u/Deicidic_Pilgrim

posted this to workshop, let me know how it is, i wrote the writings above players and the explosion symbol in hold 3 by myself in ibispaint

crowd control

what do you folks think, i used last hit state for this one not hitbox worldwide detection

finished this bumass third skill hold variant for my boss moveset

yes she’s meant to feint into walking for aura

passive is unragdollable, has hyperarmor on many moves but the wind up has a Weakness Duration, hitting them deals extra 6 damage and the boss repeats the move faster or with similar wind up, only doable once.

boss moveset rn, this is first skill
first two strikes deal ten, last deal 5 and 0.987 hp multiplier

thats all i’ll say i guess, i’d rather tell the whole thing after i finish this

Is it work in progress? Nyes, it is finished but there may be tweaks that i need.

You will have 125 hp. You cannot dash or sprint. You deal a lot of damage.

tell me yours, with an image maybe, too. These are mine, though I wont say the ocs names because the names are meaningless if
you dont know who they are. Im listing the inspirations instead.

1. Adrian Leverkühn (Dr. Faustus) Thomas Mann
2. Joseph Knecht (The Glass Bead Game) Hermann Hesse
3. Fang Yuan (Gu Zhen Ren / Reverend Insanity) Gu Zhen Ren
4. Lev Myshkin (The Idiot) Dostoevsky
5. Harry Haller (The Steppenwolf) Hermann Hesse

recommended reads btw.

*Under thick turquoise firmament, the still radiant sphere,*
*a traveler, with pockets of flowers, walked with the melodic chirps.*
*Thereon the sun flew across the sky a myriad times, as she came near;*
*A cabin, ever familiar past or through change’s usurp.*

*She bore gray flowers, from a place of noise,*
*as she entered the home, drinking its unchanging scent and hymns,*
*closing the doors on the colorful grey in cloys,*
*she sat, rotting and monotonous, in static tunes and in buried whims.*

- Most half assed poem for an oc you’ve never seen before.
(Singula Paragon’s the name.)

“A sin is a transgression, and the greatest transgression of all is to exist indifferent of my sanction.”
———

*Recalling the times of struggle; the trodding on soils bare and nude of word or sign; the scenery of grand cities met a moment later by its own ruin, inasmuch in its fleet as the hills beskinned to its pulsing, bulbous, searing core; comrades, they war, they wary, they weary, they were; all things agreeable and cheery, most concentrations of life and joy immolated under flames which burn souls and fuel minds, under hymns of love and detest. Recalling, too, bereft of bias, her own angelic son, to which she looked after as she returned back to her homeland, in the death of her husband. She could see nothing but ruins and void, imageries of which overlapped in space the sight of the bustling central Valhalla or images of its citadel, alongside its murals and reverence and hymns tangible as ill and cool air in the temples. Under her previous, childhood reverence of the nation, the undercut of that; immolation, mourning for the nation within its lively confines. Only her own son was something she revered so much, and yet she knew better than to revere, she, too saw his death in her mind, saw the death of all things in her mind, her own death, and what characteristic she worships of her own son is put in horizontal parallel with mud or manure, a laughter could bubble from her heart with how hilarious that may be, and it came from a sore throat. She did not move a facial muscle. Truly, it does not take a prophet to know the oncoming of all things, though she wished it took one.*

*But the expense of her memories, her nation, her own very God she used to fight for, even her son, which is a hibiscus that bloomed in winter—whether it his failure, or a miracle which is fleeting under destiny—they were nothing. She lowered her lids in thought, barely exerting movement on the lounging of her torso, nor the straight seating of her legs.*
*(Indeed, I have nothing to lose, for nothing I have is worthy to possess.)*
*From her very first seconds and to her decision to abandon the nation, which initiated the war between Valhalla and Pleroma, there were no regrets.)*

*She stood up, suppressing a yawn and comforted the somewhat sore joints with a tiny stretch.*

———

Alright, we’ll take her in the later parts of her time as a Stage 5 Mage, of approximately Small Country offensive strength for you to duke with.

Personality Strengths: Utterly immune to mental whims, which, while some mages are able to enact their mirages (such as the Shadow Mirage Pirate Admiral), it is because magic already breaks what is supposed to be logical causal chains of physical laws (such as, a mirage not appearing to an impenetrable mind). The infinite pain simulacra with mass instances of displaying transience, delivered to her by a Stage 8 Mage, an Archon, could not faze her willpower at all, as she walked casually into her wake from it.

Furthermore her brain is usually in a semi-ionized state, which means mental control or tricks will be trying to do their work on a brain that is like a broken, vaporous machine, it wont connect well even if it ignores will.

Main Difficulty with killing her is that she can survive being turned into an ionized state, ignoring her enhanced binding of atoms. In fact she ionizes herself and reassembles as a means to negate conventional damage, vaporization would do no good in the ordeal of utterly fucking her up. Her durability is also great as she was able to strike Wuming Mao’s suppressed golemic form, whose nuclear and electric binding force is nine orders of magnitudes higher than baseline and composed half and half of wolfram (Tungsten) and the unique susbtance within “pitchblende” (i.e Uranium), without much damage except for mental exhaust, as she did bait this foe to damage her brain in a way irrecoverable by assembly to elevate her mental propensity which served to amplify this strike, ionizing a solid two fifths of Wuming Mao completely, whereas the rest ionized ordinarily, the adversary still survived though, as forty fifth of a hundred of their composition survived. This means even ionizing Singula is a very difficult task to do, even moving her is, especially with one of her defensive magic.

Mobility: She can propel herself with energy, she achieved a speed high enough against the aforementioned strike against Mao to the point the air, in a spherical shape whose radii reaches the very clouds, were ionized for tens of minutes even when in a small island close in proximity to the sea. Aside from this, she can disperse into an electric and thinning mist and concentrate energy and matter to physically present herself anywhere in that vicinity.

Reconnaissance: She continuously emits photons which bounce back to her body, a whole, bodily retina. She, to surmise, has 360 degrees sight in all spots. However this has grown somewhat lack in use because at this point she is able to sense the directional motions of energy.

Defense: She absorbs all four fifths of opposing energy to be utilized for other means, while the last fifth is what she really suffers from in the end. She usually allocates two fifths to oppose the fifth which she suffers from, inevitably overpowering the opposition while storing the last two fifths for her storage, maybe enhancing the bonds between her atoms as a way to store it. She is able to resist changes in location and reversal of entropy, which she enhances in her honestly low-mid diff fight with Cirklo-Tailed Serpent Pirate Admiral, a mage whose gimmick is time loops. She later, in such urgency and life-threatening situation, unlocked the idea of Vector physics when fighting Ethel Genesea (another Energy Mage, specializes in vectors) which she realizes the existence of the Normal Force, and the technicality of equalizing opposing forces into the Normal Force, generalizing them into vectors that oppose her movement, which lets her somewhat resist Ethel’s vectors. This means that she can resist movements driven by mediums which would usually subsume or ignore movement that resists it, she addresses them in the form of vectors, but as a bloke of medieval setting, she did not know this earlier and did not know that Newtons Action = Reaction is the basis of durability, and one component of the basis of durability being counter-forces, symbolized as counter-vectors, because Newton does not exist here.

Offense: The four fifth absorption above also applies to counterforces in regards to your durability, so there’s a pesky one. She can compress energy to form solid objects, compress them into piercing, into cuts, into blunt force, into pure ionizing heat, streaks of propulsion, or more recently but a bit awfully compared to Ethel, vectors. What she learned to do, thanks to her past comradery with Mst. Sangis which brought this idea close to her mind, and her fight with Cirklo as well as the accumulation of its mastery against Mao, is to “usurp the ownership of a foreign composition”. If she takes complete control of your limb with her own energy (distinction here, not an energy which she controls from within the limb, but from her own energy she can invisibly emanate), it will not be your arm but hers, because its autonomy is under her mercy, and mostly because the relations of what constitutes something materially and what that something is, is a very loose concept, i.e. Ship of Theseus, this means she can damage a person with her same Main Difficulty of killing by turning that part of their body into foreign, where even rewinding them in time where they stand wont recover that limb. Of course, she is not as good as Mst. Sangis in this, who can turn people into her forcibly, to revive herself past a death which is already difficult to inflict upon Sangis.

Like any Stage 5’s, she can apply her magic without it travelling or touching, such as, inside you. Stage 5’s always have countermeasures against this, but what if you dont…

Sometimes she stores potential (dont even joke lad) energy in you, and erupts them while amplifying them in a single strike. She can also create biases in structure using this notion, creating artificial weaknesses or structural cores, which aligns with a persons atomic bonds and hijacks the energy of their durability, and can alter what they are capable of, maybe they cant disperse into a mist anymore or they are more fixed in form, this can still be erupted, but since the potential energy leaks a bit, its only slightly weaker. The method of transmitting potential energy can either be her striking you or you striking her, even her clothing.

She’s also able to slightly jitter and move, searing, even when frozen in a static frame by Shadow Crown Pirate Admiral, when she realizes that things cannot be fully frozen and immobile.

Now mind you, your child and my daughter here will battle in a scenario where killing you in any specific way will not contribute to her plans, this means that your original character must be able to survive on-sight ionization or outsmart around its possibility to proceed to actual fighting. Since she actually has some fame as a pirate hunter under Pleroma’s favor, you can choose whether or not to have prep time to somehow weave through that prerequisite before this sentence.

In her setting, souls and spirits deliberately do not exist.

6’3 in height.
She is 45 years old.

Besides the matchup im also eager for feedback of the art, the writing, and the abilities.

Veritas Bellator, who starts from somewhere building level to High-Outer later on. Of course I must define Outer and High-Outer first.

Contrary to popular belief I don’t think Outer is necessarily transcending dimensions. Dimensions are but one shape of what it transcends, one among many possible forms of what Outer transcends. The essence is that of an infinite hierarchy wherein every element is superior to the previous in such a way that an infinite multitude of the previous will not be sufficient to reach the next element. An infinite cube will not level a hypercube. To be beyond all extensions of this hierarchy, by qualitative means, you are Outer. To however declare one is beyond an Outer folk the same fashion they are beyond dimensions is to be one layer above baseline Outer. An infinite reiteration of transcending the Outer below as the baseline Outer does to the first hierarchy creates an Outerversal hierarchy, and being unreachable by all extensions of this hierarchy, finally one reaches the infamous, fuckery High-Outer.

anyways, I lost the first draft because in it, the device whereupon the reddit dwells, the reddit does not have draft systems, pardon my rushing. This character will not be as well written as my other ones and may come off as mediocre because I admit, this is for a side story, a side universe, it is not my main one, like the one with Singula Paragon.

In this world there are different magic systems in the next continent or nation you go to, because the underlying phenomenon of all the magic is secret and almost nameless, it is in reality the Consensus Reality system, belief makes reality. Mortal mages bend the laws of the physical and dimensioned world, the Angels most commonly represent or rule the immaterial and undimensioned laws, but in symbolic ways mostly, not a direct abolition of these metaphysical things. An angel of abolition will use that symbol to bring spiritual abolition to a foreign and outsider enemy, for example, and depending on what the culture means by abolition, either it is physical and spiritual erasure of being or a banishment into unpleasant purgatory. An angel whose work occurs in the tribunals up above under the concept of Judgment will allocate you to purgatories according to your deeds under the local belief standards. An angel of messengerhood will utilize concepts of travel or enlightenment to allow its voice to reach anywhere beyond even veils of secrecy magic or otherwise.

Mind you, every pantheon may be unique in its workings, this is a rough generalization.

While there can be hierarchies between angels, or more generally the subsidiary divines, such as seeing the angel below as a facet of the one above and as inferior to the above angel as mortal mages are to that lower angel, or seeing that lower concept as something regulated by the higher angel, but a god, even if one were to allegorize the difference of a mortal mage and an angel by how many acres of land they can destroy in a strike, a god sits still in their position of superiority in this allegory, not allegorized as an extradimensional entity or an angelic being. Now, it is especially the gods that can be tricky to generalize, they are quite diverse.

There are five layers in total and we have covered three of them. The fourth is secret and almost nameless, unbeknownst to many, not even to some gods, however it is often called the Adversarial Plane, the suppliant of power to those which seek to rebel against the local divinity, able to take down the gods and harm their being. However gods that can temper or abolish these agents of rebellion (which can indeed be humans) will be strengthened, as the masses are more assured of them. The fifth layer is utterly nameless to all.

In platonic allegory, an angel is the object with which the light source projects their shadow onto the imperfect material world. Gods are the ways in which this light behaves, what defines “Projection”, maybe the Form of Good itself.

Very rarely do humans become deities, gods are often born of desires, whereas humans try to appeal to them, it is very different, and since then all nations that worship an egregoric god had thus triumphed all nations of human born gods, so by the stroke of the times, these ones have disappeared. There are however gods as weak as strong mortal mages, they were gods whose nation had fallen since times relatively forgotten in records, their source of power is their own belief in their own existence by credit of their ability to see, smell, and experience, and their memories of having used great godly magic.

Our protagonist is born within a nation which inhabits a land of many mountains borders of communication and also familiarity, enclosing local beliefs under smaller areas to which when one side of the mountain, a magic creature materialized from belief lurked to the other side, that alien unfamiliarity corresponded too, to the later discovered people of that side of the mountain and their different gods. By this threat of creatures made both from past historical times and fear of the outside, and the limited land, wars often happen and had so converged into a dominant empire, possessing colonies. It worships a polytheistic pantheon, believes in a world of chaos where the mind and the world is itself in a war, for the world flows in its causality like in a deep slumber unresponsive to woes of human and animal alike, war and conflict is confined even within the tiring plowing of land, of hunting, of the decay that change brings, of the sin of heresy all outside nations do by worshipping their own gods, and whatnot. Their godhead is one of the domains of combat, the others are supposedly equal, but thanks to the fetishization of war, this god is elevated in reverence. One tenet of this god is that it knows the Way, there is a truth unchanging through past and future, through all directions from the east to the west of all the globe by which this world of conflict will be tempered and paradise is achieved. By war, does this hygienization occur, and by hygiene, it also includes oneself, a worship of internal cultivation led to stories and myths, and so the existence of legendary enchanted weapons (part of the local magic is enchanting weapons or items, therefore), but it also includes the idea that lukewarm worshippers, half-assed in their reverence, are as open to foreign ideas as heretics. Strength in numbers, and yet the body is metal or wood, it is not the body of the individual but instrument of the nation, and an outlier is also a subject of hygienization. For the warriors prize save for the greatest ones, the weaker folks, non mages or others, are entitlements of the strong. The great warriors are expected celibacy and non-indulgence as symbol of their willpower, for silence to act as signal of vigor.

The parents of our protagonists, in spite of having tried to accommodate her for some years, feared that she may be quite weak, subjecting her to the role as good as currency, as entitlement, or just as something shamed, a chud like her as modern folks may call may not be so pleasant to take care of. And so the slums took care of her, very badly in fact, it is not pleasant, it tempered in her though a competitive spirit; quite grumpy yes, as much as her body may seem stable or unchanging by the minutes, a rapid, hissing, and cauldronful of chemicale boils within and sears. But it is also as if she improvises through every hour and day, with only bad agents to violently play a struggle of possession with or good agents she mistrusts, which does not say about them I tell you. In this cold environment, she managed to make a campfire for herself, which is the belief of this nation, the god which ruled the domain of combat. It brought her comfort, it brought her justification for her anger too, but most of all it characterized her enough to be noticed and picked up by under workers of—mainly—the sisters of the near temple, which shortened the proximity between Veritas and the theological sphere of the nation.

Curious how her story parallels the nations.

This was her new home, as good as parental figures, with pairs of actually good siblings. It gave her something which protected her, something she must protect—and let her be honest, some status she liked—and something she can dislike outside forces for. Some days she felt as if the god themselves were keeping her safe under its eyes, under the astonishing feat of hers to find their light even under dark hours in the past.

And as the days go by, as she agreed to be a crusader and so became a top crusader by the age of 37, life’s gone pretty well and dandy compared to before.

As a youngster in the slums, to battle disease and scratches, Healing was her first magic, and now it is elevated further. Her injuries can recover a quite stronger version of what was lost, even as a raging skeleton she could be as or more strong, like a mad ghoul. By sight or by mere touch if the opponent is strong can she exaggerate their regenerative abilities to afflict dysfunction to their body, create a myriad spots of cancer cells, and if blessed, shapeshift an opponent to such an extent that they may share their brain with a hundred smaller organisms within their body, sharing wills with Veritas, and thus she can hijack their consciousness to split under a hundred agents, their magic utilized in ways outside their permission. She uses a halberd. She is maybe of the capability to destroy a large building, a speed so quick in strikes, agility and travel—so implicitly, perception—capable of heating up the wind into hot fluid as she passes through it, expanding in a shockwave.

However, she had doubts one day. Doubtless, as it occurs to all, that the works of war lead to unpleasant memories, inflicting violence or seeing the death of one’s comrades. The afterlife, the heaven, is reserved for those that fight for the nation, now they may be the guiding spirits of the future generations, but in times of crisis or the final push against the world, be delegated the role of undead soldiers. Was it really such a good existence to be in war and struggle perpetually? Is this the vision of the god for the harmony, eternal in its potential manifestation and the sole end of all means? These murmurs escalated to vents to close companions, the leakage of which caused her accused of apostasy, and the abandonment by her own cherished god. Here she returns to the coldness, like that slum, like how her own parents had abandoned her, so not even divine favor could save her from struggles. Now she finds too that the mindset which tumbled the events of her life of suffering, was also a virtue upheld by scripture that the lower are entitlement of the nations powerful. So now she doubts even divinity itself. Funny to me is how the grand rebellion against the gods is confined in a smaller lens, like a compression, reflected in something as simple as being abandoned by her own family in contrast to the grandness and complexity of divine rebellion.

This is where she starts a descent and also an ascent, a descent into vengeful denial and an ascent to godhood. Her own power however, is herself. Her title is the God of Blasphemy, and her laws consists entirely of “I will not allow…”, “I do not believe in…”, “The falsehood of…” and so on, and it most decrees the denial of the divine. She, therefore, became the Great Adversary, the first of such phenomena. This is where she is High-Outer in my definitions.

Her abilities are as such; The refutations of magic stemming from the divine (which is every magic here, but this can be crossed under negation of magic)
The ability to damage gods by harming their worshippers or totems of worship, like monuments, symbols or statues.
The ability to separate a god and their domain, having the domain operate independent of their control if she understands said domain.
The ability to analyze gods, and thus all things and spot weaknesses in its physical, immaterial, and divine structure. Once she dismantles the core of a god or anything else, she can see all their weaknesses, and see the refutation of their benefits, to see the absence of the grounds for their existence, and her strike will be able to instantly kill them in material, immaterial or divine planes. Sometimes however this will become fatal blows and not an instantaneous kill.
Minor things include how her material, immaterial or divine composition cannot be described in words, but mostly as a blank page, or an indecisive and argumentative of terms, mostly her immaterial and divine composition. To occupy a space within her is to be subject to refutations, erasure, or indeterminacy.
General thing for gods is some immortality. Other than her not aging, the fear of her by the populous, or even the unconscious fear of the refutations of gods or worldviews (which dwells in the fourth layer as distorted, mindless versions of the current divines) could bring her back or keep her alive. The stronger the god, the more fearful it is for them to be refuted, because it may be that their very strength is because the general population must perform against the possibility of their negation, i.e., cope.

The greater the divinity, the higher her vengeance and thus her power becomes, and since irony mocks more fatal the reverent things which are praised higher, the greater divine will fall way more in power if she finds a way to refute them.

She does not have worshippers or angels. only her own will.

The fourth plane, which supplies her and potentially is a place where she belongs, an Adversary, something beyond a God, (though she still struggles against them) is the birthplace of gods. It is the trauma of all living things, of raw reality which is given a face that cares for the minds woes, but not yet granted an entire pantheon. The fifth layer, which she occupies in the end of the story, is raw reality itself, bereft of narratives, but also affirms narratives. It refutes affirmations and also refutes refutations, before refuting itself. Here one can dismantle all narratives (like, ideology, not narrative planes okay) and subject the mirages of divinity into raw reality, but the aftereffect to the inhabitant is that they don’t feel the need to. She, the first to inhabit this plane of awareness and transcendence, lives as a regular gal. Even under such a void god, there was still a voice screaming out these negations, and so a mind behind that voice, which thereafter doubted its own doubts and refuted its own refutations. Finally, between the thesis of divinity and the antithesis of Adversary, this was her synthesis.

There was one god she could not kill, which was ironically bullied by other gods, but it is a god whose core idea is self-negation, that behind all statement and decree there must underlie below it the preparation for that decree to be refuted, and to strive for a better decree after. After it survived her mass deicide, it gained lots of aura. (Though this god, he was also pretty cute so there’s a potential second reason.)

This is my low quality sketch of her, this’ll be your bottom 5 art your eyes had laid on during your current day, pardon me for I illustrated her mostly so my quota to bring visual to this post will not be completely zero… But this does not seem to purely be a match-up, I may have loredropped too… The illustration is of her crusader days. You are free to choose between her as a crusader or her as a god, which to fight.

also how is this, is this sufficient enough writing for a high-outer character to not be seen as slop? i feel a little guilty.

Edit: Forgot to say, I know also that there is a dissonance between the strength of the gods and how there are no human gods, so how come Veritas became one? Well, I’m also trying to find out how, I did say this was a bit incomplete guheheh.