Infamous Empath

Hellion Exiles

@Thread Generator SIN@t2wave yup

Space Pirates!!!

D'ren half-smirked at her surname, but otherwise ignored Vescalla and let her throw back her "drink" and walk away. He continued to eye the screen's news.

In truth, the "Holy Cheese Sandwich was just a blended cheese sandwich mixed with an Irish alcoholic beverage. Pretty damn disgusting. D'ren didn't even like it. He listlessly chuckled as he eyed his near-empty brown bottle. If he was honest, he didn't like any kind of alcohol.

After she walked off, D'ren turned and observed the newcomers. Turning back toward the bar, he continued his drunken behavior as he flirted with the robot.

Small group?

seen the show Legion? you should. its what my sig is from.

i could do Asylum if there is a supernatural element to it. i also have Levi, who went crazy because he found out he was a fictional character and nobody believes him lol

Space Pirates!!!

@luna558 haha, was the theme song for one of my characters called...Killer Queen... an australian assassin in post-apocalyptic america

Fate of the Universe: Chosen Heroes!

just make one up.

edit: i dont know why i didnt think to have a similar conversation between D'ren and Eli, or another member of the Powers That Be/Defense Council, who would have sent D'ren lol

Fate of the Universe: Chosen Heroes!

"Home is Where the Liver Is"

3020 AD
The Underworld of Malevora

D'ren, Elijah, and other Defenders of the Multiverse

The android Talitha was possibly more fluid in her acrobatic movements than any real woman alive. Sometimes D'ren had to remind himself that she wasn't flesh and blood, as he lustfully observed her flexible movements.

They'd traveled to what had been the United States of America a thousand years prior. Now it was known as Malevora, part of Hell. All signs of humanity had long-since been razed, by time, nature, and the demonic hordes that had taken up residence on the Earth since the fall of mankind centuries ago.

D'ren had just learned, days before, that the realm he used to rule was nothing more than a post-apocalyptic version of one nation on Earth, no longer under God. This revelation made him angrier, and even more ready to deal death to the bastards who took his beloved Arien.

Captain Elijah Abdiel McDonnell led the Defenders, flanked by Talitha on his left, and a rebel ice demon princess on his right. About a dozen other Defenders, including D'ren, followed, dispatching demons, savage human cannibals, and undead as they made their way through the ruined gray capital city toward the keep, a massive castle that used to house one of the three gods of Malevora. Now, there was nothing but misery and death there.

Thankfully, Arien was immortal. D'ren often wondered how Eli had taken it - him stealing his girlfriend and making her his wife. Of course, Eli had always claimed to be ok with it, since at least they would take care of each other, and he knew that D'ren wouldn't let anything happen to Arien...well...

With his power-watch, called "Atlantis" because that was where Poseidon had issued it to him when he became a Reality Defender, Eli dashed golems to pieces an blasted vampires across the cracked, humid landscape. As the wind picked up, blowing Eli's black leather trench coat, he turned to roundhouse kick a charging ghoul through a rotting tree. As the ghoul recovered, the blue demon sent several dozen ice shards flying into his head, neck, and chest. Her entire body was blue, and naked. D'ren had spent months with her before Arien, so he - along with the other Defenders - had long-since gotten used to her lack of clothes. Talitha barely wore any either; just a black leather trench coat (customary for all Defense officers), and a leotard.

D'ren heard a vulture's screech and glared up at the black sky. No stars. No sun. No clouds. Nothing. Except death. The Abyss. He smirked.

He turned to Kat, a human teenager who loved her daggers, and said in his embellished Irish accent, "I got yer back, babe!"

Kat shoved a snarling cannibal away from her and turned to plunge one of her blades into the chest of a reptilian demon. "This is not the time for jokes, D'ren!"

When she didn't hear a snarky retort, she looked over her shoulder with concern. D'ren was gone.

Present...

D'ren appeared in all his glory in the courtyard, grinning mischievously and throwing a right hook at nothing while gripping his legendary dagger in his left hand. The mortal stumbled and nearly hit the ground, but deftly recovered. He glanced around frantically until his piercing, cold green eyes fell upon...a little girl? With something on her head?

The Irishman was donned in a black leather trench coat, black leather trousers, black leather knuckle-gloves, a black leather vest, and black combat boots. He took "black leather" to a whole new level, namely a level called "Stereotypical Badboy." His gelled black hair was slicked back over his scalp in most places, though there were parts that were tousled due to physical exertion. He had a long facial scar across his face, the lower half of which was covered in stubble and a menacing scowl. He stood at almost 6 feet tall and wore a curved sword called a scimitar in a scabbard at the waist.

In his defensive stance, D'ren glowered and even growled a little bit at the girl. "What...the feck...is goin' on?"

Freeform Fantasy Roleplay (Anybody can just jump in.)

@AdobeFlash welcome :)

Small group?

i usually use my villain D'ren in every RP, or i just make a character based on me. i have a couple meta characters who know theyre just fictional characters too lol

Fate of the Universe: Chosen Heroes!

ok cool. it would be cool when our characters meet and we have to fake a whole "you look familiar" scene XD

Space Pirates!!!

He could see the purpose in her eyes, so D'ren ignored her terribly obviously fake memory lapse regarding his title. He simply turned back to the monitor mounted in the corner above and took another sip from the bottle. The man's bare arms were cut, both literally, and literally. His muscles were a minor thing compared to the scars on his biceps. On his right one alone, there were probably half a dozen, of various sizes; however, they all looked to be caused by a blade, except for one, which seemed to have been caused by a whip of some sort.

D'ren was most terribly obviously fake-ignoring the woman. It was hard to tell if this form of playing hard-to-get was normal for him, or if he was genuinely uninterested. But after a few seconds, he nodded to the robot across the counter.

"Holy Cheese San'wich."

The mechanical man turned behind him and picked up a flask marked "HCS." The barkeep opened it and poured a sloppy orange mess into a cup and then handed it to Vescalla.

D'ren said, "The name's D'ren. What's yours?"