rush99999
LetsFly
Lemons
AlteredTundra
AsuraLet's be honest. He probably shouldn't win it, or at least. Come very close to dying to do it.
@Dazsos wut
@DjAtomika Long time.
@Dazsos wut
@DjAtomika Long time.
Rilla Member
SuperNova Generation
The Lazy Storyteller
STATUS:
It turns out that you can, if you message your friendly neighborhood moderator.
6 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
It turns out that you can, if you message your friendly neighborhood moderator.
9 yrs ago
Working, essentially, second shift blows. I hate getting home after midnight. xD
2
likes
9 yrs ago
Any day now, I'll have my first kid. Mini Rilla. #Awesome
2
likes
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
So I'll be needing one if you, able bodied and preferably very competent arena fighters. As you lot know, Kei'Taro lost most of his abilities in an off site tournament and has been on a mission to collect new tattoos.
One of the ones he lost was Kusanagi, his weapon tattoo. I need one if you to play his would be new weapon, Enma(popularized by Naruto), an extending staff. While what the challenge would be, and I'll explain once interest is shown, is up to you. However, his personality leans towards hating Kei'taro due to him choosing the snake over the monkey, whom are siblings in this story, fitting since they have similar base abilities - extension.
One of the ones he lost was Kusanagi, his weapon tattoo. I need one if you to play his would be new weapon, Enma(popularized by Naruto), an extending staff. While what the challenge would be, and I'll explain once interest is shown, is up to you. However, his personality leans towards hating Kei'taro due to him choosing the snake over the monkey, whom are siblings in this story, fitting since they have similar base abilities - extension.
So she's just using her doom aura thing on him then?
His energy now a Maelstrom of conserved power coursing through his body allowed him a certain level of confidence. His opponent had yet to go for a killing blow, instead seeming content with using her honed skills of fire manipulation. He could feel the searing heat of her power, as if it were warning him to hold his distance.
He had already committed to his actions, this woman had threatened not only him, but her own life. She sought to bring towns to their knees, and him as well. He could allow the woman to put herself in such danger. These were not towns to be conquered, the were towns in a lawless, wild west universe. They were rampant with outlaws, marauders whose only existence was filled with battle. She did not stand a chance, and in his way, he thought to save her from herself.
As such, when the fireball aimed towards his chest, he slid quickly to the left. The distance was so short that, even in his evasion his right arm was slightly burned by the attack. A lesser man would have changed strategy, perhaps had even been afraid of the firepower of the woman.
Alphonse, the Lord of Tragedy, was no lesser man. He had been in battle with those who flung fire with no regard for those around them, he had seen the very power of lightning, and the fearsome strength of the very ground they walked; he would not abandon his newfound mission.
With nary a grimace, he shot towards the woman, his plan already in action. He was swift, surely swifter than she could move on the back foot. He moved in time with her, aiming to close the rest of the distance in a matter of moments. Could she produce anything to protect her from the charging man, whose eyes blazed with a certain surety. Swords gleaming in the light of day, murder singing at their edges. Soon they would be the ones singing and dancing to their violent songs.
Come little witch, with your flames of power, burn at the stake in this lawless world.
He had already committed to his actions, this woman had threatened not only him, but her own life. She sought to bring towns to their knees, and him as well. He could allow the woman to put herself in such danger. These were not towns to be conquered, the were towns in a lawless, wild west universe. They were rampant with outlaws, marauders whose only existence was filled with battle. She did not stand a chance, and in his way, he thought to save her from herself.
As such, when the fireball aimed towards his chest, he slid quickly to the left. The distance was so short that, even in his evasion his right arm was slightly burned by the attack. A lesser man would have changed strategy, perhaps had even been afraid of the firepower of the woman.
Alphonse, the Lord of Tragedy, was no lesser man. He had been in battle with those who flung fire with no regard for those around them, he had seen the very power of lightning, and the fearsome strength of the very ground they walked; he would not abandon his newfound mission.
With nary a grimace, he shot towards the woman, his plan already in action. He was swift, surely swifter than she could move on the back foot. He moved in time with her, aiming to close the rest of the distance in a matter of moments. Could she produce anything to protect her from the charging man, whose eyes blazed with a certain surety. Swords gleaming in the light of day, murder singing at their edges. Soon they would be the ones singing and dancing to their violent songs.
Come little witch, with your flames of power, burn at the stake in this lawless world.
I do technically still live. This week has been a bit hectic but I plan om posting tomorrow. I recently moved(finally) and everything is pretty well done in the new place. Sorry about the length of time it took though. I also had to work nights and mornings between both jobs. Hahah.
She was far too hasty to be a viable threat, she underestimated him from the very beginning. Her mind was on the next conquest, and he was a stepping stone to that. She would learn to rue this day. They were in a world full of fanatical fighters, crazed by bloodlust, and creatures that towered high above. Could she, in her abrasiveness, conquer him - let alone a city.
Alphonse, Dessembrae, the Lord of Tragedy, watched as the woman lowered her hood. He listened as words flowed from her lips. This he would enjoy making quick, or perhaps slow and painful, surgical incisions that would leave her in a state near death.
Almost instantly, the bout began with fiery inclinations - a literal inferno like blast swept across the field, setting grass aflame in a dazzling display of premature power. The lass should have waited, built her power until it was overflowing and then released it. Instead she thought to either test the waters, or end it quickly. Either was to her disadvantage.
His own magic, the Chi, welled up inside him - beginning it's own cycle of gaining strength for later use. For now, he quickly sidestepped the flames, letting the extent of it bypass him. The heat slid along his body, warming him but causing him no damage. With the same step, he deceased the distance between them.
His plan would come to fruition soon, so long ss the distance between them closed at the right pace. Another few steps and she would be well within range for his swords to bite into her flesh, so his magic plans were firmly adapted for long range use. His options were varied, while her seeming lack of weaponry would leave her at a supposed disadvantage in close combat.
Perhaps he would take an arm first, but when the twin swords began to swing - their newfound merciless attitude might make a mess of things.
Alphonse, Dessembrae, the Lord of Tragedy, watched as the woman lowered her hood. He listened as words flowed from her lips. This he would enjoy making quick, or perhaps slow and painful, surgical incisions that would leave her in a state near death.
Almost instantly, the bout began with fiery inclinations - a literal inferno like blast swept across the field, setting grass aflame in a dazzling display of premature power. The lass should have waited, built her power until it was overflowing and then released it. Instead she thought to either test the waters, or end it quickly. Either was to her disadvantage.
His own magic, the Chi, welled up inside him - beginning it's own cycle of gaining strength for later use. For now, he quickly sidestepped the flames, letting the extent of it bypass him. The heat slid along his body, warming him but causing him no damage. With the same step, he deceased the distance between them.
His plan would come to fruition soon, so long ss the distance between them closed at the right pace. Another few steps and she would be well within range for his swords to bite into her flesh, so his magic plans were firmly adapted for long range use. His options were varied, while her seeming lack of weaponry would leave her at a supposed disadvantage in close combat.
Perhaps he would take an arm first, but when the twin swords began to swing - their newfound merciless attitude might make a mess of things.
There was a certain solace in the quietness of that humble field. Large as it were and clear of all but one obstruction, the former Warrior had an unrestricted view of any and all possible threats, unless they lay low and moved with unimaginable stealth. Even still, if they had not hidden their Chi, if that was their fancy, then he would still be able to detect them.
Said solace lasted only a few minutes longer, before the familiar feeling of magical manipulation danced at the edges of his senses. His body, on instinct turned in the direction that the manipulation had come, just in time to see flames burst marginally into the sky after ricocheting on the ground. The plume excited him somewhat. Someone had entered the field of battle. He didn't recognize the signature attached to the fire, it was someone new. Not that fire ninja of the resistance, whose flames would have been obscenely big - nor the mow deceased magma mage that had fallen in a previous war. Whoever this was had not crossed paths with him in times past.
Inhale. Exhale.
Chi flowed invisibly from his body outward, as be walked towards the source of power. Visually, he was able to make out the silhouette of the creature after a few minutes of walking. They were headed towards him, and he they.
Another minute, definitely magic being manipulated. His grip on the swords in his left and right hands tightened. It was a woman, that mattered little to him. That she had come to a field of battle and laid down the presumable gauntlet by displaying her magical talents.
As he entered what he assumed to be speaking range, he spoke in a loud, gruff voice that he would not recognize as his own.
That you wield majestic fire so abrasively is a travesty, even more so than the fire ninja of the Resistance. I have walked these fields before, and your wanton use is a direct challenge to all who would answer it.
His eyes glanced over her body once, his swords shifted ever so slightly, knees bent left hand blade pointed upward, right handed pointed forward. She was near the lonesome tree, some measure of protection was afforded her,
Unfortunately for you, I have answered your call.
Somewhere in the world, the universe, the master of the deal had to be watching - hadn't he?
Said solace lasted only a few minutes longer, before the familiar feeling of magical manipulation danced at the edges of his senses. His body, on instinct turned in the direction that the manipulation had come, just in time to see flames burst marginally into the sky after ricocheting on the ground. The plume excited him somewhat. Someone had entered the field of battle. He didn't recognize the signature attached to the fire, it was someone new. Not that fire ninja of the resistance, whose flames would have been obscenely big - nor the mow deceased magma mage that had fallen in a previous war. Whoever this was had not crossed paths with him in times past.
Inhale. Exhale.
Chi flowed invisibly from his body outward, as be walked towards the source of power. Visually, he was able to make out the silhouette of the creature after a few minutes of walking. They were headed towards him, and he they.
Another minute, definitely magic being manipulated. His grip on the swords in his left and right hands tightened. It was a woman, that mattered little to him. That she had come to a field of battle and laid down the presumable gauntlet by displaying her magical talents.
As he entered what he assumed to be speaking range, he spoke in a loud, gruff voice that he would not recognize as his own.
That you wield majestic fire so abrasively is a travesty, even more so than the fire ninja of the Resistance. I have walked these fields before, and your wanton use is a direct challenge to all who would answer it.
His eyes glanced over her body once, his swords shifted ever so slightly, knees bent left hand blade pointed upward, right handed pointed forward. She was near the lonesome tree, some measure of protection was afforded her,
Unfortunately for you, I have answered your call.
Somewhere in the world, the universe, the master of the deal had to be watching - hadn't he?
A simple field that has long grass, and a single tree. There is probably a picture somewhere lemme see if I can find it.
The disturbing sound of twin swords clanging to the ground, the soft patter of leaking blood, and the twinge of an aching heart brought back to reality a man long thought a myth. He was once a warrior, revenge and obsession driven to find a way to put a stop to a man who he had deemed a rampant tyrant. Long he had been on this path, ever since their first interaction. He had matched through futuristic wilderness, overgrown with metallic and silicone vine-like wires. He has slept in ancient fields where magic trumped man-made arms, and mythical beasts were plentiful and obliviously dangerous. At every turn he has failed at his goal, he had been within reach, an inch at the most - and still had not managed to gain the power to reach beyond that woeful barrier.
How he longed to end that man.
How the night seemed to laugh, as though his reach and rules and deals brokered controlled their very twinkle. The sun seemed to glare harder with each step, as though the untouchable had placed a magnifying glass between it and him. Each failure mounted up until he walked over mountains and oceans of each. It had started easily enough, a failure was a failure, and he could move past it. Each taught him something about the man, or something about himself. But now, each failure was another weight that brought with it another step away from who he was.
Who was he now?
No longer the warrior who danced elegantly with swords names after children, his own flesh and blood. He was not the man who had competed in the first tournament of many, a simple human against fantastical creatures of lore and destruction.
No.
Life had failed him, he had failed himself, and now he was something different than when he started.
His last bout had not been a pretty one. He had slaughtered the man, and his child, in cold blood with many swings of his left handed weapon. He had not flinched when the small child took up arms against him in defense of his slain father. Instead he bathed in his blood as well.
As noted sounds and pains bought him back to his reality, and baleful eyes cast themselves upon the open field. It was mostly empty, except for a lone tree and long grass. The latter swept across his pants, brushing against him in the light breeze. With each inhale and exhale he could almost taste the Chi that had been expelled here. Battles won and lost.
A flicker of life danced through his eyes, as they flicked downward and he saw the crossed weapons lay on the ground. Almost a second later they were back in his hands, his body part registering what had become an extension of his limbs. He did not return his weapons to their sheathes. Every fiber in his being told him there would be no need for that.
Have you had you fun, Liaison? The Warrior, Dessembrae, your hunter has fallen.
How he longed to end that man.
How the night seemed to laugh, as though his reach and rules and deals brokered controlled their very twinkle. The sun seemed to glare harder with each step, as though the untouchable had placed a magnifying glass between it and him. Each failure mounted up until he walked over mountains and oceans of each. It had started easily enough, a failure was a failure, and he could move past it. Each taught him something about the man, or something about himself. But now, each failure was another weight that brought with it another step away from who he was.
Who was he now?
No longer the warrior who danced elegantly with swords names after children, his own flesh and blood. He was not the man who had competed in the first tournament of many, a simple human against fantastical creatures of lore and destruction.
No.
Life had failed him, he had failed himself, and now he was something different than when he started.
His last bout had not been a pretty one. He had slaughtered the man, and his child, in cold blood with many swings of his left handed weapon. He had not flinched when the small child took up arms against him in defense of his slain father. Instead he bathed in his blood as well.
As noted sounds and pains bought him back to his reality, and baleful eyes cast themselves upon the open field. It was mostly empty, except for a lone tree and long grass. The latter swept across his pants, brushing against him in the light breeze. With each inhale and exhale he could almost taste the Chi that had been expelled here. Battles won and lost.
A flicker of life danced through his eyes, as they flicked downward and he saw the crossed weapons lay on the ground. Almost a second later they were back in his hands, his body part registering what had become an extension of his limbs. He did not return his weapons to their sheathes. Every fiber in his being told him there would be no need for that.
Have you had you fun, Liaison? The Warrior, Dessembrae, your hunter has fallen.
@RillaThen you have met your opponent (though this is my first time) . Got a character already.
Edit: Sorry, what you meant wasn't entirely clear. Do you want me to edit this post for OOC in the future instead of making new posts?
Oh wait. I see whst I did. I thought my post posted in the IC. I'll move mine over and you can reply in there
© 2007-2024