Egomania: An Absurd Anime-Inspired Action RP! - Chapter 1- (Closed, Started)

Recommended Videos

Deu Sex

New member
Aug 26, 2012
366
0
0
Name: Avon Charles aka Funky Charles

Age: Forever 21 :p

Sex: Male

Profession: Disco/Kung-Fu performer for hire.

Appearance: Charles sticks out in a crowd like a sore thumb. He stands at 6'0" but looks much taller thanks to his platform shoes and oversized afro. He has black skin, black hair, brown eyes and a thick moustache. He usually wears a red leisure suit with a tacky zebra-pattern shirt, the top two buttons of which are always undone. Charles also has a gold chain with the kanji character for macho around his neck, several cheap rings and a pair of recently acquired shades. There is a comb constantly stuck in his afro.

Charles carries himself proudly, unashamed of his cheesy looks. He doesn't walk so much as he shuffles - sliding his feet along the floor and bobbing his head as though he's in a constant groove.

Personality: Hotheaded and hotblooded, Funky Charles is easy to get fired up. He's very passionate, especially in regards to his interests like martial arts and music. He's also the determined sort who works hard and rarely backs down from a challenge. Though strong-willed, Charles lacks wisdom and often makes rash decisions that he regrets.

You wouldn't guess it from his appearance, but Charles is very serious. Almost comically so. He treats any matter great or trivial with the genuine austerity, usually to the amusement of others. He considers himself an honourable person and would refuse to do something he feels is morally wrong.

Charles' appreciation for music extends beyond disco, to most varieties of funk or dance music. The only genre that he truly despises is rap. He has a strong knowledge on body movements, rhythm and language due to studying both funk and martial arts. He often likes peppering his sentences with gratuitous Japanese words.

Funky Charles' story begins in the humble American village of Los Angeles. As a boy, Charles grew up an ideal and peaceful life. His father, Maurice Charles, was an old-school Disco dancer respected throughout the community. Although the art of Disco had been dying in recent years, Charles Sr. continued to grace local clubs and bars with his presence. He was looked up to in awe by both the people of LA and his son.

But that all changed when the rappers attacked. Hip-hop, a dark art and derivative form of funk, had been spreading across America for decades. By the mid-90's it dominated the music scene from coast to coast. One day a group of rappers called the Wang Warriors came to a club Charles Sr. was performing at; one of the last spiritual strongholds of disco left in California. The group's leader, JZA, challenged him to a duel for rights to play at the club. Charles Sr. accepted.

Thus began a musical battle still referred to by the people of LA as "the funkiest jam-off of the late-90's". Charles Sr. managed to win the singing portion of their duel by the skin of teeth, but it was during the dancing portion that tragedy struck. JZA unleashed a hidden technique known as breakdancing and struck Charles Sr. in the leg with a reverse helicopter kick, shattering his funkybone and preventing him from ever dancing again.

The Wang Warriors took over the club and purged disco from the westcoast. Charles Sr. was so ashamed of his defeat that he exiled himself and his family to Japan. He was actually planning on exiling himself to Alaska, but accidentally got on the wrong plane and ended up in Osaka. His family ended up having such a wonderful time though that they decided to stay.

Avon Charles was traumatized by the event. For years he had nightmares about his father's duel with JZA; how easily the rapper ended to his disco career with a single kick. The young Charles became consumed by revenge. He vowed to one day return to America, defeat JZA and bring honour back to his family name.

Over the years, Charles had a rather ordinary childhood. He learned Japanese and attending school in Osaka as was expected of him. He often attempt to start fights with the local school-yard delinquents, as practice for his future duel with JZA, but could never actually land one. Whenever he busted out a boombox and started boogying, the delinquents just assumed he was joking and would walk off laughing at him. Charles started asking his father for Disco lessons, who was happy to oblige until he found out his son's motivation. Charles Sr. then refused to teach his son Disco in fear of history repeating itself.

Charles realized he wasn't going to get any closer to avenging his family at this rate. After graduating from school, he decided to boogie across Japan in search of enlightenment. He needed to find something, anything that could help realize his true potential. It was in Tokyo that he discovered this thing. While passing the city's infamous Kamurocho district, he witnessed two shirtless yakuzas with flaming tattoos performing spinning kicks and bone-breaking throws on each other. While an ordinary sight for the locals, Charles was in awe by the amazing feats of power.

After the battle, he approached the victorious yakuza and inquired about his fighting technique. Charles was told to visit the Ramasama Dojo if he too wanted to learn martial arts. He did so, and approached the dojo's master known only as "The Most Fired-Up Guy with the Strongest and Most Unbreakable Back". Charles begged the master to let him study martial arts in his dojo, telling his father's tragic downfall and his desire for revenge. The Most Fired-Up Guy with the Strongest and Most Unbreakable Back was entertained by both Charles' story and his determination, and so allowed him to train as his pupil.

Charles trained tirelessly for years at the Ramasama Dojo. His sensei taught him many techniques, such as Jujutsu and Karate. Soon Charles began integrating these martial arts with Disco dancing, creating a new school of musical combat that he dubbed Kung-Funky. He later dubbed himself Funky Charles and set off to practice his newfound technique. He went around Tokyo making a name for himself in karaoke clubs - challenging local J-pop artists and musically-inclined yakuzas to heated dance-offs. Although he lost many of these battles, each defeat fuelled Charles' motivation for revenge and allowed him to refine his Kung-Funky.

It was on his 21st birthday that something truly bizarre happened. A magnificent, fellow America man known as Tyrone suddenly appeared in Kamurocho before Charles. He was awed by the godlike swag of Tyrone and bowed before the man, who told him of Boss City and the swagosphere. Charles believed it to be no coincidence that he was being invited back to America's westcoast. Without a second thought, Charles obeyed Tyrone's letter and took the fastest plane back to his homeland. Charles hopes not only to prove himself in the upcoming Ultra Spectacular Mega Showdown Battle Royale Extravaganza, but to encounter JZA once more and fulfil his vendetta.

Motif/Quirk: If disco is dead, then he's a necromancer.

Open for feedback.
 

ProtoChimp

New member
Feb 8, 2010
2,236
0
0
Name: Wolfgang Hammersmith (his real name is actually super lame but to the world he is Wolfgang Hammersmith bitches!)

Age: Forever 21 :p

Sex: Too manly to comprehend

Profession: Aspiring Professional Wrestler

Appearance: Hearing his appearance a thousand times on the mic before he comes out to rock an all star crowd with his dazzling moves, Wolfgang has perfected his image. Weighing in at 340 lbs, standing at 6"2, Wolfgang has "the look" all wrestling executives want to see. Huge, musclebound looking steroid junkies-except Wolfgang doesn't use shortcuts! He says no to drugs and works hard for his image, just like he tells the kids. With massive wide shoulders he is an easy target, but that's if you can get out of his grasp at all. He sports 30 inch biceps and 24 inch calves, with muscles seeming to stack across his arms, legs and chest, even his neck bulges with muscles that almost make him seem alien. He... isn't an attractive man. What with a jaw so strong and sticking out so far it could cut marble and a skull so thick tank shells have been known to bounce off with little effect (or so the rumours say.) Despite this, he has beautiful sparkling blue eyes and strong cheekbones that... he looks strong, you get it.

Wolfgang only ever really seems to be showing two kinds of facial expressions: a big dumb goofy smile, or strong willed manly determination of manliness. His hair doesn't confine itself by just one colour. Some say when he was born when the doctor delivering him was blinded by his rainbow coloured locks. Lone spiky hair that defies any form of physics, dozens of strands showing every colour of the light spectrum, shooting off in different directions.

He sports an assortment of vibrantly coloured tank tops to contain his torso along with matching camo pants, and to top it all off some striped silly looking purple and white boots. Wolfgang speaks english but with a heavy German accent to his words, yet he avoids slang as much as he can, not wanting silly words to get in the way of his true message! What that message is? He never gives an answer that makes any sense. He walks like a robot, a funky robot. His movements are static like a machine, yet his moves are so full of jazz that none can resists his charm (or so he says) as he dances his way to the ring with a definitive 80s groove. His wrestling moves however are a different story. His moves are brutal, swift, and he announces each attack like a raging bull as he slams his opponent all over the place. His stances are ridiculous and over dramatic and seeks to entertain as he fights, the mark of a true professional wrestler.

Personality: Wolfgang is a man. A manly man. A manly man who likes manly things and strives to be a man. He has an interest in all things big and strong, guns, women, men, cars, big bulging packages (of model planes in the mail), yet despite this he is a man of some subtlety. As much as he enjoys wrasslin' with the best of them, grappling his opponents in all sorts of intimate ways in order to achieve victory, he also enjoys crafting furniture and painting model aeroplanes which he builds himself.

Despite his brutality in the ring and his refusal to pull any punches, Wolfgang believes in Justice. Every one of his fights he sends a message to the kids. "Stay in school! Say no to drugs! And don't take no guff from no fool with an attitude!" Yet despite his messages, he has been known to cheat in the ring (sshhh) for victory is king. Also, he is a terrible flirt. Awful just downright awful, and despite a vague opinion on sexuality no one has ever actually seen him with a partner. He just laughs and says "Bitches just cramp my groove."

With his aim in life to be as large and manly as possible, one sure-fire way to piss Wolfgang off is to call him a 'boy', or weak, or that he is small. And when he is pissed? He absolutely loses himself, all attempts at tact or class go out the window as he unleashes the Hammersmith on those fools.

He also speaks in the third person, all the time, never stopping despite people literally screaming at him to stop being so fucking annoying. Wolfgang calls it his special brand of charisma.

Biography: Some say Wolfgang was born a scrawny git. Some people also be fucking liars! Listen to Wolfgang tell his tale and he'll let you know he was born so big and tough he was the heavyweight champion of his nursery. Wolfgang will tell you he was the king of pre-school, primary school and his highschool if he didn't decide to drop out by the age of 15, deciding to sack off writing scribbles on paper in favour of learning the way of the wrestler! Obsessed with the sport at an early age Wolfgang trained with the best there was, the best there is, and the best there ever will be-excluding Wolfgang of course.

However, Wolfgang never stayed with the same trainer for long. Despite his passion for fighting and wrestling, and especially the entertainment side of things, he failed to realise that professional wrestling was indeed a show. He didn't realise that not every move needed to cause the maximum amount of pain, and that indeed he needed to lose matches for the show. He took this as corruption within the sport, and strived to earn victory and crush his opponents in the ring.

Wolfgang has since gained a terrible reputation in the UK, as he keeps hurting his fellow wrestlers in matches as if it were a real competition. After a ladder match in which he was supposed to lose, Wolfgang Powerbombed his opponent off the top of a 20ft ladder, down and through the ring, sending out a shockwave so fierce it blew everybody out of their seats!

He didn't get paid that night.

It was then he was approached by the golden God, the man with the plan and a style to boot! Wolfgang thought him a new opponent-better yet, he could be his new manager! A man of a manger managing a manly man of a wrestler! Together they would be unstoppable!

Now disillusioned with the losers of the UK, Wolfgang travels on his 21st birthday to the land of the free and the home of the brave, hoping for real fights, real matches, and to find a people with honour who don't disgrace the sport he loves so much (though when ask why he doesn't do 'real' wrestling such as the Olympians, he completely misunderstands the question, thinking it is all real).

Motif/Quirk: Obsessed with pro wrestling and constantly quotes iconic matches as if they were great wars.

Probably too big, probably not detailed enough-or maybe too much detail I'm not sure. He is meant to be irritating, I don't wanna make him seem like some sort of self insert character considering he's a huge wrestler and I'm a scrawny nerd :p
 

Fappy

\[T]/
Jan 4, 2010
12,010
0
41
Country
United States
Deu Sex said:
Fappy said:
Deu Sex said:
Feedback: I like it so far, but the bio is arguably the most important part. Get to it! :p
Finished. Sorry it took so long. Also, I HOPE YOU LIKE LOTSA READING.
It did not disappoint XD

Another Update: I'm thinking I may close recruitment next Monday, March 31st. That should be more than enough time for others who are interested to submit sheets. Once recruitment closes I'll post the accepted sheets that night and we can start the RP on April 1st.
 

Malbourne

Ari!
Sep 4, 2013
1,183
0
0
Wow, there's a bunch of people here. But I saw a list titled "Awesome, over-the-top fighting" and included Kill la Kill (oh), Jojo (my), Durarara!! (I should watch that at some point), and Gurren Lagann (gawsh). My sheet compelled me. I had to stick it in this thread.

Name: Catherine Ray

Age: Forever 21 :D

Sex: Female

Profession: Salesman of sorts

Appearance: Black skin, dark brown hair in a short, frenetic mess. She proudly sports the square shades reminiscent of television screens, a fashionable gray hoodie with her store's circular television screen logo, and jeans one size too large for her diminutive, 5-foot frame. She strides rather than walks (not an impressive act for her stature), often with a quick or hurried pace. When she converses, she makes wild gestures as though the words she uses are too slow or insufficient to get a point across. Much like the heroes of the shows she adored as a child, she makes flamboyant poses when pleased. Many of her mannerisms ooze inspiration from action, mystery, and drama presentations. Cat is usually seen sporting a cheery expression, at least until she gets frustrated and her smile is replaced by a childish frown. She'll spend a great deal of her downtime working on gadgets, particularly small electronics.

Personality: Bubbly, enthusiastic, energetic. These are all qualities Cathy adopted from the barrage of television she grew up with. She's liable to talk a friend's ear off and still have said nothing important. All of her outward energy undermines the good intentions she bears towards those she likes: namely, people who share a passion for expressiveness, earnestness, and above all, a flair for showmanship.

Her philosophy of morality was lifted from the scripts of well-intentioned action writers. She oozes naivete. Her simplified outlook on life and matters of society don't do much for forming flexible opinions, so she can appear stubborn when she doesn't get her way. She can come across as overly confident, brash, and uncompromising, if only because she never has anybody around to correct her mistakes. At the end of it all, though, she dedicates herself to doing "good." What that entails is still up in the air, but she knows she'll protect the people she likes as much as she can and overcome the ones she doesn't.

Biography: Many years ago, the eclectic inventor and owner of the Ruby Ray store, Theodore Ray, married a frail but charming woman and had a child, Catherine. The mother died giving birth, unfortunately, but the child survived and grew up in the store along with her industrious father. Ever since she could appreciate the moving pictures of film, Cat was entranced by the countless worlds television had to offer her. She fell in love with the wildly exaggerated characters paraded before her, the colorful and flashy scenes, the brilliantly humorous or touching stories they had to tell. Even the commercials possessed a charming, contained world of their own.

She idolized her parents' business of manufacturing and selling archaic television, so much so that she spent the majority of her life learning about machines where her father tinkered with the old equipment. Gradually she began to mimic the style and mannerisms of the characters portrayed in her programs, and in spite of her introversion, Theodore tried to teach her how to be expressive. When she turned eight she was put in charge of managing the storefront and selling products so that Theodore could spend more time fixing and building. The decreasing popularity of Ruby Ray's catalog concerned Catherine, and she mirrored the salesmanship of the commercials she'd watched in order to push televisions onto customers. Cat became emboldened by the success she had and began to see potential in the heartening effects of television on its viewers.

A couple of years later her father visited his wife's grave in a raging storm. He caught sick and became bedridden. For several weeks the only company he had was one of the televisions propped on the bedside table and his daughter's company. As Cat watched their favorite programs with increasing melancholy, Theodore insisted she continue to smile. And then a new innovation in the electrical grid of the city all but shut down the programming of Ruby Ray's television sets. Customers bought the televisions more for sentimental reasons than for the joy the programming delivered. Cat slowly began to hate selling products that no longer delivered knee-slapping comedies or tear-jerking romances.

Now that they could no longer watch television together without spending an arm and a leg on a brand new system, Theodore and Cat had to think of another way to entertain themselves in their spare time. Her father suggested they try acting out their favorite scenes, a notion Cat wholeheartedly accepted. For several months she spent her day cleaning the store and managing the inventory while her father continued to resurrect dead sets and her night pantomiming old television programs. After she finished, tired but happy, her father always clapped his hands. They would talk then, and every time he would remind her of the importance of optimism. There would be no joy behind comedy shows nor sadness behind tragedies if they weren't created by people with the will to entertain.

And then, just like that, Cat found herself alone. Theodore had forgotten to applaud her most recent performance. She initially assumed he'd fallen asleep, but he wasn't snoring loudly like he'd always done. The realization that she'd lost her father came gradually, but she wasn't overly surprised by it. As a matter of fact, she found she'd almost expected it. Her father was quietly buried in the local cemetery and, overnight, Catherine became the proprietor of the Ruby Ray storefront.

Her selection of merchandise wasn't popular, but it was expanding. She moved on from the ancient sets her father crafted in favor of peripherals and accessories she thought would make people happier as well as flashy advertisements meant to draw in crowds rather than individuals. After seeing the rapid pace of technological advancement, Cat began thinking of how the virtual world of television and other media were gradually engulfing everyday life. Though just one woman with few resources at her disposal besides cheer and charm, she decided she wanted to do everything in her power to send entertainment all over the world. To her, the signals that connected individuals to one another provided the knowledge and people to confront all manner of problems. When a handsome man with brilliant shades arrived with a unique offer, she saw the chance to connect everybody to the virtual reality and eagerly took it.

Motif/Quirk: She frequently acts like a television star, with exaggerated mannerisms and speech patterns evocative of cartoon shows. And much like any good television show, she seeks to entertain.
 
Jun 26, 2009
7,508
0
0
Due to the nature of the character, I'm creating two character sheets for them. One for everyone to see from the start and the other (which I will sent to Fappy) hidden until later, should I be accepted.

Name: Mr. Rei, real name unknown

Age: 21 ... Probably

Sex: Male. It seems.

Profession: None apparent

Appearance: Mr. Rei covers up many of his features. He stands at an average height, with an average build, and though the upper half of his covered by a masked made up of cloth wrappings it is possible to see that his eyes are green in colour- So long as he doesn't wear his sunglasses over said mask, which he often does. He tends to wears hoodies, typically black or dark blue, with the hood always up (if he can help it), covering what appears to be black hair. On his hands he wears thick brown gloves, dark-coloured trousers and a pair of brown boots on his feet. A notable feature of his outfit is a long yellow scarf, wrapped around his neck once and left dangling down his back to blow in the wind.

Mr. Rei always keeps his head low and always stands in areas that seem out of the way but are quite visible, seemingly not caring if people spot him or not despite going out of his way to reach such positions. He has a particular tendency to stand on rooftops, looking down with his arms crossed. Mr. Rei has a deep voice that seems to emulate his mysterious nature... Although it tends to disappear when he's taken by surprise, or in other occasions.

Personality: In one word, mysterious. Mr. Rei seems to do his very best to make sure people don't know much about him, from hiding his features to never telling people his 'real' name or where he comes from. Sometimes he leaves hints here and there, just enough to hook people in and make them wonder, but he never tells the full story, and even sometimes says contradictory things about himself.

It's never clear what Mr. Rei wants, although he does seem to often give cryptic advice to people. In fact, generally he speaks in a cryptic fashion. Some might call it pretentious the way he talks, purposefully not showing any commitment to one way or another ever. Always "maybe" and "perhaps"- Never "definitely" or "undoubtedly". Whenever you think you've figured him out he goes and does something that throws your theories about him out of the window. Always. Almost as if he specifically does it so that no one figures him out, whatever it is they could find out that way.

It?s almost as if he has no goal. But everyone has a goal, right? The only thing that seems for sure is that he always seems to be in thought, although as to what he thinks on no one can say. Perhaps he broods on his unknown goal, and about how he might achieve it, but who knows but he himself?

Biography: Mr. Rei came into being when the person underneath his mask was approached by Tyrone McNamminus and given the chance to be part of the 'Ultra Spectacular Mega Showdown Battle Royale Extravaganza'. The reasons as to why he decided to take up such a persona are unclear, though he doesn't appear to be anyone famous or who would be noticed missing.

What kind of person would want to hide who they were? For now, only the man himself knows.

Motif/Quirk: Mr. Rei keeps as much as he can about himself a mystery, unpredictable and unknowable- With a noticeable and fittingly deep voice to go with it.
 

Fappy

\[T]/
Jan 4, 2010
12,010
0
41
Country
United States
Friendly reminder: Recruitment closes at the end of the day tomorrow!

If you still want to submit a sheet get to it!
 

Blue C Jeffrey

New member
Mar 27, 2014
35
0
0
I'm kind of excited to see the character progression as the whole progresses, but I'm most excited to see things blow apart into nothing and people going out of their way to be outrageous.

I still have a lot to cover, but I'll be sure to get it done by the end of the day.

Name: Henry "Hank" McKilton, Jr.

Age: Forever 21 :p

Sex: Male

Profession: Part-time steakhouse server

Appearance: This Caucasian dude stands at over six feet, four inches, tall but with an extremely scrawny frame. His body shape looks closer to a skeleton or an ambitious model than the average human being. His mat of brown hair is often covered by a baseball cap or a tan rancher hat, but strains of hair poke out to cover his brown eyes. Outside of his work uniform, he prefers to wear a tanned leather overcoat with a red-striped plaid shirt. He is never seen without wearing loose blue jeans with a loose belt around it, a big gold star tacked on the front. Boots are also mandatory in his eyes, especially the ones with spurs.

He consciously sits, stands, and moves in a laid-back and relaxed manner, attempting to emulate all the cool cowboys in the movies. He will lean back onto things, rest his foot on something while sitting, and generally act all cool. However, he also carries an air of nervousness. Slight things like a little twitching and wandering eyes sometimes ruin whatever atmosphere he's trying to create. Other than projected appearances, he moves quite energetic when he gets emotional which is quite easy to achieve. By energetic, I mean slightly crazed and mad.

Personality: In public, he acts like a two-dimensional "cool cowboy." He will act out inner fantasies by being chivalrous, friendly, and relaxed. He never openly talks about other hobbies, only about what he perceives cowboys do in their free-time. That is horse-riding, target practicing, gun cleaning, horseshoe tossing, tobacco chewing, America loving, and government hating. He will repeat the same lines with a fabricated gruff voice.

In private, (WIP)

Biography: (WIP)

Motif/Quirk: Stereotypical Old Western cowboy obsessed with being an idealized hero. Yee-haw!
 

Fappy

\[T]/
Jan 4, 2010
12,010
0
41
Country
United States
And recruitment is officially closed (in 35 minutes)! Tomorrow morning I will announce who all has been accepted, update the OP and send Skype invites out. Once that is done, I will write up the opening post of the RP.

Thank you to everyone who submitted sheets and good luck!
 

Fappy

\[T]/
Jan 4, 2010
12,010
0
41
Country
United States
[HEADING=1]Recruitment is Officially Closed![/HEADING]​

Accepted Sheets:

Fappy - Ellie Blythe (GM)
Daystar - Renee Fleur (Co-GM)
Doge - Lucius Edward Felix Athelstan Elder, The Third, Esquire (Co-GM)
Deu Sex - Funky Charles
Protochimp - Wolfgang Hammersmith
Fallen-Angel Risen-Demon - Mr. Rei
Terrantina - Polly Jean Walker
Funslinger - The Spine
Malbourne - Catherine Ray
Arcanist - Michigan Smith

Thank you everyone for your submissions! Sorry if you didn't make it in. I ended up accepting two more sheets than I was intending to >.>

From here I will need everyone's Skype names so I can invite you to the OOC group chat. Expect a PM from me soon!
 

Fappy

\[T]/
Jan 4, 2010
12,010
0
41
Country
United States
[HEADING=1]Egomania - Chapter 1: The Shades of Destiny[/HEADING]​

It t'was a peaceful, painfully average day in the bustling metropolis known as Boss City. To some, this stagnant sense of mediocrity was due for a wake up call. For on this day the young ones would appear and the city would hear their cry! And the world would see their spirit!

On this day, their egos would be born!

The five mysteriously figures stood at attention atop the "KRUNK Daily" news tower in the center of downtown. None of them spoke to each other as they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, all sporting sunglasses of various designs. What were they staring at? The sun? The sky? Nothing?


Then, suddenly, the clouds above began to part and the entire electromagnetic spectrum poured out into the sky, tumbling like folds of linen against the roof of the building. A fabulous black man, with his arms stretched out to his sides, descended from the heavens above. His open, white button-down shirt and slacks fluttered in the wind as the turbulent winds kissed his rock-hard abs, sly grin and bare feet. Like a titan, his shadow towered over the five figures, obscuring their features entirely, even after he had landed before them. The mysterious light remained but was now muted.

After a few moments he lowered his head to see the figures and opened his eyes. His grin remained as he pressed his middle finger against the rim of his shutter sunglasses to secure them in place, "You're all here. I'm flattered, really."

"You are in command." One of the figures replied.

Tyrone shrugged, "Yeah, well that's never stopped y'all before now. Anyway," He struck a dramatic pose in the blink of an eye; stepping forward, he bent his knees and held his hand out before him. A green... no blue... NO purple, flame erupted in the palm of his hand and was extinguished just as soon as it had appeared. All of those present gasped in awe once the smoke settled. In his hand now was what appeared to be nothing more than a normal pair of plastic 90's style sunglasses. Nothing special.

Right?

"Listen well my illustrious associates: we have ten new candidates vying for this most auspicious of artifacts! It is our job to see which one of them possesses the will to wield such almighty power! This, THIS, seemingly ordinary pair of sunglasses is anything but!"

Oh.

Another one of the figures reeled back in shock, "You can't mean..."

"Yes! YES!" Tyrone laughed as he held the sunglasses up higher. "These are the Shades of Destiny!" He studied his associates for a moment before snapping the sunglasses shut and sticking them in his pocket. "I will deliver them to whomever seems the least likely and we'll see what happens from there."

One of the figures stepped forward, finally revealing herself as she approached the light. She wore a tight-fitting suit and skirt, thin and sleek sunglasses, kept her blonde hair up in a bun and held a yardstick in her hands, "What are the rules of this game, McNamminus!?"

"Always so formal, Tabitha---"

"That's Ms. Fiddleton to you!" She corrected.

"Fine, fine," He dismissed her as he walked over to the ledge of the building and looked over the side. "We've got ten kids out there just now entering the city. We only need one of them, right? Well, here's the deal: whichever one of them can possess the Shades of Destiny for twenty-four hours straight wins."

Tabitha looked taken aback, "B-b-but what if they put them on!?! They risk---"

"I'm aware of the risks, Ms. Fiddleton!" He leered at her from over his shoulder. "We don't know what these shades are capable of. Hell, we don't even know whose ego they originally possessed. If one of them dons them, well, they'll certainly overload."

"A swag overload of that magnitude could wipe us all out!" Tabitha shouted as she balled her hands into fists.

"Maybe," He chuckled. "But, you know, we're out of time. We need to do this now or it's never going to happen at all. I'll take the fall if this all goes to hell."

"You had better!"

He turned to face the group assembled before him. His expression hardened, "You should also be aware that he's here." Another chorus of gasps received him. "Keep all four eyes open. You understand?" All of the figures nodded. "Good. Now go on out there and get a taste of the new blood."

Seconds later, Tyrone was alone on the rooftop.

A sly grin crept onto his face as he turned back to look at the city below, "Time to shake things up."

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************

The coast-to-coast bus ride had been a long one, but Ellie was thankful to finally be out of that stuffy tin-can. She had come prepared at least and brought two full packs of batteries for her MP3 player. The melodies of a hundred different metal, punk and classic rock bands kept her company during the long exodus. Despite her relief, she now found herself... directionless. Where did she go from here? What should she do? The instructions were bare bones are best and she didn't even have a place to stay.

Good job, Ellie. Pro planning.

Throwing her duffle bag over one shoulder she started down the street, away from the bus station. Then, suddenly, it was pouring rain.

Fucking perfect.

Her hands stuffed in her hoodie pockets, she bit the bullet and trudged on through the spontaneous typhoon until she reach midtown. Completely drenched, she crouched down on the sidewalk, under the protection of someone's apartment balcony and lit up a cigarette. Figuring she'd just wait it out, she put on her headphones, quickly drowning out the sounds of the bustling city around her. She watched as cars and pedestrians sped on by, a look of profound disinterest painted on her apathetic face.

After taking an especially long drag of her cigarette, she sighed, "This blows."
 

ProtoChimp

New member
Feb 8, 2010
2,236
0
0
Passengers clapped and cheered as the plane landed on the runway, a bit of a bumpy ride and some turbulence, Wolfgang was tempted to piledrive the pilot, but then he'd have to swim to Boss city. A plane crash couldn't kill him, a man so manly could only die by the touch of God!

Others were leaving the plane single file. Wolfgang had no time for that shit. Grabbing his bustling overloaded luggage (which he somehow managed to fit into one bag despite it gyrating from the overflow) that he had 'convinced' the flight attendants to keep on his person as hand luggage, Wolfgang leapt up, punching a hole through the plane and ascending into the air, landing just outside of the airport entrance.

"Fuck customs! Wolfgang lands in Boss city bitches!"
 
Dec 14, 2009
15,526
0
0

"Merde." Renée mumbled. The rain had come from nowhere, the very thought of getting her hair wet! No, one must not think of such horrible things! Rummaging through her handbag she quickly retrieved her compact umbrella, with a flourish she twirled the handle in her hand, holding it above her head. Flicking the switch, the rainbow canopy of the umbrella erupted overhead, quickly protecting her from the vile rain.

"This weather, bah." The girl shook her head as she continued to stroll through the streets of Boss City, her cherry blossom scarf waving gently behind her.

Rain. Rain had been done to death, everyone painted rain. Oh! So sad, so many emotions! Renée spat at the rain. Not literally of course, she was a lady after all.

The girl had been walking the city for most of the day, getting her bearings. She wasn't sure why, the invitation given to her by the intoxicating black man, it had no address! No directions! How was she to even know where this 'Ultra Spectacular Mega Showdown Battle Royale Extravaganza' was taking place?

Better yet, what the hell was a 'Ultra Spectacular Mega Showdown Battle Royale Extravaganza'?! So many questions! If only she could find the strange man who invited her here! Maybe then, he'd let her paint him.

Such a specimen, he deserved to be on canvas! As she thought of the myriad of ways she could paint him, the poses! The magnificent poses! The very thought of such things passed over her vision, like a conveyor belt of pure masculinity.

"Oui, oui, oui..." The young woman murmured to herself happily, her vision abruptly clearing as she stepped in a puddle. "Agh, non!" She began to angrily sling around all manner of vulgarities, both in English and French, before something caught her eyes.

A figure, sitting on the street, under a balcony, such a pathetic looking soul, the angles, the dull contrast between the rain and the small spark of the cigarette, the plume of smoke. The angst! It was perfect!

"You! Mademoiselle! You there, the miserable woman-child." She waved her hand wildly to catch the attention of her newest muse. Headphones, so she couldn't hear, no matter!

With a flourish, she produced a large easel and canvas from her bag, ignoring the basic laws of physics. Physics? Bah, she was an artist! Renée spat at science. Not literally, of course. She was a lady after all.

"Très bien!" The girl proclaimed as she produced her paints from the very same bag.

"The aaaaaaangst!" She murmured happily as she began her latest piece, her umbrella managing to protect both her and her canvas.
 

Dogmatic99

New member
Jun 24, 2012
914
0
0

"You know it was awfully kind of you to bring me along with you on this adventure of yours, Sir. I have so indeed wanted to see these metropolitan cities of the Americas. Why they tell me that this Boss City, as the locals call it, is even more more of a jewel than dear old New York. Why my dear brother brought us back some wonderful gifts from there after his visit, for the children you understand. I suppose I shall have to do the same for him. Oh how my children would have loved this place, were they still alive, Sir. Indeed, Sir, yourself and your family have been so kind since their passing, Sir. My dear wife and I-"

Blah, blah, blah, blah. The could drone on for France should they ever find themselves in need of extra help. Lucius had given up on even half listening as Winthrop, butler number three, had prattled on and on since they'd left the airport. The young gentleman stared glumly out the window of his private car. Midst all the rain and gloom of towering skyscrapers the city did have a certain charm. bright umbrellas and neon signs burst out of the grey like proud peacocks and pedestrians scurried about, trying to avoid the downpour. They even had those yellow taxis that Lucius had seen on the television.

Absentmindedly, he twisted the handles of his freshly acquired spitfire sunglasses. The drive would have been soothing if he'd been alone in the back and had some room to stretch out.

"They say the theatre scene in Boss City is-"

"Good lord, Winthrop!" Lucius sighed. "Did your children die of boredom? That seems to be how you're trying to do me in." Lucius cut him off curtly.

"No sir." Winthrop shrank back meekly. "They were crushed the day that fabulous black man caved in the town house roof as you may recall. I'm not sure... you were rather busy that day."

"Ah yes... the fabulous black man." Lucius looked off into the middle distance, misty eyed with reminiscence.

Who could forget the day that a fabulous black man blasted through several floors of the restored Edwardian terrace house they'd bought themselves for a St Georges day treat? That heavenly glow, his ethereal aura. That feeling that had come over Lucius. As if he'd been plunged head first into a pool of liquid night and gripping daylight. He had been offered a glimpse at a world forged in purest glory. And this! Was his chance! To claim it for his own! No one else! His brothers could look on in awe as Lucius claimed his rightful place and rose to new heights of respect and renown! In years to come when he had been made the patriarch of the Elder family when he was old and looking back on these events, he would remember that day. As the day it all started!

Oh and how a bunch of his staff were gruesomely crushed.

But this was no time to dwell on flattened commoners! They had arrived at the hotel and the car was pulling up Lucius stepped out into the rain, an umbrella was already opened and waiting for him as he stepped out the door. Lucius strode into the lobby of the Fifth Season Hotel, bone dry.

"I'll be having the penthouse suite." He called over to the receptionist as a train of staff followed after him, carrying his luggage and straining under the weight of Lucius' baggage.

"Umm it's already booked up." They called over to him uncertainly, edging about as they tried to decide if they should follow after Lucius or not.

"That wont be a problem, I bought the hotel in advance." As if on cue (because it was) a red carpet and tapestries were unfurled across the lobby and a ladder with attached handyman slid into view attaching the Elder family crest to the lobby balcony. Trumpets and fanfare sounded throughout the building, fireworks burst out and emblazoned the Union Jack over the Boss City skyline, god save the queen was on the lips of every street busker. And just to be sure a tiny UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT sign went up in the front window of the Fifth Season hotel.

"Outstanding." Lucius smirked to himself.
 

Terratina.

RIP Escapist RP Board
May 24, 2012
2,105
0
0
The road sigh read: Boss City, clear as day.

That was the first thing Polly Jean Walker saw as she woke from her nap, being . Those bright white letters entered her head as soon as she lifted the baseball cap out of her eyes. Hopefully, the weather wasn't a sign of things to come - good thing she packed an umbrella.

Overpreparation was the name of the day, everything from sunscreen to a map of Boss City had been stuffed into her rucksack. Polly tried not to stumble as she exited the coach, the weigh of said rucksack was pulling her back. Of course, she did stumble right onto the sidewalk. Just her goddamn luck.

Something snapped. Polly Jean Walker had fallen and crushed her own umbrella.

"Tarnation!" She cursed, rather too loudly.

At least her shades were safe. Funny how those things were suddenly more important than keeping dry.

Of course, that magical... black man and his promise of wishes and whatever the Ultra Spectacular Mega Showdown Battle Royale Extravaganza' was the only reason why she come all the way from Montgomery, Alabama (not those other places that insisted on using the same name, there was only one Montgomery in her life) to Boss City.

And right now she was kinda regretting that. The invitation said to come down to Boss City and Polly had succeeded in doing so. So what now? She spotted a diner which meant warm and more importantly, fried food!

Her mama had taught her everything she knew about fixin' some grub: take a piece of meat, batter it, batter it some more and stick in the deep fat fryer. However, Polly was more than open to see what the city-slickers could do with that piece of apparatus.

Nevertheless, first off, she checked her funds.

Polly found them lacking.

Thus, the Southerner found herself underneath the diner's awnings. The smell only aggravated her hunger for chicken-fried steak.
 

The Funslinger

Corporate Splooge
Sep 12, 2010
6,150
0
0

"We are now arriving at... Boss City, Central Station," reported the automated intercom. "This train terminates here. Please take all your belongings with you."

About fuckin' time, the Spine thought, getting to his feet. I'm bloody tired of sitting on my arse, watching the scenery go by.

The Spine got to his feet, swinging the oblong metal case across his back. All around him, passengers were screaming and bawling, clawing hopelessly at the doors that would not open. The train was speeding towards the station. Adjusting his strange new aviators, the Spine grinned. "Fuckin' pussies."

In a flash, the daylight became muted as the train passed into the station itself. Hefting the guitar case, the Spine threw it. It went through the toughened plexi-glass as though it didn't exist. As the Spine sprinted forwards, the intercom sounded again.

"We have now arrived at Boss City, Central Station."

Running full pelt, the Spine hurled himself through the broken window, sailing through the air and landing atop the dense crowd that packed the platform.

"This train terminates here," he heard as the train reached the end of the rail, falling into the deep, faintly glowing chasm that cut deep, deep into the earth. As the Spine crowd surfed away from the tracks, towards the station's exit, he heard a muffled explosion from deep within the yawning pit. Reaching out over the heads of the crowds, he found the strap of his case. The train had terminated, and he had all his belongings with him.
 
Jun 26, 2009
7,508
0
0
Mr. Rei stood silently atop a roof, staring down at the people before as he ignored the rain falling on him. He scanned the crowds below him, watching them all rush to avoid the rain or hide from it underneath their umbrellas. Mr. Rei himself did no such thing before he felt it sink through his clothes and to his skin, deciding that ultimately it would be a smart idea to avoid being completely drenched.

Luckily the building he was standing atop was being repaired, allowing him to take cover underneath the scaffolding as the men worked beneath him- Unaware of his presence.

He had arrived not too long ago and had since been carefully assessing the city, he had to know as much about it as he could if he was to have a chance at this... 'Battle Royale'.

"Hey you! You're not supposed to be here, get the hell off!"

"...!"

Mr. Rei's thoughts were interrupted when one of the workers spotted him, causing him to act quickly. With one swift motion he stepped off the scaffolding, falling down onto a balcony coming off the building before jumping to the ground and landing on his feet. He looked left and right, lingering briefly the people who had noticed him, before standing up and brushing his wet clothes off.

The mysterious fellow moved underneath the nearest cover he could find, the awning of a nearby diner, before pulling out the sunglasses he had been given and inspecting them carefully. He moved his gloved finger over the lenses, cleaning it so the reflection was clear enough for him to see himself staring back. There wasn't much to see, really, all the clothes he wore made it so that he was unrecognizable- Just as intended. He had to remain unknown if he was to fulfil his goal.