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'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'

The manic, battle-hungry, extra-gluttunous, senient pile of Plasmophlemge

0 · 323 views · located in Phyrexian Grassland

a character in “The Garden: An Arcadian Boneyard”, as played by Lazyscreename


Name: Experiment 'Sludgepile'

Nickname/Alias: Qwerty

Age: 9 human years, though is considered to be more akin to a teenager mentally.

Place of Birth: Ectorion Laboratories; Genetic Research Department; Section 52

Species: Genetic experiment

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Gender: None technically, but considers himself male.

Personality: Despite his previous experiences, Qwerty has little qualms with with following orders from those he is under the employ of, as long as their is a promise towards two of his favorite past times, violence and eating. In this respect, he is of an immensely single track mind, working obediently in hopes of being able to gleefully maim, smash, and kill, finding the concept of violence as unending entertaining, much like the nasty child who enjoyed not only pulling the wings off a butterfly, but also promptly squashing it with their fist afterwards. He revels in any damage done by his own hand, or deaths, though if such treatment is done towards him he could be considered a bad sport to put it lightly, often snarling in rage as he attempts to get his own back. His time with the mercenary group Shenanigans Incorporated has only intensified his lust for combat and destruction, often jumping at the chance for a fight, only orders specifically against such a thing keeping him in track.
If he had ever heard of the term an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, Qwerty would wholeheartedly agree on this approach to revenge, often holding grudges for longer than he remembers the cause of them, and constantly plotting on how to get his own back. All this to the extent he would ordinarily refuse to work with nearly anyone he considers an enemy without either an extremely tempting offer or some serious amount of leverage over him, often the later having been chances of inflicting revenge when they least expect it.
His thirst for battle is rivaled only by his ridiculously gluttonous tendencies, often being easily distracted by the slightest morsel of food, and would happily jeopardize a mission for the sake of a hamburger. Or a kart full of hot dogs, judging by his monstrous appetite, easily scarfing down a life supply of rations selfishly and often more than not, would refuse to share a single scrap. It is often his only and most certainly favorite past time, and has eaten many a restaurant out of business.
Despite being immensely self-absorbed, often show whenever he throws a tantrum or sulks if he does not get his way, and has little of any interaction with people other than when it coincides to his two hobbies, he is terribly lonely, though he is terrible at attempting to rectify this, he rarely ever spends time alone, often clambering after whoever is the nearest thing he has to a friend at the time, or at the very least, a familiar face. He secretly has a deep longing for family or friends, but would never admit it if pressed on the subject.

Appearance: Standing at ten feet tall, Qwerty is an orange gelatinous behemoth with a pair of bright green eyes, and the shape of an immensely overweight human, including a rotund belly, thick flabby arms and legs and a wide fat neck. Despite his humanoid form however, he only has three toes, compared to the usual five digits upon his plump hands, with an elongated neck, resembling much more like a snakes body than a human limb, and a rather near-featureless, anvil-shaped face, containing merely the previously mentioned eyes and a wonky smile, and his transparent body drips and oozes bits of the slime he is made up of casually and occasionally leaves splodges of said slime without Qwerty realizing.
In a decision made by his superiors in Shenanigans Incorporated, he also wears a pair of green sweatpants, as to not startle clients with his nakedness, though admittedly he has nothing to hide in such a state.

Spoken Languages: Multiple recorded languages on the translator that is upon his throat. Without the translator Qwerty would be speaking utter gibberish.

Theme Song: I Am Deathspank- Deathspank

[Combat Section]
Weapons: Uses a pair of large steel pipes as clubs

Powers: He's able to spit globs of acidic slime or adhesive slime which lasts for at the most for an hour, and is of a peculiar jelly-like state that can be resistant to some blunt attacks and weaponry from the genetic makeup of a creature known as Plasmophlemge, though with enough excessive force he cans till be harmed, and can switch to a slow moving liquid like state for a short amount of time that temporarily causes 'Qwerty' to be intangible and able to seep into small spaces, though can only reform in a space that is big enough for his usual form.
Has also has inhuman strength, allowing him able to smash through solid brick with ease, though destroying metal is somewhat more trickier for him. Regenerating from wounds over time is also a inbuilt skill of his, though the larger the wound the longer the time required. He also has immense resistance to disease and poisons.

Technology: Qwerty owns a translator embedded in his throat that records all uttered languages in it's presence then tries to analyze them to be used in the future. It plays the languages when it is presently being spoken by others in the same presence, translating Qwerty's intelligible murmurings for all to understand.
He also has negotiable understanding of what could be considered for modern day technology, such as computers and mobiles phones. Though his understanding is mostly of the 'that's what that button does' variety.

Skills: Qwerty has history of violence and ergo, some amount of battle prowess and experience, though mostly the basic kind of instinct and tactics you would expect form a hulking mass of slime, but nonetheless has some negotiable amount of experience with his powers. He also is owns amazingly gluttonous eating talents which won him the rank of 1st prize at an eating contest held worldwide.

Proficiency: Violence, and lots of it. He also like eating, with also a great amount of it.

Weaknesses: He is extremely weak to freezing powers, is intolerant of extremely hot or cold weather such as in deserts or arctic lands, and is unable to defend himself when in a liquid state to the extent if he was contained when in this form in a space smaller than his usual size, he would have no way to fight back or escape.
He is extremely lacking in agility and speed, being a great slow lumbering monster. He also can't swim and can be diluted by excessive amounts of alkaline, which equals death for him. He is also extremely gluttonous to a fault, the slime often eats excessively when bored enough and is easily distracted by food. He also has no real defense against magical attacks, having never really conceived or used a form of protection from them due to having rarely encountered it in his homeworld.

Father: N/A

Mother: Dr. Rianda Upsertis, the creator of 'Qwerty'

Connections and Affiliations:
  • Ectorion Laboratories, a scientific corporation simply created for the sake of study into any of the sciences no matter the cost. (now considered an enemy by them)
  • The Steel Stomach Eating League: a world wide eating contest host which rakes in immense amount of culinary sponsors, and a variety of delicious challenges for competitors.
  • Shenanigans Incorporated: A mercenary group rumored to have been started by a vengeful leprechaun that wanted his gold back, and specializes in revenge on behalf of the client.

History prior to The Garden: Experiment 'Sludgepile' of genetic research department section 52 ', also known as 'Qwerty' as dubbed by his creator Dr. Rianda Upsertis, was genetically engineered purely out of curiosity of if creating a sentient of the unusual element, the newly discovered Plasmophlemge, could be utilized for any genetic advantages. It was mostly harmful substance, causing acidic burns on contact of any matter due to being , surprise, surprise, acidic. Strangely it seemed to also contain plasma in it's chemical structure, and oddly despite it immensely acidic texture it occasionally just lay in slimy clumps harmlessly, refusing to burn through even the most combustible of objects. Through there early experiments it was discovered Plasmophlemge was in fact an organic life-form, in the same vein much like an amoeba where it's only functions were to eat and reproduce asexually, to which Dr Rianda Upsertis for some reason thought would be a good idea to fuse a large amount of them, though she had quite the reputation of considering genetic materials as playthings since the infamous 'Hipporaffe' incident.

After much toiling done by her, as well as those working alongside her on the project they ended up creating Experiment Sludgepile, who frankly was a messy pile of slime that was about as smart as a sack of potatoes at first,though oddly was as dangerous to touch as ordinary Plasmophlemge, and was more of a jelly like substance. It was obvious merely at his girth he was full of tremendous strength, and the slathering globs of 'drool' he left on the meal dispensers for him proved he had the ability to create globs of hazardous Plasmophlemge and bafflingly globs of an adhesive substance which seemed somewhat similar to it, though he had little else going for him, save a ridiculously powerful digestive system. After a couple of days of light observing of the newly created slime pile, they began conducting tests used on a variety of animals, such as block puzzles, pressing certain buttons in order and mazes, until it was found his mental readings showed brain waves much like of a human child's and was slowly understanding those who worked with him either in person or via intercom, and showed particular fondness towards Dr. Rianda, who often took charge of the experiments, wanting to see results first hand. She took advantage of this and ended up instilling a sense of motherly influence of the strange genetic experiment as it began to take form into a more human shape, an anomaly which the scientist that worked on the project believed could be down to influence with the only creatures around him, but could only guess, and followed the good doctors orders obediently through a multitude of experiments, and eventually led to a translator being embedded in his throat, for easier communication, as well for a wider look at the beings behavior over all.

As the years went by he matured mentally very quickly, faster than even Dr Rianda had anticipated, but this also came with Qwerty, his nickname given to him by the leading lady after his first encounter with a laptop he simply pressed the first six letters, found he was becoming more restless and disinterested in the experiments, seeming only interested in anything where violence was involved, such as hunting down prey, demolishing set up objects, or prying open steel containers. Qwerty even found ways to make even the most docile of experiments violent, and began only following commands by Dr. Rianda alone, otherwise would merely smash whatever equipment was set out for him in childish glee, and often sulked or went into a tantrum when scolded for doing so. He was starting to get into his problematic and rebellious years, and there was no sign of change arriving, though his appetite has dangerously on the increase, and didn't help when they experimented with more inhumane methods to discover more genetic abilities of his.

His greatest act of disobedience however was when Qwerty broke out of his holding cell and managed to escape the laboratories to end up wandering into an eating contests after causing gleeful destruction throughout two towns before he entered said contests, winning first prize, though most competitors dropped out due to be terrified of the gelatinous goliath. When Dr. Rianda Upsertis discovered this she furious of not only security managing to fail spotting a ten foot slime monster leaving the boundaries of the laboratories, but also of Qwerty's erratic and destructive behavior, deciding to order his termination when the lumbering lump of Plasmophlemge wandered back into his holding cell. Experiment 'Sludgepile' took this extremely poorly, when it began with a platoon guards firing alkaline tipped bullets at him, causing him great pain, due to it's neutralizing qualities in acid, though was by no means out of commission. He then went on a furious mindless rampage, proving yet again genetically created hulking monsters are never a good idea to dabble in the creation of, and along the way decided to sneak through the ventilation shafts using the very same ability he used to escape outside the laboratories, the ability to change to a liquid form. He used this in hopes of discovering the one who betrayed him, and managed to hear the words out of the mouth of the very one responsible, Dr Rianda Upsertis, that they ordered him to be eliminated for such insubordination and was too great a threat to be a mere experiment any longer. This announcement came from the apparently 'safe' surveillance room of the entire genetics lab, which was proven to be quiet otherwise as Qwerty murdered all who was occupying it after seeping out the ventilation shaft and reverting to his normal form, and in his violence inadvertently caused the shut down all surveillance in the Genetics Research Department, leaving him to escape even more easily than before as began digesting the so called motherly Dr. Rianda.

From then on he merely became a wandering monster, wrecking any location of civilization that seemed to treat him hostile, though put his wanton destruction to one side when managed to stumble upon any food, preferring to pig out, though in truth felt somewhat......... distant, perhaps even lonely, maybe. He was eventually recruited forcefully by the infamous Shenanigans Incorporated, a mystical organization of mercenaries who apparently specialized in dealing out revenge on their clients behalf. At first, Qwerty has immensely dissatisfied with having to follow orders again to say the least, followed by a man that seemed to have a bazooka who's rockets were literally filled with alkaline metals, until he found much like his first encounter of revenge, he enjoyed dealing it out immensely, and found the job satisfying in the respect it gave plenty of opportune chances to dish out violence, ending up using a pair of steel pipes as clubs during his service with the mercenary group, and often spent his earnings on more food to scoff down, but though he vaguely had some sort of company now around him, he still felt lonely, much to his puzzlement. Recently however, during a mission of taking down a crime lord of a drug cartel that killed the clients son, he was met with a flash of warm light spewing out what appeared to be a crack in thin air. It seemed friendly and inviting to the creature, more so when it told him in a soft voice; "Do you wish for true companionship? Perhaps a real family unlike that traitorous scientist, or those mercenaries you call your superiors? Enter the light child, you finally find what you seek. Do not be wary or afraid, merely enter the light and a chance of obtaining the prize I speak of will be become true." The odd slime creature foolishly thought little of the suspicious event to of been a trap, or perhaps was more hopeful and desperate than cautious. Either way, Qwerty rushed forwards until he was enveloped in the light, blinded as he was unwittingly taken away from the world he knew.................................

So begins...

'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile''s Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: Irina Neventelde Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile' Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Regulus Arcanus Character Portrait: Niko Neventelde
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Qwerty, aka Experiment 'Sludgepile', was having bitter-sweet feelings about today. Considering the recent events that transpired since he, though technically he was an it, having been transported here shortly after his latest success story in the murdering business, it was definitely the strangest day he had. This was a rather impressive feat, due to him being a sentient human-shaped pile of organic sludge wearing sweatpants and clasping on a pair steel pipes as clubs. Having gone through from a sudden series of rapidly changing events, Qwerty had ended up in the thick of a grand battle, perhaps even large enough to be a small war of sorts, and was loving every minute of it. However he was immensely infuriated when he was met with the sight of various husks being resurrected from the dead, while others that were already among the living were bolstered in strength, snarling in rage and frustration at the shadowy underlings, especially those that fell by his own hand earlier.

"You got to be f***ing joking! Do you b***ards have any idea how hard it was to murder that many of them? Sure it was a right laugh, especially the fella whose head I squashed by bashing the two pipes together, but they did tons of slashes and smashes and other injuries beginning with S's on me!? Granted some of them have healed up now, that's the case with this weird healing factor junk I got, but one of them tried to chop my head off! The c**t! If there dead, leave em dead, ain't fair otherwise you cheating cowards!", Qwerty babbled furiously, having indicated to various wounds that adorned his sludgy body, including a clean stab wound through his side, a missing toe, and the previously mentioned incriminating attempt of cleaving around half way along his long snake-like neck. It was obvious he was hampered by the numerous wounds on his body, his already cumbersome speed impeded as well as his advantageous strength, and though his wounds were still healing, it was occurring at a snails pace. He wasn't ready for being in the thick of it and he begrudgingly knew it.

As the husk hoard approached, Qwerty made the shaming decision to retreat, an action he never was comfortable with, but saw it necessary as he began lumbering towards the defensive line, grumbling under his breath as the shadowy underlings were figuratively and occasionally literally nipping at his heels. He hastily battered back a few husks that got too close, desperately pushing them back with his great steel pipes he wielded as clubs, as well as spitting clumps of acidic slime, as well as adhesive slime, in an attempt to slow their numbers, still scrambling towards The Nameless and fellow competitors striving to survive.
"This just ain't f***ing fair I tell ya! reviving the dead while im heavily injured is just a wimpy loser way of a come back!" Qwerty raged to no one in particular, now at half-way to what appeared to be an iron fence that wasn't there earlier, with all sorts of combatants fighting nearby.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Spindel Peridot Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: Irina Neventelde Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile' Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Niko Neventelde
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#, as written by duramon
The beginning of the end, the end of the beginning.

It was with a bang, and not a whimper, that a new being arrived to the field of battle. His stitched and scraggly top hat perching perfectly atop his head and a mask that hid his features jolting slightly as he thumped into the ground just ahead of The Nameless defensive line gracefully. His limbs not reacting to the fall he had partaken of from the outer edges of this material plane as he strode forward with the tapping of a cane held loosely in one gloved hand, it was mere moments after he landed that the entire ground upon his landing point was eviscerated along with the husks that had arrived. A cavernous hole created and flooding with the sands slowly as he proceeded to walk towards the main combat and its participants, a husk with glowing blade leaped towards him, and was swiftly met with an elbow to the jaw that surely would have sent the creature flying. Had there been any creature left to move, however instead the man lowered his elbow and continued walking with the world perpetually slowed around him.

He eventually arrived at his destination and removed his top hat and mask, propping them upon his cane which he lodged into the ground at the centre of the battlefield. However despite his entirely uncovered features no matter what way you looked at him, it was obvious he had a face and head, features like any other being, yet none could be seen and nothing was truly visible. Not even an out-line of hair, and yet it was certain he was not bald, his teeth and glowing red eyes were visible however, both horrifyingly sharp and equally able to rend flesh from bone. However it was with presentation of these teeth in an impossible grin as he removed and began the placement of these objects which began the beginning of the end, a strange dark aura manifesting in reality behind him, he kicked the cane up from the ground and allowed it to fly carelessly into the battlefield with his personal affects, and began his work.


He first launched himself into the nearest armoured husk, leaping into the air and slamming a knee into its skull, a hand reaching behind it to grasp its ally to use its own head as a pivotal point, a point he used to spin his body in a hurricane of kicks that crashed through husks and sent waves of wind that tore through rows of their brethren beyond the initial point. Upon landing he flashed far across the battle field and planted his footing solidly upon the sands, an open palm and rigid fingers meeting a husks spine as the momentum of his travel passed into it with full force, along with several thousand volts of electricity that chained across the immediate area, his eyes met a group fleeing to the back line, a monkey woman receiving the full penetrating gaze he laid upon the collective group.

He continued to flash all across the battlefield, elbows, knees, fists and palms colliding with husks at a rapid pace in dozens of fighting styles. Each impact shaking the entire battlefield or passing some form of power along through the enemy lines until eventually mere seconds after his arrival half of the enemies remaining forces had been wiped out, he finished off one more blessed husk with a flipping kick that left him sailing through the air in the opposite direction to its skull. It was with a light thump then that his top hat returned to his head and the mask landed perfectly in his coat pocket, the cane spinning and landing in his out-stretched hand as he floated above the remaining fighters.

With a graceful spin he landed upon the ground and brought two hands together, a clap ringing out that silenced all other noise as the man, or perhaps the creature ,placed its hands swiftly upon the ground, a dark energy flowing through its finger tips for a moment before it stood. Corrected its top hat and its tie and deftly stepped out of the way of a fountain of blood to its left, one that was simultaneous across the battlefield as the remaining army erupted into a fountain of gore and destroyed armour. An eruption that was followed by a shock-wave of shaking earth and immensely strong wind that threatened to blow away those who were uncharacteristically weak. The silence that had flooded the battlefield finally lifting with a roar of noise.

It was with this final hurrah that the man dissipated entirely, a piece of parchment floating down to a certain marble skinned Incubus bait within the field, containing a name of an inn, and the blood enscribed symbol that almost whispered its own name "Apocalys". In the distance atop the hill which all this had begun, the retreating head of a temple like Golem could be seen, the Grasslands clear of all its hostile life.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: Irina Neventelde Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile' Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Niko Neventelde
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#, as written by duramon
Rest arrives in The Nameless abode, and gratitude arrives in the form of breakfast interrogation

There was no rest for the wicked, and so the good could not rest either, or at least that was the way he looked at it. Without pause Aizen dashed across the battlefield, a tapestry stretching from his original point and reaching the rabbit woman who lay mostly healed next to the corpse of her savior, an alien woman whom had healed her amongst the midst of battle. With a delicate sigh he slid her eyes shut with an out-stretched hand and slammed the tapestry's wooden end into the ground beside The Black Rabbit, picking up her broken form in gentle hands and lightly nudging the tapestry with one elbow. It had been expensive to purchase, but it would seem worth it as the battlefield began to glow, the remaining people and the defended innocents vanishing under the glow of a large arcane rune. The recruits taken with them for the ride as the large group stood in a rather extravagant mansion, or at least one that used to be extravagant, at the current moment it looked more worse for wear.

With a light huff he lifted a hand in the air and with a slam and click the mansion shut down, the windows closed and the doors shut and an arcane buzz ran through out the floor boards. They would be safe for now, or at least he hoped they would, a few of the younger nameless squeaked or sobbed after the ordeal and he took a moment to go around with the older members to re-assure them and comfort those whom had lost family or close friends in the battle. Eventually returning to his place as everyone but himself vacated to various parts of the mansion, ushering along children and teenagers with encouraging words even as they wiped the blood off of themselves, they had been through this ordeal before and it would not be the last time.

With his final reassuring smile given out, an angered frown hung across his face. His blonde hair grew out slightly and a beard pushed through his jowls to surround his mouth, a smokey grey colour that now matched his hair, he crossed his arms across his chest and stared down the group of recruits whom had stayed behind to assist for one reason or another. "You all stayed behind for a reason, but you're not out of the woods yet, I've got people to protect and I expect you to explain yourselves. The same offer from the recruitment stands, but only for those who are useful for more then just hitting, their is no room for cannons in a game of survival and I need people who can do more then just fight, people who have the right morals." He quickly affirmed, with a grunt and half a growl as he picked at a piece of rib that had pierced through his torso.

"Temporary lodgings are up the stairs and to the left, you each get a room to share with a person of your choice, choose wisely. Tomorrow morning once we've made sure we are under no further threat I will come to your rooms and each pair will individually explain their reasoning and justify why I should trust them with my people and to represent them in further guild games. If you make the cut I'll De-brief you and bring you up to speed on everything that's going on, and what exactly this world is, if you don't its the same deal as the recruitment. You go home. A certain red headed demon is resting in the farthest room facing the front of the building, those who require healing will find their lodgings sufficiently enhanced by magic for their particular needs." He said, turning without another word for a moment and heading between a gap that had created itself in the wooden stairs, stairs that now split into two pathways one to each side of the upper levels, as the gap closed and the stairs re-formed he gave the recruits a kind smile and half-whispered "Thank you, all of you." before the gap closed and he was lost within the walls of the stairs, unbeknownst to them immediately taking his place by the bed-side of a particular rabbit-eared woman, his fingers templed at a peak in front of his face, resting on an unstable thumping leg as he began his vigil by her side.

The recruits and any others that had been pulled along were left alone to decide their partners for lodging, the candelabra's lining the walls fluttering out as the flames died low and eventually extinguished to leave the mansion in darkness, after all the fluster and teleportation the mansion would have simply looked worn and empty and the darkness would serve to keep this true for the new comers to its fold, it was with a rush of wind that the upper west levels of the mansion lit up, a singular candle waiting on a table by the door of each lodging.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
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Qwerty was still trying to wrap his head head around what just happened to the army of husks that were just here. Just as he was being over run, barely able to scrape a futile attempt to defend himself as he was covered in multiple wounds from the relentless shadowy minions, and despite his regenerative abilities, each healed wound was replaced with three more, the husks were suddenly being pulverized. Before the sludge monsters eyes, husks were battered, pummeled, beaten, crushed, and annihilated left right and center, the cause a mere blur as he wiped out the enemy forces, those attacking Qwerty included. As he scrambled towards the defensive line in a panic, Qwerty managed to catch a glimpse of the one responsible, a strange man with no facial features apart from red glowing eyes and a grin made of sharp pointed teeth, dressed in a fine suit and disappeared as soon a she arrived when retrieved a cane and top hat.
"Who the f*** was that? And how did that ba**** move so fast? It was him right? S***!", Qwerty snarled out to no-one in particular as he then slumped onto the ground in a mixture of exhaustion, being weighed down from his slowly healing injuries and frustration. In truth, he was relieved that the stranger had decimated the husks, but he was infuriated his lack of ability to have done it himself, especially by someone much smaller than he. After all, what use was a battle crazed monster that couldn't finish battles?

This question that was swimming around Experiment Sludgepile's head had no time to be answered, as it was replaced with thoughts of utter bafflement on his sense fading when a great flash of light occurred, replacing their surroundings with an aging but grand mansion, placing the members of The Nameless and the competitors that stayed in what seemed to have been quite exquisite and opulent, until time had done it's damage. Qwerty would have more time to enjoy this mansion as the widows and doors suddenly slammed shut, leaving him all the more confused but still immobile as he slowly healed, his puzzlement lowering bit by bit as he watched the Nameless comfort each-other, guild leader included, showing little concern for them as he swore under his breath at his injuries.
"Guess it was some magic stuff again, sure seems to be a lot more in the norm around these parts. Wherever that is.", he grumbled before his scowl changed to a slight grin as he found his leg was now functioning as normal, though the other was still dangling about from being hacked at. His expression reverted back to of disdain however, as he noted the through injuries from those husks beside his leg. His left arm was barely hanging on, his shoulder almost entirely cleaved through, while the other was still with a gaping hole at his elbow, while his chest and snakeish neck were littered with slashes, cuts, dents, and all sorts of wounds. Qwerty was lucky to be a pile of sentient plasmophlemge, he would of been very dead indeed otherwise, and he knew it.

"Great, more bloody hocus-pocus.", Qwerty then proceeded to complain as the guild leader slowly shifted into an older appearance, after his guild members had left the room, his smile replaced with a face of anger. Qwerty listened to his words with unusual worry until the powerful man left, via even more 'hocus-pocus' having split the wooden stairs in half as he wandered away through a gap he had made for himself, before the stairs came back together, shutting behind him.
Though the guild games sounded as if they held much promise of future violence for Qwerty, the slime based behemoth knew he had little other talents than combat, let alone morals that this group that mourned the dead and had genuine care for each other. He would have to lie his way in. He wasn't going to let the chance promised to him as he was transported into these lands slip away.

Qwerty now was left with a different predicament however; he would have to share lodgings. It was something he greatly un-accustomed to, often being given his own room due to his girth. He peered around at the other remaining competitors, fully confident that none of them would try to kill him in his sleep. Anyways, he could just return the favor and eat them while they were asleep. Qwerty sighed as he propped himself up clumsily, with his pair of pipes used as crutches, and sat up, before blabbing moodily; "Alright then, how the f*** are you lot? I'm Qwerty, may have heard of me, mercenary fella, made of plasmophlemge, good at hitting things with pipes. You ba****ds on the other hand I don't know anything about. Anyhow who wants to share a room? As long as you don't use some weird magic sh** when i'm sleeping"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
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It took him a moment to realize the woman wasn't going to respond, panicked as she was, possibly even in shock, He could feel the foul beasts weapons moving towards his wall of spiked death, the metal still red hot, it wouldn't cool for some time. It flared in heat with every breath he took, the cherry glow lighting up on his inhale and ebbing when he breathed out.

“That's not normal.” He said. He could feel it. This wall, these thorns, this garden of red hot death, it was his, he could feel it in his bones, like an extension of his own arm he could feel it. It made him sick, corpses impaled on the ends were being cooked gradually, others already having caught fire, even still, their allies impaled on what passed for his fortress, the empowered dead marched on them.

“Some fool is out there...” He mouthed the words, a laugh almost spilling from his mouth as he said it. They must've been on the way to rescue these two. He thought, a grin splitting his face in that moment, “Too slow~” He said, his voice a singsong tone, the day was weighing on him, he could tell. The cacophony in his head had died down to a low rumble, but he could tell, if he needed more, he could call it forth. The repercussions for him however, would likely be bad.

He could feel their weapon as it swung, couldn't see it, didn't bother trying. They would be pushed back soon. The stranger that is. Into the burning phalanx. In his mind their was no point in seeing a dead man. He would find it ironic in years to come, just how literal those words were.

Just as he was ready to write them off as dead, a reasonable sacrifice in his opinion. One life for three others was a logical exchange, cheating death in a mathematical sense, the stranger burst through a gap in the wall. Insanity! His mind yelled, who would leap between a pair of forge hot, razor sharp spikes!?

Wayland lurched to his feet as shadows slammed against his barricade. A deep rumble echoing from his throat, the noise in his head completely silent. He was waiting again, calm like a bomb, just waiting to explode.

He called to the steel around them, he couldn't make more like he would have preferred. He could move it however. Making the area nearest the newcomer and himself thinner, less the burning phalanx, and more the smoldering fence. Why can't people stay as reasonable sacrifices, and not endanger my life? He joked internally

He used the excess to enshroud the wounded man and the woman with him in a metal dome resembling the closed bud of a flower. He reinforced it to the best of his ability, drawing the heat out as not to cook them, that done he turned his mind back to the battle.

Wayland was spent. Wayland was content, content to let this man fight as he watched, using the tiny power he had left to keep the wall up, and that was it. Well, if they do get in here, I can always retreat inside the flower. He thought, patting the surface of the now cooled construct proudly. I've done enough fighting for one day.

It wasn't much later, as he could feel the wall around them ready to collapse that he was preparing to retreat to secondary defensive position B, codenamed the flower in his head. It was actually only named, and codenamed in his head, but that was irrelevant. He'd admit the guy was a decent fighter. He could see that in his shovel, see part of the mans history in it, but that was irrelevant also. Not his past, and he never intended to fight using a shovel.

Anyway, his mind was wandering. He was slipping, so damned tired, he blinked, and stumbled forth in shock, he'd slumped against the flower asleep, in the middle of a battlefield. He couldn't see the shovel guy anywhere, so, either he was dead, or judging by the number of bodies, and the lack of sound across the field the battle was over, and he had slept through the end of it.

He shrugged, leaning back against the flower. Waiting for enough juice to return for him to let the people within out, when a glow ran across the ground beneath him, lighting up in some arcane language he'd never seen before. “That's not-” His words cutting off mid-sentence as he was once again forcibly teleported across space to a new location. “-normal.”

He'd found himself in an unfamiliar setting. The room, presumably even the whole house, once beautiful was now in a terrible state of disrepair. Cracks ran through the walls from the foundation settling, places where the ornately carved wood paneling should have been gilt in gold, silver, or other precious metals were bare, most likely torn loose to keep the obviously hard hit guild fed. He could understand that, what does it matter if you have the most beautiful home, if you yourself were starving to death in it?

He was too tired to flinch when the house locked down, seemingly by magic, too tired to question the fact that a few hours ago, he had though he was unique. Too damn tired to be lectured by the very people/person that had had them dragged into the conflict in the first place.

“Bullshit.” Wayland spat as the old man had his say, and wandered off to god knows where. He made his way up the stairs, ignoring the still slight smoldering of his clothes, barely acknowledging anyone around him. He didn't even notice the lack of smoke from his mouth, or the odd chill in his body.

He nodded at the few people he recognized, from the battle and ignored those he didn't. His eyes lingered for a fraction of a second longer than he would normally consider decent on a certain silver haired woman, following her every move, igniting something primal in him. He found himself thinking about that as he shook off the alien feeling in his head, telling him to take her.

Between voices, hammers, and beautiful women. It was a wonder he was coherent at all. Those were Wayland's last thoughts before he crashed in the first empty room he came across.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
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Qwerty stood there silently seething, seeming to be the least in peoples interests despite his bellowing, and, arguably warranted, was ignored quite a bit. He grumbled under his breath as he sulked in a spot away from the other competitors, a scowl of discontent upon his face as watched his competition. He had tired to be social, a task he had always been futile in if it was not directly involved with excessive violence or acts of gluttony, but yet again his attempts to raise some friendly interest toward shim were dashed aside, though he was completely oblivious to how hostile he sounded, and very much hindered by his coarse language.

He kept his glare as he watched the occurrences around him. A man reeking of smoke and wearing a long black trench coat wandered deliriously off to find a room of his own, as a pale skinned woman with a number of red tattoos adorning her body ask after the said man in concern, after having previously greeted a talking monkey that scampered off to pick a room also. Qwerty merely took note that none of them apart from the pale white haired woman looked pretty tasty to eat, though then remembered the guild leader would probably be pretty upset if he ate any of the contests. On the bright side he overheard two of their names; Keres and Tioto. He also noticed some bloke holding a shovel and reeking of death talking to a teenage girl and for some reason, some thin air that appeared to be holding up most of the other conversation. Qwerty decided these two were the barmy ones that enjoyed having in-depth conversations to things that weren't there, being completely oblivious to the very real existence of Myon, Aera's soul half. The fancy looking robed fella with silvery hair seemed to have slipped away without Qwerty realizing, as he saw that he was very much ending up as the only one left standing around without a room of his own.

He reacted to this fact with stroppiness, throwing his pipes to the ground in frustration and letting out a snarl until he decisively picked the pipes back up clumsily as he carefully tried to retain his balance when retrieving them. "Fine then, I'll just have my own room, you d**kheads.", the blob monster aggressively blurted as he began making his way to find a room to rest in for the night, lumbering along with his pipes yet again utilized as crutches, glaring at the competitors he passed on the way. As he did he suddenly had the whole 'test' situation on his mind, the word itself leaving a bad taste in Qwerty's gelatinous maw.
Hell, i'm probably going to fail miserably in this speech stuff that ripped guy wants out of us. Need to think of some lies to say. I definitely ain't going to tell him 'that' though. Nope, no way, even if it does have a better shot of getting me in., he thought in his simple brain, becoming uncharacteristically unsure of himself, feeling very much out of his comfort zone suddenly.
He then knocked upon one of doors with a great heavy fist, demanding; "Hey, anyone in there? And any space left? Better be f***ing honest if there is or not!", his voice filled with venom, but obviously had strain from exhaustion, his lack of energy having to begun catching up on him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
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#, as written by Ritnio
"That looks like a problem... Do you need help with anything? I can't fix the armor but I could maybe help with the injuries..."

Myon looked at the damage which had been done to him and suddenly flew over to a now sleeping Aera. Noting the still present knife blade in the thigh, she panicked. Jumping to the worst possible conclusion, that it would get badly infected and then lose the leg entirely.

Frantically flying about, she accidentally flew into a wall sound at all as she flew through it. Much to her surprise she ended up in between the wall, unable to pass through what is behind it. She tried reentering her and Pravus' room but couldn't find it as she was lost.

"Oh no.....Who is going to believe this one? A phantom getting stuck in a wall. As if I have not caused enough problems, now there is going to be complaints about a phantom making noise in the wall. Why can't I fly through it?? I-It's so dark a-and scary.... Help me please!?"

She continued her cry for help which was muffled to anybody not inside the wall. To make things worse, she was flying around the building, passing by or through the rooms by the dark corridors which were the inside of the walls. Her cries must have disturbed a lot of people and she hoped nobody would be mad as she continued to look for a wall she could pass through. Perhaps the same energy which allowed her to take physical form is also preventing her from using her spectral form's ghostly abilities? Not that it mattered, all that really mattered was for her to get out of the walls before somebody punches a hole in one to shut her up.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: 'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
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#, as written by Ritnio