but remind you of her. You caressed the oil paint, your fingers felt the almost imperceptible wrinkles of the paint as you compared Alices.
The last thing you remembered of her was that golden hair. So yellow it was noticeable in the dense night, disappearing among the trees and the mist of the cursed forest. Her goodbye was laughter and her whereabouts became uncertain. Lost in the darkness... was she who you saw on the canvas. With yours, you could only imagine.
Hopefully, she didn't end up in the jaws of that monster that watched you in the darkness. That rotten beast, falling apart like a forbidden temple where no one should be. Those eyes pierced you with a coldness that the flat face of a mannequin could never achieve. For half a second, it paralyzed you in the way only the greatest of predators can.
You tried to take refuge in the distance of a step, and the wall behind you held you back as if it wanted you to face your fear with unusual malice... but that was enough for you to see that it was just a painting.
A stupid painting.
You breathed to recover. Your chest, racing, seemed to pump sweat instead of blood. Your forehead had enough icy drops to indicate cutting on the dotted line. It took an instant that you didn't waste in dedicating. You rebelled against your emotions and put one foot in front of the other to face the painting, which was as large as the head of the real beast. The one that could have dissolved you in acid with a single bite, reducing you to a memory that would soon be forgotten.
And you rebelled against its image. Before the newly nicknamed forbidden temple, you dared to step. Your silent sole crushed the canvas. Its surface sank slightly, flexible, but the paint itself cracked under your feet like glass does, and the brushstrokes began to crackle everywhere. Pieces of paint separated and fell, revealing the white canvas underneath. Like lines of light born from the blackness surrounding the animal, and tearing it as well as if it were harming it. Once you stepped off the plant, the ripping sound of tearing paper chased your foot as a hole the size of your shoe opened in the canvas. You saw your reinterpretation of the work, it was now as if your footsteps left a great spiderweb, as the canvas had cracked completely, not to mention there was now a large hole in the wolf's head.
The last column of that forbidden temple has collapsed.
With it, the last thing distracting you from the desperate melody also fell. You followed the trail of music like snakes that writhe, enchanted by certain notes from a certain instrument. You found the culprit, eager to kill the piano with every violent keystroke. His fingers crashed against the keys and the sound exploded from the instrument like a shriek. A translation of the pain that reflected his face, but which was otherwise mute.
Confidence has led many to the grave, but suspicion drove you. A motor of careful movements, which you used to advance with the utmost stealth that haste allows until you found yourself on the other side.
The glass under the light, otherwise transparent, reflected you minimally. Your eyes soon ignored your translucent, perplexed face to allow you to admire the product of your desire. Standing upside down on a diagonal, supported by an acrylic stand resembling a Greek iota.
You let out a bit of life in a half-breath, but your hands rushed to prevent its escape. But not the fright that accompanied it. You turned quickly, and found that the music that didn't stop behind you hadn't lied. Cosimo was still at the piano, with that desperation that proved almost contagious.
You ran the couple of meters separating you from the display case, crushing your counselor, stealthy suspicion, on the way to cling to that stand like insects that died in the yard by sticking to the lamps. Your fingers, feeling the glass to know it in an emotional blindness, felt the cold of distance in every centimeter of its surface. It was real, being close made it more obvious. It was Napoleon, and between you and him was a solid barrier that reminded you of his existence, leaving the imprints of your sweaty hands for a brief second after each touch.
It seemed firm, and although you also saw a small lock on the right in the middle of the glass, you ignored it, for reasons you perhaps couldn't even recognize at that moment, and started shaking the display case.
https://youtu.be/8fcy2X06VH4?t=78▶ Your hands accompanied the pianist's in a desperate rhythm. You moved your hands as you would with a vending machine that gives you nothing. But it didn't budge an inch. One would quickly understand that the display case was fixed to the floor, and was perhaps as hard as it. Your chest quickened, and you signaled your lungs like an orchestra conductor to join in the desperation. You let out gasps that you were just starting to hide in droves, your gaze abruptly left the glass, and your scan of the place was like that of a headbanging musician.
You looked here, canvas. You looked there. Wall. You looked. Mannequins. You looked. You looked. You looked. Nothing. You looked...
There. A fragile-looking vase diagonally to your right, right in front of something covered by a tablecloth. You snatched the urn from the floor, heard a small sound inside, but ignored it. You lifted it over your head, and threw the container with all your body's strength.
The impact wasn't long in coming. The characteristic crash of hollow porcelain shattering filled the room... as the urn broke into pieces, and fell without even marking the display case.
https://youtu.be/HQj78oXGrhw▶ It happened at the same time. At the moment of impact, a discordant note. Or several at once, burst in, and broke Cosimo's song with their formless screech.
If hearing is the first thing that alerts us to danger, at that moment, that blow so... badly struck amidst perfection... followed by the silence of the culprits, could have alerted us.
And it would have been right.
At that instant. Cosimo turned towards you, and although that angry frown already showed obvious fury, you could somehow feel, in those eyes, the purest desire to harm you've ever felt.
The eyes in which you were trapped expanded, and your silhouette in the irises was consumed by the black pit of the widened pupils, which were now touching the white of the sclera, revealed up to the limit to which only the greatest surprise can lead us.
He held that gaze for the miserable second that the silence lasted. After that, his eyebrows descended to the level of the calm already shared with the rest of his face. The corners of his lips curved upward in a nearly imperceptible way. A smile as fine as the legs of a spider, with which he deigned to stand up.
>Cosimo "Ahh..." -he adjusted his tie, then let his hands drop to his sides, taking a small moment of silence more to look at you better with slight satisfaction transmitted in his drooping eyelids and that weak grace in his lips-
He extended his hands in front of his abdomen, with his fingers open and pointing towards you, following his habits of a good presenter.
"Welcome... princess."
The left hand went up to cover his heart, the other was extended to the side.
"My name is Cosimo..."
He inclined the upper body without breaking eye contact, and confirmed you in his reverence:
"I am at your service."
Cosimo straightened up and took a few steps closer. The soles of his shoes made an echo that occasionally replaced the total silence that filled the room.
"I notice something..."
His eyes dropped for an instant, leaving the sensation of the looks on your chest, which inflated and retracted to the rhythm of your gasps. Then he regained eye contact.
"...nervous."
He stopped his walk once the distance was optimal for conversation. And although he didn't seek to intimidate, he made you feel small with his one meter eighty and good posture. But with the relaxation well-placed in that look of fullness in times of calm, he bowed again. He extended his hand, giving you the bridge from which he would share his parsimony.
"Could you suggest sitting down and resting a bit before telling me what I can do for you?"
He assumed something had brought you to his space. And a bit further back there was a good place to sit. Perhaps you needed it.
Meanwhile, at your feet, something shone among the tiny fragments of destroyed urn.
Very small, none are tier swords btw. Get used to it because they're just the typical item container of a game kek 2/2
>>6978 → >A week ago I diverted some AIs and made a small manual spam application Can AIs be applied to, for example, a board for newfags? Let me explain, we attract new people and to give the site an initial boost there will be an AI in X role to OP turns of a moderate amount of characters or adapting to the player. A lure.
Also, every now and then on the amino subreddit they ask for a similar role-playing app after the app was deleted. If there's no problem, I'd like to promote Anatase a bit. >Does promoting it as an app change much? Nah, it's a strategy some apps implement and I never fully understood. >But I doubt I can promote it through Google, both because of restrictions and because the price is 4 times that of 4hojas. Generally, restrictions are exaggerated, even more so considering that Google doesn't have moderators who thoroughly review every app 24/7. There are handfuls of live stream apps that are practically Pornhub with extra steps.
From what I read, the Google registration costs 25 shekels, if you want I can help you, nigger. >If it depends on luck, I prefer to spam on TikTok or YouTube I don't know, many chans came and went without a trace and I don't know if we are the first to think about leaving things to chance. What I would like is to plan some scheme to see if a big YouTuber can indirectly promote us as happened with Dross and Chadou. With that it would explode with activity more than any advertising kek. >Since they are temporary boards, it depends on the BO to maintain a certain degree of non-spam activity or users on their own board so that it is not suspended or deleted from 1 to 3 months. Admin: I'm sorry nigger, but you didn't meet the monthly user requirement, your board will be recycled into /toddler/ :^)kek joking It's the most organic option, if we think on a large scale, sooner or later it would end up filled with "trash boards" without any regulation. Besides, it contributes to hubs promoting themselves.
Obviously, one would say the site comes first. You open a board and wait for the grass to grow. But in my experience as a social claustrophobe, it's not always like that.
Nobody remembers 4chan for its interface or for being a pioneer it literally copied everything from futabachan. It's ugly and slow, and to this day you can't post without filling out 25 captchas. But it was a hit because of its anonymity and the possibility of being a complete edgelord without facing social consequences.
BrChan stood out for being the only Portuguese chan where Spicy Candies were shared like there was no tomorrow
Voxed was the spiritual successor to Taringa. A place for Argentinians, by Argentinians.
Hispachan survived for years because it occupied a specific niche of being, in Zeta's words, the 4chan in Spanish.
Language filters people. Moderation filters people. The web format filters people. The presence or absence of anonymity filters people. Even users end up filtering people.
They all ended up developing a personality because they all had clear filters.
Today the internet is no longer fragmented into small communities. There's Gayddit, Discord, Twistter, Cancerbook, Tiktok, and hundreds of Chinese platforms where people already have friends, reputation, social routines, and followers.
Consequently, the question isn't, "Why should someone join Anata?"
The question is, "Why should someone temporarily abandon the places where they are already comfortable?"
That's the crux of the matter for Anata: what is its identity? Are we a chan? Are we some kind of Discord? Is it exclusively for role-playing or general interests? What audience are we targeting?
Because if the answer is "a little bit of everything," we run the risk of becoming nothing in particular.
I hate pessimistic people who get stuck in black and white, so I spit on my previous words and use Hispachan as an example again. Also Kyodo and projectZ.
Anata can be sold as everything to everyone. If you promote it on 4chan, sell it as the new Hispachan/BrChan/Voxed/Xchan Latino or even Russian. If you promote it on YouTube, dress it up as a new Amino or Discord. If you post it on Xvideos, lie and say it's the most paraphilic place on the internet.
not that extreme but I think it's a good port from which to set sail with the idea kek
Meaning, target all types of audiences in all types of formats, as the black guy above said.
>>7010 → >Can IAs be applied to, for example, a newbies' board?
Yes, I think I can make an implementation to activate the IA on certain posts and have it act as the thread OP. But, IAs are very one-dimensional. Like, if I make a roleplay of the old west, I probably end up making a couple of basic NPCs called Stranger 1, Stranger 2 without personality. And when the IA needs personality, the roleplay turns into one-on-one, like those chatbots. I came up with an idea and it's linking the IA to a roleplay thread, and a meta thread. And if a post says something like [Context Window - character], then I can give it a character sheet to interpret, and if it sends [Context Window - situation], I can order it to, for example, in the next turn use that character, or have that specific character die in the next turn. I see it better with this type of participation. Because, letting an IA run wild seems like it will end up being super boring.
>If there's no problem, I'd like to promote Anatase a bit.
I'm delighted! If it's for new players, I would open popular roles like the current Jujutsu one from Hisrol >Generally, restrictions are exaggerated I've found enough fake ads to believe it. >As I read, the Google register comes out 25 shelkes, if you want I can help you nigga. I left a donation section in info, I added it for translation costs (currently they reach around 3 dollars a month). Don't rush, in reality I won't start the app soon nigga, I have several ideas in mind that I haven't fully consolidated for the page itself. >You can promote us indirectly as with Dross and Chadou. With that it would explode in activity more than any advertisement kek Yes, that was my goal when I mentioned YouTube before kek
>>7011 → A few hours ago I was preparing the ground for my idea of temporary boards. What I did was add a Presentation/Description button, but I linked it to the New Thread/Post form, so that translation could be applied. Something that seemed great to me was being able to remove the dice, poll, and for the case of description, I removed files. Third pic, although it may not seem like it, the description is a post in itself and it gets dynamic translation applied.
Then, from that post I could upload without formatting, restricting name, capcode, sage and other options, I came up with a strange idea which is dividing Anatase into a Board view and a Scroll view. That in a thread, making images/videos/files fit phone screens, and the content and thread posts, turn into enriched descriptions/comments. Basically I think I can adapt the formats of shorts and tiktok to an imageboard environment and vice versa, changing the way I distribute the posts. A different interface from board/meta/6930 to scroll/meta/6930. And that important posts within a thread, also, through their number of views or replies/interactions (or marked by Mods/OP), could become scroll content. They could even serve as scroll content the links I just implemented Thinking about phone users who are more direct consumers, and not so much diving into a thread to read what it's about. I think I could move forward with this experiment after finishing the temporary boards.
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.
>While searching for firewood alongside Kilt, you also kept an eye out for plants, berries, anything that could be of use in the near future, managing to gather a quite fruitful harvest. >You soon strike up a conversation with Kilt, in which she tells you how she got her muscles. As soon as you learned she knew blacksmithing, you asked Kilt to teach you the trade.
Kilt: It's not that I'm very skilled at this, Victoria. For me, blacksmithing basically boils down to heating metal and shaping it with blows. However, I kept my father's notes. If you'd like, I can lend them to you and also teach you how to use the tools, if we ever get access to some.
>With Kilt's response about a possible future blacksmithing tutelage being positive, you proceed to inspect the woman's muscles, admiring her body toned by work, a physical power that many mages secretly admire and envy. >Soon Kilt would end the interaction, leaving a flirty proposal hanging in the air as she returned to work. Both of you then got down to business, looking for firewood. >Kilt used her axe to break fallen logs, which she then put in a bag, accumulating a good amount of firewood. For your part, you remained focused on collecting easy-to-carry branches, as well as gathering anything that could be used as an ingredient in the future.
Kilt: This is enough. Let's head back and hope that Vak and Mao have already started preparing dinner.
>With that said, Kilt and you head back to the camp, once again alert to any strange sounds and trying to avoid contact with the local fauna. After all, a snake bite was still dangerous. >Upon arriving at the camp, the first thing you noticed was Vak's naked body standing in front of the campfire. Several skewers were cooking around it. Mao was preparing skewers in front of the campfire while chatting with Vak.
Vak: Look who's finally back. We were already thinking of going to look for you. >The goblin had a cheerful tone in her voice, you could tell she was much more relaxed, her small green body was completely exposed, her nipples were quite pronounced with large areolas, there was a lot of hair in her crotch, the goblin didn't show the slightest bit of shame.
Kilt: Have some decency, dwarf, and put something on! What kind of impression are you going to give Victoria?.
>Kilt seemed somewhat annoyed by Vak's carefree attitude, who didn't pay much attention to her comrade's words, sitting down in front of the fire while taking a skewer.
Mao: Vak has always been like this, Kilt, don't expect her to start acting differently just because Victoria is with us.
>Mao then took two skewers from the campfire and stood up, approaching you with a calm smile on her face.
Mao: We still have a long way to go, so for now let's focus on resting.
>Mao then handed you the skewers and returned to the fire, Kilt and you approached, leaving the firewood a safe distance from the campfire. >You noticed Kilt taking off her leather armor with a sigh, Mao, on the other hand, wasn't wearing the hood that covered her face, revealing shiny brown hair and tanned skin.
Kilt: Pass me some malt, Mao, I feel like drinking something.
>The zumin nodded before tossing a canteen to the dwarf, which she caught with ease and proceeded to take a deep drink from.
Kilt: Delicious! Alright, I'm going to sleep a bit, remember, someone always has to be awake watching the fire.
>Kilt then quickly ate her skewer and took another swig from the malt canteen before tossing it to you and proceeding to lie down on one of the blankets spread on the sand. >Vak then gestured for you to come closer, a smile on her face as she took a bite of one of the skewers.
Vak: Come closer Victoria, let's drink some of that malt and enjoy the food, Mao, give me some bread please.
>Mao then took a piece of bread from her bag and approached Vak to hand it to her, then she approached you, handing you a piece as well.
The access door was a pathetic meter wide. The hall on the other side could house mountain ranges. Such a contradiction was so insignificant by the standards that no one bothered to comment on it.
The Vantablack Auction House had been open for over a century, though barely twenty years had passed since the city's founding. That contradiction cemented part of its prestige. Truly important businesses always ended up occupying spaces where time had given up behaving.
The metropolitan amphitheater was packed to the brim.
From magnates. Demigods. Collectors. Mercenaries. To dirty politicians.
Among the attendees, one could distinguish an archduchess with a fortune that monopolized entire countries. A human industrialist who had bought three small wars to display them on a private estate. A demigod specialized in acquiring famous people and turning them into action figures. And even a creature without a stable form that attended solely out of a masochistic fetish oriented towards bidding.
All of them, hidden by ceremonial masks, would be future participants in the most grotesque social Darwinism to date.
The district war. A formality with much literalness.
The war that was about to begin. The war that no one officially recognized. The war whose prize changed depending on who you asked.
A wish.
A kingdom.
Divinity.
Your own personal dimension!
An opportunity to rewrite history. Or simply an excuse for the most dangerous monsters on the planet to exterminate each other.
Aurelia Vantablack appeared on stage.
Across the stage, the woman paraded, bathed in golden light beams and cloaks made from the skin of exotic beasts. Aurelia smiled from ear to ear. Returning the cheers of the entire room.
"Welcome, hellouda, Bonjour, H̸̠͙̠̓́͐j̴̘͉͎̿́́f̸̝͔̫͊͝ù̴̙̺͓̔͊r̵̙̫̞͊̈́͝j̴͓͕̟͋̽e̴̫̠͕͆͛͠, Ni hao"
Her melodious voice intoxicated all five senses.
"Tonight we will not be auctioning relics, no sir"
She shook her head, finger raised.
"We will not be auctioning beasts"
She shook her head.
"We will not even be auctioning weapons"
Her bulging eyes darted across the stands.
"Tonight we will be auctioning your companions"
The silence was unanimous.
"And what a night awaits us! We bring forbidden specimens and at least two that constitute a flagrant violation of twenty-three international treaties!"
She tapped the floor once, twice, three times. Something seemed to click into place. An invisible gear completed its turn, and the memory surfaced.
"However, dear audience. First things first:"
>Name >House A poor devil or a high society citizen? >Race Human, demon, demigod, otherworlder, orboid. >History
>>6935 → It's okay, I understand, I come from hispa, your project seems interesting to me. You should promote it more in the refuge. For now, I see you are the only moderator here, right?
>>6935 → >by the way, I used Hannah as an NPC in a Discord roleplay, someday I'll take a screenshot and show it to you kek For a moment I read "character" and told myself "how boring to roleplay as Hanna!" then I read about the NPC and now it's "how scary to roleplay with Hannah..." >On that front, I doubt you'll have technical problems negrin Well, when OPmu came and posted 100 times I was tearing my hair out. It's quite a bit of trial and error kek
>did you have things left that you would have liked to explore more in fractella? I feel like I barely touched my main hero and heroine NPCs, Jack and Lauren. But it was complicated to delve into it considering the type of story I was managing for their characters. I doubt anything I did with them could have impacted Fran, Kibou, or Gospel. >I'm into time travel, immortality, April, and alternate worlds, things I'd tangentially like to delve into in this edition kek I'm glad I didn't fully define any of those topics kek >Meaning, the mist still makes you "pseudo-immortal" due to mystical reconfiguration, but there will be stages of the game where you won't have mist or the noddense law, or with enemies that can bypass divine contracts
I'm not worried. I deeply trust the intelligence stupidity and the skill clumsiness of my character, he gets out of anything Also, I'll reply tomorrow, I'm not very clear-headed
>>6936 → >It's okay, I understand. If you come from hispa, I find your project interesting. You should promote it more in the refuge. Welcome! I'm the only moderator for now. And we are still testing alongside the hisrol niggers. Later I'll stop by there for more feedback
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