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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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>> No.42886548 [View]
File: 690 KB, 1087x2000, jokerdaegal.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


"Got him-" Bell Zephyr's voice is brittle with hatred, as her weapon winds back for another strike. One arm hangs limp at her side, the electric crackle of her scourge gone dim - tiny flames still smolder across her form, the pagan crest of bone-ivory that crowns her charred and blackened-

Her attention is entirely on you.

That is her mistake.

Sparks flare across the rent, as your legs crumple beneath you - Systems fighting to recohere-

There is a sound. Sledgehammer-echo-roar.

A fury of white light and heat leaps across the distance. The effect is huge, the explosion monstrous. It goes wide - a ball of seething sunfire - erupting into a sunburst two yards in diameter. Bell Zephyr is hurled aside by the blast - Her agility gone, she lands on her shattered arm, skidding, sliding, tumbling as smoke wisps from her already-charred limbs-

Rust Kaiser turns.

"Come on! Come *on*, ugly!"

Armaros's sword - Ascalon - is not a subtle weapon. It is a huge claymore, a great, cleaving edge that flares out into the open top of a barisage cannon. In Daegal's hands, slammed into the floor to brace the huge weapon, spiralling gold inlay coils across the peerless steel - silver chased with gold, a lion's open maw exhaling smoke.

There is defiance in Daegal's voice, defiance and disbelieving terror as he leans on the blade - Both hands grasping the hilt as he wrenches it from the ground, levelling it at Rust Kaiser.

"-I did that. Me. *I'm* the one you want, you bastard-"

Red and azure light flares in the mismatched lens of Rust Kaiser's eyes.

"Bring it *on*, you miserable, evil *fuck*-"


>> No.41174306 [View]
File: 690 KB, 1087x2000, jokerdaegal.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


(Yes. You've never seen the kind of armor Alura is 'wearing', ever - Her form is capable of shaping facial expressions.)


Daegal makes a sound - the blurt of a startled obscenity, an "Oh *fuck*-" of slow-cohered realization.

"You *begged* us for it, didn't you? You said you'd do anything - Kill anyone - to *buy* their way to the Promised Land. To give them a better life."

"Enough," Enfer rasps. There is no denial in his words - only a flat anger, harnessed by the iron cords of discipline.

"It's all he has, Joker." the glee in Shizuka's buzzing, buzzing voice - that blend of condescension and petulantly malignant mockery - is unmistakeable, rich with contempt. "They're all he has - And *we're* all he has-"


"You think-" Kazuya's voice is appalled, almost strangled - "-You think that's what they'd *want*?" He forces him forward, an involuntary step - "You - You think they'd *want* that? That's - that's *sick*. Even if-" He makes an abrupt gesture, with one gleaming gauntlet, his cloak sweeping out. "-Even if you're doing this for them, you'll be-"

"-You'll be damning them *too*-"


>> No.38845902 [View]
File: 690 KB, 1087x2000, jokerdaegal.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


(Unfortunately, no.)


"-Here." Daegal's hand extends. There is an Ion Blaster in it, pushed - firmly, but not ungently - into White Licorice's grasp.

"I - I don't know how to use-"

"It's like a camera. Point, and click."

"I've never..." Her voice catches - "...I've never shot anyone before."

He doesn't answer, not immediately - tilting his head, listening.

"Can you hear that?"


"That's the Red Comet's primary magazine," Daegal says - green light flickering within the gleaming golden figure's eyeslits. "We're *already* in the thick of it. Whatever Ano - Whatever *Joker's* doing, he's unloading everything we have, at the maximum rate. We are," he concludes, with a kind of distant authority, "-killing a lot of things."

The Adamant encases his left arm, the Condemner in his right fist. Ever since he glimpsed Chrome Cypher on the camera, he's gone quiet; a kind of disbelieving calm descending, the lines of his form unmoving, still.

"Kazu - Dae - Kazuya-kun, what are-" a deep breath, her confusion clear even through her faceless helmet - "...What are you going to *do*-?"

The Red Comet's bay doors grind open. Even filtered through layers of armor-plating, the sound is cancophic - He can't help but flinch, in the moment before he ignites the Condemner. For a long, long moment, he stares into the photonic blaze as if he can read his future there...Before he lets it drop to his side, but holding it alight.

"-All I can, that's all. Just...whatever I *can* do."


>> No.38694699 [View]
File: 649 KB, 1087x2000, 1424533009400.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Pic related
Was it? I also remember it as around shield. Might be because Adamant's design was based on Dukemon, though.

>> No.38555623 [View]
File: 690 KB, 1087x2000, jokerdaegal.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


That oriachulum helm lowers. Slowly, Daegal's fingers curl into a fist, the cables in his neck bunching - But he doesn't say anything. You don't think he can.

"...took some of us away - no reason, no sense - killed everyone else..." Her speakers wash, and crackle again. "-don't understand, don't know *why*...J, just taking them to, to-"

An irritated bark of noise, from Rook. Not far from a falcon's shriek, but with something of a crow in it.

"-We can't stay here," he warns, watching the skies. "Hnnnh. They'll have seen that - they'll know." Metal joints squeal, as he shifts his stance - As if eager to take flight, eager to soar...Or just anxious to be away from here, pacing on the arching claws of his feet. He hunches, now, as if remaining upright is too much of a strain to his altered form - as if constantly fighting to temptation to drop to all fours.

"Anon-" Daegal hasn't moved; holding himself rigid, holding himself absolutely still. The beseeching note to his voice belies the unmoving, ever-vigilant mask that is his face, now. "Can't you-"

"...Can't you do something?"


The Arsenal Beacon unlatches from your back, with a hiss of magnetic clamps. It thuds against the ground, as you set it down next to him; this close, your sensors paint a merciless picture. The damage to White Licorice's fragile form - what remains of it - is deep and rending; worse still are the fibrous growths that have ruptured within her, that have erupted forth from the cracked joints of her limbs, aspirating the wan glow of Essence-

...She's bleeding out. Halfway to being *reshaped*, like Chiffon Doll.

"I don't-" Helplessly, now. "...Anon, I don't know what to *do*-"

[ ] "Rook's right. We can't stay here."
[ ] "-That arm has to come off."
[ ] "We can't take her with us."
[ ] "We'll take her with us."
[ ] "It's all right, Kazuya. It's all right. There's nothing you can do."
[ ] Free


>> No.38371228 [View]
File: 690 KB, 1087x2000, jokerdaegal.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


> "Don't worry."

"Wha-" Daegal turns. You hear the hiss of his breath, turned into a static blurt through his speakers - His hand trembling, even as you thumb Rubicante's hammer back.

The flames that dance in Azazel's eyesockets - they narrow, diminishing.

"Yea, though I walk through the vall-"

Rubicante booms painfully in the great hall. The brutal noise of the shot makes Daegal flinch, wincing aloud - the single whiplash buck of the revolver marked by a halo-splash of scattering ceramite, as your shot hits Azazel in the side of the head. His helmet comes apart; Pieces of shattered cranium splinter free, as his headless body rocks back, rolling over-

And even before he hits the ground, he combusts from within. Liquid flame spews across the tiles, as he becomes a fireball - His form consuming itself in a ferocious, dirty fire, a column of filthy black smoke rising into the still air - Long tongues of sickly fire shooting up and out of the chest cavity, thick flames enfolding the headless metal ruin.

> "Look him in the eye. He's chosen to live and do evil by the sword. He's made his choice, and now one way or another he'll pay for it. Remember the horror of this, and never be like them."
> "Let the wrong person go and they will use the opportunity to come back and pay you back with an assassination attempt. Possibly after commiting a few atrocities."


There is a new note in Daegal's voice - His baroque facemask never changes expression, but you can feel his eyes on you; Staring, discreet whirrs and clicks echoing from your sensors as they hunt and probe. The deep, metallic grate to his words belies the way he looks down - The Immolator lowering, slowly, to his side.


>> No.38215319 [View]
File: 690 KB, 1087x2000, jokerdaegal.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


There is a figure at the end of the hall, a gleaming figure familiar and alien at once. Iron Ogre's horned, ox-headed crest rides high on one pauldron - Eyeslits burning with the blue fires of discharged force. The other forms a lion-head, snarling defiance; unfurling into ornate high-collared half-armor that gleams like gold or hammered bronze, worked with exquisite knotwork and tooled etching on the main plates. Rich crimson fabric flutters in the spontaneous winds, with the serpentine rustle of overlapping scales...

-An Assault Shroud.

Close up, the armor's inspiration - Beneath the gilded surface, beneath the serpents that curl around the seals of the gorget, the suns, stars and moons of all phases running around the embraces and the arm-guards - becomes clear. There is a heraldic significance to the war-armor, one captured by the forges of the Hollow Sun in every mark and engraving, every inscription and device.

Your story.

There, on the right arm - Blue light fuming from the joints - is the unmistakable mark of the Helix Gauntlet. The ruby icon on his breastplate, glowing with flickering inner radiance...The fires of the Cobalt Booster, refined for a singular host's use.

The actinic green radiance that burns in the eyeslits of his helm - Stylized like an apex predator - that sweeps across you and lights up your sensors with a handshake of exchanging data, as the light of a new ally flickers into existence...The Argus Sensor.

All from you.

All *because* of you.

And a name:



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