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[Comrade P.]

((Thanks Doc. I enjoyed drawing this, and I'm glad you liked it, too.

Sadly, I cannot imagine other characters we have on the "next level", what would they become. I might pick some folks from the waitlist and draw them at some point of their ways towards their goals. I've been feeling like drawing recently, and I think I'll do some more before it winds off.))

[Harry Baldman]

((Mr. Bird is perfection encapsulated. He is that he is. There is no next level for him.))

[Comrade P.]

((Mr. Bird is perfection encapsulated. He is that he is. There is no next level for him.))

((Sort of true. He's the best, really.))

[piecewise]

JOHN is filled with DETERMINATION

I have all the time in all the worlds.

Contemplate ways to assemble legs. Give the design some thought. Try to give those a little more sole surface than the standard "stick leg". Preferably come up with something like the design posted earlier, or better. Then proceed to carefully manufacturing parts with instruments at hand.

There's some degree of irony that I've been toying with this game idea for quite a while but it comes out now right when another very popular game also comes out with a similar concept.

Some padding on the inside might also be nice.

[5]
You make the legs and they are freaking perfect. Hell, they might be better than your shitty flesh legs used to be. They seem to move and act as though actually connected to you. You get no penalties while using them.

Hum a tune fit to fill my companions with DETERMINATION.

I imagine that your humming sounds like a Theremin.

"Yes, that will work very well. I just need to obtain the necessary materials to initiate the first several fire-based deaths. And I'd suppose the mechanism would work relatively the same for most any other ability. Yes, I see. Conventional systems of magic must not exist here, this is the realm of souls after all. If belief is what makes one strong... motherfucker. I should've been the one to kill the heart. Note to self, observe John for changes of any kind.
...perhaps this is linked to what I was doing with the plant. Greater numbers of ... FAITHFUL leads to greater powers, no doubt. Almost a self-perpetuating cycle if you can control your story enough. Which means attempts like lifting a pebble are meaningless, one requires grandiose displays to achieve anything.
...I recall something."

Go find the Engine Spirit.

"Engine Spirit. I recall you said you were created by someone, but not who exactly. Who was it that made you?"

"I was commissioned by The Conquering Great King to aid in the expansion of his kingdom. This form was created by an artisan, and my life was given by common decree. He decreed that I was alive and that I had the powers I do. And his subjects believed it."

Search around for some kind of entrance. If I see anything shiny, poke it with my deer shank and see what happens.

You're gonna be poking a lot of flowers then.

In any case, This scaffold has no entrance, but close inspection of the area near it reveals strange objects buried in the grass and soil. Small black rocks, smooth and oddly warm. When you move them, they seem to leave a faint reddish glow behind them.

"Yarrrr, what am I invisible, get back here you scurvy dogs ye forgot me.  Yarrrr, well the rest of you can baton down the hatches, hoist the sails, and keep ye scurvy hands off me booty.

Try to order the rest of the warbeast crew around and while I'm at it will a parrot, eyepatch, and pirate hat into being.

The ordering doesn't go so well.
[2]
Nor does that whole summoning your pirate paraphernalia

[Comrade P.]

[5]
You make the legs and they are freaking perfect. Hell, they might be better than your shitty flesh legs used to be. They seem to move and act as though actually connected to you. You get no penalties while using them.

((That's some damn convenient luck right there.))

John backs off from the complete legs and stares at them. He had no idea he was capable of craftsmanship of that quality, and that is really written on his face. After a few moments of admiration he shakes it off, attributing this feat of skill to beginner's luck, and puts the prosthetics on.

It's like they were there all along. Wow.
He walks around the fire pit. It's all right. He jumps a little. And freaking lands on his feet, first try. A few hooks and jabs, moving his feet quick, in a manner a fighter does.

- OH FUCK YES! YESSS! SUCK IT, DISABILITIES!

Go get myself some new shin guards. Or maybe some boots. Something that would cover my prosthetics. Also, retrieve The Gun from Xan. "Charge" five bullets with my blood, load them in the magazine. "Charge" two bulles with Xan's blood, keep those in the box for now. Observe the ruin exploration party.

[Harry Baldman]

Look up. Does it seem like a god's bum is suspended up among the stars? Or something of a similar scale? Or has this hypothetical thing flown away/been stolen already?

If no clues present themselves, check out the pillars. Are they the sort that you'd expect to hold up a floor or a roof, or are they somehow peculiar?

Enact!

[Toaster]

Investigate the ground and the bases.  Are there any hidden clues near the ground?  Not like my neck is good for looking up a lot.

((Missed me, PW))

[DoctorMcTaalik]

Hyenakles waves to the others. "Hey, Dino guy. Come look at this."

He points to one of the rocks. "Look, shiny. You like shiny things?"

Try to get the triceratops guy to touch the rocks. If he doesn't, examine one myself.

[Toaster]

He points to one of the rocks. "Look, shiny. You like shiny things?"

"I prefer rum things, really.  You think I'm some simpleton?"

Regardless, unearth one of the things via mouth.  Anything cool happen?

[Xantalos]

"So mass belief does dictate results here, my theory bears fruit. No doubt he has no normal name; a title gives him more power.
Hmm. I'll need to get people to believe I have the powers I did in life, then. No doubt the most effective method for this would be through mass murder in pursuance of my earlier theoretical extrapolations."

He looks briefly at John as he walks past.

"Hmm. You managed to make yourself new legs, congratulations. If you feel inclined, do make me an arm.
Ah, you'll take your gun back now then. I have all I need from it anyhow - if there's power invested in people with belief then no doubt their essence would in turn confer more power to the bullets.

Hrm. Allow me to infuse two bullets with my own blood, if you will - I wish to see their potential effects both now and after the fear of me is built up somewhat amongst the hells."

If John allows it, prime 2 bullets with my blood. Otherwise/then go back to excitedly theorizing.

[Comrade P.]

((Action edited))

[Execute/Dumbo.exe]

John backs off from the complete legs and stares at them. He had no idea he was capable of craftsmanship of that quality, and that is really written on his face. After a few moments of admiration he shakes it off, attributing this feat of skill to beginner's luck, and puts the prosthetics on.

((No nonono don't attribute it to luck! What about your FAITH?))

[NAV]

I made a character.

Name: Tim Marby
Soul: A cryptozoologist who spent his life searching for the invisible purple feathered mountain whale. Eaten by a visible red furred mountain gator.
Incarnation: An old fashion diving suit, the type with a big brass helmet. It's filled with salt water and all sorts of small aquatic animals. Voice sounds like bubbles.
Good at: Believing what he wants to believe.
Bad at: Being cautious. Being skeptical.
Hopes: Studying the infinite species in the infinite heavens, and finding an invisible purple feathered mountain whale.
Fears: Armadillos, and the mundanity of everyday life.
Need to survive: Needs to sustain his internal ecosystem.
Pockets: A blank notebook, some pens, a flashlight, 1 waterproof patch.

[Egan_BW]

does everything here look the same as the others see them to my alternative senses?

[Comrade P.]

((No nonono don't attribute it to luck! What about your FAITH?))

((The form is luck. The function is FAITH. That's how it goes in my head.))

I made a character.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Tim
Soul: A marine biologist who dove too deep and got eaten by a sea monster.
Incarnation: An old fashion diving suit, the type with a big brass helmet. It's filled with salt water and all sorts of small aquatic animals. Voice sounds like bubbles.
Good at: Biology and drawing.
Bad at: Caution because he's just too curious.
Hopes: He wants to study and record all forms of life.
Fears: Losing his notes.
Need to survive: Food, water, and salt.
Pockets: A blank sketchbook, some pens, 1 waterproof patch.

((In the waitlist you go))