Avatar of LokiLeo789
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    1. LokiLeo789 12 yrs ago
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8 yrs ago
Let me taste you.
8 yrs ago
The Hierarchy Shall Crumble.
1 like
8 yrs ago
"No one man should have all that power."
1 like
8 yrs ago
⭐️-_-💧
8 yrs ago
"Well as far as brains go, I've got the lion's share. But when it comes to brute strength, I'm afraid I'm at the shallow end of the gene pool." - Who?
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@LokiLeo789
Plague of Undeath as written is too powerful, given that it affects others contacting him rather than him alone needing to strike a target or maintain contact. Removing this and making it a strictly offensive tool would bring it in line given its apparent purpose. Having free, reactionary, regularly irresistible damage is a bit too much.

Silken Wraps need to be lowered in terms of tier down to Tier 3 and have the "nigh-impenetrable" removed. At best, something will offer resistance, but never immunity. The warding of the armor is too non-descript, needing further details as to just what the wards do. A similar issue exists with the poison, as it gives no indication how fast it works or just how it works.


I made changes according to your consul. Plague of Undeath is a little heard to nerf effectively as it's a central theme to his whole character so I increased the timer on it to hopefully compensate.
@JaceBeleren

Word of warning, your character is likely dead due to her action in your most recent post. So we should talk it before both of us post any further.






Little bastards' quick. Mal'akuth mused as he watched the boy and his dog slip out of the bar with the stench of fresh sweat trailing him like an invisible ghost. If that reaction didn't attest to his guiltniness, then Mal didn't known what would. But the beast had little time to waste on thinking about such trivial matters, the hunt was on and his prey was on the move.

Without paying his bill Mal'akuth lept out of the bar and started after the the boy. Even with all the precautions the he took, he couldn't hope to escape the superior senses of the Apex Predator. No being ever had. And once Mal'akuth picked up his trail, finding him would only take seconds at most. The mind of the Sykrott was no longer that of a bar patron slothed on weak synthentic whiskey, but that of a hunter. With the agility of such, Mal'akuth took to higher-ground, using the buildings to speed up his pursuit.

Within moments Mal'akuth came to a stop on the roof of a shop known as Valentine Armaments. The trail ended here. Mal'akuth sniffed the air tentatively. More scents mingled with that of the boy's within the shop. They were scents he recognized from somewhere. Yes, they belonged to those revolutionists from the bar earlier. Was the boy somehow connected? Mal'akuth hesitated. In any other situation he would has blasted his way in and slaughtered the shop's patrons. But something urged him to listen. Call it instinct.
Pls, shh, too loud.


Geni paused to considered Beryl's offer. Coffee wasn't exactly he beverage of choice but that was hardly an excuse not to go. And with the prospect of once again widening out his circle of friends (or in this case creating the said circle) refusing would be a detriment to himself and plain rude. So how could Geni refuse such an offer. He had two weeks worth of association to catch up on!

The faunus wagged a playful at finger Beryl. "I think I have a little more room in the ol' gut for some coffee and association." he jibbed.

Geni zipped up his luggage and stuffed the pack underneath his bed. He would come for it later. As he worked Gratia's parents seemed to have caught on to the subject of the conversation. And much to what he assumed was Gratia's dismay, was set on meeting said group of friend's. Geni smiled. Not in loving memory, but to keep himself for scowling. She was blessed to have loving and caring parents like she did. Others weren't so lucky.

Geni snapped out of his stupor once he realized Gratia's father had spoke to him. While he had been paying little attention, Geni still made a response, pointing two finger guns his way and fake firing them. "Yeah, you've convinced me. Where are we going?"

@Cyclone

I would love a roll with extra sprinkles please.





Mal'akuth swirled the whiskey in his glass, listening to the chinking of the ice cubes, breathing in the aroma of synthetic conception. Already the worries of his day were beginning to fade, even before the first taste. Just watching its gentle vortex was hypnotizing enough. It was his one vice and he intended to make a virtue of it, savour it, not race to the bottom of the bottle like he often had after a days work. When the liquid settled he brought it to his weather-cracked lips and let the amber fluid sit in his mouth a while before swallowing. He closed his eyes, dwelling only on the flavour. The soft amber colour belied a harsh taste but after years of forcing down the metallic consistency of blood and death, the whiskey's taste was lost to sapor.

For the most part he now ignored the din of conversation emanating throughout the bar. After the supposed revolutionaries left, he found no interest in listening to anymore drunken gossip. How could he when a group of idiots just signed their own death sentences right in front of him? Did they know the danger they were in? Did they not realize that anyone could be listening? The bartending droid? The bar's patrons? Perhaps that a camera and microphone may have picked up their conversation?

Bah, but who was he fooling. He was no less a criminal then they were, if not more. While they posed a chance at survival, he had little too none. He was living on borrowed time. Amassing wealth that had no value in the grave. He was a dead-man walking. That he had been for the majority of his life.

A sudden shift in the rooms mood caught the attention of the brooding Sykrott. It was an animalistic presence, one better suited for the wild rather than a bar. Mal'akuth's eyes jumped from patron to patron, searching out the anomaly, but none returned positive.

It wasn't until his eyes caught those of another, to which it quickly turned away, that he found his culprit. Mal'akuth snorted. Another rookie thrust into the impossible role of taking him in or out. He felt for the youngster. He would die trying. Mal'akuth glanced at the dog at the boy's feet. It's eyes refused to leave his person. It was challenging him, daring him to make a move at his master, yet wary of his power. The animalistic presence.

Dog's were such stupid creatures. Loyal to fault. Weaknesses and death through domestication, such was the fate of "Man's Best Friend".

Mal'akuth, no longer interested in his brink, downed it in own go, and made headway for the boy. He wanted a word with him before the next most likely scenario played out.

Daddy's back.
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