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|| Current Year & Season: Winter of 426 || Based on Eyewitness accounts and the absolute state of denial the Freedom Pirates find themselves in, they have now confirmed that Lucy, after a years' investigation, died of her terminal condition. Information was gained by WISH's Chief of Staff of the CDC, Mr. Beckman. || Abyssal has decided to hang up her cape after the news of Lucy's death and entrusts her lineage to a hopeful young one, Sub-Zero. Reporters asked a few newer members about Abyssal's retirement and they gave mixed responses.|| “I ain’t going back to Elysium for no damn reward. Fuckers insane.” - Newest Vitality Member, Big Smoke. No extra information was given to explain his ranting. ||

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Event: Bloody Hands Cure All Wounds - Beast & Burden; 24 Hours
Topic Started: Jan 15 2018, 07:49 PM (7,859 Views)
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The Master
A large caravan rolled through a well driven road, headed towards the ancient ruins that weren't far from Lima itself. The large tour bus carried many people from all over the world all here to enjoy the sights and history; however, there were a few sore thumbs about. They looked rougher, more serious and less like tourists. They seemed to be the kind of people to be drawn here by the rumors of strange beasts tearing up houses, killing tourist and locals alike in rampages that are seemingly unstoppable. No one is sure if it was do to the usage of a quirk or if the wilds of South America were evolving dangerously along with the humans themselves.

Whatever the reasons they had, they found themselves among the murmur of the people as they trailed along the dusty road with a massive canyon to the right of them. This was how you knew which people were here for what reasons. Those whom remained seated and not amused by the site of sheer drop that easily could be their deaths at any moment. One of the men from the front yelled that they were putting the balance of the bus off and they were tilting, but not one person paid any mind to it. They were blissfully ignorant of any danger or chance there of.

To the left was a vast set of rocky cliffs inter mixed with dividing hills that randomly would stretch into a small bit of plain. Each patch randomly covered in grey, green and brown patches of grass and wildflower alike. It would all appear as though the rumors the rougher crowd was seeking appeared to be a lie. The only issue they had was a pack of wild Capybara fighting a ranchers pack of llamas.

With an hour passed, they were nearing the half way point of their trip.
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Coolest Cheeto in the Bag
"...Life continues to revolve even in tragedy as we all grow and evolve."

The beaming rays of sunlight surely did the trick for Damien's reading session , but not for his attitude. He hadn't thought about the climate of Southern America to well before considering to sign up on the exploration. The chance at discovering something breath-taking was blind-siding enough to cause him to forget some of the basics. After marking his last read page in his poetry book , he would place it back into his back and take out a canteen of water. The sun was did wonders for reading and enlightening the pages , though he wasn't a fan of the heat.

He had taken a seat roughly in the middle of the bus on the left side , next to the window. He could hear the little bits of pebbles getting swept up under the truck bouncing against the side back onto the road. Dust became of the air whenever the truck hit a bumpier part of the round which caused Damien sneeze quite often. Looking outside his window at the constant plain rocky terrain of the cliffs could never get old to him , as he enjoyed the sites of nature. Being raised in the more rural and city areas had given him a vague appearance of the world from watching television or social media.

He took the time to ponder about what had truly lead him to the continent. There had been certain rumors that fell upon the internet about mauling and non-returnee tourists. Too many similar incidents had surfaced quite to often only to be buried beneath false news on tv . Topics of distraction such as the local pop idol adopting a penguin from the local zoo. It was non-sense and people needed the truth , which Damien took upon himself to reveal.

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Axel was fresh from his community service and had decided to go south instead of heading back home to Japan. It was less of a choice and more of him reading the ticket wrong and ending up going to South America. It was not one of Axel's finer moments and once again he was in a country that he had absolutely no understanding of their common languages. He was just sorta getting used to not being understood at this point. Trying his best to make weird gestures and symbols to get people to speak to him he tried his best to symbol that he was trying to get back to Japan. Of course his communication either fell on deaf ears or where horribly misunderstood. Through a rather strange series of events he had managed to get himself onto a rather strange bus that was going onto some sort of tour or adventure.

"Hey this does not seem to be getting me to an airport or to Japan. Do you even know where we are going? Somebody get me home!?!" he would start saying standing up in his seat completely confused and frustrated at the situation that he was in. He really really regretted ever even leaving Japan in the first place. If he ever actually managed to get back to Japan he would kiss on the ground and pray to the gods that he would never have to leave it ever again. Either that or at the very least somewhere that somebody could understand the words that he was saying. As he looked out the windows after falling back down into his seat he was startled to see a large canyon to the side and wanted to get off of this dang bus.

He was really starting to feel cursed with ending up in one insane situation after another. First it was the chaos in America where the green lady fell from the sky and blew up a building. Then he ended up in this hot hell hole on a tour ride to who the fuck even knew where. As he looked around he got even more confused as a bunch of animals seemed to be fighting. He simply put his head in his hands and started shacking it back and forth. "Look at the shithole you have gotten yourself into this time. I gotta buck up cause I will not let this damn world shit on me!" he thought to himself as he straightened himself up in his seat to prepare himself for whatever may come. he pulled his legs up and interlocked his fingers and entered a meditative stance to calm down.
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Mr.G Watched the comical battle between the large cow-rats and the lamas. "Look at these mooks, whatever they're fighting over its obviously in short supply." He said mostly to himself. He hadn't paid much attention to the other people on the bus, but there sure was a good amount of people there. "If this is all this place has to offer then I should have brought rat poison."

Mr.G sighed as he pulled out his false banana, as he peeled it the Cuban cigar in place of the starchy center was revealed. The good thing about being in South america was that they were close to all those cigars. Mr.G looked at the tall cliffs and the steep valleys out the side of the bus, the vegetation was a combination of fertile jungle and rock. "For such a shithole, this place is pretty nice."
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Adam stared out the window, taking in the sights. While they had started off fresh and interesting, it didn't take long for the landscape to get boring, and he slumped back in his seat. At the very least the weather was nice and warm, the sun beaming down strongly. It kept his mood positive, despite the fact that the entire trip seemed to be for nothing. He had heard that the locals had been having trouble with wildlife and had taken a trip in the hopes of finding work, but the rumours seemed to fall short from what he had been expecting.

He looked around the bus a little, taking advantage of his spot towards the back to see almost all of the other passengers. Most of them seemed to be normal tourists, excited at every small change in the scenery, while a couple were a little more interesting. One seemed to be having a break down, another had been reading but put his book away as Adam looked at him, and a third was being rather annoying. It took everything Adam had not to hit his head against the wall in frustration, and he wondered how long the rest of the bus ride was going to take.
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After getting her hammer from the twins, she gotten a rather hot tip from them as they were putting on the finishing touches. Grafting on an extra little function that is exclusive to the Diamond woman only, they spoke of one of their earliest ventures with one of their agents. Though one couldn't really remember it properly due to their quirk, apparently, the other was able to fill in the details to help make the story consistent. They were able to get some of the most expensive diamonds in the world, the purest they could even get their hands on practically for free. It was all said to fill in some time, yeah, but this information interested the young diamond bitch.

A trip to South America and they came back with ten pounds of diamond, even saying that there was much more to grab but they couldn't spend too much time due to the harsh environments down there. Not saying a single thing about this, Cora kept this little tidbit in the back of her mind, having to actually consider her options and weighing them down. Seeing as how they spoke that their agent originally had two arms, just seeing that he had only half an arm remaining put the woman on guard.

About a month later, after the events of the Mall Party, Cora didn't really see anything interesting happen in her life. It was just drifting from one place to another, without any care as to what happens or who she fucks up. Smoking a cigarette, wafting the toxic fumes down into her lungs, she gazed at the dark Mexican Horizon as she thought of what can happen next. What thrill was she going to chase after this time? She was in a riot with a big ass dragon whom, after the fact, learned of his identity. She was attending a party in which the mall fucking burned down in a blaze of glory and evaded the police. She robbed a bank almost a year ago, and still hasn't been caught. What the hell was left for her?

Looking at her own hand, she unconsciously turns the palm of her own hand into diamond, watching her skin mesh and harden into a light-violet crystal formation. Gazing at her own reflection, she remembered the story the twins told her, and with a final drag of her cancer stick, she blew out the smoke and muttered out, "..... Fuck it."

Sitting in a large Caravan, the busty shortstack diamond woman sat in her own seat drinking a nice, cold, Pepsicola. Some shitty soda that people liked, and it was nice. She'd rather drink or smoke or something, but her personal stash got lost in the luggage. Fuck airports man, fuck em. Apparently this ride she took was all expense paid, thanks to the airport pretty much giving her money to compensate lost luggage, and now she was on her way to some location which, she was promised some kind of adventure to some ruins. Probably a place where she can raid for some treasures!

Leaning back in her own seat, she felt the indentation of her own Diamond Mallet pressed against her own soft back, as she wore nothing but a Dark Indigo tanktop along with violet skin-tight jeans, showing off her thiccness. Smirking to herself as she felt like the best looking motherfucker on this bus, she looked at the Gorilla two seats over unpeeling a banana... AND REVEALING A CIGAR! SWEET NICOTINE GOODNESS!

"Hey, Kerchak," Cora called out to him, calling him that famous Gorilla from that Disney film, "Gimme one of em! My shit got lost, and I need my fix fam!" The brash woman threw out her arm, practically demanding that she get at least one puff of those cigars. Lest she was gonna bust some skulls before they arrived at their god damn destination.
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Idol Trash
”Now ain’t that somethin’...”

Among all the calm tourists who were there to enjoy the beautiful scenery, and the rougher miscreants who’d arrived to chase rumours and adventure, there also sat an odd intersection between the two primary parties. Or perhaps, he would be better described as an outlier, one who didn’t truly belong in either group. After al, if he was being completely honest, Daniel Peters had absolutely no clue what he was doing there.

Well, he was perfectly aware of how he had gotten there, he just wasn’t entirely sure why. After the events at the now-former Wild Rose base, Danny hadn’t been sure where to take his blood-soaked hands. He’d burned it all down, lost everything just as he’d planned to do, and now there was nothing more for the world to take from him. Well, almost nothing.

Looking back on it, Danny wondered if that was what had drawn him to South Africa. Dangerous place like that, maybe he’d recognised it as the ideal location to lose the one thing he still had. Of course, he was far too apathetic about his own life to actually seek out any danger, and instead had ambled about the country with the money he’d gotten from selling off any criminal assets Ayano’s will had left him. But, who knew, maybe he’d find what he was looking for. Or maybe he’d just find something more to lose.

Dressed in his usual attire, the American boy stared out the window of the bus with a sedated and lifeless gaze, finding only mild interest in the surroundings. He didn’t see anything he didn’t already know about the impartial and imbalanced world he’d come to know.
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Gallus began betting in his head on who would win, the alpaca or the capybara. Anything to mitigate this absolute, unparalleled boredom. He had followed rumors of some strong opponent in South America, so he came to find this supposed challenger. He should’ve known, given how tall the tales he heard were, but he felt compelled to come anyway, hoping to prove himself again.

This rooster-headed fellow sat in the back of the bus, beginning to scratch at his feathers with his talons. His tail was wrapped up nicely around his neck, covered by a scarf he’d recently happened upon. It wasn’t particularly cold, but he’d taken a liking to the material and found it staved off some weird attention he often got in crowded places. But perhaps he should’ve stayed in town afterall. Could’ve found the underground fight clubs, won some money, wash himself once more in the glory of victory.

At first, when he had to leave England, he was spiteful. Why couldn’t the police just leave his home alone? But, in the end, he was grateful for the opportunities which lead him to go international. More fight clubs, stronger opponents, more glory. Just thinking about it had him going wild cackling, startling his fellow bus passengers.


Edited by Dondagora, Jan 19 2018, 03:52 AM.
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King of Free-form

Wordlessly, Kirin stared at the roof of the bus. It wasn't so much that he was ignoring his surroundings, but that the stiffness in his shoulders wouldn't subside for the duration of the trip. He had been hitting it up on the beaches of Cali when he had heard the news about the attacks. Kirin had never had the best relationship with his family, his mother was a drug-addled whore and his father had not had the dignity to stick around longer than was needed to conceive a child. But that void in his life had lead him into getting some answers on this trip.

One particularly crummy afternoon, Kirin had the opportunity to get his face dented in by the father of a girl he had gotten too handsy with, this lead to a brief stay in the hospital where the issue of his origin had been called into question, him being a Minor at the time and all. The doctor there, he was like a savant with blood, it must have been a Quirk or something, but within an hour he had Kirin's father's name and address. The address was long abandoned of course, but the name came with leads. For years, Kirin had just settled with the pictures he found of the man, and the knowledge that his love of Tequila most likely came from his Mexican father more so than something he had gotten a taste for in the womb. For years, Kirin had just sat on that knowledge, a name, a bogus address, and a sordid digital footprint. It was when he saw his father in the background of a photo regarding a string of attacks in South America. Kirin wasn't sure what made him sign top for this expedition, but he couldn't shake the feeling something was drawing him down this path.
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Kosoko breathed in deeply, taking in the musk of the South American air. She had never traveled to South America before, but with the rumors that were surrounding the ruins that took home in South America, she had to travel there and find out if it was real or not. She wasn't known to be driven by curiosity, but curiosity had gotten the best of her that time around. The sun rays struck her seductive eyes through the slim windows on the tour bus. Many of the male tourists found themselves focusing their gaze on her, but turning away once she began to take note of it.

She attired herself in something sporty, yet sexy. She wore fitness shorts that were small in length, and purple in color with a dark blue trim. She wore a tank top with matching features. She was seated toward the middle of the bus, as it was the only seat remaining once she got on since she was the last person to get on the bus. Her hair was tied into a low ponytail which was braided.

She began to think about the source of the rumors, which brought about a wide range of options. Most rumors stem from overreactions that took place over a simple event. Once word travels, people start to have their own rendition of the story, most of which come from people that weren't even there when the event took place. To Kosoko, the rumors were probably just a big misunderstanding, but still, she was curious to see what could have caused such confusion worldwide, as she wasn't from South America or anywhere near it, but she somehow got word of the rumors. She wasn't sure if the more common looking people had any idea what it was about, but from the way they appeared, she was sure that they didn't.

There were a few people that stood out to Kosoko, as they didn't have your run of the mill happy go lucky tourist outfits or cameras. They also had more daring expressions on their faces. The type of expression where you'd think they were out to kill you if you even spoke a word to them. She began to stroke her fingers down her braid, trying to pass the time until the bus had reached its destination. If someone was sitting next to her, she wouldn't have noticed, as her mind was fixated on something of way more importance: did the rumors have any truth to them? If they did, the tourists would have a lot in store for them, as it didn't look like any of them could hold their own in a battle, let alone with a wild beast.
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Avila stared silently out the window of the buss, her red eyes scanning the landscape. She leaned back and glanced behind her out at the other vehicles in the caravan. Why had she agreed to be the person her school sent to represent them on this expedition? Sure, she was one of their top students and she enjoyed some of the history, but what was her purpose? Just a representative or was she supposed to do more?

Her school was one of the most prestigious of Romania, if not all of Europe so that did hold some baggage. The girl leaned against the window, her eyes glancing across the rest of the people in the buss. Most were tourists, quite a few stood out from the rest though, which told her she was herself. She glanced down at her open leather coat, revealing her tight fitting tank top that showed off her fairly athletic build and bust size. The jeans and hat only accentuated the idea that she was there more for an adventure then the tourism most were there for.

The girl glanced up casually as the sudden caws and a girl shouting caught her attention. She blinked at the girl, rolling her eyes a little. She was chubby, far from athletic. How someone like her had come to this place was beyond her, was she even fit enough to keep up? At this commotion she simply rolled her eyes and glanced back out at the landscape. "Can we just get to the ruins already? These idiots are too loud," she mumbled under her breath in Romanian. As far as she knew she was the only one who knew it in the buss so it wasn't like anyone would understand her.


Edited by SkyOfCrimsom, Jan 19 2018, 06:13 AM.
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Resting his head against the glass of the window, Demetri waited silently as the bus made its way down the unpaved road. He hadn’t moved much since boarding, causing the many vibrations of the vehicle to resonate with his body. The teen found the feeling relaxing and would use it as an escape from the ruckus being caused by the other half of the bus. It seemed the other passengers were gawking at the great size of the canyon. Though, Demetri might have been more interested in sight-seeing if it were not for his reason being there.

The blonde thought back to the what all transpired before his arrival in South America, as he glanced down to the right side of his chest where Mercutio had made a crimson seal on his body. Demetri would recall Mercutio sending the orphan out with little to no information outside of what the rumors were. The idea of being that man’s lacky bothered him to no end, however, realizing the massive difference in their abilities led to Demetri choosing to bide his time as an obedient apprentice–even going as far to abide by the dress code given, wearing a black robe decorated with red clouds. If he was ever going to fulfill his goal of getting revenge, he needed to grow stronger, find greater power. In this current state, the teen was nothing more than an annoying insect to his enemies and he hated it.

A pack of capybara pestering a rancher's herd of llamas would catch Demetri’s eye as he continued to rest his forehead on the window. Having never encountered either of these animals before, the blonde kept his focus on the fight. Nothing really seems out of the ordinary, he thought to himself, wondering if the rumors had any real weight to them. Demetri, who has had nothing but fight after fight, came prepared for the worst having brought his Moon Stone and various other supplies he may end up needing.


Edited by Casshern, Jan 16 2018, 10:02 PM.
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Fell God of Waffles
Everything was just so... strange.

Looking around the bus had been an experience to Eizen. There were just so many people here, all doing their own thing. One was smoking, another reading, one was sitting there in silence, and one was... well, one was a rooster making noises, so Eizen didn't quite know what to think of that one. Then again, these days, Eizen didn't know what to make out of most things. Since he'd woken up on Elysium, he'd fallen into a sort of absurdly quiet pattern of repetition, not really knowing what the future held anymore or what to do with himself.

He still didn't know what it held. He had asked Mercutio as politely as he could if he could leave Elysium, even if just for a little while, so here he was now, on a bus full of people armed with little more than his quirk and simple rumors of strange destructive beasts. Looking beside him gave Eizen a glance of the cloak that filled his heart with rage. The black cloak with red clouds would have looked better torn to shreds, but that was just Eizen being bitter. He didn't know the person wearing it, but if they were wearing a coat so similar to the one Mercutio wore, they were probably nobody good.

Eizen looked out the window to see strange, large creatures fighting some llamas, and while the sight caught his interest for a bit, after a while he grew tired of watching the struggle, letting out a sigh. Why did so many things in the world have to fight? Couldn't they just live peacefully? He kicked his feet in front of him, his eyes watching the rhythmic motion. If he had known what he was getting into, he would have brought something to do at the very least. A book would have been really nice to pass the time.

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Sitting at the back of the caravan, a certain red-haired girl leaned her head on the window. With earphones in her ears and her eyes out of the window, she was oblivious to what the man at the front had said. She was more focused on watching the scenery flash by her, deeming it the source of her entertainment for at least a few more minutes. The canyon was wide but it did not scare her enough.

I want to go back home… Circe complained to herself, sitting straight only to thumph her head again to the window. Her boredom was making her less lively than she usually was. I don't want to use my phone or the battery might die on the way home. She mentally cursed herself for forgetting her bank charger. She had resorted to watching the fight between the capybaras and the llamas but it was not as entertaining as she would have liked.

The ride will end soon… Just an hour, then explore the place and snap some pictures for Grandma. After that another long ride back to the airport… And then… She groaned more audiably now, anyone beside her could hear her exasperation. I'm just doing this for her so just bear with it for a while. Even still, she had been guilt-tripped into this journey but she could not find it in herself to actually complain more defiantly. It was no secret that her dearest grandmother was fragile and not as healthy as she used to be. Just enjoy this trip for her even if the rumours about this place is unpleasant.

She finally peeled her eyes away from the window, losing interest and glanced at her companions to occupy herself. Most of them appeared to be simple tourists, eager to see the ruins but she did find some intriguing. However, it was not enough to catch her interest even if she was getting wary of some of them. Could be just paranoia from reading the rumours on the web. She let her gaze wander through the whole bus before her attention was drawn by one of the passengers standing up. Despite the music blasting into her ears, she faintly picked up a new addition to the muffled voices in the background.

She managed to take her earbuds out in time to hear the last sentence spoken in Japanese. She fixed a confused stare at the boy while she processed the words he uttered. Take me home? … Is this kid lost? She could easily understand what he said; Japanese was close enough to become her first language if she had not grow up in America. Why isn't he speaking in English? Could it be that he can't? Still how did he end up here?

Circe was curious and in need of a distraction so she grasped the chance; she got out of her seat and walked towards the boy. On her way, she passed by many interesting individuals but she focused only on the lost boy. Once she was standing right beside the little guy, she realised that he was meditating. With no intention to turn back and waste her energy by bothering to come to him, she settled in the seat next to him and lightly tapped him on the shoulders. "Hello! I heard you asking for help." She asked in fluent Japanese with a welcoming smile on her face. "You can call me Circe."
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The Apprentice
Chapter 1: Crash Site.

Some spanish song blurred from the dinky radio of the trashy caravan that was closer to a dumpster bus. For a tour it sure was poor quality. Though perhaps it was the best they could afford. The bus driver looked greasy though it was likely due to the sweat. He had a small fan pointed at him and his skin was brown and rough due to constantly being in the sun, constantly driving the bus back and forth for his living. It was apparent the driver had checked out, he was just earning his nine to five. He looked up at the rear view mirror to see Axel bouncing in his seat, he called out at him to sit but in spanish so it was likely the kid could understand. He took the turn carefully, the edge of the cliff being so close always made him nervous but he'd done the drive a thousand times. As long as he did it the same way it'd all be fine he figured. Someone shouted that the bus might tilt but the driver assured him it was fine, it'd take a big impact to actually knock the bus over and in his years on the job they never had any trouble.

However as they turned, a pack of capybaras were harassing a pack of llamas and the little spout fell into their road. The bus driver brought the bus to a stop, and sighed. He considered getting off to help the man, or hoped one of his passengers would so they could move along. As he glanced back most of the obvious tourist were too enthralled with the sights, snapping photos of the canyon and the view, some of them even snapping photos of the small skirmish between the animals. As the driver finally worked up the nerve to get off the bus and help clear the path, his eyes spotted a girl walking forward. Again he called out, telling her to sit down as he didn't want to risk someone taking a bump or having an accident. Though he himself stood as he planned on leaving the bus, he spoke to her in spanish and pointed to a seat.

He didn't notice that the animals suddenly ran off, both of them. The rancher puzzled and chasing after his pack. The ignorant tourist wouldn't pay any attention to it, as some were too preoccupied with their photos, some even taking photos of the passengers who stood out more. Though one would assume it was hard to feel eyes on you when the thing watching you, had no eyes.

They would all feel a sudden slam into the bus, the driver grabbing onto a seat to steady himself. The slam was so forceful it pushed the bus nearly off the cliff, teetering on the edge suddenly. The driver was about to call out to have everyone move to the other side and carefully exit the bus, before he could however they were on them. Another slam, and another, in mere moments they attacked and the bus had no chance of being saved, the bus falling off the edge, spiraling out of control as they fell.

The Attackers

As the bus fell, the first victim was the driver himself. The bus spun, tossing the passengers inside about like helpless ragdolls, the driver's spine was crushed on his own seat, his body being flung around and crashing into the windshield, the window cracking. The tourist didn't last much longer, the lot of them being old or overweight, bodies crushing and breaking other bodies as they all were flung. The bus slammed into a pointed edge, crushing and shattering windows and breaking any bodies that were unfortunate enough to be on the side the bus landed on when it hit the edge.

However that was not the end, as the bus did not lose its momentum, falling onto its side after landing, it rolled off the cliff and continued to spiral down into the ravine, as if the earth itself consumed the caravan. However now shattered glass flew among them as they resumed falling. Those with light or revealing clothing would receive several cuts among their person. Finally the bus hit the ravine, and it seems the falling was over. The bus was now a mess of dead bodies, blood, and glass. Those who survived would find themselves completely lost, if they looked up they would not even be able to see where they fell from anymore.

If one had brought possessions along with them, unless they had a tight grip during the fall they'd likely be scattered about now. Such a massive fall would no doubt leave people injured and disoriented. (-2 Stamina to everyone for 3 post.)

They were lost now, but unbeknownst to them, they were closer to what they truly seeked than they ever would have been on the tour to some old forgotten ruins of no consequence. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps the attackers had reason for shoving them off. Regardless, welcome to south america.

Edited by Rookie Bot, Jan 29 2018, 02:01 AM.
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