arkshiparchitects: (Default)
Hyperion Star Mods ([personal profile] arkshiparchitects) wrote in [community profile] arkshipadventures2025-08-14 12:46 pm

Inaugural Test Drive!

ZEIT
It is time. AWAKEN.
Prompt Summary:

  • Characters step out of a door they don't remember entering.

  • Representatives of the gods greet them and inform them of their purpose here.

  • Helpful representatives and literature answer any question they can.

  • Food!

NICE TO MEET YOU

You step through a door.

Why? How? Where? The questions have no meaningful answer. Perhaps your last memory is walking through a door, but it certainly didn't lead here. More likely, you remember something else. Lying in bed. Talking to a loved one. Fighting for your life. No matter what it was... you step through a door.

On the other side is a room done in smooth walls and clean, bright white light, as if shadows and solid lines are antithetical. The size of a generous theater, it could hold hundreds of people comfortably, but at the moment it houses perhaps forty, all dressed in the same uniform of flowing white robes and smooth black-metal baldrics that practically hum with some sort of energy.

Not all of them are human. Perhaps half. The rest range from a human-like figure with limbs twice the length that they ought to be, to figures with fur or scales, all the way to a giant spider-like creature and a bird thrice the size of a normal person.

"Welcome, Marked," the figure in the front says, two arms spread wide to greet you and two folded reverently before them. And then the people spread out, each of them approaching to greet someone who emerged from the doors properly, and explain everything to them, with a patience and gentle understanding that shows they have both the training and experience to handle this unusual process. And, should it prove necessary, the personal shields necessary to repel attacks, and the neurodisrupters necessary to render an assailant immobile till they agree to listen politely, if nothing else.

You get a summary. There's more to learn, and if you wish, you can move to the tables and booths nearby, where more of these robed figures wait to pass over the pamphlets, books, and guides that can answer your questions. By now you also recognize that you stick out; the white robes deliberately distinguish your greeters from those who stepped out with you. That's on purpose. You'll need to talk with your fellows, after all.

Between the booths, on tables spread throughout the room, is food. Some you recognize, much you don't, but you know something here will taste good -- and you need it. You're hungry. Deeply hungry, less starving and more scraped empty. If you need someone to eat it to prove it isn't poisoned, one of the white-robed greeters will do so gladly. (Or get another one who can actually eat whatever it is you want. The large bird, for example, is actually an obligate carnivore, so don't make her eat corn and sesame seeds.)

This is your life now. Best prepare for it.

FARAH MIRAVILIS
Captain

All Marked, prepare for emergency deployment.

Destination planet: 1322889281-4 (Vistage). Scope of deployment: planetwide.

Mission parameters: Combat, protect, supply.

A recent meteor impact introduced atmokaryotic aerophages into Vistage's biosphere. Atmosphere levels at 92%. Geometric growth predictions indicate total degassification of Vistage within 21 days at current pace. Total destruction of aerophagic threat and protection of 79% of current population will supply sufficient Divinity to resume full maintenance and protection of the biosphere. Failure is not an option. Good luck.

EMERGENCY DEPLOYMENT

An entirely new set of Marked, and Divinity levels so low they're an emergency. Wonder if this is related.

The dropships practically vibrate at the end of their berths, and as you walk down the long piers that stretch over the open deployment bay beneath, the planet called Vistage dominates the view. At this height it looks like nothing more than thick white clouds, with glimpses of pink water and golden land peeking through the occasional gap. But you can't look too long; within moments, you settle into your seat on the dropship, and it disengages noiselessly from its gravitomooring to descend. In front of each seat is a respirator, a personal shield emitter, and a kinetic lance rifle, though you're not obligated to take anything you don't need.

(You are up against creatures literally eating the atmosphere, so please consider the respirator.)

The descent takes approximately fifteen minutes. Just long enough to stretch your nerves, as the dropship plunges into the (rapidly failing) atmosphere, through the clouds, and down to the ground below.

ENGAGE

Class 0-1: Defend and Protect the People of Alopolig

A. The city closest to the meteor impact site, Alopolig, is home to approximately 900,000 Vistagi. This saurid people possesses a technology level approximately equal to 22nd-century Earth -- in other words, not so advanced that the gale-force winds roaring through the city can be ignored. The tall skyscrapers are to the last being scraped and sandblasted by debris scooped up by the shifting atmosphere, and already numerous ones on the furthest side of the city have collapsed. Worse, the Vistagi have no idea what the true source of their trouble is. To protect them, the Marked must get them underground.

Marked undertaking this duty receive portable force screen generators sufficient to temporarily block off a street, and stun batons. The Vistagi are not prepared for alien races to show up and begin directing traffic. (Yes, stunning and carrying all of them off is acceptable if you think it's the best course of action. Can you carry them faster than they could walk?)

B. Closest to the impact site, the air swarms with aerophages. Reproducing by fission at a rate visible to the naked eye, these creatures intake immense amounts of air.

Deployed Marked are instructed to thin their ranks by any means possible. The kinetic lance rifles shatter them with a single shot, but they have the advantage of numbers. Maybe you need to think of some better plan, if you want to make a meaningful difference.


Class 2-3: Interception

A. Aerophages that resemble purple dodecahedrons ("A-dodecs") act like scouts or trailblazers, forming the front line of the aerophagic advance. Destroying them appears to slow the spread of the aerophages, as they emit some sort of high-frequency distress call that warns others away from that area.

To protect both high-population areas and strategic gaps in mountain ranges that otherwise block the aerophages' spread, Marked receive personal antigrav flight belts in order to spread out and hunt down the A-dodecs. But be careful: the deployment report appears unaware that the A-dodecs can also emit electromagnetic energy at weaponized frequencies and amplitudes!

B. If the A-dodecs' warning call can be copied, a dropship can broadcast it on a broad-spectrum frequency, potentially keeping aerophages out of entire cities or regions. Though that won't ultimately stop them from draining the atmosphere, it will at least localize the lowest-pressure zones away from the Vistagi. Marked receive permission to adjust the dropship communications hardware and software for that purpose.

Watch out, though: the aerophages communicate more than just danger this way. A mistake might lead to them swarming, or draw hostility from the stronger variants who can fire back! Complicating matters, the Vistagi military is attempting to engage the aerophages with conventional weaponry, and seems likely to decide the Marked are part of the problem. They may need to be handled carefully...


Class 4-5: Contain and Cull

A. Four Radiant Aegis-class dropships deploy around the meteor crater in cardinal directions. Each of them can project a force barrier that, when combined, can completely seal off the meteor and the vast number of spawning aerophages in its vicinity. This is no simple operation, however: the four ships must activate their generators simultaneously. The electrokinetic resonance waves the ships use to project their screens are a siren song to the aerophages, and even the slightest delay will let enough escape to completely drain the atmosphere around the ships while thoroughly irradiating everything nearby.

On top of coordinating the deployment, the Marked also have to deal with the huge numbers of aggressive aerophages drawn by the wavelengths the ships' generators emit at standby, including ones the size of a small house with the electromagnetic power to match. Then, after activation, the Marked will have to fend off the ones outside the containment field, who will race eagerly towards the ships with much the same result.

B. The only hope of saving Vistage is slaughtering the aerophages down to the last. Even one left alive can start this whole calamity over again. Marked are instructed to use any methods at their disposal to locate and destroy aerophages.

Marked undertaking this take will soon find that their enemies come in many sizes and shapes. The ones best able to spread are the largest high-atmosphere "singularity tetrahedrons" that float like upside-down pyramids on the edge of the troposphere, gathering immense levels of electricity from atmospheric interactions that they can deploy like lightning. Numerous other sizes and shapes of aerophage also travel farthest from the swarm; Marked will need to meet this challenge with incredible speed and force to have any hope of success.


Class 6-7: Apocalypse Response

A. No sooner do the first dropships touch ground than the first unusual aerophages appear, as if in response. The longer the Marked fight back against the aerophages, the more variants appear, like an organism's immune system adapting to best fight back against a virus. All too soon, the aerophages send out variants that can breach force fields, ignore kinetic lance shots, focus enough energy to microwave a human in ten seconds, or worse.

The strongest Marked need to oppose these with whatever force and effect they can bring to bear. Even just a few of them are enough to endanger all the Marked as well as the Vistagi, and sufficient numbers will overwhelm even the full forces the Hyperion Star can bring to bear. But the longer the Marked fight, the more likely it is they'll see aerophages come for them that are specifically designed to counter them...

B. Describing the air around the meteor that brought the aerophages here as being absolutely full of the creatures is a mistake. There is no air around the meteor, not any more. Just aerophages, countless numbers of them, constantly spawning and splitting and producing new complicated shapes and sizes to join the more usual members.

Destroy them. Destroy every last one. However you can.


Class X: Terminate Master Control

In the heart of the meteor, in the center of the aerophage swarm, an artificial intelligence hums to itself as it puts the final adjustment onto a new aerophage breed, then transmits the fission-mutation pattern into the swarm at large.

The answer to all the speculation, revealed: the aerophages are indeed a weapon, though who or what initially developed the AI cores that deploy them on the planets they crash into is unknown. Nor does it really matter. So long as this machine exists, it will continue to deploy aerophages, modify them, and perfect them, until the last drops of atmospheric gas drain away and leave the planet as barren and lifeless as a sun-scorched core of rock and iron.

Its weapons: the aerophages, which it can modify and control effortlessly. A near-limitless number stand between the Marked and the Master Control, all of which the latter can and will shape to defend itself and destroy those who dare challenge it. The Class X Marked are the only ones who can hope to resolve this situation, once and for all.

Prompt Summary:

  • Characters receive a brief from the Captain, indicating emergency deployment.

  • They enter the dropships and descend to the planet.

  • Aerophages, creatures that consume atmospheric gas, must be stopped.

  • Each Class has its goal. Good luck.
AEROPHAGE

Biological, despite appearances. Consumes atmospheric gas. Replicates via fission. Unknown origin.

Speculated to be a developed weapon.

EN
Could SOMEONE come do SOMETHING about the Chaos Field???
I was hoping she wouldn't notice...
HVZABLIN
Prompt Summary:

  • En calls for assistance with the Chaos Field.

  • Representatives of the gods await the Marked at the Chaos Field.

  • They explain Chaos Control as best they can.

  • Chaos Control!

AN EVENTFUL HORIZON

A grass field, peaceful and serene. Oddly silent, perhaps; no wind blows, no insects chirp or buzz, and the large black dome in front of you really seems like it should be making some sort of noise. But it doesn't.

In fact, the more you look it, the more it seems... not there. That black dome is not a presence, but an absence -- of light, of sound, of life, of space and time. It's not a very comfortable feeling.

"That is the Chaos Field," says the white-robed representative, the same one that greeted you when you first stepped out of stasis into the Arkship proper. "It is an unfortunate byproduct of the ship's power source. I assure you, however, that the Aberration cannot affect you or the Chaos Field itself, and you are in no danger from it. Rather, this is an area where the mind rules over matter, and your will is your greatest protection."

Having so said, they step back, but do not leave. Though they cannot participate, they hope their presence will be of some reassurance. All that remains, then, is for you to cross the threshold. Will you impose your will upon it, or is your strength not at the peak it needs to summit?

Success

Around you, the blackness coalesces into... whatever you wanted it to. A memory of home, perhaps. A foe for you to fight, the better to work out your frustrations. A different shape for you to inhabit, like a dream of flying.

Failure

The image that coalesces around you is one from your memories. Perhaps a frozen moment, perhaps a scene that plays out in front of you, unstoppable and impossible to hide from anyone who might join you in the field, intentionally or otherwise.

Your fear, laid bare. Fire, perhaps? Heights? A monster you could not slay? A loss you endured, or know you shall endure?

The Grim Reaper itself steps from the shadows, its scythe already swinging to cut you low and add you to its toll for the day. The Chaos Field is not always about embarrassing secrets and psychological torment. Sometimes it's just as subtle as a brick to the face.

Or...

The Chaos Field is complicated, its possibilities limitless. What will you face? What will you create?

HVZABLIN

You're having one of those days, aren't you?

I would say I understand, but let's not pretend you and I work in the same ways. Heh. Baryons.

Instead, welcome to the collective unconscious. Here you may reach out to anyone else. Or everyone else.

Answer them this: Who are you? What is your name? What is your species? What is your world? And what is your quest? (I understand that last one is considered quite funny. Witness my humor and quake with laughter.)

Prompt Summary:

  • It's the network prompt option.
INGREDIENTS OF TEST DRIVE PROMPTS
angel_of_baal: (Default)

Re: Questions?

[personal profile] angel_of_baal 2025-08-16 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Here is my dumb question: size/scale? In canon, Sangyboi here is between 9 to 14 feet tall. (Ludicrous, in other words). Do you have any preference?
angel_of_baal: (Default)

Sanguinius | Warhammer

[personal profile] angel_of_baal 2025-08-16 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
+ Nice to Meet You +

One moment, he was on the Vengeful Spirit, the walls and bulkheads of the ship sliding off into Chaos and deformity, and then he was...here. Suddenly.

And everything was too bright and too light. It jarred and dazzled and for a long moment, Sanguinius just stood, probably blocking the way for anyone behind him, or trying to move in front of his large body, larger still with wings half-spread in wariness.

He had foreseen his death, but he had not seen this as part of it.

"Where are my sons? Where is my brother?" The former is said with worry. The latter, with flat hostility. Horus has much to answer for.

+ Emergency Deployment +
I. Dropship
This was just like an orbital drop. He's done this hundreds of times, descending with his sons to bring the Emperor's light, or the Emperor's wrath (whichever was called for) to the people below. He's serene, the kind of calmness of his kind, who has fought for centuries. He has no doubt he will survive. He has no doubt of victory.

You, maybe not so much? "Is this your first time in an orbital drop?" He's just trying to make conversation, to keep everyone calm.

II. Apocalypse Response

These creatures who ate the air were a novelty, but he had destroyed novelties before--the Nephilim, sepolcrali, bone eaters, dozens of xenos enemies to the Imperium of Man. These were also a threat, but he was ready for it.

Perhaps you find yourself pinned down--and the Great Angel of the IX Legion swoops down, protecting you under the cage of his huge wings. Or perhaps he is pinned down, crying out in defiance, his wings smashing the creatures together ferociously, unwilling to go down without a fight. "It!" he cries out, "Is not my destiny to die this day!"

+ An Eventful Horizon +
It's Baal, his home planet, with its brutal red stone and fierce winds. Wind ruffles his feathers as he stands, looking at the abandoned Arx Angelorum--a huge cathedral, once filled with Librarians, studying Chaos and the Warp and its manifestations of evil. It's beautiful, and the setting sun casts rosy shadows on the intricate towers and balustrades.

Beautiful in that beauty of desolation. He sighs, as creatures whirl in the sky above it. "Was it all a mistake?"
badassfreakingoverlord: (books can't sweat)

Overlord Zetta | Makai Kingdom

[personal profile] badassfreakingoverlord 2025-08-16 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Nice to Meet You

[Not quite... stepping out of the doorway, the almighty Overlord Zetta more sort of... flopped out, smacking face-down on the ground directly in front of it with a heavy thump.]

[This is because he is a book, and cannot take steps.]

[A couple of moments pass, in which no one could be blamed for mistake the Overlord for an ordinary, non-sentient tome, even if a very large one. Zetta, after all, needs a few horrified seconds to process his current situation, and several more to decide what the proper course of action is, given the circumstances. He might as well have spared the effort for those last few, because he concludes that he should get angry, as if any other choice could ever exist.]

[And so the Sacred Tome, a book over two feet in height, begins flopping around like a beached fish on the ground, while from its lower-facing cover comes a torrent of garbled, angry protestations that make even less sense because they're so frequently muffled by the heavy flop-thumps and the floor itself.]



Nice to Meet You Too

[Having recovered from a certain incident that NEVER HAPPENED and NO ONE SAW, Zetta now rests firmly in the grip of a loyal minion, who happily carries him around with a sort of vapid cheer appropriate for a semi-sentient extension of the Overlord's mana power.]

[Now free to properly glare at other people, the Overlord glares at other people. This situation is far from ideal, as he already knows. No sign of any potential allies, although no sign of anyone who'd jump in to take advantage of his current state, either. No Overlord's castle, and without a proper Netherworld, no access to the space between universes that he could use for a convenient escape.]

[Clearly, he'll need some loyal minions -- more than just those he can create -- to achieve his return to power, strength, and a proper body. Fortunately, as an Overlord, he possesses sufficient power, charisma, and overwhelming majesty that finding such people will be effortless!]

[Which is why his minion carries him straight up to the nearest person.]


Hey. What's your deal?


Emergency Deployment

Hey!

[He may be a book, but he's a damn loud book. From the center of the dropship, where he floats in a manner that inexplicably must be described as "irritating", the book calls out to demand attention.]

Anyone who's all, 'I'm too strong and awesome for these rifles', pass them this way. I've got an army to equip!

Class X

[Honestly, Zetta has to give this situation credit. This mess would be a challenge for almost any Overlord he knows except himself... if he had his body back.]

[Which, of course, he does not.]

[Fortunately, he DOES have a small minion army.]

[The Overlord hasn't charged into the depths of the fray yet. For now, his dozen deployed minions hang on the fringes of the battle. The front line wields swords and spears and axes against the onrushing aerophages, providing cover for the second line and their kinetic lance rifles, and then the third line of wizards and sorceresses hurling spells into the fray. What started as a rather desperate holding action is slowly turning in favor of the Overlord's forces, as the sheer number of enemies they drop makes their EXP numbers climb so fast some of their status screens are actually starting to smoke from sheer friction. What's that? That doesn't make sense? NEITHER DOES ANY OF THIS.]


Hyaaaha ha ha ha ha! Choke on this, stupid air-eating -- things! You made the mistake of going up against the most badass freaking Overlord in the entire cosmos!

[No sooner does he say that, of course, than a frickin' laser blasts out of one of the largest and newest aerophages, blasting the minions into the air as it cuts a deep furrow into the ground where they'd stood. With the onslaught disrupted, the aerophages surge forward towards the broken lines.]

Aww, crap!


The Network Prompt Option

Who am I, huh? I guess even a whatever-it-is-you-are isn't well-traveled enough in this infinite cosmos of ours to recognize the guy who stands atop it.

I, Overlord Zetta, am the most badass freaking Overlord in the entire cosmos! Naturally, I'm a demon, of course. My Netherworld is... uh, temporarily out of order, but as soon as I find a way to restore it and get my body back, I'll show even these so-called gods who they made the mistake of messing with.

Attention, other Marked! (I feel dirty just using that term.) This is your opportunity to get in on the ground floor of the newly-rebuilding army of the Overlord. Join me now and get the rare once-in-a-lifetime privilege of serving beneath me! Overlord Zetta! Accept no freaking substitutes!
starswimming: (dragon!)

Re: Questions?

[personal profile] starswimming 2025-08-16 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
So...if Vyr attacks these aerophages with teeth/claws/eats them, etc, does that work? Are they liable to give them any adverse effects, like poison or disease?
starswimming: (whoa!)

[personal profile] starswimming 2025-08-16 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
omnomnomnomnom
starswimming: (shocked)

Vyrastral | Setting OC

[personal profile] starswimming 2025-08-16 09:48 pm (UTC)(link)
nice to meet you

Ah. So this was what the gods had meant when they'd allowed his kind to dwell upon the Hyperion Star. Well. That's fine by them. So long as their kin could remain; the bargain had been made, and if Vyr was the chip? They could deal with that.

They'd been assured that they could remain in their true form in stasis, but really, Vyr had no reason to strain the gods any further than they were already. Or the abomination, but that was a grudging thought. One they'd probably have to answer for later.

They didn't care. Instead, they stepped forward and glanced around, waving off the white-robe who was already heading for them.

"I know the bargain, I know why I'm here. Take care of the others who need you."


Emergency Deployment

a. Dropship

Vyrastral strode confidently down one of the piers, glancing at the attendant outside of the dropship that appeared to be waiting for them. Though they chuckled at that for just a moment.

"Pass over the respirator and the emitter. I won't be needing the rest. Even better, give me a moment."

At that, they stepped quite a ways back, shifting from this seeming to their true form, that of a meters-long dragon. They gently gripped both the emitter and the respirator, sliding the latter over their muzzle and hooking the emitter from it.

"There. Now you can re-equip that ship for someone else!" That was a cheerful rumble from the beast, even as they leap over the waiting dropship and spreading their wings to simply glide off into space--before folding their wings to better dive into the waiting atmosphere below!


b.Contain and Cull

First things first: their plan? Take out the big mothers. They may not actually be mothers, but they're spawning millions of these aerophages, so Vyrastral sees no difference, really. The things must be destroyed for this planet, for its people, to survive, and so they shall fight.

Swarms of smaller aerophages soar at them; while Vyr does need to breathe, it isn't always oxygen. The respirator helps when they need it, but at this rate, they're only using it when they need it (as well as playing keep-away with the smaller aerophages. Will they clog it up? The dragon doesn't know, but very much cares!). The smaller ones get obliterated by claws and teeth--when they seem to have no ill effects, they turn into a light snack for the dragon.

Their primary objective is in sight; of course, the gods-bedamned thing launches lightning at them. Irritated, but undaunted, they cling to the outside, again using claws and teeth, but it's proving a slightly tougher nut to crack.

Not an unexpected outcome. Launching off the outside, Vyr tears off the respirator mask, opens their muzzle, and breathes out their breath weapon in a cloud, letting the charged plasma start to eat into the hull of the thing and do even more damage.

"That's a start!" they snarl, wings beating frantically.


(ooc: PM this journal for plotting! thanks!)
deathoftheauthor: (;43)

louis de pointe du lac | the vampire chronicles

[personal profile] deathoftheauthor 2025-08-17 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
nice to meet you
( If a Hieronymous Bosch painting had a waiting room, Louis thinks that it might resemble this place. Its existence is impossible, both too sterile and too chaotic, inhabited by beings that Louis could never have imagined on his own. His mind wants to resist, to insist that it's a dream and he'll wake up in his coffin to another ordinary evening... except that his dreams have never once involved informational brochures.

Some time after arrival— he's lost track— Louis can be found tucked away in a corner of the large, white room, surrounded by several stacks of books and pamphlets. He has his own organizational system, though it is neither tidy or obvious to anyone other than himself: read and helpful in one pile, read but unhelpful in another; unread and potentially helpful here, intriguing but not immediately pertinent there. What's that? He has the last copy of the book you were looking for? Perhaps you should get his attention… or just try to take it while he isn't looking. He seems rather invested.

Or perhaps you're perusing the food offerings when you spot a tall, lanky man dressed in black staring with some suspicion (but notably not disgust) at something that looks very much like a chocolate fountain, but flowing with what appears to be blood. He isn't that thirsty yet… is he? He shivers; he'll have to feed soon, but he doesn't want to think of what that might mean in this place.
)

an eventful horizon
( Louis knows himself well enough to know that whatever his subconscious or his will might conjure up from this inky black void is more likely to be terrible than not. Still… he is curious. And moreover, he may not in fact have much choice in the matter at all. Which is why he has agreed (perhaps reluctantly, but still) to instead accompany you on this test of the Chaos Field. Two heads are better than one, and misery loves company.

Stepping inside, their surroundings shift and swirl and finally solidify, for better or for worse. At least it isn't something out of his own nightmares. Louis turns to his present companion and asks:
)

Would you say that this is what you had in mind?

network
Please, tell me that I'm not the only one here who feels utterly out of his depth.

My name is Louis. I come from a planet called Earth. How strange it feels to introduce myself this way! Until today I thought such things were only possible in stories. Tell me, have you ever met a being from another world before? I suppose I should be thankful that they were so welcoming, although I still suspect that some error was made. My skills are unremarkable, and my belief cannot be bought so easily.

That being said… they did not lie about our newfound gifts. I grew a rose from nothing, and it vanished into nothing once again. Have you attempted anything like that?

ooc
( ooc. info / permissions! short rundown: louis is a 200+ year old vampire with a massive guilt complex who enjoys quiet intellectual pastimes and is not accustomed to being yeeted into space. he's bookish and introverted, but deeply curious, and can talk for hours once he gets going. if you'd like to plot something different, go ahead and pm this account or hit me up at [plurk.com profile] melodramatics! ♥ )
starswimming: (Default)

nice to meet you

[personal profile] starswimming 2025-08-17 02:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[Vyr notices the man's suspicious look at the fountain. They're not turned off by the fact that he's staring at a blood fountain; everyone needs to eat to survive. They won't judge.]

It's probably innocuous, if you're concerned. For what it's worth, my people have lived here for a few generations now, without any issues.

[Not to mention--though Vyr isn't mentioning it, at the moment--that the gods and their representatives were incredibly up-front about their potential selection of one of their dragonkind as Marked. "You can dwell on the ship, but we will take as Marked any we would have taken as Marked were you not upon the ship." Their ancestors had found it a deal.]

I'm no white-robe, but if you liked, I could answer some questions, if you have them? I warn you, I don't know everything, though!

[And the actual white-robes might take umbrage, but Vyrastral cares not a whit for that.]
humeansfox: (Default)

Re: Questions?

[personal profile] humeansfox 2025-08-17 04:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Can a character chose to go on a drop ship mission of a different rank than their class? Hu should be around class 4, but that mission seems largely combat based and she's not built for combat (at least not that dangerous!) so could she chose to help out with the class 0/1 or 2/3 missions?
humeansfox: (Default)

[personal profile] humeansfox 2025-08-17 05:04 pm (UTC)(link)
that's cool, tdm is expected to be less polished and honestly lots of dwrp loves combat!
deathoftheauthor: (;89)

[personal profile] deathoftheauthor 2025-08-17 07:31 pm (UTC)(link)
( Louis turns from his appraisal of the food spread out across the table to regard the stranger speaking to him. The offer is a kind one; everyone here has been kind so far, which is one of the more surprising things about this place. It doesn't make him any happier about being taken somewhere without any say in the matter, but at least he hasn't had to deal with rudeness. )

Thank you.

( His voice is low and gentle, and he gives a slight nod of his head in greeting and acknowledgment. )

I take it, then, that this is no surprise to you?

( The person before him looks human, but Louis knows better than most humans how little that means— after all, he hasn't been human himself in two centuries. Curiously: )

Who are your people, and how did they come to live in such a place as this?
pleple: (but i made my bed)

Ple Two | ZZ Gundam

[personal profile] pleple 2025-08-18 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
NICE TO MEET YOU

Ple Two - her body, albeit sharing a mind with the original Elpeo Ple - passes out aboard the Nahel Argama in the captain's seat, after guiding Judau Ashta's return. It seems, to her, to them, that she'd used the last of her strength, but she was already badly injured enough that at least she'd put her life to good use, before fading...

...and stepping through a doorway. She'd never had any reason to believe in any religion's afterlife, while at the same time having been made quite aware that a Newtype's presence could outlast their flesh and blood. Still, this wasn't like what Elpeo Ple had experienced, from what she gathered, and... and Elpeo Ple was no longer present. There was merely Ple Two, alive, upright, still wearing those yellow pajamas of all things.

At least this was a comfortable... death.

Even while her presence is being explained, the enormous psychic presence at the core of this vessel is very distracting. Still... she gathers that there's some purpose at play here, and, she decides, it's best to play along, for the moment... while watching other people try the food first just in case. It doesn't seem like anyone's dropping dead.

EMERGENCY DEPLOYMENT

-Apocalypse Response

Somehow, she is still here. This is still real. It's not a fantasy her mind would dream up, and she's going back into combat. Of course, a child like Ple Two wasn't forced to deploy, but at the same time, her Qubeley Mk-II was present about the ship, and she knew how to operate any firearm she could physically get her little hands on - and a Newtype's reflexes, as artificial as hers are, are invaluable.

Thus, while most of her fellow Marked drop as infantry, Ple Two deploys in her mobile suit. Nearly nineteen meters and fifty-seven tons of luna titanium armored war machine deploys to Alopolig, and the reduced atmosphere works perfectly for a pilot better suited to space combat; it helps to deal with this pesky gravity, as she deploys her funnels. There's no need for any divine aid - ten remote weapons fan out, and fire a barrage of high-energy particles with superhuman precision. If the aerophages are going to adapt to their attacks, then there's no hesitation - she's got to destroy her targets quickly.

"This unit is not flight capable. Watch your position around my feet," she warns anyone in the vicinity.

-Class X

Compared to the kinetic lance armed troops on the ground, a mobile suit feels like overkill. Even as the aerophages adapt, the size, speed, and power of her Qubeley, and her supernatural sense, make for one of the better sources of straightforward destructive power among the Marked.

So the fact that this situation feels like even a more powerful mobile suit would be at a severe disadvantage is a problem? Between her funnels being shot down and having to recharge in the Qubeley's wing binders, she's glad, at least, that she saved her beam sabers for now. Even still, trying to carve her way through these strange weapons is an uphill battle. "Don't... worry about taking advantage of me being a very large target, if you have to!" ...she's dead, after all.

AN EVENTFUL HORIZON

Well, they somehow came back from that mission without being wiped out entirely.

"No rest for the weary," she mutters, as the situation is explained. Willpower? A newtype - a modified human like herself, a living weapon - should have no issues here.

Right?

Certainly.

Don't mind her falling to her knees as an apocalyptic scene plays out around her.

[ooc: Or throw an idea at me, PM me to talk about scenarios, etc.]
pleple: (Default)

Network

[personal profile] pleple 2025-08-18 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
A demon lord with an out of order netherworld sounds a bit less impressive, but I'm certainly no expert.
pleple: (i ran out of lyrics)

meet you

[personal profile] pleple 2025-08-18 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Would that make you a... local, of sorts?" Ple Two had heard the whole explanation and then waited off to the side - largely just people watching, to get a sense of whatever strange excuse for a reality she'd woken up in.

What her 'afterlife' seemed to be.
badassfreakingoverlord: (the impatiently literary glare)

[personal profile] badassfreakingoverlord 2025-08-18 03:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Sure, that sounds bad in a vacuum! But if I'm at like ten percent, I'm still better than anyone else at a hundred! My mana power's still top of the heap, and that's what counts most!
pleple: (but i made my bed)

[personal profile] pleple 2025-08-18 04:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Could you elaborate on this 'mana'?
badassfreakingoverlord: (so confident and slick)

[personal profile] badassfreakingoverlord 2025-08-18 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Hyaaha ha ha ha ha! You really are the lowest of the low! Mana power is natural at any high level, or even normal level for us demons. It's an absolute measure of power that defines how much your reality triumphs!
starswimming: (Default)

[personal profile] starswimming 2025-08-18 05:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"I suppose?" Vyrastral shrugged at that, though they mulled over the term a bit. "I've been here for around three hundred years, but my kind is a bit more...long-lived."

Though they chuckled at that.

"I can try to answer your questions, if you like? Until we're briefed on a mission, we've got time."
pleple: (u r idiot)

[personal profile] pleple 2025-08-18 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Then I suppose I will have to learn to make use of new powers here after all.
badassfreakingoverlord: (recoil in horror!)

Eventful Horizon

[personal profile] badassfreakingoverlord 2025-08-18 05:49 pm (UTC)(link)
What the hell is this?!

[The weird part isn't that the companion in question is a talking book. Or maybe it is, but that's not the WEIRD part.]

[The weird part is that in front of them, a team of peg-legged, patchwork penguins stand on the opposite side of a volleyball court, glaring at the two of them across, or really underneath, the net. In the back, one of them holds the volleyball, impatiently waiting for the two of them to get ready and receive service.]


This has got to be your fault somehow!!
pleple: (Default)

[personal profile] pleple 2025-08-18 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"Three... hundred..." That seemed about as unreasonable as the rest of this scenario.

She didn't look like she believed it, but, if she were actually alive in an actual real space, the unreasonably massive psychic presence at the core of this vessel suggested a reality beyond her understanding.

"How frequent are missions, then?"

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