The Violent Melting Pot (23rd's Roleplay)


23rd
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(You're just going to ignore my post about West yelling at you? Can you rewrite that post and this time, don't ignore him? Then I'll post)

(In all fairness, you were super vague about who ran into you. There wasn't any basic description of the person, let alone a name.)

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West walked forward. He was beginning to think something was mentally wrong with this woman. "Does anyone care to acknowledge me? Seriously?" He then hastily added, "Do you know what is wrong with this person right here? Because I sure don't." He sees a commotion, and his compass vibrates in his pocket. He grabs it, and an arrow aims at the silver-clad knight. "That's rather odd, isn't it. I have this thing set for mechanical devices..." He begins to think. "This compass is either on the fritz, or something is very off about you."

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In the time Wright walked over to get a good look at the strange Victorian woman who had been responsible for such mad, chaotic action the Werepig she had attacked had begun limping away. A sickening squishy sound came from between the thing's shoulder blades with each lumbering lurch it took.. then it started coming back. The Werepig was going after West, who oh so casually strolled up to a group of strangers without any chalantness, any chalantness, at all! It naturally assumed the cartographer wouldn't notice it about to rip into his back.

 

-

 

Who was this guy? Wright didn't recognize him, he'd never seen him before, but West's cadence implied he was intimately familiar with everyone. Wright took a moment to stare, dumbfounded, at this bizarre behavior before deciding on what he wanted to say. "Who the hell are you? Are you high or somOH CHRIST BEHIND YOU!" Wright was very bad at the whole "saving people thing." I mean, he could do it, sure, but he couldn't do it gently. West's side smacked into the ground as Wright thew him, intercepting the Werepig's claw. Ow. Ow ow ow. Right in the abdomen. Was his skin broken? It wasn't. Well, small miracles and all that. Throwing one of his established cons out the window that would have interfered with the story anyways, Wright slammed his open palm into the injured Werepig's snout. It stumbled backwards, surprised. Open palm, stumble, open palm, stumble, open palm, stumble. PUNCH. The big hairy brute crumbled to the ground, passed out and bleeding.

 

Wright shook his wrist in frustration, wincing once. "Damn thing feels like punching rock." With that out of the way he turned back to look over at Elizabeth, Claudius and West. Time to get some unsatisfying answers that wouldn't help him in the long run. First, he pointed towards the poor cartographer who he shoved into the sod. "I don't know who the hell you are, but you need a better awareness of your surroundings!" With that out of the way, he shifted his attention to the woman who would have reminded him of a Bram Stroker character if he had been born 300 years later, or been more literate and cultured as opposed to being forced to work on a plantation for most of his known life. "As for y..", damn he felt exhausted. He didn't even have the energy to address the third stranger who had come out of nowhere, standing right next to him in some sort of grass armor and brandishing a makeshift axe. A large, sunburnt palm cradled his forehead for a moment as he took a moment to think. Too much had happened in the past several minutes to address at once. He really wished that stock of supplies he'd had before walking up was still with him. He could kill for a cup of hot tea right now.

 

(Don't worry, there'll be a new con that fits. Not being able to punch things in the face but once a day would make for a boring character considering he's not an outright pacifist.)

Edited by 23rd
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In the time Wright walked over to get a good look at the strange Victorian woman who had been responsible for such mad, chaotic action the Werepig she had attacked had begun limping away. A sickening squishy sound came from between the thing's shoulder blades with each lumbering lurch it took.. then it started coming back. The Werepig was going after West, who oh so casually strolled up to a group of strangers without any chalantness, any chalantness, at all! It naturally assumed the cartographer wouldn't notice it about to rip into his back.

 

-

 

Who was this guy? Wright didn't recognize him, he'd never seen him before, but West's cadence implied he was intimately familiar with everyone. Wright took a moment to stare, dumbfounded, at this bizarre behavior before deciding on what he wanted to say. "Who the hell are you? Are you high or somOH CHRIST BEHIND YOU!" Wright was very bad at the whole "saving people thing." I mean, hey could do it, sure, but he couldn't do it gently. West's side smacked into the ground as Wright thew him, intercepting the Werepig's claw. Ow. Ow ow ow. Right in the abdomen. Was his skin broken? It wasn't. Well, small miracles and all that. Throwing one of his established cons out the window that would have interfered with the story anyways, Wright slammed his open palm into the injured Werepig's snout. It stumbled backwards, surprised. Open palm, stumble, open palm, stumble, open palm, stumble. PUNCH. The big hairy brute crumbled to the ground, passed out and bleeding.

 

Wright shook his wrist in frustration, wincing once. "Damn thing feels like punching rock." With that out of the way he turned back to look over at Elizabeth, Claudius and West. Time to get some unsatisfying answers that wouldn't help him in the long run. First, he pointed towards the poor cartographer who he shoved into the sod. "I don't know who the hell you are, but you need a better awareness of your surroundings!" With that out of the way, he shifted his attention to the woman who would have reminded him of a Bram Stroker character if he had been born 300 years later, or been more literate and cultured as opposed to being forced to work on a plantation for most of his known life. "As for y..", damn he felt exhausted. A large, sunburnt palm cradled his forehead for a moment as he took a moment to think. Too much had happened in the past several minutes to address at once. He really wished that stock of supplies he'd had before walking up was still with him. He could kill for a cup of hot tea right now.

 

(Don't worry, there'll be a new con that fits. Not being able to punch things in the face but once a day would make for a boring character considering he's not an outright pacifist.)

(What where'd I go?)

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Too much had happened in the past several minutes to address at once.

(Wright's so burnt on everything happening around him that he hasn't even noticed the people in front of his face that haven't been punching other things in the face. I should have said something like "He didn't even have the energy to address the strange tribal man standing next to him", granted.

 

EDIT: Yo dawg I heard you like edits so I edited this post to let you know I edited a post.)

Edited by 23rd
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(Wright's so burnt on everything happening around him that he hasn't even noticed the people in front of his face that haven't been punching other things in the face. I should have said something like "He didn't even have the energy to address the strange tribal man standing next to him", granted.)

(Okay, as long as I'm there. Still ganging up on the one that "Mr Cogs" and "Victorian monster/cannibal" are hitting.)

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(BAAAAACK! Here's an app/list of Ghost Velage's new attributes. Everything I didn't post about just stays the same as human Velage.

Appearance: The same, but transparent.

Perks:

Pros:

Psychonaut: Velage can go into the minds of others, and act as a voice inside their head in order to drive them to insanity. As an alternative, he can scream at the top of his ectoplasmic lungs, disctracting them.

Splitting Images: If Velage gets cut clean in half, or shredded into pieces, those pieces will float in the air in relatively the same spot they would be normally and still work as part of his body. However, this drains energy at an alarming rate, and he needs to be healed in order to live.

Rot Eater: Instead of eating normally, Velage can take the energy out of living things to keep him stable. Though, he considers taking energy from living things to be immoral, so he only drains energy out of corpses, making them rot faster.

Cons:

It's Trying To Communicate: Velage's ghost can't be seen or heard unless it's the night of a full moon. It can still interact with the physical world, however.)

Edited by KidneyBeanBoy
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(I love the pros, but can I offer an alternative con to what you have now? The way you have it seems a bit cartoonish, if you don't mind me saying so.

 

It's Trying To Communicate: Velage's ghost can't be seen or heard unless it's the night of a full moon. It can still interact with the physical world, something that lets it find interesting ways to relay messages when it needs to.

 

Just think, in addition to all those creepy messages you could leave scrawled around you could be doing things like propping up macabre scenes of corpses in lifelike positions or leaving footprints in the dirt to let us know what's up ahead via horror movie craziness. Plus the next night will still be a full moon, so you'd have one more night of "regular" communication.)

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(After some thought, Celevoir wouldn't see the machinations under the armor, Blew. Instead, she would be seeing you as you were when alive while wearing that same armor. Pretty much seeing what you were before the epically-drastic change of becoming somewhat mechanical. It's the same with the werepig, Celevoir saw the pigman it used to be before the change. Celevoir would probably be the only one of the group that would see Velage as fully-alive instead of as a ghost.)

 

Significantly larger than a fully-armored warhorse, probably stronger than one as well, yet more easily frightened than a newborn kitten. That's the sentence that best fitted the large birdbrain at the moment, who was finally calming down from the sudden summoning of wind blasts she made. Looking down at the furred ball of knocked-out blackness on the ground, she cautiously gave the large bundle of fur a poke with the tip of a foreleaf. She wasn't sure what to expect, but when nothing seemed to happen, she relaxed...only slightly.

 

Then she saw the only familiar thing in this odd world, or at least somewhat familiar, with that strange black arm on her. Floating over toward the one real girl in the group, Celevoir gave a small chirp as she gently poked Elizabeth in the black shoulder out of curiosity. The bird hadn't seen the claw on that arm yet, though...

 

(Sorry, burned out a lot of energy with this post, not much for thinking...back to bed for my butt...)

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EDIT: (btw, 23rd, when are you going to edit the main post? I mean you haven't even added MY character yet.)

(I don't know what you're talking about spirit. They've been there the whole time! ..what? What do you mean I just edited them in now, after reading this post? I don't have to take this. This is my roleplay thread, and I won't be slandered no matter how true the slander is! That's what I said to that guy who accused me of filling water balloons with hot sauce and that's what I'm saying here!)

 

(Should I jump in now? Seems like a good time.)

(Sounds good to me. Just remember that it's currently day, so your full moon ability won't kick in at this exact moment. You'll also be posting after Tes from now on.)

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