Longtime RPer that has not RPed in a hot second. Pondering a return from a self-imposed exile.
Where I Am
Currently Running Nothing at the moment, but maybe keep an eye out.
Currently Participating n/a. Maybe it'll change? ;)
Honors
"He's a two-faced bastard of a GM."
"He's American. Enough said"
"He abuses us with lenny faces"
Comment: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
"He hates the gays"
"Wait, since you're a hitman, can't you just scan the bar code on the back of your head and just bring your post back?"
"I have never met a more horrible, selfish, ungrateful human than Hitman. I wish I didn't have to live inside his body 24/7 for the rest of my pathetic, meaningless existence."
The early morning light would shine through the windows of the Night Raid headquarters, signifying that morning had come again. One of the occupants of the building would slowly awake, stirred by the rousing sun. She laid spread on the bed in her room, dressed in a simple pale gray nightshirt, which reached down to just above her knees. She closed her eyes, rolling her head away from the windows, but eventually the bright lights would be too hard to avoid, and so she stood, stretching her lithe figure, before exiting her room.
The tactically positioned headquarters of Night Raid was built into the side of a mountain, about 10 or so miles from the capital. Kylie entered the main room of the hideout, noticing the presence of several manilla folders on the table typically used for meetings by the members of the group, which meant one thing- a mission. Kylie was giddy with excitement. It had been a long month of training after Night Raid had almost failed their last mission (several deviations from the plan and poor Imperial Arms handling lead to the death of a Revolutionary informant), but Kylie felt she was ready to go for this next one. She was dying to read the case files on their next assignment, but she knew from experience that the Boss would certainly want her to wait.
Holding back her desire to take a peak, Kylie sat back in the sofa in Night Raid’s living space, waiting for the other members to awaken. Maybe one of them would make breakfast. Kylie would offer to, but she was a horrible cook and cleaner, and attempted to perform cleaning duties as seldom as possible. Her body jittered in excitement. What was more exciting than a life-or-death mission to kill corrupt Empire officials, after all?
Personality Kylie radiates sweetness, bubbliness, love- basically the opposite of what Night Raid is considered- at almost every moment. She has a buoyant disposition that is hard to not notice. Very sociable, kind, and flirtatious, Kylie’s favorite pastime is simple socialization. She’s proud and stubborn, with a certain fire within her that can never be calmed.
A practical joker, fun-loving and a tease, Kylie would never seem like a Night Raid member. However, Kylie does have the key traits that a Night Raid member must have- caring for the people, passionate for her cause, and merciless towards the enemy. While she might clown around on Night Raid’s off-time, playing games and flirting with the other members of the assassin group, she’s dead serious when it comes to her assignments for the Revolutionary Army.
Likes: -Night Raid Assignments -Martial Arts -Sweets -Talking -Flirting
Dislikes: -Housework -Coffee -The Empire
Fears: -Losing members of Night Raid
Brief Bio: Born and raised in the slums of the Empire, Kylie’s father was dead by the time she was born, crucified in the town square, after he attacked a guard that was harassing his wife. Kylie’s mom struggled against the maelstrom that was the Empire in order to make ends meet for her daughter. As one could anticipate, Kylie was born with a brutal hatred of the Empire, and everything that it represented.
The Empire was not done with the Mariners, though. A drunk soldier would end up slaughtering Kylie’s mom in an alcohol-induced rage, and would remain unpunished. Hatred almost consumed the orphaned young girl, but she held onto the values she held dear.
Kylie’s burning desire for revenge sparked an interest in fighting, and at age 12, she began to use the money she earned from odd jobs she worked to get training from a former soldier in town.
5 years later, Kylie would hear rumors about the Revolutionary Army, and what they were doing. She set out to join them, where her various talents would certainly come in handy. After obtaining her Imperial Arms, she was transferred into Night Raid at the age of 19, a very young age for an assassin, and has remained in the covert assassination group since. Her position on the backlines of combat has allowed her to remain without a poster, giving her more freedom.
Imperial Arms Name: Hunting God’s Pride: Isari
Imperial Arms Picture and Description:
The Imperial Arms is an elaborately crafted bow with a matching quiver of arrows. The materials of the bow are crafted with the finest metals in the Empire, and the arrow’s tips are made from giant wasp Danger Beasts.
Isari’s arrows are poisonous, not to the same degree as Murasame, but enough to cause serious pain upon striking. Two shots is enough to kill most people, with three, four, or even five for the particularly resilient and/or shielded.
Isari also allows for the user to change arrow trajectories in mid-air, allowing for well-placed shots and all sorts of other ludicrous nonsense.
Isari’s arrows will regenerate, so long as its sheath is not damaged. However, it takes time, approximately 1 hour per arrow.
Isari does no accept other arrows, either. It’s very picky.
Imperial Arms Trump Card:
Cloudburst: The user launches the arrow into the sky, which promptly splits into 101 arrows, raining down upon an opponent with great lethal force. This ability takes a lot of energy from the person that used this.
It looks good, and I like your imperial arm idea, but I think it needs just a little more backbone. Try adding a bit into personality and backstory, and then you should be good to go.
Personality: Although actually very caring and somewhat prone to emotional spikes, Icarus exercises great control over his emotions. He comes across as calm, analytical and intelligent with a kind and caring side to him sometimes coming through, mainly around his family in Night Raid or those that need comfort in times of difficulty. This, however, is offset by how quickly he can transition to a cold, apathetic state when angered. He becomes merciless and efficient in battle, and won't hesitate to eliminate an enemy in the most effective way possible irrespective of personal honour or sacrifices. He does have boundaries though, and will never willingly harm an innocent person even if they defend an assassination target or call the guards against him.
He can, when under great stress or emotional assault, enter a more feral state due to the influence of his Imperial Arms, in which he throws away all morality and can perform acts he would normally detest, including taking hostages to manipulate a target or putting innocents in danger to facilitate his own escape. If not calmed by a close ally, he will keep going until he burns himself out, and will feel great guilt when his rational mind has returned to him.
Likes: Sparring, Chess, Coffee
Dislikes: Extortion, Alcohol, Drugs
Fears: Frequently plagued with nightmares as he battles with the Tyrant's lingering instincts, and deeply fears losing control of his draconic abilities.
Brief Bio: Icarus never knew his biological father, but he raised by his step-father, a kind-hearted merchant named Alexander Trystan, and his mother Lilianna d'Arc, Heiress to the d'Arc Family, a minor noble lineage. Along with his two-year younger sister, Jeanne, the family lived a quiet but happy life in a town near the eastern border of the Empire. He spent a lot of time with a local girl named Lexa Strauss and they became close friends, falling in love not long after. However, Icarus only a teen when a dark secret was finally brought to light.
Aged just 15, he learned the truth about his father: The man that gave him half his blood was a soldier at the time, who had gotten drunk and preyed upon whatever woman he could find. He had cornered and raped his mother, resulting in her pregnancy with Icarus. The shame and guilt he saw in his mother as she told him formed a hatred in him and after 4 years of training under a retired veteran from a nearby village, he left his hometown to hunt down his real father. Before he left, however, he proposed to Lexa and they agreed to be married once he returned.
He returned 6 months later, only to find his town under attack. Half the homes were on fire, and the corpses of people he had grown up with littered the streets as Imperial soldiers slaughtered and pillaged as they pleased. He rushed home, only to be greeted by his parents lying dead in the snow as his home burned in front of him. He heard his sister scream and fought his way to her. What he found lit an untold rage: soldiers were taking it in turns to rape both Lexa and Jeanne as they screamed and cried for help. Icarus saw red and immediately attacked them, killing as many as he could with whatever he could find.
Despite this, there was little he could do as they cut him down and let him for dead, alongside the broken and lifeless bodies of the two girls he failed to protect. As he lay bleeding, he became aware of a faint 'calling' and he dragged himself towards it, even though he had no idea why. Following his compulsion, he found an old family heirloom: a dark wooden box branded with a strange symbol, with no visible locks or openings. During the fight, however, the box had been smashed open, revealing what was inside: a dark-colored heart with blackened veins. Despite being sealed in a box for untold years, it looked as fresh as a heart cut straight from a fresh kill. He was struck an overwhelming urge to consume it, and when he did his body was seized in unbearable pain as he transformed for the first time.
After getting used the power, he began to terrorise the Empire as revenge, slaughtering garrisons and murdering corrupt officials for just over 2 years before laying low for a few years as he struggled against the Tyrant's instincts. He join up with Night Raid just under 2 years ago, but has managed to avoid getting a Wanted Poster by making sure no-one that saw his face survived long enough to tell any-one.
Imperial Arms Name: Tyrant's Heart: Fafnir
Imperial Arms Description:
This Tattoo, located directly over his heart, symbolises the presence of his Imperial Arms and its draconic nature. It is coloured onyx black, but emitted a blood-red light during transformations.
Draconic Physiology - Amplifies his physical traits like strength, speed and agility, as well as forming draconic armour around his arms, legs and back (including wings) Predatory Senses - Self-explanatory, grants much sharper senses. Evolutionary Abilities - With extended exposure, he can adapt his body to better resist hostile conditions (including enemy attacks), much like the Tyrant could in life. Supplementary Weapons 'Balmung' - Upon initial usage, Balmung took the form of a draconic sword, but can take on other forms if needed. This is mainly done manually, but can evolve itself during periods of heightened emotion. Known forms include a halberd, greatsword, dual swords, katana and even an automatic rifle copied from the Empire's soldiers.
Fusion - Great care must be taken to prevent the wielder from merging with the Imperial Arm and becoming a new Tyrant. This risk is most prominent during extended or frequent use of Fafnir's Trump Card, and this should be avoided at all cost.
Imperial Arms Trump Card: Draconic Manifestation - By tapping deeper into the Tyrant's power, all of his normal abilities increase 2-, 5- or 10-fold. As a trade-off, he becomes more and more susceptible to feral, berserker rage as he struggles against a stronger influence from the Tyrant, and is likely to blackout once the effect is dispelled . The longer he uses his trump card for and the stronger the boost in power, the longer he blacks out for.
Extra:
I could probably do with a better name, but none come to mind
Looking good.
By the way, for future reference, everybody should put if they have wanted posters or not in their form somewhere, kthx.
You still looking for people? I've got an idea I'd like to try if you're cool with it. It's basically a cross between Incursio and Lionelle. Using Tyrant's Heart as a catalyst, it grants superior physical abilities, senses and armour, as well as the Tyrant's evolutionary abilities, but at the expense of less armour and more difficulty controlling it.
I'll probably call it something like Tyrant's Heart: Fafnir, with a supplementary weapon called Balmung or Gramr
[center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/bf2nzzm1FFte0/giphy.gif[/img]
[h1]HITMAN[/h1]
"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝚈𝚎𝚜... 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑."
[/center]
[right][h3]Who I Am[/h3]
Longtime RPer that has not RPed in a hot second. Pondering a return from a self-imposed exile. [/right]
[center][h3]Where I Am[/h3]
[u][b]Currently Running[/b][/u]
[i]Nothing at the moment, but maybe keep an eye out.[/i]
[u][b]Currently Participating[/b][/u]
[i]n/a. Maybe it'll change? ;)[/i]
[/center]
[h3]Honors[/h3]
[quote=@canaryrose]
"He's a two-faced bastard of a GM."
[/quote]
[quote=@Danvers]
"He's American. Enough said"
[/quote]
[quote=@KaijuBaragon]
"He abuses us with lenny faces"
[/quote]
[i]Comment: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)[/i]
[quote=@rabidporcupine]
"He hates the gays"
[/quote]
[quote=@DClassified]
"Wait, since you're a hitman, can't you just scan the bar code on the back of your head and just bring your post back?"
[/quote]
[quote=@Hitman]
"I have never met a more horrible, selfish, ungrateful human than Hitman. I wish I didn't have to live inside his body 24/7 for the rest of my pathetic, meaningless existence."
[/quote]
[center]
老吾老,以及人之老;幼吾幼,以及人之幼
[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;"><div class="bb-center"><img src="https://media.giphy.com/media/bf2nzzm1FFte0/giphy.gif" /><br><br><div class="bb-h1">HITMAN</div><br>"𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝚈𝚎𝚜... 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎. 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑."</div><br><div class="bb-right"><div class="bb-h3">Who I Am</div><br>Longtime RPer that has not RPed in a hot second. Pondering a return from a self-imposed exile.</div><br><br><div class="bb-center"><div class="bb-h3">Where I Am</div><br><br><span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-b">Currently Running</span></span><br><span class="bb-i">Nothing at the moment, but maybe keep an eye out.</span><br><br><span class="bb-u"><span class="bb-b">Currently Participating</span></span><br><span class="bb-i">n/a. Maybe it'll change? ;)</span></div><br><div class="bb-h3">Honors</div><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He's a two-faced bastard of a GM."<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/canaryrose">@canaryrose</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He's American. Enough said"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/danvers">@Danvers</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He abuses us with lenny faces"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/kaijubaragon">@KaijuBaragon</a></footer></blockquote><br><span class="bb-i">Comment: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</span><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"He hates the gays"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/rabidporcupine">@rabidporcupine</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"Wait, since you're a hitman, can't you just scan the bar code on the back of your head and just bring your post back?"<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/dclassified">@DClassified</a></footer></blockquote><br><br><blockquote class="bb-quote">"I have never met a more horrible, selfish, ungrateful human than Hitman. I wish I didn't have to live inside his body 24/7 for the rest of my pathetic, meaningless existence."<footer><a class="bb-mention" href="/users/hitman">@Hitman</a></footer></blockquote><br><div class="bb-center">老吾老,以及人之老;幼吾幼,以及人之幼</div></div>