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Posts posted by ChampionZero
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"Oh no you don't!" Yasha's hands rapidly reconfigured into a pair of heavy duty fans. He jumped back and the fans roared to life, blowing the toxic cloud away from himself and-- by extension-- Yumi. "I'm not very good at science or math, but I'm not dumb enough to come to a fight without a counter to my enemy's Quirk!" He straightened up and flashed a proud grin as his fans spun to a stop.
Seeing Seigi's attack on the breifcase, Yasha's attention was grabbed. There! His hands turned into circular saws and he lunged forward to grab Hemlock from a different angle than is classmate. If he could grab the teacher, then he could signal Yumi and they could blow this fight clean out of the water! -
"Whenever you're ready for me to fire, just give me the signal, but just remember I'll only be able to fire once before charging up again."
Yasha nodded, pounding a fist into his palm loudly. "Fortunately, making openings is the most common function of a power tool!" And with heavy, clanging footsteps, he began approaching Hemlock, slowly picking up speed as both of his hands morphed into chainsaws.
He was the tank, so preventing Hemlock from attacking Yumi was his primary task-- but he had the secondary task of signaling Yumi for her attack, and making an opening if necessary... and possible... and the best course of action.
Now if only I could remember what the signal was...
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Yasha was nervous, of course he was. He was also excited, and both of those emotions did what they always did-- blend together in his gut and come up out of him in the form of loudness.
"I'm so PUMPED FOR THIS!" He growled, making his whole body shake like an idling car as he shifted his weight back and forth, punching the air and blowing steam out of his nostrils.
Speaking of which, his costume was a bit of a no-brainer-- a suit of black and red body armor, seemingly designed to match his engine block of a head. Bulky, but it did a good job of accenting his already huge frame, making him seem even bigger than normal. His hands and head were the only exposed parts of him, which kept his Quirk onubstructed, but the bonus protection and intimidation was worth the extra weight.
Now to hope we can pull this off. I mean-- beating Hemlock isn't gonna be easy, but we're sure as hell gonna give it our best shot! -
Yasha ended up sitting on top of the desk next to Diana's, kicking his legs off the ground like a child and grinning ear-to-ear.
Not that he had ears.
Regardless, he was overjoyed (and somewhat nervous) that his entire team was girls, save for him. It made the prospect of fighting their teacher even more thrilling, in the sense that he might impress some of them if they won."So! We get to fight Ms. Hemlock. Any ideas on what we should look out for?" Yasha asked. "I mean, she is a Pro Hero, so she's probably going to be a lot better at fighting than us, so we really need a solid plan going in, right?" Yasha was raring to go already, but he remembered how he'd felt after the surprise test they gave them the first day, and didn't want to look that stupid in front of the whole class twice. That would just be embarrassing...
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Akuma gave Takao a once-over, then stood up and walked up to him. In part, he was unconsciously comparing their height-- Akuma was tall thanks to his dad's genetics, but he liked making sure people were aware of the disparity. On the other hand, he was really just getting a closer look at him. That spark in his eyes had gotten his attention, enough to tear him away from the wet co-eds in his vicinity. He wasn't entirely sure what Takao's deal was, but he intended to find out.
"Takao, eh? I'm Akuma." He offered a hand in greeting. "Welcome to hell, I guess. You some kind of electrical-type?" -
Yasha nodded pensively when he heard his name called, but was still thinking about the cute new girl and it took until after Dreadbolt had finished for him to fully process what had been said. He had to--
No, he GOT TO fight Hemlock.
His science teacher.
For grades.
Standing bolt upright from his seat, he planted his hands on the desk. "Wait. You mean to tell me we get to fight our teachers?! And we're being graded on how well we fight?! And we won't get in trouble if we punch them?!" He turned to the others in the class with his typical toothy smile. "GUYS, THIS IS GOING TO BE AWESOOOOOOOME!!" He roared, his voice rising to the roar of an active chainsaw, revving as his arms flexed in triumph.
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Akuma slapped Hane on the arm, and he briefly shot him an accompanying look of annoyance. The admonishment was silent, however, as he didn't say anything until he turned to the classmates playing cards at the table with him. "You know, it's a bit boring to be going for Old Maid of all games. You might as well be playing..." He glanced back to Miyu and Nanami, as if to make sure he hadn't missed anything good. "Go fish," He finished. "I'd suggest poker, but we're probably not allowed to gamble and," he glanced again. "Two of us are kinda naked already, which..." He tilted a hand back and forth ambiguously.
Keika's had it rough, Akuma thought, sitting back in his chair. I know the feeling. We're not the same, me and him, but we've got a lot in common. There's what you see on the surface: and then there's something just underneath, if you know how to get to it. But there's more to him than just a fragile veneer of attitude and a roiling ball of rage. He's got something else-- and I'm going to find out what it is. -
Yasha was a purveyor of three things, and three things only. Heroes, hydraulic presses crushing random objects, and pretty girls in uniforms. There was certainly no denying that the new girl was pretty. And in uniform. She was just plain cute from head to toe!
He did his best not to watch her walk past, but his eyes were basically in the sides of his head, so he couldn't help but see.
Once she was behind him, he turned back to the substitute. Dreadbolt had some serious style-- in fact, it looked like he had a head like Yasha's! Which was super cool, in his book, but it might just be a mask or a helmet or something-- some Pros did that.
"Mr Dreadbolt! I have a question!"
"Yes, metalhead? What is it??"
"Is that your actual head? And if so, how does a hero deal with having a scary head?" Yasha paused, then added, "I'm uh, asking for a friend."
"Of course it's my head. You think I'm gonna wear a mask indoors? That would be pretty lame. And these pearly whites help scare away villains!" Dreadbolt scratched at his chin, eyeing the rest of the students before whispering, "Who are you asking for? I could probably just talk to them directly."
Yasha, perhaps not realizing that them whispering doesn't make it harder for the others to hear, whispered back. "Oh, um. Myself."
"Oh. OHHHH! Don't worry, I'm sure a handsome devil like you is gonna slay!" He said, whispering as loudly as humanly possible.
Yasha "quietly" pumped his fist and then returned to paying attention as if the entire class hadn't just seen and heard that.
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Yasha sat next to Ben again on the way back. He was, in all honesty, disappointed. They'd been told they were going to the beach-- it turned out to be a cleanup project, which they did not forewarn them about. Then, something went wrong and they didn't even get to finish the cleanup. It was getting frustrating, all this runaround. What had even happened? He'd barely had time to help Kio when they'd called them back, and he didn't see anything go wrong. He was positive he was missing something-- and he was also positive he was going to figure it out in the middle of the night when he was trying to sleep.
He took a few deep breaths and decided not to think about it.
"Hey O'Hara. Dig up anything cool back there? I saw you working on a TV."
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@Saiba Aisu I'd like to have at least three (3) before starting, but I'd be willing to set a tentative upper limit of ten (10), on the off-chance we get that much interest.
In Oakshade, bugs come in many shapes and sizes. Civilized, intelligent bugs will usually stand upright and walk on two feet, while feral bugs typically crawl about on many legs like animals. There are noteworthy exceptions, but it serves as a general rule.
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Standing amidst the aftermath of the fight, the Tyrant raised one fist overhead like a boxer. Inside the mech's cockpit, Kansuke's smile had never been wider-- he was finally getting somewhere.
No man stands taller than the last man standing.
Back in the classroom, Kansuke tried his best to shake off the feeling of dismemberment that disconnecting from the Tyrant had given him. He'd been hesitant-- unwilling, almost-- to detach himself once he'd gotten a taste of what the Tyrant could do.
But the mech was damaged, and he needed to get back to class. The phantom pain returned long before he got there, and as the adrenaline rush from the battle faded, so did the dull ache of his bruised ribs.
"So, anyone know where those two messed up?"
Kansuke figured it wasn't his place to answer, and stayed quiet. But he definitely needed to work on not getting hit so much, or else get the Tyrannous hooked up with better armor. In a street fight, he was used to tanking punches from his opponents, and had a tendency to punch above his weight-- he'd picked the Tyrannous for precisely that reason: the mech had a lot of firepower, but that was its only advantage. He had to compensate with skill, and the simulator had only taught him how to handle the controls. He had to do better.
He had to be better.
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On 9/22/2020 at 12:40 AM, Crow said:Hollow Knight, huh? I'll see what I can draw.
That sounds promising. Welcome aboard!
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The Tyrant had to serpentine to avoid the next volley. Kansuke hadn't noticed because they'd alternated shoulders-- EACH pod contained two volleys. Then, adding to the chaos, he heard the hissing behind him and switched to his rear cameras-- artillery batteries? Come off it!
With a growl that echoed in his cockpit, he forced himself to focus. His vision flickered through the various viewpoints on his mech.
"Pay attention to my surroundings. Done..." His vision exploded into a faceted, compound-eye view of everything around him. 2,160-degree vision. Total awareness.
"...and done."
The Tyrant sidestepped the artillery shells at the last moment, without turning to face the batteries. Instead, it pointed with both arms at the approaching recons. The railgun mounted on one of them fired, and the shot blew through the recon mech with gratuitous effect. The other arm cranked out a storm of bullets compared to the smaller mech's drizzel, chewing it apart as it got in range.
"No time for you, lightweights." Kansuke blinked away the damage warnings-- he'd taken a fair amount of fire from the recon mechs. He'd have to be faster next time.
The Tyrant turned to face the batteries and sprinted to get into range. They were better suited for long distances, but not for accuracy. Good. One clean hit would take him out for sure. As its missile pods flipped back up and the payloads primed, the chaingun peppered the cannon's hulls with rapid-fire, confirming what Kansuke had already assumed-- that armor was going to need the incendiary treatment.
And once he had a good shot and a window between theirs, The Tyrant stopped running let the missiles fly all at once, in two condensed spreads.
"EAT NAPALM, YA CHOFFERS!" -
"Thanks. I'll take it from here." Yasha planted his feet and let fly-- the hose worked like a charm, blasting all kinds of gunk and dirt off the pipe, as well as the grate overtop of it. It even loosened up the trash caught in the grate and let it-- along with a rush of scummy water, flow back out-- double points!
After a few minutes of pressure washing the drain, he heard a familiar voice calling him from the main group. "Hey, Yokuna, can you come help me out with this?"
"Huh? Was that Kio?" The other group was kind of far, but from here he was pretty sure Kio was facing him. His opinion of his classmate was still a bit mixed so far, but he wasn't asking rudely. Maybe he needed something cut into more manageable pieces, or just a heavier object picked up. Reverting his hands-- the pipe was as clean as it was going to get by now-- he glanced back at Konpaku. "Kio needs my help-- I'll be right back, OK?" Without waiting for an answer, he started jogging over to the rest of the group, beelining for Kio. -
As the recon mechs' volley came down, the Tyrant leapt forward to avoid the volley. The mech rocked and shook from the ensuing explosions-- taking a few direct hits in the process. They weren't as powerful as his, and he was still in fighting shape, but there was no time to catch his breath.
What the teacher said was true, the HYD-Tyrannos was designed with an almost bull-headed focus on firepower, but it was otherwise average-- baseline in every other field of performance. This was because Kansuke believed in two things when it came to combat: power, in as great a concentration as you could muster, and skill.
And in In a pinch, one of the two could slide.
These little recon mechs were designed to be lightweight, fast, and able to lay down suppressive fire if they were being chased-- all advantages when they were doing reconnaissance. But they weren't made for a head-to-head fight with a Mecha designed for combat-- lightweight meant thinner armor and lower-caliber weapons. They couldn't tank a hit from heavy weaponry, and they couldn't use any themselves. The missiles were their biggest advantage, and they could only hold so many without weighing themselves down... which meant two of them were fresh out of their strongest weapons-- and only one of them had any missiles left.
The Tyrant's missile pods rolled back, its arm-mounted chaingun revving up and firing on the advancing scout mecha-- better to take it out while he could, or that last volley of missiles would be an issue later. His enemy's rounds slashed and pierced through the uppermost layers of his armor, sparks flying, but his hit harder-- punching through ablatives and internal components, trailing sparks as they came out the other side, chewing it to pieces as they closed in on one another.
That's three down. Two more, and they're both out of heavies. I, on the other hand...
His missile pods reared up again, ready to fire, and he took aim with his chaingun.
I'm just getting warmed up!
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Higher beings, these words are for you alone.
Pass beneath the shadow of The Great Tree and be beholden to our laws.
For here stands the Kingdom of Oakshade.
Built in the embrace of The Great Tree, witness to our glory.
Domain of the Ebon Lady, our Mother, Queen, and Goddess.I've been really into Hollow Knight lately (and to a lesser extent Dark Souls but not as much) so I've decided I want to run a game in a Kingdom of my own devising. If you have not played or are otherwise unfamiliar with Hollow Knight, it's a Soulslike Metroidvania set in the ruins of an underground kingdom of bug people. Pretty basic, but I thought I'd give it my own spin.
- Any questions you have, I'll do my best to answer.
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As the battlefield's transformations began, Kansuke activated his bracelet. It took a few moments, but eventually the hulking form of the HYD-Tyrannos crashed down behind him with a sound like a battleship being folded in half. It was just as he'd seen it before-- all hard angles and sharp lines, snow-white armor and magenta patterns not unlike his opponents' paint jobs. On one arm, a railgun. On the other, a chaingun. Mounted on its back, a set of missile pods. It was a walking arsenal.
The Mecha knelt, its cockpit opening up, and offered its colossal hand to Kansuke. The way it was moving was strange to him, but unsurprising-- like he'd expected it to do so.
"Alright, let's do it." He laughed, stepping up onto the mecha's palm. The Tyrannos lifted its hand to its cockpit and Kansuke stepped inside.
He'd used the simulator-- he knew what the inside of the mech would be like before he even stepped into it. He stepped onto the platform in the middle and the spinal rig descended from the ceiling on a multi-jointed mechanical arm. He turned around and strapped himself in, feeling little sparks and jolts as the neural connectors interfaced with his new implants. And then he felt it-- or rather, he stopped feeling that dull, phantom ache that had pervaded his senses since the implants were put in-- the distant memory of a missing limb vanishing as it found its way back to his body. He felt...
"Fuckin' GREAT!" He roared, and the Tyrant stood tall, ready to fight.
Upon getting the 30-second notice, the Tyrant lunged in, getting within weapon range and taking cover.
But why wait for them to get started?Step One: Assess the situation. Enemy targets have the high ground. All recon units, equipped with guided missiles. Best not to let them get a volley off-- blow them up first.
The Tyrant's missile pods reared up from behind and pointed towards his enemies. Swiping his hands across the virtual display in front of him, he selected each one's target and directed them to land at an even spread across his enemies. He knew these units had jump jets, so if they activated mid-volley they might try to dodge. Too wide a spread and there would be gaps. Too tight, and they'd all land in one spot, or worse, collide.
All of this data flowed through him as easily as his own blood, and he used it with as much thought in the matter. "Now fire!" He shouted, and the nervous signal pulsed through the machine around him, launching his barrage even as he readied his railgun-- he'd need precision and stopping power if any of them made it out of the initial attack.
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Kane, rather than leap into action alongside his partner, took a single look at the bear and busted out into howling laughter. Knees buckling, doubled over, snorting and giggling like a child and desperately gasping for breath. Occasionally, attempting to steady himself only to dissolve into more idiotic giggling.
Throughout this, he managed to squeeze out a brief, but giggle-infested statement of disbelief. "WHA-HA-HAAAAAT? THIS is what did ALL THIS? OH MY GOD, what a pathetic fucking excuse for a demon! IMAGINE GETTING YOUR SHIT KICKED IN-- BY A GODDAMN BEAR!" So intense was Kane's laughing fit that he looked like he couldn't breathe for a solid minute, much less stand up. "Ho-ho-holy SHIT, DUDE." -
Yasha was filling his bag with his bare hands, looking thoroughly disgusted despite his lack of expressive features. But when Konpaku asked, he turned to look and cringed visibly. "You know these are my hands, right? That's like asking me to scrape it off with my fingernails." He shuddered. "Besides, I don't know how to do a power scrubber-- I can only create certain tools if I know how they work."
Yasha had to admit he was out of his comfort zone-- cleaning up wasn't an angle of hero work he considered. Sure, maybe digging or cutting through urban rubble to save trapped civilians. He'd learned how to make a power-hose to deal with fires, but he didn't come up with anything to clean stuff with.
...
"WAIT A MINUTE!" He clanked a hand to his forehead. "I'm stupid!"
Clasping his wrists, the two transformed into a singular implement-- a large tank, an intake hose, and a long nozzle. "I can use this!" He made to grab the intake hose, forgetting he had no hands now. He looked up at Konpaku.
"I hate to be the "a little help?" guy, but... a little help?" he asked, sheepishly. -
Kansuke almost bolted out of his seat. Finally, a chance to get into the pilot seat. A chance to do something. He'd gone under the knife of a possibly crazy professor, gotten his ass kicked by a cat-lady, he'd taken an orange to the face during the food fight earlier and been outperformed in an obstacle course by a BIRD. He'd been itching for this since he missed his chance on the Finback, maybe longer, but now it was time to--
"I will."
Goddammit!
"Ma'am!" He raised his hand. "I'd like to volunteer as well. Not all of us got to test our mettle on the Finback, after all."
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Yasha swallowed his abject disappointment and resigned himself to a sigh. Obviously he didn't mind being paired up with Konpaku, but the fact that he was still taking crap for that farse of an exam on the first day was exhausting. That and Epicenter seemed dedicated to blindsiding her students with frightening consistency-- the surprise test on the first day, and now baiting them into a "field trip" that turned out to be trash cleanup. He'd have come to do community service if they'd told him what it was, but the fact that they let them think it was actually a beach trip was downright cruel.
My hopes... my dreams... washed away like writing in the sand...
He straightened up. Whining was pointless-- it was going to take a lot of hard work to clean this beach, and his Quirk wasn't going to be much help: which meant they had to get started right away.
"Understood, ma'am. We'll get this done quickly and thoroughly." He bowed, then began making his way over to where the storm drain was without waiting for Konpaku.
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Kansuke didn't answer.
It wasn't that he didn't have a reply, per se. He had a response, to be sure, but he was positive of two things-- one, the teacher would give him flak for having high ideals or complex thoughts if he shared his answer. Two, his answer had some serious overlap with one that had been said almost right away by the girl the teacher had called creepy, and she'd point that out too.
Mech combat meant being a soldier-- but being a soldier meant something to the people who did it, and something different to every soldier. But to the people who gave soldiers their orders, the ordinary footsoldier was a disposable piece on a Regicide board-- a necessary loss if it guaranteed long-term victory. Mech combat meant soldiers were less disposable, less uniform-- you could hardly compare a legion of myrmidons to a loose collection of highly-trained individuals with the firepower of a small army each. It meant that every Mech was a shocktrooper, meant to fight what a hundred men with guns couldn't. Each pilot was an investment, and a risky one, but with a high payoff if they won the war.
It meant they were upping the stakes.
Kansuke didn't say any of this-- he wasn't getting fed to the rats when it turned out the teacher was just baiting them into sounding dumb because she was an authority figure and could crap all over their opinions.
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As he stepped onto the bus, Yasha was confident he had everything he needed. He was a bit over-packed, even for the beach-- a beach umbrella, a tarp/blanket, a couple gallons of water in a cooler bag, enough sunscreen to give the sun cancer, spare batteries for his phone-- but he was comfortable with carrying all of it, as long as it meant he could do what he came here to do.
"Oi, oi, oi. You coming, O'Hara?" He stopped in the doorway to look back at the lagging American on his phone.
"Hm? ...o-oh...uh...were we just supposed to enter the bus? I thought...jeez...gotta remember I'm not in America anymore. Uh, yeah I'm coming..."
The two ended up sitting together on the bus, and Yasha was practically vibrating the seat-- which was notable since, at this proximity, it nearly drowned out the engine of the bus. Benjamin noticed Yasha's general noises and shrugged some. "I take it you're excited for the beach, huh Yasha?"
Yasha looked up. "Oh, uh." He cleared his throat. "No, not really. Saltwater gums up my tool hands, I'm at a greater risk of heatstroke than most, and of course there's... sand..." He shuddered, then shifted back to his usual cheerful tone. "Pretty much everything about the beach is a horrible experience for me!" He smiled toothily.
"Yikes..." Benjamin shook his head slightly. "Annnnd you're still okay with going? Despite the threats and risks that it brings you?"
Yasha nodded emphatically. "Oh, totally. It's all worth it."
"Uh-huh...alright, I'll bite...why is it worth it to you?"
Yasha's expression, to the extend he had one, became suddenly serious. He glanced around, as though there were someone listening, though of course, nobody was. "Alright, don't tell anybody, but..." He leaned in and whispered.
"I really just came to see the girls in their swimsuits. Think about it: Seigi, Konpaku, Ukemei-- all of them. In swimsuits."
Yasha's faceplate was already red, and he had no skin above the neck so of course he couldn't blush, but there was an actual puff of steam from roughly where his nostrils would be as he straightened back up.
Benjamin was surprised by this sudden turn of events as Yasha confided this information to him. The general thought of it, actually caused him to blush some. He looked around, before putting a hand on the chair, having a spider crawl out from his hand to sit on the chair, just as a lookout.
"...that's why you were gung-ho about this? ...also do we need to even add Rei into this category?" Benjamin whispered back to Yasha. No going back with this conversation.
Yasha nodded and huffed again, producing more little puffs of steam and folding his arms. "Even a cold girl like Konpaku can look good in a swimsuit, O'Hara. Heck, even a plain-looking girl like Sanada looks good in a swimsuit. It's science."
Benjamin was still silent for a bit, before raising an eyebrow. "...uh, isn't Ren a guy...?"
Yasha's eye twitched. "Not again..." he wheezed.
Yu-Gi-Oh! Blue Rose [OOC/Started/Not Accepting]
in Out of Character Planning
Posted · Edited by ChampionZero
This sounds dumb.
Needless to say, I'm in.