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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: GESB: OOC Discussion
« Last post by Myitt on Today at 10:59:11 AM »
Aw man...I'm so sorry the rebellion stuff has made people feel left out! Scott, you know that we never meant to make you or anyone else feel bad.

I guess we just got caught up in this series of Google Docs and I, for one, found it useful to try and expand my own characters' backgrounds and interactions with one another. The fact that your characters were also involved just kind of made it natural to explore those plot points with or without you guys - and we probably should have included you and Luke.

Sorry >.< Argh. Again, no harm meant. On the plus side, I know have a *much* better feel for Myitt's past, and her brothers' relationships, and a whole slew of other rebel members...some of whom I hope we'll get to meet here in the GESB :)

And Leona - I'm sorry to see you go, but we'll be here if you want to jump back in!!
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General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Cloak on Today at 09:15:59 AM »
New chapter.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
Survival

Rotiart easily survived the cave in, as did the pandemonium demons wearing the bodies of staff and tourists. The ones that weren't met a very unwelcoming surprise -- sunrise. They exploded into wisps of brimstone and aether, dead and gone.

The rubble buried Rotiart up to his waist, but he was still quite dangerous. But not to Cloak -- in Tier Three of his power, which meant that he had three tendrils of golden-scarlet energy trailing from each of his eyes, which glowed like golden-scarlet suns. Who knew how many Tiers of power he had -- but he had subconsciously places these blocks to his powers, for fear of losing them or becoming overwhelmed or overburdened with them.

"Is this supposed to be impressive, Cloak?" Rotiart sneered with a thunderous voice.

"You have two options before you, Rotiart," Cloak said. His voice was cold and firm. "Return your stolen property, the stolen souls, give them back their bodies, and we can pretend this never happened. Or . . . we can get . . . messy."

"Do you take me for a fool?" he asked, with a belly laugh. "My power knows no peer. Not even you've the power to outmatch me."

"Whatever, whoever, aided in your resurrection has done something to you, Rotiart." Cloak said. "And not for the better. i truly wish that you could see that, even in your . . .
unstable condition, right now. Whoever they are, they twisted you. Warped your mind. This isn't you. You were making enormous strides before you battled the snake wesen. You were bettering yourself, and it was working."

"Save it," Rotiart snapped. He was far too conditioned to hate the RAFians at this point that he would not be convinced. "I don't care how many lies and flimsy rhetoric you spew. I will not be made a fool of again."

"The hard way it is," Cloak said, almost ruefully. Pityingly. Rotiart had made really progress, it was true. Cloak understood why he left his home as well, understood all too well -- a negligent, verbally abusive parent who didn't care about their child. Only in Cloak's case, his mother pretended that she did. "Just know, Rotiart -- it didn't have to be this way."

"You pretentious --" Rotiart splutterred in anger before firing a blast of red energy at Cloak, only to discover that Cloak fired a volley himself a split second before, and it hit him in the face. But it didn't hurt, just blinded him for a second.

It gave Rotiart a giant boost in his already overinflated confidence. Overconfidence usually is always a liability, especially to those who haven't any logical reason to be overconfident.

"Not good enough, Cloak." Rotiart sneered, as the Realm Walker said nothing in reply. Rotiart picked up a large piece of the rubble, unaware of how distracted Cloak seemed to be, and threw it.

Yes. He threw a rock at a Master of the Earth Element. Rotiart was never the smartest RAFian, back when he was one.

Cloak easily pulled the rock into orbit around him, and sent it back to Rotiart with an unintentional pirouette. It hit Rotiart in his right shoulder. This time it hurt. Not by much, but it was enough to cause Rotiart to take this more seriously.

He fired a concussive blast at the Elements Master, who slammed his fist on the ground. Then this generated a wall of stone between him and blast, which successfully blocked it. Then Cloak terrakinetically lifted this massive wall of earth and stone, looking rather like the Hulk holding up that mountain that one time, and heaved it at Rotiart, which hit him in the head. It just got him mad, rather than doing any kind of legitimate damage.

Then again, Cloak wasn't trying to kill Rotiart. He had a plan, and, insofar, it was going swimmingly. For here, Cloak began dodging and evading Rotiart's attacks. Cloak found that he, in the former RAFian's frustration, was starting to telegraph his attacks a bit too much.

"You are DONE, Cloak!" Rotiart roared. "You are DONE! You hear me?! You are -- why are you smiling?"
3
Animorphs Role Playing / Re: Galaxy's Edge Space Bar
« Last post by Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin) on Today at 01:43:30 AM »
Ossanlin gestures to Al.  <By all means...the interface is thought-based, so if you're capable of some form of thought-speech...>  He pauses a moment before continuing.  <I've given you access to the med-bay controls.>  He arches his eyebrow again, impressed with Al's abilities.  He assumes the lockout on the rest of the ship will keep Al out of any systems that have nothing to do with the med-bay...

He trains a stalk-eye on Salem.  <Surely you understand the value of morphing.  It's one of our greatest advantages in a decades-long conflict which concerns the fate of the entire galaxy.  I cannot simply dispense it out of turn.>  He looks down at Nepek.  <He's a seer, and a Hork-Bajir.  So he's precious, and likely doesn't deserve this fate.  The blood of the majority of his species stains Andalite hands, and the blood of those who remain alive stains the palps of the Empire.>  He pauses, closing his eyes, his tone remaining cool and collected.  <But what is one life against thousands, hundreds of thousands...perhaps millions or even billions?>
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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: New RP
« Last post by Leona on Yesterday at 11:14:11 PM »
Just a heads up to anyone who was waiting for activity to pick before joining. This place is now jumping.
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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: GESB: OOC Discussion
« Last post by Leona on Yesterday at 11:12:42 PM »
I'm really sorry to do this, but I'm just having a really hard time keeping my muse going for this RP. I'm use to more structured plot type RPs and I'm just feeling a little lost and out of place in this one. I'm really sorry but I'm not sure when/if I'll feel up to posting in this one again. Again so sorry, I hate doing this.
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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: GESB: OOC Discussion
« Last post by Aluminator (Kit) on Yesterday at 10:42:52 PM »
Posted. Slowly. Sorry. Weird week.

Luke, I, for one, can absolutely relate to where you were coming from. For me, at least, there was a bit of a feeling of... abandonment? Betrayal? Something like that, back when they started the Rebellion. Like, the had been all of our playground, but then they decided that they had better playgrounds, and it felt like we no longer mattered quite as much-- and then to have Ossanlin essentially ignored when you tried to move in on that world would be a bit of a gut-wrenching back and forth.

Tara, Jessi, I also realize that that's not anything you would do intentionally, so, y'know, no worries there. For what it's worth, I've come to really respect and love the stories coming out of the Rebellion ^_^
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Animorphs Role Playing / Re: Galaxy's Edge Space Bar
« Last post by Aluminator (Kit) on Yesterday at 10:26:38 PM »
"I can tell," Salem confirms distractedly, but doesn't go into any more detail. He finally finds what he's looking for, and places the tip of the needle-less syringe into a little divot in the center of the Hork-Bajir's chest. He mouths a count of three in Gallard, and then depresses the plunger. There's a few-second-long hiss as the contents of the syringe- a rather potent painkiller- are released into the Hork-Bajir's bloodstream. "Give him... what, sixty seconds or so before starting any adrenaline," Salem says, straightening up. He pauses. "Unless there's no choice. Could be rough on his heart if that hasn't diffused first." He turns and looks at Ossanlin. "So even if the morphing technology were close at hand, it wouldn't be an option for this one?"

"Could we use those force field tubes," Al points at the blood flowing from the morphed Andalite, "to get blood flowing into his lower bits properly?"

Salem raises his eyebrows, the frowns down at the Hork-Bajir. "I... actually don't know if that could work." He thinks for a few seconds, then turns back to Ossanlin. "I've no idea where the blood vessels..."

"Actually," interrupts Al, stepping up beside Salem, "I do." His eyes focus in the middle distance as if he's reading. "Main artery here," he says, pointing between two seemingly-random points in the mess that apparently mark the severed ends of a major blood vessel. "Uh... main veins here..." he points to two other spots... "and I think the other one's actually intact." He looks at Ossanlin, questioningly. "If you could set up the force fields to serve as... just... ducts in those locations, it might help." He indicates Forlin. "You could scan him for any other necessary routing. He's the perfect road map, but I don't know how sophisticated your fields are. I can also project some if needed."
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General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Artsy Fartsy Asmo
« Last post by .: Asmo on Yesterday at 08:12:50 PM »
Felt like making a hammer for the daughter. Viking style.
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General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Cloak on Yesterday at 06:02:37 AM »
New chapter.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
Nothing But Bad Days Ahead

After he absorbed every last soul in the basin, he grew. Clothes and all, he grew. His scars vanished, one by one, as he grew to the top of the cavern. His skin became a deeper shade of red, and his fingers became clawed. His feet became cloven hooves, like a goat's, and everything below his waist was shaggy rust-colored hair. His eyes glowed a deep yellow and each eye split into two. So he had four eyes -- two on the right, two on the left -- with no discernible sclera or pupils. He grew an ornate that nearly scraped the roof of the cavern. His chest and abdominal areas were ripped now.

And the Animusraptor Ritus was stuck on his chest, where it looked like a mere knickknack. He laughed, a deep and gravelly voice. He snapped his fingers and lively music started up.

"Great," Saffa muttered, "now he's gonna sing."

"I guess I've been naughty,
I'm afraid I've been bad.
I couldn't leave well enough alone.
I dug up a horrible secret, you see.
And I'm afraid I've made it my own.
It's something so wicked I shudder to think,
Of the despicable deeds that I'll do!
Creating such chaos as you've never seen,
And misery like you never knew!
There ain't nothing but bad days ahead (ain't nothing)!
Ain't nothing but bad days ahead (bad days ahead)!
So kiss off your happiness, bury your dreams,
Face this new feeling of dread!
There ain't nothing but bad days ahead (bad days ahead)!
"

All his pandemonium demons lackeys stuck to the walls, to avoid being stepped on. But soon they began to file outside, sensing what Cloak hoped he had been wrong Earthsighting. Meanwhile, seemingly oblivious, Rotiart launched into the song again:

"The power to change is mine, all mine!
The first thing I'll change is the rules.
RAF and its RAFians are soon going to find that,
I've played them for snivelling fools.
From now on, the forum will hear what I say,
And whatever Rotiart says goes!
The world is my plaything, my yo-yo, my toy!
And I won't stop 'til everyone knows!
There ain't nothing but bad days ahead (ain't nothing)!
Ain't nothing but bad days ahead (bad days ahead)!
. . . And now that I'm back,
There ain't nothing but bad days ahead (bad days ahead)!
Are you scared?
Full of fear?
"

"Not particularly," Cloak said, but Rotiart continued as if he didn't hear him.

"Feel like running and hiding?
Well, ain't that that a shame!
'Coz, honey, it's too darn late!
There ain't nothing but bad days ahead (ain't nothing)!
Ain't nothing but bad days ahead (bad days ahead)!
Move over, Garrotik; Voldemort, get lost!
Take a hike, Knights of Humanity!
There ain't nothing but bad (wonderfully sad)!
Wonderfully sad days (no, no)!
You've never had days (you've never had)!
'Til you've seen my bad ways!
There ain't nothing but bad days ahead!
"

The cavern rumbled. This display of power was going to cause the cave to collapse. There was no saving it.

"Everyone, to me!" Cloak yelled, to the others.



Source song: https://youtube.com/watch?v=5V55et0JQP8
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General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Cloak on May 20, 2017, 10:32:49 PM »
I'm glad you did -- I kinda wanted someone to be caught up when the big reveal happens in the next chapter. Which is now.

New chapter.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
HOW?!

"How the h--" Underseen said, before cutting himself off due to his absolute incredulity.

"You're supposed to be dead!" Gaz said, shocked. "We saw you die, Rotiart!"

And so it was indeed Rotiart, somehow surviving his defeat at the fangs of the Lauenschlange, Lucas Penn. His face matched the rest of his body as being red and scarred. His hair had been sheered off. But he had legs. And he still had his hand that was supposed to be missing -- but make no mistake. This was the real Rotiart -- who was still recovering from his harrowing ordeal from the serpentine wesen.

"This can't be real," Saffa said, as if she was addressing the narration, "a clone. An exosuit or shapeshifter. There are a myriad of other possibilities. Rotiart is dead and this thing before us is a mere facsimile, a fraud, a fake."

"You always thought you were smarter than you are," Rotiart said. "I'll have you know, I am the real Rotiart. Trey Moore was just a disguise."

"But Trey Moore truly exists," Hunter said. "How did you replace him?"

"That's my business," Rotiart said, repressively, not giving them anything.

"How did you survive?" Gaz said.

"That's none of your business," Rotiart sniffed, than his tone became malicious, "You all betrayed me, left me for dead, and soon -- soon I shall have my vengeance."

"I tried to stop the fight, Rotiart!" Cloak protested. "I tried to step in! I tried to stop Malice, Rotiart!"

"You were just trying to show off again, and you know it!!" Rotiart said, briefly losing his composure, before reasserting it again. "You were trying to hog all the glory for yourself. I could have handled that snake dude by myself."

"Rotiart, you tried that and failed," Underseen said, trying to reason with the former RAFian. Yes, former. His Mark had been broken as he had evidently renounced his allegiance to them. "You were unprepared to --"

"I was perfectly prepared!" he said, in a maniacal lapse before succumbing to his emotionless state once more. The five RAFians looked at each other, all having noticed these strange psychological ticks. "You just didn't believe in me. None of you did."

"Rotiart --"

"SILENCE!!!" he roared. "Once my plan reaches completion, I will possess enough power to rule everyone, with my pandemonium demons intermingling amongst them, acting as my secret agents. My power will have no peer -- I will be even more powerful than you, Cloak."

Cloak could have felt anger at that jibe, even been wrathful. But his eyes cut through this lofty rhetoric of Rotiart. He saw the insecurities that Rotiart always had -- afraid of being weak and being seen as such, afraid of being helpless and being seen as such, afraid of being powerless and being seen as such. He did not know the more powerful one got, the more burdensome the power was, like many of those that constantly thirst for power and relentlessly seek out more and more of it. It could be like an addiction. Rotiart was evidently ignorant of all this, and Cloak knew it. All he could do was pity the kid (whose body was now that of a mature man), and feel guilt and shame for not realizing that he was not dead -- somehow, through some undisclosed method that he knew nothing about.

Rotiart placed the Animusraptor Ritus to his chest, and, unsurprisingly began to absorb all the souls in the basin, using them to fuel his power . . . changing into a monster.

A monster declaring that there's gonna be nothing but bad days ahead for RAF and its RAFians. . . .
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