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91
General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Gaz on August 27, 2017, 10:14:21 PM »
Took me a while, but I'm all caught up! Loving it.
92
General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Cloak on August 27, 2017, 06:49:35 PM »
Wow. I forgot my own RAFianniversary -- it was eight days ago. I've been a RAFian for about nine years and a week now. Wow.

New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
Lucanus cervus hominidparasitus

Well, it flew at Cerulean. Cerulean didn't know stag beetles could fly -- he had never seen any in flight. True, it was rather . . . slow . . . and lumbering . . . but the distinctive low-pitched buzzing from the act was like hearing a chainsaw. It actually sounded a lot more intimidating than it actually was.

Cerulean dodged it easily. His superhuman speed allowed his perception to be superhuman human fast as well. But he really didn't need to with this slow lumbering beast. But, unfortunately, he doubted his scope of doing anything to this beast, offensively. He did not have a bullwhip tail like a Garatron, or any sharp-edged weapon like a sword or knife. He supposed that he could punch it, but would it even feel it through that exoskeletal armor of its?

Cerulean was easily zipping around the large lumbering beast. He was allowing himself to become dangerously overconfident and ****y about dodging it. But he still wasn't sure that he could damage it. Maybe if he could hit the same spot repeatedly, that could wear the fiend down.

Cerulean should have been paying more attention instead of considering possible methods of offensive attacks. He never noticed that this creature stood semi-upright, and its front legs ended bony, human-like hands ending in four digits. Obviously, inherited from Herbie's DNA. While Cerulean's mind was going miles a second, considering all possibilities that he could see. It left him immobile for a moment too long.

The stag beetle snapped its fingers, increasing its speed to the level of Kineceleran or Citrakayah. It managed to tear Cerulean's shirt, but Cerulean reacted fast enough that he could avoid any serious damage. He wasn't really accustomed to being taken unawares by means of speed. It was an embarrassing mistake for him to make, and made him remember the whole Great Race screw-up. Not again. He wouldn't take thing so lightly again.

Fortunately, Cerulean had proven himself faster than a Kineceleran or Citrakayah. He was able to effectively dodge and evade the beasts attacks. Granted, it was a lot harder than before, but it was doable. As he did, the back of his mind, he was trying to come up with the best course of action to destroy this monster.

He noticed that using its superhuman speed actually seemed blind the creature. Clearly, its brain was not sophisticated enough to process the environment moving at such speeds, like a tiger beetle. This could prove to be an advantage, Cerulean suspected.

But, suddenly, its speed died down. It had only been like 24 seconds. This meant that this creature's superhuman speed had a time limit. Now the question was if there was a cool-down time. But one thing was clear.

It was time to take action. Take action while somehow keeping Herbie's body intact. His family deserves some closure, Cerulean decided as he dodged more attacks by zipping here and there.

A roar. The creature was getting frustrated with Cerulean. It clearly didn't want to kill Cerulean, but it wanted to kill him just the same. No matter, no matter -- Cerulean thought that he had come upon a plan of attack to eliminate the way-too-big bug. He deftly picked up a piece of splintered wood, with one edge very sharp.

This bug had a very present weakness that Cerulean might not be able to exploit if it was the typical size of a stag beetle. Cerulean went for its titanium silver eyes, attacking with jabs and thrusts of the splintered wood. At least six times a second.

Within minutes, the creature was blinded. But Cerulean wasn't done. He quickly worked on the front legs before it could react or put together what happened. By the time it did, its dismembered front legs clattered to the floor with an odd metallic din, permanently disabling its superhuman speed.

But Cerulean wasn't done yet. Soon, the floor was littered with stag beetle bits. Cerulean had completely dismantled it, as if it were a piece of furniture of some sort waiting to be assembled. It was done.

Now only one matter remained. Cerulean looked at the Herbie Roland shell, as he considered what to say to his parents and family.
93
Introductions & Departures / Re: May be inactive for a while
« Last post by gh, King of Birbs on August 27, 2017, 01:08:14 PM »
Well, things have somehow gotten even ****ing worse over the past few days, thanks to **** managers. I also have had NO social life lately, so I guess I'm back for now
94
Animorphs Role Playing / Re: Galaxy's Edge Space Bar
« Last post by Gaz on August 27, 2017, 12:50:53 PM »
"It's possible," Morgan replied. "I was here ages ago with a few others. Gaz, Dr. Asda, Fletcher."

"I was here to," Julian added.

"You came later. Shut up." Morgan commented. "Anyway. You look a bit familiar too, come to think of it."
95
Animorphs Role Playing / Re: Galaxy's Edge Space Bar
« Last post by Shenmue654 on August 27, 2017, 11:16:13 AM »
Mar startles at this. He has basically never been asked to give an honest depiction of someone else's speech in his life. <Ahahah...well, well of course, milady. I don't think the cultural explanation will be...perfectly equivalent, but I will try. He's just explained that he's an android, and he is, I suppose, a fool. A jester. A comic that draws attention to the absurd. He described himself as a 'social ambassador, but he's really more of a...> Mar makes an exasperated gesture with his hands. <...party trick. Still...>

<He says that he has medical knowledge and that he could help you if you're ill. Not more than Ossanlin can do, but a quick patch-up is within his capability. He also says, I quote, 'Yeah, humans are short, violent little buggers.'> Mar shakes his head. <But don't believe him, he's an idiot. Yes, they don't have tails, and they are more violent than other species, but they do have to possess a justification for violent acts.>

Mar gave her a look of concern and again, that curious warmth. <But...if you're experiencing shock and fear, you should talk to the War-Prince and he may be able to sort things out. Whatever you've been through must have been utterly terrible. Take all the time you need.>
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Keshin watches carefully as Jeffrey goes over to talk to the impossibly weird accordion hellscape creature, and just shakes his head. All of the responses he had had to either Counselor had been shot clear out of his head by that thing's appearance. "I suppose we'll just...get back to our..."

And that was when what was clearly a minotaur and an upper-bodied centaur walked in, and all sense of sanity this place had had fell clean out the window. The minotaur, for some horrifying reason, looked distinctly familiar--- Keshin had actually seen that particular coloration somewhere before. Keshin held up a finger and then crossed the room towards the minotaur.

"Do...do I know...you...?" he says hesitantly, fully aware of how ridiculous that sentence would be in most contexts before it leaves his mouth.
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Jeffrey can't help a bit of a brief, cough-like laugh at what the creepy little alien was describing. Granted, he'd seen a revolving door of bizarre aliens since entering this place. "What, so....you're saying that like, ****ing Daredevil could just walk through the door and decide he wants to light everything on fire, in your belief system? That's...wow, that's special." Jeffrey chuckles with appreciation. "That is absolutely bonkers, little man."

"Still..." Jeffrey says, walking with him a bit, "I mean I come from a place where there are guys with real flipping superpowers, so maybe it's not as cracked as it seems. And nah, it's not everybody. In fact it's only like twelve or twenty percent of the whole population. I don't know the exact number. It's genetic, but nobody gets why, or how it happened. And the ones who have powers--- have all got different powers." Jeffrey's eyes glow vividly yellow, and he smiles at Truth Seeker, and suddenly Truth Seeker feels as if he has shifted very far back in time, because the voice he hears is one he trusts implicitly."This is mine. I can make people believe whatever I tell them."

"Whatcha' lookin' at there?" he says. "The Bartender? That dude creeps me out, man."
96
Animorphs Role Playing / Re: GESB: OOC Discussion
« Last post by Shenmue654 on August 26, 2017, 11:25:33 PM »
Alright. My lovey's here in DC so that means I unfortunately need to put this off for yet another day. XD Promise I'll produce something by the time we wake up. <<
97
hello, hello, hellooo~~ i'm so stoked, i missed you all.

how are things? what are things?
98
Court!  It's good to see you again!  :D
99
COURT!!!!! How I have missed you.
100
General Fan Fiction & Art / Re: Memoirs of a RAFian
« Last post by Cloak on August 26, 2017, 06:07:45 AM »
New chapter.

CHAPTER TWENTY:
Herbert "Herbie" Alan Roland

Cerulean had gone to a defunct comic book store. They have seemingly been going out of style, nowadays -- replaced by digital media and digital means to procure these comics. This was a fully-fledged business last year, before it went belly-up. What was it called? Lovhaug Comics? It was something like that.

Anyway, the building looked sad, empty, and bleak. The windows were devoid of any displays or advertisements, and the windows showed the bare wood floor with dust bunnies here and there. The shelves that once held comics of a variety of series were now vacated and stood empty and without purpose.

Cerulean hadn't entered yet, but it was clear that someone -- someone with strength and speed had burst through. This building was essentially abandoned, though there was a "For Lease" sign that seemed rather weather damaged from the front steps. But the building was not at all dilapidated. The floor, walls, and ceiling was bare and bore sign from having been well-maintained, until recently, when the business fell threw or they decided to move to a new location -- Cerulean did not know the logistics. It wasn't exactly big news when it happened, whatever it was.

When Cerulean crossed the threshold, he quickly took inventory of his surroundings as RAFian training dictated. The store wasn't really too big, though it did have a smaller, upper room. Probably for the more adult comics for comic connoisseurs to peruse when this place did business. And these were firm, stone stairs, with not escalators to speak of. Or if there were, they were amongst the first to be tore out.

Whoever was here with him, Cerulean considered, they were probably no upstairs. He would have heard the hard slapping of bare feet against the pristine, flat stone. After all, all the patients were barefoot. They were supposed to wear yellow socks with raised white parts, which added traction. But the nurses were too afraid to approach these patients to insist upon this.

That's when he saw the movement. Cerulean, being a speedster, had a keen eye for noticing even the most minute movements. He followed this movement, searching everywhere between for the patient. He was sure that he was in here. The door was forced open, after all, and he couldn't fathom anyone else would come into this place. Granted, he didn't know why and what one of the patients would come here for . . .

Then he saw Herbie, standing by a low shelf which used hold comics for sale. He gripped the side of the bare wooden shelf, which appeared to be bolted to the floor. Cerulean took notice of Herbie's thin frame and black hair like a brillo pad. His face was slack and expressionless, his eyes were blank and empty and seemingly stuck in their sockets. The entirety of his face looked like a really detailed mask.

But the thing he noticed more was that Herbie's hospital gown was fluttering forward, untied and open. It was then that Cerulean noticed the crack in the boy's porcelain-like body the extended from the nape of his neck to the top of his buttocks. And something was actually trying to get out of this boy's thin frame.

The green mass freed itself, and grew three times the size of the boy, now an empty porcelain shell. This green mass solidified into a green stag beetle, Lucanus cervus hominidparasitus, that was silver at the joints and had titanium silver eyes. His long jaws, so like a stag's antlers (hence why it was male), was at least as long as the shelf that Herbie had braced himself on, on which he still was gripping.

Stag beetles fed on decaying wood or tree sap, and were not predatory. And they were not usually hostile for humans. But this wasn't like those stag beetles, apparently, as it showed immediate antagonism towards Cerulean. Cerulean found himself actually expecting such a thing, as it always seems to go that way, in his time as a RAFian.

Cerulean, despite himself, felt confident that he was in no danger. There was no way that this creature was faster than him. . . .
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