Avatar of Ragnarokkr
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    1. Ragnarokkr 9 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Current *Judgement intensifies*
6 yrs ago
So if gender is a social construct then why does it matter what I call a gaggle of people? Seriously. Help. This is a problem rn xD
1 like
6 yrs ago
Just got yelled at for calling a group of people "You guys" apparently that's sexist? Wat
2 likes
6 yrs ago
How is it my old man can drink me under the table still? My lover's gonna be hurting bleh 😱
1 like
6 yrs ago
Dear Santa: All I want for christmas is for you to stop sneaking into my home and stealing from me at Gunpoint. Like that damn firefighter >_>

Bio

I'm horrible with bios cause I always put too much or not enough. Wheeeeelllpp, here goes nothing.

I am Ragnarokkr, or Ragna, I'm a twenty something adult human spawn who is a weird mash of a 1990's raver and some sort of fancy man. I like to think I'm funny but my humor is... unique to say the least.

Most Recent Posts

No worries, got nothing but time~
The year is 3128 in the lands of Gaia. A massive continent devoured by war and destroyed by humanities greed. The ruling class govern all with an iron fist and a close eye. All technologies are monitored, all citizens tracked. You must pay your dues or face "indentured workforce relocation". The cities are the closest thing to safe. As long as you can deal with the thieves, secret police, or constant fear of being taken away. Massive black walls border each of the 20 massive cities, keeping the citizens, willing or not, locked away from the dangers of the wasteland. Sun scorched and full of horrors ranging from animals to those who managed to survive away from Avalon iron grip or kept hidden from them. Raiders are a constant threat for the few who are allowed out of the cities to scavenge. There are even whispers of a hidden city where a rebellion is being formed.



Lucky had never enjoyed coming out into the wastes as a child. The wind swept lands that surrounded every city. That was before he found his freedom. Now he lay prone on top of a ruined skyscraper. The harsh winds blowing his worn jacket as he sighted in his rifle. Massive black walls towered over City 13. His target for his next mission. A familiar longing called out to him as the last time he was here, it was when he fought against the very people he calls allies now. He began to whistle a tune unfamilar to most, a song from a game made centuries ago about a fat plumber that had to save princesses. A whisper of the past afforded to few in this new world.

"I said radio silence, Lucky, and stop that damn whistling." The gravelly voice of his mission commander breaking through his headset. With a small laugh he sat up some, resting his head in his hands. "Aye aye Capi, Location sighted and free to proceed. I'm coming down to Join up at the R.P" He anwswred in a song-songy voice before standing up completely with rifle in tow. His feet perched over the edge of the building, he secured His rifle before testing his belaying harness. One second, Two, then he jumped with his arms spread. "THIS IS WHAT I LIVE FOR" He yelled mostly to himself as the ground began to approach quickly before the harness began to slow his descent to death down.

With a practiced motion, he flipped his body and landed on his feet while simultaneously detaching the harness for future use if need be. Then the full out run through the ruined sections of the city. Jagged pieces of road twisted upward. Like massive hands seeking retribution or forgiveness. The buildings around him crumbling with every storm made it a dangerous place to be. The perfect place for a guy like him.

Within a quarter of an hour he was slowing down at the sight of his other comrades prepping for the long night ahead. His CO frowning at him with another lecture waiting on the tip of his tongue. With a dismissive wave Lucky lifted his mask and mumbled " Yay yay, dangerous, don't do it, silence, blah. Let's just get this shit started." He bounced slightly with giddiness like a child. His eyes being the only part of him that even remotely looked serious at the prospect of killing off several high value targets.
Name: Leon "Lucky" Miller

Age: 28

Affiliation: Ex Black Hand commander and currently Rebel scout and vanguard.

Appearance:


Personality: Lucky is a positive individual. Positive to the point his other nickname is Whistler. He also tends to be an adrenaline junkie. Constantly getting into comprising situations just for the thrill.

History: Lucky was always the odd one out of his five brothers. He would constantly go into areas he wasn't meant to. Fight with other kids and would constantly follow members of the Black Hand like it was some type of game. His parents always swore he would be taken one day by them. Sadly they didn't live long enough to be proven right. At age 12, his parents and 4 brothers died in a scavenging incident so the Black Hand came and took him and his younger brother Isaac. For six years they trained side by side before Lucky  graduated to an Officer, leaving Isaac behind for the first time. For the next six years he worked his way up the bloody and deceit stained ladder to commander. There he had to witness his brothers execution on grounds of being a rebellion spy. No trial. Just gun and boom, gone. It was then something broke in Leon. He began to search for the rebellion, not for revenge but to join them. This task took him two years to complete to which he immediately packed his bags, filling it with papers detailing everything  deemed worthy of a commanders eyes. Then set explosives and a fake cadaver he "appropriated " and destroyed his upper class home. Leaving him with nothing but his weapons, armor, and bag of secrets that could get him into something worse then death.
Amazing opening post (may be edited in the future)
Sebastien peered around the room, taking note of all the intricately carved runes that did unknown things. He had always hated the unknown yet here he was, in the middle of a group of wanted criminals. Beings like him. His normally well dressed attire was replaced with plain black military uniform and a mask that was carved out of obsidian. The only visible part if him was his ocean blue eyes which were narrowed at the sudden appearance of the apparition.

To step into the unknown is a method he had adopted so many years ago and now he was presented with a door into the greatest collection of knowledge. Memento Mori. Whispehers were all he had ever collected on the group yet here he was, stepping forward. A hidden smile playing on his lips as he thought of the countless things that would probably be afforded to him.

Minutes later, all those willing had stepped forward. A whisper on the wind carried to the volunteers as a soft forest green light wrapped around them. " All those willing shall now be brought into the sanctum. The rest will forget as soon as they leave. Brace yourselves, this next part always hurts." With the magic complete, each and every person simply vanished in some sort of teleportation spell. One Seb had never seen not heard of. As the green light cleared he wondered what pain the old man had been talking about. Then the burning of magic coursed through him, inscribing a magic circle with the orders crest and motto into the palm of his hand. The sudden onset of pain left just as quickly as some screamed out and others grunted.

Finally afforded the chance to look around Sebastein did so. A long elegant hall with black tiles and high vaulted ceilings. Massive windows showed different environments. At one end was a gilded door with the old man standing In front of it. " forgive the pain. This seal that is now on your body can only be seen by this order and allows entry into our sanctum as well as the nexus. Please get acquainted with eachother for we are now comrades. Someone will be sent to get you soon." he vanished once more before his words were finished yet they still sounded as clear as ever.
Name: Sebastien De Vauban.
Age:209
Entity: Cursed Humam



Powers: Just as his namesake, Seb has a natural affiliation with tactical magic. Traps, Magical Sentries, able to analyze a battlefield and strategize to an inhuman level. He is a master at hidden dangers to any who dare oppose him.
Personality: Generally Sebastien is an upbeat individual, always trying to get people to smile, laugh, and enjoy life. He will constantly be in a good mood and sometimes has a hard time reading situations. However when it comes time to use his magic it seems a switch is flipped. He becomes cold and callous. Given an objective, he will stop at close to nothing to achieve it.

History: Sebastien's life was easy growing up. Rather then having to face any number of problems, he had anything he ever wanted. His  childhood was filled with weathly magi and important diplomats. From the moment he showed an aptitude for magic he was given the best teachers. One in particular was a powerful magus whom he wooed and subsequently broke her heart leading to his curse. Of course the lady was immediately executed however the damage was done and Sebastien was disowned. Thrown out of his house at the age of 18 Seb was hit with the cold reality of this world. For almost two hundred years, Seb carved a name out for himself as a security expert while hiding his immortal status to avoid being shunned. He then got a job offer for an old sanctum used by the magi of old for expirements. This would be his step into the world of Memento Mori.
Torchlight flickers against the stony cavern walls and murmers echo gently as the group await the sender of their invitations to join this group. Some know one another and form some groups while others remain apart from the group, watching for any sign of trouble.
At each of the four entrances there is three members guarding, stoic and unmoving. Over each entrance is the quote "Memento Mori Ad Initio." Carved into the stone and inlaid with a shimmering metal that seemed to give off its own light.

 "Always the odd quote. 'Remember death from the beginning.' Such a funny thing to be branded on each member of this immortal sanctum. An eternal rule is that to be born is to be destined for death. Even monsters such as us. Wether you were made or born, 16 years old or several thousand, even beings such as we can be killed. Just not by time. So train hard and fight even harder." The disembodied voice echoes, landing on the ears of all gathered before the shadows cast by the torches merged together, forming into a cloaked old man who it seemed like if you removed your eyes from him he would just disappear.

The old man favoured the group with a slight smile before the grandmasters unearthly blue eyes swept the room full of new initiates." Beings who are hunted, shunned, feared, or enslaved for their powers. Vampires, golems, mechanical curiosities. All are welcome in Sinulcrum. The only question I shall ask of you to ask yourselves is,  can you fight for your rights as living creatures? Are you willing to attempt to make peace with creatures many consider lower then themselves as well as destroy those who dare to attack us? If so then, please one at a time ,step into this circle."

With that, the apparition faded from view. Where he was standing a circle forged from the same glowing metal rose from the ground. Each letter intricately carved and cast a grim order to all onlookers. " Cast aside all hope of death in the Sanctum of eternal life"
Exciting things in this OOC place
Cool cool. Pmed ya
You most certainly can. I shot ya a pm!!
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