The PPC Roleplay Board - Latest posts

Sometimes it is a gradual process, others it is a moment of inspiration or enlightenment. I take some comfort in the fact that you could never hate me as much as I do.

Nickul decided it wasn't worth it to pursue, so he looked for something else he could help. He noticed that his own partner's former partner, Ajax, as well as his partner, Matthew, Fighting two girls an a knight, so he thought he should help the duo.

He'd seen his fair share of horror--he was, after all, a Civil War veteran--but the sight of an immense clown cresting a high jump, silhouetted by fluorescent lights and dripping blood and orange juice was new to him. He scrambled to the side, towing a dazed Alleb and wondering why his day had gone so horribly, horribly wrong.

((-Alleb))

-Highlighting. -Bolding the username, though that might clash with find-the-current-post. -Changing link or username colour, though frankly that wouldn't stand out to me. -Larger font, but I suspect that'll mess with the general structure of the place.

I'd be inclined to one of the first two options. What I don't think would work is a tag; there's enough of those already, and I'm pretty much ignoring them at this point. Alarm-flood.

hS

EDIT: I'm leaving the list 'broken' to point out that, well, it's broken. Each -'d point was written on a consecutive line. ~hS

((I know, it's cheeky of me, but I couldn't let the gag slide. Sorry, Lily. ~hS))

And batted a few of the jugs aside. A few, but by no means all of them, and one of them was full of orange juice. This was the one that, of course, hit her in the face. So, when she turned back to face the two prone agents, her face was twisted in pain. Blood and orange juice was trickling down her face, mixing with her makeup and dripping thickly from her bright red nose. She looked like she was melting.

This, of course, was why she then threw herself skywards for a belly flop.

However, Navare didn't engage again. If Nickul wanted to continue their fight, he'd have to find him amidst the general mayhem.

...and stupid is not one of them. As he was approaching the wall, he had an arm reaching out. As he touched the wall he pulled his had back, shaking it. From what he had heard from his partner, Levy, he had inferred that Nanoha!magic might have been working Clarke's Third Law, so a blast of electricity might short the shield out. Might.

Unfortunately for the dragonborn, Kabupatenic-style spells are, as a rule, designed to take out much stronger opponents, so even Navare's B-ranked collection-type Bombardment spell packed quite a punch; unless Nickul's endurance was a hundred times greater than a normal person's, he was likely to be out for the count (and blown off his feet, if he lost traction).

(( Can't believe I didn't think of that earlier. Any ideas on what a good "own posts" style would be? ))

..."And I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve", but that would be demonstrably untrue. coughNotarycough Still. Yeah, I would kind of like to get to know everyone else better, I just don't really know where to start.

She smiled at the woman that threw it. "Yeah, no."

She chucked the fruit at the man next to her opponent, blocking his Stunner. She then grabbed her hockey stick and rushed at the woman with an overhead slam.

"Looks like the ladies are havin' fun," William said, popping a cigarette in his mouth. He snapped his fingers, making it catch fire. "Come on mate, don't keep me waitin'."

I've grown to rely on my posts remaining "unread" for the purposes of keeping track of things. I miss that here.

Also, a little more space or something to offset the post you're currently reading would be nice. When I look at a post in this thread, my eyes tend to latch onto SeaTurtle's original post before the one I'm trying to read, and I'm guessing it's because of the big white space between the reply/watch/return buttons and the OP content. I'm adjusting slowly, but I thought I'd mention it anyway.

~Neshomeh

I do okay on missions. I'm DMS-Freelance, with a specialisation in fantasy (what, you thought I worked sci-fi?); the Flowers have developed a liking for keeping me without a partner and sending me in as a solo specialist when other departments need one. I don't like to write up what're really their missions, so I leave it to them.

... which, now I come to look, means there aren't any reports with me in them. I guess all my partners have been of the don't-like-writing variety.

But yeah, I do okay. Haven't gotten myself killed yet, at least. My biggest disaster was probably ducking through a wardrobe at the wrong time and spending sixty-odd years in Narnia before my partner followed me through (long story), but hey, Time Lady, I can cope with that.

But he didn't dwell on that fact. He had dragon scales, though past experience told him it would be dangerous. He pushed the thought to the back of his head, and attempted to walk through the ring.

D'you know the US Field Artillery March? Do you play it sometimes in the middle of the night?

It's good to know that someone can do something.

I don't remember much about the Invasion right now. The doctors tell me I hit my head pretty hard and fell into the fountain. I do remember some things, though; running and hiding, mostly. We never saw them coming. Then we spent years fighting and hiding. Always hiding. We couldn't leave. No way out. We lost so many.

I don't remember you, Gaspard, I'm sorry. I don't know if you were with us, or if you died, or if you... I hope you got out and that you're still out there somewhere. It'd be nice to know that someone got out.

And he recoiled, but the cast was done; a veritable multitude of energy beams split from the ball gathering before the rifle's barrel, lancing at everything in a five-metre circle around Nickul. They were instant and covered all conceivable avenues of retreat.
Navare, his Barrier Jacket still smoking from the electricity, took the option to roll out of sight behind an upturned table.

...The Hexagon appearing under his opponent's feet, and rapidly shot of some electricity, intending to interrupt the casting.

She used her forearms as imperfect bucklers, deflecting or breaking them. For a moment, she was grinning: The sixth plate, however, caught her in the shoulder. She grunted, thrown off balance, and the next barrage slammed into her, each plate finding its mark. The final one shattered against her forehead--knights of Alleble have hard skulls--and she groaned, dizzy. She didn't see the table coming.

Jesse, however, did. He had managed to raise himself on one elbow, and when he saw Wobbles grabbing the table, he yanked on Alleb's leg, sending her crashing to the ground. The table whistled harmlessly overhead. Jesse felt accomplished for a moment.

And then there were water jugs flying through the air.

((-Alleb))

Whenever somebody mentions payment, it's a runnin' joke for everybody to be shocked that any of us is gettin' any sort o' money here.

Trust me, you'd remember it if it was the case. Just check the series who created them.