The above OC is in danger, what will your OC do?

Posted 6 years, 4 months ago (Edited 5 years, 7 months ago) by Pierce Omagamma South-Sinner

(I edited this game while there were no replies because I thought I could set this out better)


How this works

1: Look at the scenario the above user has set out for their OC and think about how your OC would help them.
2: Once you have helped the above OC you need to create a scenario for your own OC for the next person to figure out how to help out.

For example if my scenario were this:
Pierce is thrown into a car crushing machine. The walls are slowly closing in on him and he is unable to get out.

Person 2 might write:
Mr Fredrick Von Madeupcharacter takes out the person operating the car crushing machine and quickly switches it off before Pierce can be crushed.
He then goes over to assist Pierce out of the machine.


And then write their own scenario like:
Fredrick Von Madeupcharacter crosses over a train track on their way home and gets his foot stuck in the track. He suddenly realises the train is coming and it's only a matter of time before they are mowed down by the oncoming train.

So the next person has to then answer their scenario with their own solution.


RULES:

  • Be respectful towards other users. 
  • Please wait at least 3 turns before you go again, and please rotate your characters to keep it interesting.
  • Please put some effort in and write at least 3 lines.
    > New rule <
  • If someone claims but doesn't complete within 12 hours then you're welcome to skip them and reply to the person above them.



    I'll give the first scenario and then after that you need to follow the chain and look a the user above.


    My scenario
    Pierce is out cold tied up inside a car which has been pushed into the water.
    The car is slowly sinking and filling up with water and it won't be long until the cyborg is completely submerged and drowns.
 Misk’ya _kaylarts_

Misk’ya had been idly watching Baghead from afar. The villagers near the farm had felt him to be no threat — he didn’t even need to use any real power to show them as such, as his demeanour alone was enough to make himself trusted. He was, in fact, a kid of good wills, and a good sense of justice.

Baghead had intrigued Misk’ya, not just because he wore a bag on his head, but by how gentle he seemed with nature, with his creatures, the slugs. Generally, people would ignore such animals, they would see them as “gross”, or “ugly”, and just move on. Some even would go the extra mile to kill them on the spot — that they didn’t “deserve” to live. 

But not Baghead, Baghead didn’t see them that way, Misk’ya could tell that much. They were a gentle creature, a gentle person, not in need of being harmed. So, when that old farmer had turned a gun on Baghead that day — “to eliminate the pest”, Misk’ya knew then, he had to step in. With REAL force. 

Then, just before the gun went off, Misk’ya stepped in front and looked the man right in the eye. “This one is not a pest,” he stated simply. “To hurt him you have to hurt me first.” 

And so, as it really was that easy — to look someone in the eye and make yourself “unharmable,” Misk’ya rescued Baghead from an unfortunate scenario, for the time, without even as much as saying a word to the guy… 


Now, this really was an unfortunate scenario for Misk’ya. Tied to a chair, deep in some cave, he was left alone, his eyes bound with a thick wet cloth, and his mouth gagged. 

How had the kind boy gotten in such a situation you may ask? Well, it is also very unfortunate. 

You see, Misk’ya is friends with two great beings, called “O’tsin”, these beings are very powerful. Earlier that day, Misk’ya had found himself separated from the O’tsin, lost, you could say. So, he did as any normal person would do in a similar situation — he asked around to see if anyone had seen any “horned spirit folk.” Of course, no one had, but a few did know who he was talking about. 

And they had so kidnapped the boy and planned to sell him back to the O’tsin, at a hefty cost. 

 Ribah Pieplove

Claim!  _kaylarts_ 

Ribah sat in the dark and didn’t move when the humans dragged an unconscious teenager deep into the cave. Ribah watched them tying the kid up and covering the boy’s eyes with a cloth. Ribah listened as the humans talked for a moment, and watched when they poked the kid to make sure he was still alive, the boy only replied with a soft groan.

The humans left the boy alone, and walked out of the cave. Once Ribah was sure they were gone, they crawled out of the shadows and towards the boy. Ribah didn’t feel scared, but felt rather sorry for the boy. Why was he all tied up? It looked like the boy was in pain.. 

Ribah started to tear the ropes apart, making sure not to harm the boy. They had to do it by touch as their eyes were on their hands, making it difficult to know where the ropes began and ended. After a few seconds, the boy was freed and Ribah removed the cloth from his eyes. 

But as soon as their eyes met, Ribah got an anxiety attack and quickly crawled back into the shadows. Ribah stayed close to the boy, while hiding in the dark, to make sure the kid got out of the cave safely. They let out a relieved sigh when the boy eventually found his way out of the cave.

- - - - 

Ribah let out a pained cry when the animal trap closed around their leg. The pain was so intense, Ribah fell to the ground, between the bushes they had been walking through. Ribah turned around on the ground and clawed at the metal teeth, but couldn’t open the trap, as their “hands” couldn’t find grip. Ribah growled and tried to move their leg, trying to get the trap off, but that didn’t seem to work either.
 
Ribah looked around to find something that could help them out. The forest was big and looked spooky, luckily the moon shone brightly on a stick close by. They grabbed the stick but couldn’t find a way to use it to open the trap.

Desperately they looked around again. Even though Ribah hated company, they hoped someone would walk by and would be kind enough to help.

Coco Holmes CometTheMountainLion

Coco Holmes walked in the woods that night in search of Bigfoot. She happened upon something else entirely. This…. thing was black and had red eyes. As the creature screamed and writhed in pain, Coco noticed something at its feet. Coco googled the description of the creature on her phone, the name “Ribah” came up. Coco debated on trying to capture the creature herself. But it didn’t actually seem to be a threat to the public despite its appearance. Coco decided that freeing Ribah would actually be the right thing to do. She pulls out her handgun from a secret pocket in her jumpsuit. She aims at the hinge of the animal trap. Being fully aware that she might accidentally shoot Ribah, she aimed carefully and at a safer angle. With a pull to the trigger and the bang of a 9mm round, the halves of the animal trap were separated. Ribah is now free!

- - - - - - -

Coco has been abducted by the mafia! She is being taken to a hideout in a black van, which the next oc then spots on Interstate 50. (See map on her profile)

rane muichiro

He sighs, watching as the black van drives down the highway. Gwen is somewhere behind him on his motorcycle, too far back to get in close as quickly as they needed. Judging by how fast the van was going.. well, they didn't have too long until it got away and took the hostage to some other area. If he was going to track it and do it properly, he was going to need to speed and get a little unhinged while driving. Whilst it wasn't his most favorable thing to do, and he actually disliked it due to having to deal with the other drivers; it was something he could do. Foot pressing onto the gas pedal of his vehicle, he turns the wheel and promptly cuts off an older man as he darts after the van that harbors Coco. His eyes narrow and he hones in, watching as his action alerts the other driver and the speeding contest begins.

"If someone can get a helicopter in from the north that'd be nice." He hastily snaps at his radio. He could chase the car around, but there was no way he'd be able to get in front of them to put a full stop to their actions.

--
He's too busy scolding a few children to stop playing in the street that he doesn't see... a man coming up to stab him in the back!

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Illanya Mariold (Undead AU) HardyLark

Spoiling for like... some violence and stuff... yeeeahh.

The frame of the wooden door creaks under the weight of her gauntleted grip as she ducks inside the door, perhaps not taller than some of the armed combatants in the room, but perhaps the only one in the room clad in cold, dark armor. They hadn't yet heard her enter, focused more on the interior of the room and it's lone occupant, someone that Illanya couldn't make sense of why they were interested in such a small and... well, weak-looking young man. There was obviously more at play here than meets the eye, but that doesn't change why she's come here in the first place. 

To be fair, Illanya was here more for a personal vendetta against these particular intruders, rather than choosing to be here out of any altruistic need to help this place's lone occupant. But, now that she was here... may as well kill two birds with one stone. Pulling her axe from her belt, the undead lets it scrape against the ground as she sets upon the closest intruder, the man is only able to make a choked sound as she slashes him down. One of the armed combatants nearby whips his head around and lets out a confused cry, raising the alarm to the others in the room. Of course, it's not enough time to save himself as Illanya surges forward, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and slamming him face-first into the wall. Once, twice, and she drops him, the man clutching at his broken nose and whimpering. The undead warrior tilts her head, silent as the remaining three intruders level their weapons at her.

"What the hell! Drop the axe, now!" One of them shouts, drawing the two orbs of light shining through her helm to focus on him. A short chuckle leaves her, and she hefts the axe, glancing down at it and staring at her reflection in it. She was a grisly sight already, blood had already gotten on her helm, and it tainted the reflection with crimson smudges from the blade. It was starting to bother her less to see herself like this, so she let her hesitation ease from her mind. The light of her eyes flickers back up to the group, and there's a twinkle of almost ruthless glee in them. 

"I don't think I will." The words had scarcely left her mouth before she surges forward, the sharp crack of firearms filling the air, and the impact of bullets splintering wood, sending dust and debris into the air. One of the men falls with a frightened scream that fades into a gurgle, his companions turning their guns on the armored woman, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing in the room. None of the bullets truly pierces her armor, though the impact is enough that her body jerks a little. With a frustrated roar, she flings her axe at the one closest to her, and tackles the other. There's a wet thud and one falls, while the other let out a sharp yelp as Illanya bowls into him, her fist driving into his face. And again, and again. The undead only stops punching, when the man lets out a weak whimper, the hand he'd been using to try and push her back resting on the hand that had his shirt firmly in her grasp. "W-why?" is all he rasps. 

"Maybe you should be more careful of who... or what you ally yourself with. You never know just what enemies they may have." Her gravely voice echoes from her helm, and she gives him one last punch before dropping him, probably one of the lucky few who may survive this encounter. She stands, helm swiveling to focus on the form of the young man, collar and all. White eyes flicker at him, confusion clear. Heavy armor clinks as she steps closer, and extends a hand out to him, despite how covered in blood she is.

"Can you stand?" She says hoarsely, unmoving. "You should not stay here, lest more return."


The undead's footsteps are more akin to stumbling, a gauntleted hand raised to her head as she squints against the morning sunrise. The night immediately after her song always left her weak, disoriented, and emotionally raw. Such a time was always the least pleasant for the undead, who had spent the night as far as she could get from anyone who might encounter her, lest they draw the wild ire of an uncontrollable Death Knight. 

In her pain, and exhaustion, the undead does not take notice of the mercenaries lying in wait around her, eager to see what bounty a Death Knight may score them.

Jack Daiz cicada-days

With a skillful slice of his sword, he leaves the mercenaries with a deep gash on each of their backs, before turning to Illanya with a graceful bow,  his hair falling sloppily around his horns., silky and shining in the light.  "I doubt that was enough to cause any fatal injuries, but they should be off your trail for awhile. He sheathed his sword, glimmering in the morning sun. "My dearest apologies for handling the situation so violently. I've still made quite a mess, I suppose I've become a bit rusty with my sword." He looks her in the eyes, "Jack Daiz, I suppose you could consider me a bit of a hermit."

(mm this isn't very good but I hope it's ok!!!)

Jack was rested on a bench. His normal location of choice for racking his mind. And normally a rather serene location. As it would be now if not for a precariously positioned above him resting hitched in the branches of another tree, a widowmaker. Oblivious to his position Jack's eyes and mind are distracted elsewhere.

 Malaise LostPocong

Malaise carefully watched the sky, the trees and the grass for a moment, looking for signs that the wind was picking up, but finding none. Having determined that it was safe for the moment, Malaise said, “Hey, two horns! Come over here for a second, I want to show you something.”

She waited for Jack to come over, luring him away from his precarious resting place, and approached the stem of the nearby tree. “Watch this!” she said, running towards the tree. She jumped, flapped her wings, and swung her arm to tap one of the branches, before landing softly. At first, nothing happened, but after a few seconds, the widowmaker started moving, becoming dislodged.

Malaise turned towards the two-horned stranger, just as the widowmaker crashed down behind her, landing on the bench Jack had been resting on a moment ago. She smiled and said, “Watch out for those things, you don’t wanna be below them when a breeze knocks them down.


Sitting in a local tavern, Malaise was too drunk to notice a couple of dangerous people she’d been hiding from entering through the door. She had stolen from them; What did she steal? A box or oranges… Too bad it was too late to just give it back… Two men approached her, while one waited by the door.

 When Malaise noticed the men, she looked around for an escape route, but it seemed like the door was the only way out… She panicked, how was she gonna get away this time?

N'arfi TwizzlyTwist

He was sitting at a table, playing poker and most likely cheating to win. In fact, he absolutely was. He brought his drink to his mouth but he was interrupted by the sudden commotion. The viera sighed slightly and put down his drink. “Sorry gentlemen. Give me one moment.” He adjusted his sleeves, where he was hiding several cards and swiftly stepped in between Malaise and the other men.

“I suggest that you go back to drinking unless you want to taste blood.” The men scoffed before making mocking gestures at his height. “I see…” The viera reached for the short knife he had managed to smuggle into the tavern. “For that comment alone, you have chosen the death of your kneecaps.”

The viera made quick work of the men who were after Malaise and he did in fact go for their kneecaps.  

—————————

While treasure-hunting in ancient ruins, N’arfi found himself wounded and surrounded by a band of thieves. Not that he currently wasn’t a thief himself but he needed that treasure.

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 Fukagawa _kaylarts_

I had an idea and some nifty inspiration, but sorry this is a bit long, maybe a lot long.... aha.... But yeah, anyways, hope you like it! 

There was an unsettling darkness surrounding the forest. Usually grand and full of life, the trees did not whisper, passing deer and elk did not stir the soil, and birds did not chirp in their leaves. All that remained was the screams of the wind, as it hurled its way through the winding paths and branches, searching for a glimpse of fur among the brush, a living being. This wind was the path of two spirits.

A disturbance had been felt by many in the spirit world, a god was dying, a deity of the trees, the ruler of this land. Thought by many as a foolish king, numerous of the great spirits ignored the cry for help. Fukagawa however was sickened by the reaction. He and his companion cared not for the personality of a victim. They only cared to save them, to offer a helping hand. That’s why they were those of the great three, while all those other O’tsin remained insignificant. Kanagawa had said he hoped they were embarrassed that the head of the line took this job, where many others could have filled their space in place. Fukagawa agreed, though he found that helping the forest guardian known as Sylvestris to be quite important... and not as simple a job as Kanagawa had thought.

Suddenly the wind ceased its cries, and the two fell down to the cold earth of a cliff wall. Ahead they saw the bashing and thrashing of light as it licked up the stone in an array of colours. Kanagawa unearthed his shield, Fukagawa held his strength and focused his eyes. They marched forward, lightning struck, and the ground sickened purple, Fukagawa squinted his eyes, this was dark magic.

Turning around the curve the two O’tsin lay their eyes on a figure draped in black, he carried a staff with a cracked jewel, one that matched his wrinkled shadowed face. The sorcerer cackled and smacked the forest floor once more, wildlife reared and fell before him, trees crashed to the soil, roots ripped from the earth, leaves fell over crimson pools, and their god fell to his knees. The sound echoed through the silent night, and the stars watched, hiding their faces behind clouds.

He called them all to him for his aid, Kanagawa whispered. That’s why the forest is silent.

Yet, this is not an army, but a team, Fukagawa commented, as he jumped into action. Shield him, I will keep the sorcerer busy.

Kanagawa leaped through the air and landed softly to meet the deity, as Fukagawa combatted the villain in a flash of strikes. Kanagawa's shield cut through the dirt, covering the two “gods” with its radius, as he fell to kneel before the forest god, with a hand over his steady beating heart. 

Bowing politely, he called out to the deity, “Sylvestris god of the trees." Smoke curled out of his mask and caressed the spirit's warm face. “I am Yeen Hayetsxw," Kanagawa's eyes flickered in the light of the battle raging behind him. "He who is fighting is known as K’illa’ Daxgyet." A strike crashed against the spirit's shield, he supported it with one hand, and violet beams dripped over its side in an explosion. The spirit, with unwavering intensity, continued his long introduction.

"We are two of the great three — the O’tsin of Delgamuuk — I implore that you let us assist you.”

---

Many had thought he was an unmatchable opponent, still, he had his limits. In many battles, he prevailed and lived victorious — alive, but there were always consequences. Death became his weakness, his immortality, his strength. The grief of his friends blinded him, and the values of victory became null - worthless.
In a final battle to fight the creatures of the darkness, Fukagawa flinched. He lost his head, he was fighting a losing battle — Simply were there too many evil beings for one spirit to fight, or was it a grand and powerful adversary? Who knows, but even in the darkest corners of the world, will there be an unexpected ally for him to rely on? Or will this day be one to remember, maybe even as his last battle...


Fukagawa’s eyes paled in the darkness, he felt himself fading, he knew if he didn’t have the help he and all the others he needed to protect would die. Alone, on a one-on-one, he knew he could have beaten this boy in battle. He surely was the kind the O’tsin would fight — evil in some sense. He tightened his jaw and bared his fanged teeth as the kid gripped his face in his own white fingers.

Still, to grovel before such a weak, unassuming, adversary almost seemed worse than death. After he had already faced such a horrid loss? He knew he would rather die.
Though, he also knew there was no “end” for an O’tsin. After this he would simply become one with nature, there would be no ego of his to feel that weakness, ignoring an offer, even of such low and demeaning help, was a stupid and idiotic thing not to do. He needed to move past himself if he were to grow and succeed. To save real mortal lives. 

The O’tsin’s brow twitched, and rich blood dripped down his chin, he had never felt himself bleed in such a way. It was painful.

Grovel?” Fukagawa spat. “I am already at your knees.” Behind him the darkness stirred, he could still hear their cries… their cries… so many were now dead. Was it his fault?
Fukagawa’s face fell, he closed his eyes and breathed in unsteadily, his strong body below him, now weak, flickered, he was closer now.

Fukagawa looked forwards, past the pain and the darkness.
If he did not live to fight another day, then there would be no point in his previous existence. He had not been a coward for a long, long time, and he wouldn't be one that day, never again. No fight was too great, he would always be victorious, in some way...

“But, yes. I will. I will beg...I-- I beg of you…” Fukagawa caught the boy’s white pale and malicious glare with his own pure one. “I plead, I begplease, you are the only one.” The O’tsin’s clawed hand gripped onto Fabrico’s tightly, he looked physically strained to speak each word. Like the sentences themselves were knifes stabbed into his gut and turned to induce a painful demise.
Please….” the O’tsin cringed, “please, save me, have mercy..”

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Micheal muichiro

He practically cuts through the air as he manifests, bringing a glorious, bright light with him. Standing directly in front of Ren, he wields Zadkiel (the sword), with both hands and points the tip of the blade at the shadowy shape of the beast. His eyes are narrowed and his wings spread out, careful not to hit the teenager in the face. Though he hadn't been directly called for or summoned, he had (luckily) been in the area and sensed something amiss. A non-human without powers was defenseless, and though he wasn't as mortal as the rest of the world was- he's was still young and worthy enough of being saved. Demonic entities were his forte and this one didn't seem all that powerful in comparison to the angelic aura that shrouded Micheal. 

With a dash forward and a slash of the blade, he engages in a quick combat.. which, thankfully only lasts about a minute or so. The entity reveals itself as an oversized imp, then fizzles out of existence in a smoke of black as it's banished straight to where it originally spawned from. Whilst he didn't kill and consume its energy today, perhaps tomorrow he might treat it differently. That is, if it came back and didn't change its way of being, of course. Not many negative energies did, but he had hope that some might.

Turning, he faces the youth and sheathes the blade into a holster on the side of his pants. A soft smile brings itself to his features and he offers a silent salute. 


He's been hit by a car and is unconscious for a moment as another one is coming!