Recent Statuses

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Current *Screams in RP*
3 mos ago
Haha! So many RPs Filling my basket now! I'm so happy!
3 mos ago
Day three of working on character headers! View my post if you are interested in obtaining a free header for any character of your choosing!
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3 mos ago
Free headers are still being accepted! I have three more slots before I close commissions until the next batch! Come get them while they're still here.
3 mos ago
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The three leaves of the clover represents faith, hope, and love.

Within a fourth leaf dwells good luck.

Within a fifth leaf...


Resides a demon.

Most Recent Posts

Level 1 Prisoner - (9/10)
Malaise Counter:
////////// (0/10)

Level 2 Frisk - (17/20)
Word Count: 2371
+4 EXP
Frozen Highlands - Forest Clearing

The Prisoner watched as many of the foes lead by the bigger snowman were being mowed down one by one by blade and arrow alike. He continued to snipe the frosty bad guys from the comfort of the trees as the elven lady and the blonde-haired mystery guy continued the front-line attack. The blonde man he had yet to introduce himself to seemingly held some strength in powers as he summoned plant-life by his own will simply by spreading some sort of dust across the land, then quickly plunging his blade into the chest of the bad snowman. Their attack, with the impromptu assistance of The Prisoner was seemingly going well.

It was then that the other forces held an attack of their own, summoning a wave of snow from atop the mountains to slow the group down. The avalanche threatened to shake the Prisoner out of his hiding spot amongst the bush of the trees as he held on tightly to the unstable branches. His grip loosened, quickly knocking him face first into the snow, feet away from the child who held onto the gun The Prisoner had previously warned about, grunting as he landed directly into the snow. He took a minute to pull himself out of the deep white blanket and pull himself on top.

...Or atleast, the kid was holding the gun.

Maybe the child was unaware of just how much recoil was on the seemingly innocuous rifle. Or perhaps they simply chose to ignore the headless guy's warning. Either way the result was all the same. With a startled yelp, Frisk was forcefully parted from the Alternator. ...Maybe they should just stick to smaller firearms? Once the initial shock passed they kicked a bit of snow at the rifle in frustration. "Useless scrap of metal!!"

At least their friends were having no trouble carrying this fight, including the new guy that they assumed was the one following them.

Cause as it turns out, they'll definitely need the help.

The remaining bad-snowguy remained on the offense, forcing Frisk to evade it's initial waves. They saw the alchemist go in for a fatal stab, all for nothing. Except an avalance of course. The youth visibly tensed up, not sure what to do before it hit them. As much as they wanted to rush over and help free Albedo from the snow baddie's grip, they didn't have enough time. So instead, just as the headless guy fell from his spot in the trees, Frisk hurried over and shielded the both of them from whatever threatened to reach the two.

The Prisoner had managed to pull himself out from the covering of snow as Frisk provided some defense, which gave him ample time to get back up on his feet. If The Prisoner had a face, he'd give the kid who probably saved him from being completely buried in snow a gentle grin, so rather instead he nodded his head and gave them a thumbs up. "Thanks kiddo, guess I owe ya one!" He said in his ghost-like voice.

Frisk in turn grinned back at their new ally. "Thanks for the cover fire." They told him.

The politeness from the small child was enough to convince the Prisoner they were an ally worth fighting alongside. He'd turn towards the gun that the child had lost from the recoil and pick it up to inspect it's craftsmanship for a moment. He'd eye it down for a moment before looking back at the kid. "Mind if I borrow this?" He asked them as he looked down the scope for a moment.

Frisk nodded. It was probably more useful in someone else's hands anyways. They attempted to push the snow that blocked their vision away with both a free hand and their barrier.

The Prisoner examined the field after the snowman's attack to his new teammates, the one blonde alchemist now seemingly trampled by the force of the snow. Seems he'd be out of the fight unless he could pull himself up. The Prisoner aimed the gun directly at the head of the boss snowman, ripping bullets through his frosted skull as he quickly found out the gun shot bursts of flames at the snowman. Perfect.

If he could get closer to the leader snowman, this fight could be over within seconds, reducing the guy to nothing but a puddle by the end. He held on to the gun underneath his arm as he switched to his shield, following in lead with Frisk. "If we can get the snow out of the way, I can get close enough to melt him with this gun, and you can dig your friend out. I'm just out of range to hit him and this thing could do some nasty damage." He looked over for confirmation for his plan of attack.

It took a bit longer for the child to realize what had happened, and dread kicked in quick. Bad Frosty's taunting fell upon deaf ears. Friends were in danger. The headless guy fortunately had a plan, there was just one problem...

Frisk quickly shook their head with a frown. "I can only move so much with this thing up! But I think..." They trailed off, closed eyes turning to the sword that pierced through their adversary. They did have an idea, but brushed it aside with a shake of their head. If they had a hard time with a stupid rifle, trying to fight with an actual sword could also prove difficult. Their shield remained held up to defend them both from incoming attacks.

But the sight of a frying pan on his headless person did catch Frisk's attention. Now that's something they could use! "Think I can borrow that pan of yours?" They asked him. "I can distract him!" And they really need a proper weapon. Good grief.

The Prisoner seemed surprised at the kid's request. They wanted to borrow his frying pan? His trusty frying pan? "Hm, you mean this?" He'd pull the pan off of his hip where it carefully was strapped to his side with a makeshift holster. The pan was dirty and dented inward as well as along the sides. He'd twirl it in his hands before dramatically hugging it goodbye. "Take good care of it." He pointed at Frisk as he began clearing more snow.

Even if their fingers were still numb, Frisk held on tightly to the borrowed weapon. It was worn, but not burnt like the last frying pan they once wielded. Hopefully fighting will be easier with something they're more familiar with. Once they saw an opening, their soul turned back to it's default trait, allowing them to break away in a sprint.

"Kinda cheap using minions to do your job for ya, isn't it?!" Frisk taunted the Bad Frosty to make it attack them instead. They'd remain evasive for now, but if the headless guy was being attacked instead, they'll rush in to strike.

The Prisoner continued to clear a path in the snow, approaching closer and closer as he bashed away more and more of the blanket. They were surprised with the speed of the child as they rushed head first into battle, but the more time they bought for him, the better. He'd get closer and closer as Frisk continued to taunt and toy with the big boss.

Once he got into optimal range, he'd raise the gun up once more so that the fire effect of the weapon would be in closer range of the snowman. "Outta the way kid!!" He shouted as he mounted his shield back on to his back.


Soon as their ally called out, the child dodge-rolled out of way before they got hit with friendly fire.

The Prisoner let the bullets rip the minute Frisk dodged out of the way, as balls of fire flung in the same direction. He'd aim all of his fire on the big bad boss as he chuckled maniacly to himself. "You ain't burying me in no snow!" He'd cease his fire after a decent few shots, preserving the ammunition that was left in it as he kicked at the snowman's chest, putting the gun to his side, switching to his Balanced Blade.

Once they were certain the big boss won't try and hurt them during it, Frisk hurried over to where they assumed Albedo ended up in and frantically tried to dig him out first.

"Albedo?! Albedo, can you hear me?!" The child called out to him. "Please if you can hear me, grab my hand! I'll pull you out!!"

Just don't be dead. Please. They thought.

Frisk dug and dug until the snow drenched their gloves and numbed their fingers. There simply was too much snow, and without any sign suggesting where the alchemist might be, it was difficult to prevent despair from setting in. Any of the seconds passing by, after all, might be the one in which suffocation or hypothermia might finally claim Albedo's life. Not too long after all hope seemed lost, however, the fallen child's hand came to a stop on a frosted flap of familiar material--the alchemist's coat.

Frisk gasped. The growing despair they felt turned into the ever familiar determination. Cold, damp and numbed hands picked up the pace, digging the snow away from the coat before attempting to pull it out, even using the borrowed frying pan like a shovel at one point. And hopefully, it's owner will be pulled out with it.

The Prisoner held his green sword with great zeal as he sliced and chopped away at the snowman, trying to evade his melting blows all the while. "Not so hot now, aren't you?" He said in between swings. "How's it going back there kid?" He shouted behind his shoulder to the kid who disappeared for their own goals.

"I think I found him!!" They shouted back.

"Your friend?" He asked for a moment to look back and see that Frisk was pulling Albedo's coat out of the snow. "On the way." He shouted back before hitting the snowman with a second mighty kick.

He'd take a jump backwards before running back to the area where Frisk had dug out a portion of the alchemist. He'd examine the situation for a minute before grabbing onto the hanging portion of the man's jacket. "We can get him the rest of the way out if we pull at the same time." He nodded to Frisk before mounting his feet into the ground. "One... Two..." He braced himself. "Three!" He began pulling immediately on the count of three. Frisk would follow suit in unison, quietly hoping Linkle was okay too.

They pulled the rest of Albedo's weight out of the snow quickly as The Prisoner tumbled backward. Before anything bad could happen to the crew again, he scooped Albedo into one of his arms as he did the same to Frisk. He'd dash the two away, slightly slugged by the weight of a man and a child as he carried them back to the clearing near the beginning of the forest. He'd set Albedo down on the cold ground and Frisk on their feet.

"Thanks again." They said to him, once they were set back down. For now, they shrugged off their coat, and draped it over the Alchemist. Hopefully it'll warm him up, at least a little. Speaking of, they cupped their hands over their mouth to try and warm them up themselves. "I'm Frisk." The youth decided to go ahead and introduce themself.

The Prisoner seemed slightly confused with himself. Did he have a name??? Surely he did if he lived at one point, but he surely didn't remember it. He scratched his chin for a moment. "Well, I don't exactly know my own name as crazy as that sounds..." He thought for a moment. Had he really never thought about what his own name was? Well, guess he could always make one up on the fly.

"Call me Prisoner. Best I can do for myself, unfortunately. It's a pleasure to meet you, Frisk." He extended his hand for a casual handshake for the child, the skin on his fingers clearly rotting. "Err, maybe don't shake my hand." He added.

The fallen child only rose their brows in response. "You're undead too!"

...Which concidering the lack of a head, makes sense now. They tilted their head to the Alchemist. "This is Albedo," Then looked back to see if Linkle was still around. "Aaand Linkle will hopefully pop up at some point. She's something called a Skullgirl. We were on our way to this city pass that mountain over there." Frisk pointed to Dragonspine.

"I guess. Usually I'm a big old disgusting ball of disease." He told Frisk. "I just live in whoever's body doesn't have a head on it. Sorta like free living." He joked.

He looked up at the tower atop the mountain, which scaled in size to any small dungeon he was forced to crawl through. New opportunities arose. He nodded in thought as his eyes scouted the mountain from afar. This surely could be more entertaining. "Well, if you guys need a plus one, I'd be more than happy. I've been stuck in those ruins back there for a while now." He stated.

Frisk smiled, twirling the worn frying pan in their hand before handing it back to him. "After this? It'd be good to have you on board with us, Prisoner."

"Know what kid, why don't you hang on to that pan. Doubt a kid like you has a whole lotta protection." He'd gently push the pan back into their hands before giving them a thumbs up.

Level 4-

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (19/40)
Word Count: 521
+1 EXP
Sandswept Sky - Middle of Nowhere

Raiden strolled along side the group at a modest pace, keeping up with their steps while also saving his stamina from being further exhausted. It started to seem like they were beginning to trek an endless hike through the deathly desert, their only source of cool being a blast of momentary cool air. Keeping his composure, Raiden heard the voice of the small impish woman. "Raiden. Good to put a name to your face." He said nodding as she explained the world they now found themselves in.

He turned his attention to the ball of light he had previously assumed was simply the sun, but now looking at it, noticed many issues with this belief. "That explains all the little sombrero folk back at town..." He said, now clearly able to think for himself. "Is this guy really this strong that he was able to influence my free will? Hah, and I thought America was good at doing that." He joked to himself as he strode.

"So we have nine of... things... like that left in the world? God, I think I'll be due a cold, stiff drink after all that." He took a minute of silence to consider his options. Should he join this ragtag team of heroes? Or should he return to town to further search for purpose now that he knows the nature of the world? "Consider me included. I will be the blade that fights for justice in this world." He placed a hand on his chest as he spoke.


The pack travelled for a while in the same direction towards what Raiden had believed was the general direction of civilization before the small engineer called for a "Moogle", which had explained that they could be rescued, but it could take an indefinite amount of time. Sighing quietly, the cyborg knew he was in for the long haul. All he could do was wait with the crew and try his best to help out.

Sectonia, the queenly bee Raiden had met earlier had mentioned the creation of a temporary campsite. "I ain't got much for building, food, or supplies, but if anyone needs to charge anything I can spare some electricity." He offered to the crew before watching as Sectonia created large magnificent structures of crystals to serve as a temporary home base. She than suggested to him that introductions were finally in order.

"Right. My name is Raiden. I was a government mercenary, but that road's been past me for a better year or two now." He gently took off, folded, and sat his poncho down onto the sand, placing his sombrero on top. "I'm already acquainted with the Queen Sectonia, as you saw from the assistance she lent me in our combination attack, however many of you are unfamiliar faces to me." He planted himself neatly next to his Mexican attire as he adjusted the bandage covering his eye to be better snug in place.

"I wish to join your ranks. No human, monster, or cyborg should have to be a puppet. I've felt this feeling before, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else."

Bumparoni! Still taking these folks!

Level 1-

|||||||||| (5/10)
Word Count: 1315
Frozen Highlands - Snowy Forest

Malaise Counter:
////////// (1/10)

Slinking across the shadows of the snowy woods was where the Prisoner was sure he was the safest from the sights of the company of three, however, he couldn't help but have a gut wrenching feeling that they had assumed he were following them. Realistically, he was never a body of stealth, as his entire gimmick was crawling inside of headless corpses to deal with his immobility as a mass of flesh-crawling disease. Surely, he had to have stepped on a branch or two, or dashed slightly just out of the shadows, making him visible... However, none of that seemed right. One of them knows he's there, The Prisoner doesn't know how, but the small, Elven looking girl looked as if she knew about him before the other two did.

Dashing from tree to tree, The Prisoner tried to keep his wits about him regardless if his "spy mission" was foiled or not as he continued to leap to the best of his abilities through the wild brush. Hey! This was actually kinda fun! Without the constant imminent threat of forcing to revive, The Prisoner was actually able to enjoy himself as he leaped peacefully through the decaying tree of cold. Snow was... pretty nice! Watching as the snowflakes fell peacefully between the pines, The Prisoner had nearly forgotten he was following a small gang of three from their flank. As the elven lady spoke to his amidst the clearing to her companions, the Prisoner's worst fears were realized. Somehow, he knew that she knew that he was there. Was it intuition? Mostly. But her glanced behind and around her were key enough to clue in his guess.

Suddenly, to the Prisoner's luck, another unfortunate event took place. As he was getting into the mojo of swinging through and about trees and bushes, there became a very obvious lack of trees in the near future. Not noticing this, The Prisoner slipped a few steps out before quickly tucking his tail between his legs and hiding between a tree and a bush, which provided his rotting body just enough coverage to peak around and scope the new surroundings.

For one thing, the clearing had opened up much wider into an entire section for the crew to explore, snow padding across still as far as the eye can see. Picking at his pockets and dangling accessories, he pulled out his bow and kept an arrow knocked just for good measure. There were icy rivers as well, sure to turn The Prisoner into an undead popsicle if he slipped downward. He watched the waves of the hill change up and down as snow layered each and every new spectacle the Prisoner saw. He was about ready to pop from excitement purely from just the new scenery. He shook his thoughts from his empty head as he considered the next step of exploring the snowy landscape. That was until, he realized he had completely lost the crew of three from eye sight.

Now having lost his impromptu guide, he cusped his hands together, temporarily setting the bow and arrow to his side to form a pair of fake binoculars so that he could search for them. It seems in his gallivanting in the snow, he had ended up a few paces away from where they were. They had only been a decent few meters away, as the funnel that the pathway they good opened up to had diverged the tree path The Prisoner had taken. He watched as they set a sled down and began talking about the oddly shaped square snowmen who had seemed to make themselves comfortable in the area, along with many other snowy fiends, along with the larger snowman who looked crooked as all get out.

It seemed, despite his attempts at keeping a close perimeter checked, one of the smaller snowmen donning an icy crown had discovered where he had been hiding. Hearing the noise of approaching snow shuffling The Prisoner quickly grabbed the bow and arrow, quickly bringing the weapon to the middle of the small creatures eyes. Ready to release, The Prisoner kept a dead stance and "stoic" expression as it suddenly stood dead in its tracks, seemingly quaking in fear. In it's defense, the Prisoner was nearly double it's height, and also threatened it's very livelihood, so he naturally felt bad. Relaxing his aim, he took one hand off the bow and arrow to pat the creature on it's sort-of shoulder. "Sorry little fella. Didn't mean to 'shpook' ya." He said purposefully making the spook sound silly, as if attempting to comfort the little snowman.

Letting down his guard for this seemingly innocent creature was a poor idea, because as soon as he stood to watch over the three again, the small snowman rammed right into him, definitely freezing part of his already frozen, undead leg. Feeling the pain of sudden frost-inflicted damage, and as a result, the Prisoner became upset, quickly loosing his cool. "Oh! You slippery little..." He'd provide a swift kick directly to the main segment of the snowman, shoving him back a few feet. "Bitch!" He growled in unison with the attack. He then quickly pulled his bow's string back, arrow in formation to pierce the poor creature directly between the eyes as he had originally intended to hit.

Sighing in frustration, the Prisoner realized the issue with this serious of attacks. First, he had kicked the small snowman back far enough for the small group to see. Second the thud of the impact the snowman made was loud enough any skilled hunter could hear it. Third: The whistling sound of his air flying through the air is surely a familiar sound to these travelers. Surely, he had been found out now, not to mention his foul tongue which scolded the snowman was certainly in earshot.

They definitely knew they were being followed.

The three had found themselves in a fire-match with the snowball slinging snowmen being the primary threats. As they battled their way out of the icy threats, The Prisoner couldn't help but feel an odd sense of guilt. While they were out there dealing with monsters, he was too busy twiddling his thumbs thinking of ways to mask up the obvious sounds of a stalker.

Then it came to him. An idea to both temporarily mask himself and provide cover fire for the crew. Taking his Balanced blade out from the sheath adorned on his back, he used it to barbarically climb up a tree without any actual tools. Masterfully balancing himself atop the cold branches, he took aim with his bow and arrows, sniping out some of he slowly encroaching enemies as both the elven lady and blonde, robed boy clearly took interest in the big bad of the area. Apparently the child had a gun as well. Hm. He didn't like that. He didn't know why, but some part of his brain told him that kids and guns do not mix well together.

As they fired the gun, he took it upon himself to talk to them. "Hey, uh, kid. Up here, weird guy with the misty head and rotting corpse. Yep." Said an ethereal voice shrouded by the branches of trees, still sniping enemies with his bow as he acknowledged Frisk, watching them through his peripherals. "Do you know how to use that thing? Cuz if not, I'd advise against it, m'kay? Thing doesn't look very lightweight." He said, masking the idea of not liking a kid with a gun. "I mean, hey, don't let the random stranger in the tree tell you what to do, just giving you some advise." He shrugged.

He'd continue his long distance work, trying to knock out enemies one by one, hoping he could, at the very least, establish some friendly barriers between the two. It wasn't much, but hey, cover fire is cover fire.

Level 4-

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (18/40)
Word Count: 1154
+32 EXP
Sandswept Sky - Gunner Train: End of Red Eye Boss Fight

Raiden continued to fight from the grounds as his companions continued their downward descent, providing cover for their eventual attack. Many of his companions had opted to either stay in the air and give clear a path for the final assault, or took it to themselves to attempt their own attack. Raiden continued his decimation of the flying Trilids around him, providing backup and ground support for his allies. Raiden, being the closest ally to the exposed weak spot of the Red Eye, readied his sword to chain his attack from flying enemies to the large core which the flying Akrids had attempted to defend into a clean vertical strike which bled it of the Thermal Energy it had, leaving it exposed for his friends. After leaping backward from the leaking wound, Raiden looked upwards to his slow falling teammates. "Now's your shot guys!"

Seeing as many of the enemies have now been dealt with by the combined efforts of Raiden and many of his sky bound companions, Raiden now turned his gaze towards the sky as many of his teammates had worked together to charge towards and prepared their own attacks. Lucky to have rolled away in the knick of time, a comet of ice created by the rabbit lady Raiden had known, pierced the large monster further into the skew of girders and metal was followed quickly by a torrent of attacks from Big Band. Met right after was Tora and Poppi who came crashing into Raiden's general direction, attacking the core of the large Akrid. However the assault wasn't ended until after the Phantom Thieves finished off Red Eye's final weak point as it was ripped to further shreds by final attacks. The fight had seemingly come to a conclusion.

As the giant creature that was sentenced to death in his metal prison had begun to turn to ash, Raiden's theory had been confirmed. Yes, the fight was finally over. Drawing a quick breath, Raiden sheathed the large red blade into it's home as he rolled his neck. As his visor snapped open, he manually switched his pain numbing abilities back on, flipping his Jack the Ripper persona back of. As Big Band gave a short congrats to the team after arriving back on foot, Raiden looked to the man. "So that's it? We beat 'im?" He asked, ready to move on.

It was in between conversation, however, when Raiden felt something change within him. Not only had the stress of battle come to an end, but as if some strings were cut off a marionette, Raiden felt freed from some greater grasp of evil. His body, which he hadn't even realized was engulfed in a shadowy effect, had begun to fade and his once ominous gleaming red eyes (which were not from his Ripper Mode capabilities) had faded back to just a regular, dull grey, a sign that he had regained his humanity. Rubbing his head, now confused, he looked to his new allies. "The hell was that?... That felt really weird..." He asked, looking to his teammates for answers.

The fight was long and tiring and it was midway through Raiden exhaustedly readjusting his Mexican garbs that he remembered something. His blade had gone flying off somewhere into the desert. Slightly upset by this minor inconvenience, Raiden grumbled under his breath as he realized he would have to begin combing through the surface of the sands to find it.

His thoughts were interrupted by his new companion who mentioned that the spirit of something or another was immune to being crushed. Confused, he turned his head toward the fleshly defeated body of the Red Eye, which now had something translucent gently wavering out of it's corpse. A spirit... Raiden thought to himself, now realizing what Tora had called out to the crew about.

It was then that a lone woman came floating down to greet them. She explained that in order to keep the giant Red Eye dead, someone would have to fuse with it, which Raiden did not entirely feel up to doing, nor did he particularly have experience in as well. Raiden watched as a young man had taken initiative to deal with the spirit, and cleanly dealt with it by turning it into a sort of summonable entity. Raiden was still flabbergasted by magic and otherworldly powers, but if it meant the situation was dealt with, then it was of no major concern to him.

It was also dreadfully hot, and Raiden was lucky to have Poppi alongside his team. She managed to keep him and many of his other new friends cool for the time being.

Now laid the matter of his missing sword. Raiden had gotten so distracted he had nearly forgotten about the blade which had been flung with their flight upward. "You guys go on ahead. I'll be behind you." Walking away from the wonderful cool air, Raiden maid his way backwards and began his search nearby the bottomless hole they had been spat from moments ago.

Surely as many of the crew had begun trudging towards wherever their next destination was, Raiden had continued to comb the sands of the desert, looking for anything that resembled a sword. Through his search, he made sure the crew he had just fought the Red Eye with was still in eye sight of him. He had just met the folks, didn't want to lose new companions already. After searching for what seemed to be miles upon miles of sand, Raiden was just about to give up hope and turn tail to meet with the rest of the gang. It was then he saw to his left a silver glint in the midday sun. He quickly ran to the source and managed to pick up his blade. Gripping the sheath on his back, he lined the blade with it's proper place as he sheathed it back up. Solves that issue... He thought to himself.

Turning back towards the now fading group, Raiden played catch up as he activated what little electric powers he had left and ran towards the group. Getting in practice with running had been a useful asset, allowing Raiden to remember his VR training he had undergone with The Doktor.

The same notification which came up earlier when he was able to trigger his pain inhibitors, now notified Raiden that he could access his previous collection of VR trainings. "The hell happened to me?... So many things are missing, and I'm just now noticing..." He whispered to himself as he activated his Ninja Run. While faster than his regular sprint, it sure did get him more tired. He quickly caught up to the gang, exhausted from running such a far distance and climbing up a decent amount. "Sorry... Dropped something." He said shrugging nonchalantly as he enjoyed the fresh change of air, returning to the general area of Poppi.

Testing Room

Direct mentions: World, Forever King - @Mintz, Terra - @Dead Cruiser, Red Maw - @Atlantic, Cyrus - @Randomness,

Asta watched as the young hero placed her hand onto the terminal, speaking to him as she did so. "Mhm, everything is built off of magic, even our technology! My ability is weird though, like I said, I don't technically have any magic." Asta scratched at his chin for a moment as he though about his abilities. "Think of magic like water and I'm a sponge... I don't have magic, but my ability acts as something that absorbs it." He nodded at his explanation, thinking it could make enough sense to the girl. "Though, yeah there are a lot of people who use their magic for bad things so I joined a team of wizards to fight those bad guys!" He did some air punches to simulate him fighting "bad guys".

For a minute, the panel seemed to register Terra's palm as it spoke her name and absorbed some of the wind around them, to present a decent sized portal. "Woah! There's some portal here! Man, where's Finral when stuff like this happens." He blurted seeing the mysterious void appearing in the room. Almost immediately, an arm began to emerge, followed suit by a man wearing a menacing suit of silver and black armor. He certainly had a presence about him!

"Asta..." He said introducing himself to the man who came from wherever the other side of the portal was. "Nice to meetcha, Forever King, sir." He said, watching him bow, before returning the gesture. "Miss Terra here knows more than I do. All this space stuff kinda makes my brain all fuzzy." He rubbed his head, slightly embarrassed but truthful in his tone.

It took a decent moment before a large robotic dinosaur crept through the portal, seemingly following The Forever King, as if being pulled by an imaginary leash of command. Asta severly doubted the creature could be of magical origin, and saw him as another interdimensional entity, whatever that ended up meaning. A drop of sweat dripped down his brow as he watched the large dinosaur-ic creature bring it's attention to him. "Heh... Uh, nice machine monster..." Asta said spoken through a nervously gritted smile. Yeah, this thing was scary.

"You said there was more of your guys? How many guys are left though? I don't know if you counted your metal friend as an ally, but if he is, cool!" Asta looked around the mans body, looking to see if anyone was concealed by his presence. After seeing no one else had been behind him, on cue another man followed through.

He was a tall brooding, stoic man with steely blue hair and an emblem embroidered on his breast. He held a terrifying presence himself as well as his compatriots. Asta turned his attention back to Terra as the newcomer questioned them. "Well, it seems we have been sent here by some magical force, yeah, or some technology none of us understand yet... We have some pals dealing with it in a room filled with screens... Hope they're getting more info outta it..."

"I'm Asta and this is my new buddy Terra! Nice to meetcha too Cyrus." He thought for a moment as he stared back at the portal. "Y'know, now that I think about it, where did you guys come from? Obviously the portal, but what was on the other side? Are there anymore of your friends on the other side?" He asked, his head cocked to the side.

The Prisoner

Level 1-

|||||||||| (2/10)
Word Count: 1191
+2 EXP
Frozen Highlands - Ruins Dungeon

Malaise Counter:
////////// (0/10)

Yet another day The Prisoner had perished, forcing himself to find another corpse to serve as his vessel. Lucky for him, there seemed to be decent amounts of beheaded corpses down in the dark, damp corridors of the dungeon he resided in. Crawling into the hollowed body of the corpse, the vines of the malaise crawling into every corner of the body allowing him to take control of it. Clenching his fists tight, he forced his ethereal head to appear over the beheaded area.

He had no choice but to make it to the end of it as he had always done, in an attempt to slay the king and change the cycle yet again. However, The Prisoner had not noticed one crucial detail with this dungeon that was abnormal. This was not his dungeon and he did not know that.

As he sprinted through the corridors of the large underground ruins, he did however, manage to find multiple common undead enemies such as zombies, archers, and bone golems of sorts, which he removed of by thwacking them in the head with his metal frying pan. There was plenty of enemies to kill and if there was good loot to find amongst the darkness, it took no particular interest to The Prisoner, as he was happy with the weapons he had currently.

It was within a few hours of traversing the dungeon that The Prisoner had come across a larger golem enemy, clearly guarding what was assumed to be a next area of the dankness. A trapdoor. As he rapidly approached the beast. it quickly roared to life, a rush of wind blocking both exits and entrances alike. That trapdoor was what he needed to shoot for. Keeping his frying pan and shield handy, The Prisoner dropped a Wolf Trap in his rush, rolling underneath the Concierge with grace as he quickly picked himself back up. He quickly landed multiple blows with his frying pan to the golem as it enraged and released a red forcefield around. Knowing that this could damage him should he get to close, The Prisoner dodged backwards as he waited for the effect to wear off.

As soon as the field went down, The Concierge prepared to strike The Prisoner with a direct jab. Before the blow could land, The Prisoner swung his shield into the attack, parrying the attacker backwards, stumbling directly into the Wolf Trap, which clamped into the leg of the Concierge, forcing him to be stuck in place. Pan in hand, he repeatedly struck down the Concierge with slams until it was able to free itself, prompting The Prisoner to yet again perform a roll behind him, chucking a grenade into his behind. To The Prisoner's surprise, this was enough to beat the familiar foe, reducing him to nothing but rocky rubble, and then slowly fading to ash. As if commanded, the doors which had slammed shut, now came open.

There was no loot to be collected from this familiar boss, yet The Prisoner saw no fault to this. His trusty Vorpan had served him well before, so why should he abandon it now? Now headed to the trapdoor parallel to his view, he approached it, climbed up the ladder, and was greeted by a collapsed room which had leaked light through the room. Amazed to see that he had seemingly found a way out, The Prisoner suddenly began searching for the first-most exit he could find. There was a small crack in the wall to his left, which he managed to adjust some rubble to enable easier access through. When he was no longer able to move the large rocks, he forced his body through the tight wall, the bones of the original corpse surely dislocating as he pressed through.

Once he made it through to the other side of the wall, he was blinded by the sight of white snow. Snow... The Prisoner had never seen snow before. He watched as flakes gently floated by his face, curious as to which part of the dungeon he could possibly be in now, only to realize something. The sky was empty, and there was land as far as the eye could see.

He was not in a dungeon. This was the outside world. Not a hellscape of piled up bodies and flying soot and ash, but rather fresh air, snow, and blankets of white. He didn't know what to do with the new land he had found... There was so much new terrain to discover, and most importantly, the freedom to be his own person...


The days had begun to pass by and The Prisoner was lucky it was as cold as it was, otherwise he might as well be dead yet again, but it seemed the cold had temporarily held off the spread of the Malaise within his body. The lifeless man had made camp within the ruins he had found outside the dungeon, complete with a simple pile of snow for bedding and a fire, which had begun to thaw the cold limbs of The Prisoner. Sure, cold and warm meant nothing to him, but it was a nice thought regardless, which is why he got pissed when some passerby began desecrating the wild life nearby. One of them was clad in silver and gold. If it weren't for his size, the man would have made a great vessel.

They seemed to use some sort of dark magic, though The Prisoner had no clue of the validity of this thought, to keep the animal carcasses alive long enough to produce food. Even the Prisoner was familiar with the ashen death of every creature and human alike in this world. He decided he could watch them closely for the time being (or as long as he could keep interest).

It was after a bit longer that even more travelers had made their way to the entrance of the ruins. Specifically a young man, a young lady, and a child, who followed behind the group. I'm lucky. They haven't seen me yet... He thought to himself. He reached for a weapon, now that the thought of strangers crossing his tuff came across his mind. He equipped his green Balanced Blade, holding it at the ready as he eavesdropped on their conversation.

What the power had been described as was golden, so perhaps his theory on dark magic was overruled... Yet, he knew that something was fishy about this whole ordeal. Scratching at his chin, he watched as just as quickly as the new crew had arrived, they began parting. Yep. Something was definitely off. The new group seemed uncertain about these... magic users, and now that they gave The Prisoner that vibe, he felt the need to follow suit.

As they began to pace away, The Prisoner quickly and scrappily packed up his belongings before snuffing out his embers and making way to the woods adjacent to the crew. He'd be keeping his distance as he watched the travelers quietly from the shadows of the pines. He kept and snuck along each and every tree, trying his best to avoid being seen.

Level 2-

|||||||||||||||||||| (36/20)
(holding at 20)
Word Count: 883
+4 EXP
Sandswept Sky - Gunner Train

Raiden was lucky to have arrived at the body of the train in time, should he have been a second later, the headbutt which ultimately ripped off the back end of the train sure would have brought his life to an ultimate conclusion. Luckily then he still held on to his sanity, but upon unlocking his ability to feel pain, he became controlled by his insatiable bloodlust. His persona, Jack the Ripper, had been allowed to fuel Raiden.

Raiden nearly tumbled over at the force of the headbutt, however he managed to keep his footing due to his naturally heavier metal body, but it still managed to knock a few more screws loose in the cyborg's brain. As he rattled, he looked back at the large sand-trekking serpent with spite. "You lousy piece of shit..." He growled under his breath, his anger towards the creature boiling now that his bloodlust lead his blade.

As the rest of his team had gathered their composure, Raiden kept to his mysterious persona, when he offered assistance to the now knocked over Big Band on the lower platform, as neither of the parties the conductor had requested had made it before Raiden. "Up you go, big guy. Got more danger to deal with and we don't need to lose any firepower." He'd help to hoist the man back on his feet, when suddenly a new change of events had caught Raiden's eye as he stood on the lower platform.

The Red Eye had rapidly been gaining on the train and there was little for Raiden to do besides prepare mentally for the worst. "Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!" He shouted as it continued to close the gap between the two. It was then that Raiden was able to witness something that he never would have seen on any regular day. The ultimate sacrifice: a final smash.

Raiden had no idea such a final power existed in the world. Something that was so strong, yet so mystical. A power that was able to save the crew from total annihilation from the sand worm, as they closer and closer approached the hole ahead. But it came with the man fading to light, possibly forever.

For Raiden, there was no time to share sentiments with the woman he had left behind, though there was some sorrow for her loss. It did seem that he was gone with his noble act.

As they crossed over the seemingly bottomless pit, Raiden felt his heart jump as the cannon fired again into the creature, the sound of the cannon roaring as the shell the train crew had worked so hard to load finally met contact with Red Eye. Raiden grinned devilishly as it broke into the creature, when suddenly something changed. The tracks below the train had suddenly fallen into the endless void below, before being pushed high up into the sky with the rest of the crew, his blade flying out of his hand to god knows where. He'd have to look for that later.

As the crew reached the apex of their short flight, Raiden was surprised to find that none of the crew had became splattered across the hot desert sands, due to the efforts of the rabbit lady that had previously met Raiden. His weight however made it slightly difficult to descend as slowly as some of the others, making him fall at a slightly elevated pace compared to his companions. He shouted as he fell slightly faster towards the desert floor.

He managed to land more elegantly then his descent had initially been, dropping to the floor in a super-hero landing as he grumbled. "Why the fuck does this bastard have to make things more difficult..." It took a moment for the rest of the crew to arrive along side Raiden as the sand around him began to fade back to the scorching desert flooring. Raiden's visor came back to life as he scoped the tangled mass the serpent had become amongst the girders and other metal scraps. The crew were in the end game.

As some members of the gang began diving straight towards what was obviously the final spot they should be aiming for, Raiden, being a short range fighter, decided it be best he provide cover for those attacking yet again. As a few of the members began diving and weaving towards the final pressure point on Red Eye, Raiden searched the nearby terrain for his missing sword, with no avail. Time for plan B. Drawing the red sword equipped to his hip, he began dashing across the sand, falling behind Tora and Poppi as they closed in more and more. Whatever attack they and the others were executing, Raiden was more than glad to split a few insects in the process.

He began to quickly begin making work of each Akrid in a nearby radius of him as he hacked and slashed with his Ripper Mode, as the blood splattered his blade and metal, he became more and more ravenous for their deaths, chopping away more and more. "Get in there guys! It's now or never!" He gave the crew a demented grin as he sliced at more of the oncoming threats. "Show this fucker what you guys are made of! I'll cut down his support."

+ Level Up!

Level 2-

|||||||||||||||||||| (34/20)
(holding at 20)
Word Count: 333
+2 EXP
Sandswept Sky - Gunner Train

Hearing the waves of the crew cheer for Raiden gave him the motivation he needed to press forward with the attack. The only issue was that there was very little for Raiden to do, except for maybe attempt to help the gunners and other members of the crew deal with the Akrid that was now chasing them from the tail of the train. He had no idea where they were heading, though he was happy at least the conductor and other members were going to be familiar with the upcoming scenery. He never really ventured out of Tostarena Town and didn't know what to expect. Introductions were desperately in order after this whole ordeal was dealt with.

After seeing some of the other gunners attempted to blind the large monster as they loaded a final round, Raiden remembered something. He had a wide variety of flashbangs on his person. He waved off those cheering politely. "We can celebrate later, for now let's just get this fucker 6 feet below!" He told the makeshift crew as he fled to the back of the train, unclipping two flashbangs from his waist that he hurled directly at the eyes of the Red Eye chasing the train. There's no way it could do too much, but if it distracts it for a few seconds, that was more time for the crew to gather their bearings and load the shell.

Equipping his final two flashbang grenades, he performed the same maneuver as he lobbed the explosives through the air. After they landed, he quickly headed back to the main body of the ship. Once he arrived he heard a noise which resembled a codec call from one of the Maverick systems. Examining his closed advisor, he noticed a blaring notification:

Pain Inhibitors can now be disabled manually.

With this he sighed. "Well, things are about to get interesting." His eyes shimmered red as he prepared for the next wave of fighting.

"Time for Jack, to let 'er rip!!!"
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