open rp post 2017

[saga]

CLOSED to new threads! continue old ones by all means.

Comments

[tousei]

snaps fingers

[hoasen]

OKAY MAKING A BUNCH NOW.

Julius and Vietnam going to an event that requires formal attire.

Vietnam and Julius watch fireworks together.

Vietnam and Julius pretend to be in a relationship for the purpose of an undercover mission.

Vietnam is Julius's hired body guard. (I laughed)

Vietnam and Julius as medieval-fantasy RPG characters archetypes.

[tousei]

WHERE DID ALL OF THESE PROMPTS COME FROM

How about options 1, 3 and 4 all mashed together

[hoasen]

OUR GOOD FRIEND.

and omg lets do it.

vietma'am

[chawanmeowshi]

it says you have a werewolf au, let's do it!!! jungo can be either a werecat or a human who wants to pet a werewolf and feed her chawanmushi or both? we can talk? we can talk

junygo

[hoasen]

AND WE DO!!! and they're both good omg. what if she was discovered somewhere and he took her in to feed her.

[chawanmeowshi]

what is this giant wolf doing running around town, time to CARRY IT LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES and feed it good things

[hoasen]

EXACTLY LIKE...okay I'm doing it.

-----------------

[It is winter, and outside Jungo's store, there is a really cold human girl shivering, wondering if she should come in to--

NEVER MIND MOON JUST CAME OUT SHE'S NOW A WOLF.]

i promised banging

[4th]

but im having trouble with words, will you help a dick out?

do you love me now.

[hoasen]

[It was a day that didn't end as intended. Vietnam isn't know for being able to handle the cold, and yet a cold blizzard tore through the town. The first thing she had to do was find shelter, which is why she's knocked down this door and barged straight into this home. Which is empty and will have a warm bath, I assure you.

Also with her, Munakata, his glasses, and his frozen dick. They'll need to warm it up ASAP.

Seriously now though, she wraps blankets around her, him, and tries to rub his arms better.]

A-are you alright?

always & forever

[4th]

[ It's nothing he's unable to handle, typically, but his powers are fading on a daily basis; he is no longer under the protection of the Slates, so its influence has began creeping away. It's times like these when he's crushed by the utter reality that, yes, he is human after all.

But he isn't bitter about it. The only bitter is the bitter cold, and he thinks, solemnly, how this could have been prevented. Hah, there is no use trying to control what the weather decides. ]

— Yes, I will be fine, thanks to you. [ Idly his hand clasp over hers, feeling her cold, also. ] Never mind me, it will be beneficial to us both if we —

[ Instead of describing it, he inches closer, bringing his arms around her and pulling her close, respectfully. And then, mutter over her shoulder, he says -- ] Please excuse me.

RUNS INTO YOUR ARMS

[hoasen]

[Unlike her, someone who is not. But at the same time, it's rather lonely to be left behind all the time, with every human moving on before here.

However, there is Munakata. And she worries more about him than her own condition. Because she can't stand the cold, that is for certain. But it's not like she'll die--

...Or this. This is also a good plan. He's icy to the touch, but she knows that as soon as they keep hold of each other like this, they will warm up. So she wraps her arms tight around his middle.

She hides her face into his shoulder.]

Forgive me also, for going along with your idea, then.

yo yo yo its ya boi baby prince hissypants

[planecrashes]

[ It's a carefully-arranged storm of consequence and lack of forethought that sees the soles of Joseph's little leather shoes slapping against castle floors to an uneven and stumbling cadence.

Joseph, of course, doesn't remember it. He doesn't even have the faculties to consider remembering it. What's behind him is a blur, a slurry of jumbled sensory memories, flashes of red and the scent of blood and needles in his throat. A cold blackness, a viscous and frozen sludge making dark and solid trails out of his veins. Writhing against stone as his heart pulls to a slow and agonizing stop.

The disease rampaged through his small body, silencing his pulse and stilling his lungs in a brilliant flash of anguish and torment. Just as soon as it reached his body, it had choked the life from him - in such a way that DIO hadn't fully expected him to awaken again, and owing largely to the fact that his father's most successful and convincing adviser has always been himself, he was moments later able to escape the guardsmen his body was entrusted to by tearing one's arm from the socket in one brutish stroke, letting a horrid and piercing screech claw its way out of his throat as he wrenches the limb free.

He drags it by the wrist now, wet blood dragging from the disembodied socket like a snail's trail as he lurches and staggers along, sucking in breath through teeth that don't fit in his mouth anymore, hooking the tips of new claws into the flesh of the appendage painting his trail through the castle's dark hallways. He sniffs the air in full-body lungfuls, animal-like huffs as he snaps his head around.

He stops to do so only for a second, red eyes flashing pink in the limited torchlight, before continuing his desperate reeling forward, swaying on numb legs as he goes. ]

SO LATE BUT HERE I AM

[hoasen]

[Here, an immortal woman explores, having waited for so long during this diplomatic trip. There was something so eerie about this place that she started to feel uneasy, which is something that never happens on any trip. Work is work, there is nothing to fear it.

But it did, and she went on a walk to calm herself down. She never expected her walk to find her stumbling across some shadowy figure in the distance.]

Hello? Is someone there?

[planecrashes]

[ The form in the shadows has stopped a distance away, frozen by the approach of another.

The answer she gets isn't an intelligent one. The shadowy form winks back into the blackness of the hallway as soon as she speaks with a spitting hiss, a wet shuffling of something dragging against stone. Thick, tearing fabric, metal cracking the floor below as a hanged tapestry is torn out of the wall and hauled down. Then, a scream - a short burst of rough sound, high-pitched and wordless... but distinctly young.

His eyes flash only briefly in the night's blackness as he stumbles back, slapping, clumsy steps, raking hard little breaths through clenched teeth. ]

OONZT OONZT FOR IDIOCY

[emotive]

[Lights are flashing. The music is dropping sick bass beats. The walls and floor seem to vibrate because of the intensity of the crowd and the rancorous laughter that fills the air, amplified by liquor and shamelessness. And why wouldn't they be, when on stage there's plenty of rock hard eye candy to ogle and cheer for?

It's a club... A stripper club to be exact. And while everyone who crowds the stage knows exactly what they want, there is one young woman and her companion who may or may not be the same.

Ai is sitting at a table near the wall sipping on some iced lemon water having been too confused by her surroundings to really order any special drinks. She turns to Vietnam and says very seriously.]

I think we got the wrong address.

I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THIS.

[hoasen]

[Vietnam hardly feels fear. And yet here she is, gripping her glass way too tightly that it near cracks. But she stops herself, because she doesn't want to pay for the damages. Yikes.

There's a stripper that's getting very close to them, wearing an officer's cap and all.]

I think we do too--Ai, do not entertain the guest coming towards us! He will demand payment!

[She watched a lot of dramas she knows how this works.]

rip... someone needs to pray for us

[emotive]

Eh? Eh!? What?!

[Ai who has little experience in "da club" much less strip clubs looks back and forth between Vietnam and the stripper who suggestively gyrates his hips at them. Ai freezes like a deer in headlights and thankfully, the man knowing what kind of customers they are, opts to go to the table where there are eager customers waving a generous amount of paper at him.

Ai sighs in relief(?) and tries not to look on stage, covering half of her face with one palm.]

Er... So... Um, what do we do now? I thought this was the address of a good restaurant, but...

...

...

I mean, there has to be a menu right?

[And not a menu of just men!!]

STICKS LEG OUT

[handloader]

[ As far as Archers go, Billy wasn’t exactly the servant you’d want to see being summoned—even the class of Archer was a bit stuffy for someone like him. He had heard whisperings that if he was to be summoned as any class then it should have been as an extra class, Gunner. Yet, here he stood as an archer faced with a moral dilemma that he rarely ever felt bad about experiencing. Actually, he didn’t feeling too bad honestly. He was a servant whose noble phantasm was more the embodiment of his talents as a marksman than any particular weapon.

Something that would have sounded impressive except that it came as a detriment than an advantage. Either way, none of that stuff really mattered since he was standing here with a “toy” gun (rifle) in his hands filled with small colored balls—paintballs—and was told to “gun down” the opposing side. It… That hardly seemed fair. Billy didn’t really care about what was fair or not but— ]

Are you sure? [ The instruction that he was given sort of felt like asking him to hit a stationary target with a pellet gun, honestly. ] Maybe it would be better if I had some sort of handicap?

[ …was arrogance a trait common across all archers? Maybe. ]

[methodically]

[ The details are vague, but that's fine— this is an otome scenario, who's keeping track of logic here?? What's important that this is a reverse-trip situation, a rare case where the bishounen travels through space and time to fall headfirst into the heroine's lap. How embarrassing.

Except... well. After several weeks of being by Vietnam's side, learning the intricacies of modern culture and routinely being fed by her (extremely important), Nagahide has formed the most dangerous element in any otome scenario: An Attachment. His immunity towards women was weak from the start, but kindness in the face of overwhelming confusion is an easy way to get to Nagahide's heart; Vietnam had no reason to help him, after all, and yet... here they are. Still cohabiting.

Here's the thing, though. Being that Vietnam is the only person that Nagahide can rely on, it's only natural that his concerns revolve around her on the regular. Take that and amplify it tenfold, considering that Nagahide has the Forbidden Romantic Feelings for her.

Tonight, he's on edge. It's an hour past the time Vietnam said she'd come home, and he's increasingly getting in his head about the whys and the hows and the whos; did something happen? Is she with someone? Why hasn't she called (not that he really knows how to use the phone he's been given, but still)?

He's poised by the front door when it finally swings open, crowds Vietnam against it when she steps inside. ]

You're late.

[ His voice crawls low, skirting on irritated as he places his elbows on either side of her face. ]

Do you know what time it is?

[hoasen]

[Good old Full House scenario, or something of the life. Vietnam has absolutely no issue helping a someone who dropped into her lap, considering that at first, all seemed rather harmless. After all, she has very little fear, and she couldn't just abandon him. Besides, she's patient, and he's doing his best to learn. Typically, she did her best to accommodate him. A comfortable place to sleep, nice clothes that she created herself, and spent time with him if need be.

However, she works and is also a very busy woman. As such, sometimes meetings run long, as was the case today. Coupled that with traffic, and she was going to be late. Though, knowing that he was home all alone, she did bring home some snacks. Huh, could he eat these? Either way it's rice because I checked the wiki. HAH.

Not that she had a chance to say anything when she was against the door, eyes wide as Nagahide looms over her, trapping her. And even then, she feared nothing. Though she wondered what got him all so worked up.]

It's...[She checks her watch--] I am late by an hour. [It wasn't that long. But, judging from his irritation?]

Were you worried...?

[methodically]

[ It wasn't long. That's categorically true, but just try to take wartime habits out of someone who was born into strife— she won't succeed, not immediately. An hour is half a lifetime when people are constantly after the heads of the people you care about, and an hour is enough for Nagahide to have missed the scent of Vietnam's skin, the warm pulse of her blood under his palm.

He frowns. Combs through the repertoire of things he wants to say, because he has more than one complaint to level at her; where does he start? ]

What do you think?

[ The reply is petty, and he knows it. If he were better with his words, he would dress them in softer terms and speak them gently, but selfishness trumps tact. ]

It's nighttime. A woman like you shouldn't be walking outside alone. [ Blunt, clipped, and slightly awkward. He draws closer, skimming his lips over the outline of Vietnam's jaw. ] ...Or were you with someone else?

you know what this is

[clochafarmore]

[ Lancer is from the Throne of Heroes; summoned to do battle for the sake of the Holy Grail. Or at least that's what he's supposed to do. He's meant to be a servant in a clash of power. Self-interested mages vying for power, seeking to destroy one another. It's not exactly ideal at times, but Cú has his own reasons for wanting the Grail and because of that, he'll serve a master and fight for them. being summoned into the world, into a new era, isn't surprising and as he becomes to come back to himself, awareness floods back in.

There's still a faint veil of smoke clearing from the power of the summoning and Lancer straightens with a low exhale of breath, teeth bared in a smile. ]

So. You're my master, huh?

[ Is that... a woman? Interesting. ]

H E H

[hoasen]

[To start off with, she can explain the weird summoning circle on her floor that looks like she just joined a cult. She's practicing for her sister, Taiwan, who wanted to do some kind of cosplay convention, and she borrowed the circle design from England. But that couldn't just work, right? As far as she knew, she has no magic powers, aside from her natural blessings of enhanced strength and regeneration.

So imagine the look on her face when she stares at the man who stands before her, the smoke dispersing and he straightens to full height. That's right, she stares blankly, at this...stranger who calls her master, right in her lounge room.

And so, like any normal person with any normal reactions, she selects hers from a pool of surprise and picks:]

Excuse me?

[A master? She's what? Did she summon a familiar? Who even summons familiars? Who even knew it was possible? Was she just dreaming all along?

...Is he even real? She tries to touch him, just in case he's a ghost.] Please pardon my forwardness.

[clochafarmore]

[ Wait.

That isn't right. She shouldn't be that surprised. She summoned him. She should be expecting something like this, right? His expression twists in surprise and he blinks down at the (much) smaller woman as she steps forward and reaches out a hand to touch him. He is very solid and real under her hand and he makes a low noise at the back of his throat. A 'tch' that carries across the room. ]

What do you mean, "excuse me"? You summoned me, didn't you? I'm here for a reason, right?

[ This seems suspect. ]