Teo, did you just negate the teleport?
You do realize all the dude did was an incredibly elaborate teleportation, right? Also, if you negate his control over the Black Hole, cartoon physics or not, you're going to crushed into a sub-atomic particle. Black Holes can hold in Light, and their gravity is so immense it can warp space and time.
What I'm trying to say is, I teleported the group for it's own good. Please just roll with it, it'd be a shame for your character to stay behind as a sub-atomic particle.
thewizardguy
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- thewizardguy 12 yrs ago
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Bio
Just a random guy, doing random things.
Main RP: Hell's Coffee Lounge
Current RPs change often enough that it's too much effort keeping a list of them updated.
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Toguro riases an eyebrow. "That's a lot of talk. Let's see if you can back that up first, shall we?" He gestures, and the massive gravitational waves of the Black Hole twist into a form of connection. A gravitational pull like no other, a temporary wormhole, opens, as time and space are bent by the sheer power of the black hole's gravity. Had Toguro not controlled the gravity with his ability, it would have completely annihilated all matter within, reducing it to a timeless state of infinite stasis. Through this dizzying trip, within an infinitely short amount of time, all those within the Black Hole are transported to some other location.
Toguro floats in the vacuum of space, smiling brightly. Communication here was impossible, sound simply didn't travel in a vacuum. Trash talk lost all meaning, there was nothing now but to fight. Perhaps, Toguro would fight once more against a worthy opponent, or perhaps this would end in a single blow. But the blow was not his to make, it was simply his to judge. Toguro held up one hand, and made a slight beckoning gesutre. It was a universal gesture, one that needed no sound to communicate it's meaning.
"Bring it."
Toguro floats in the vacuum of space, smiling brightly. Communication here was impossible, sound simply didn't travel in a vacuum. Trash talk lost all meaning, there was nothing now but to fight. Perhaps, Toguro would fight once more against a worthy opponent, or perhaps this would end in a single blow. But the blow was not his to make, it was simply his to judge. Toguro held up one hand, and made a slight beckoning gesutre. It was a universal gesture, one that needed no sound to communicate it's meaning.
"Bring it."
((How the Hell is Teo in the center of a Black Hole?.... whatever))
There was no communication, no agreement. The Champions of Omega had no concept of 'teamwork', and had they worked together, the most likely result would have been mutual destruction. Their powers lacked the precision to decide what to destroy, and what not to destroy. One by one they left, moving out of the area by their own means of transport, a large group seemingly stepping through a gate of stars, others simply moving out at high speeds. However, a single member stood opposite the newcomer, remaining throughout the process, the clearly designated opponent for this particular obstacle.
There was no doubt this girl was incredibly powerful. Those who lacked power weren't even capable of entering this area, even with him stabilizing it. It had been a long time since Toguro had seen a good fight. "You have quite the scary aura there, girl. My name's Toguro, the Black Hole. It's been quite a long time since I've fought someone with an aura on that level." The man's smile was genuine, one of excitement, one of thrill. It was the look of one who was about to jump out of a plane, parachute in hand, the eyes of a thrill seeker, a daredevil. Just on a bit of a different scale. "I'm afraid we're going to have to fight outside this hole, though. This is my home turf, you see, and it'd be no fun for this to be over before I get to enjoy it."
((Toguro:
))
There was no communication, no agreement. The Champions of Omega had no concept of 'teamwork', and had they worked together, the most likely result would have been mutual destruction. Their powers lacked the precision to decide what to destroy, and what not to destroy. One by one they left, moving out of the area by their own means of transport, a large group seemingly stepping through a gate of stars, others simply moving out at high speeds. However, a single member stood opposite the newcomer, remaining throughout the process, the clearly designated opponent for this particular obstacle.
There was no doubt this girl was incredibly powerful. Those who lacked power weren't even capable of entering this area, even with him stabilizing it. It had been a long time since Toguro had seen a good fight. "You have quite the scary aura there, girl. My name's Toguro, the Black Hole. It's been quite a long time since I've fought someone with an aura on that level." The man's smile was genuine, one of excitement, one of thrill. It was the look of one who was about to jump out of a plane, parachute in hand, the eyes of a thrill seeker, a daredevil. Just on a bit of a different scale. "I'm afraid we're going to have to fight outside this hole, though. This is my home turf, you see, and it'd be no fun for this to be over before I get to enjoy it."
((Toguro:
))
Throughout the history of life, it has been commonly believed that concepts are the result of intelligent thought. That the mind conjures up thoughts and ideas, and that those then influence the world. Perhaps, to an extent, this delusion is true. Certainly true enough for the belief to be a justifiable ignorance. But there exists a different kind of concept, a different kind of idea. There is a reason that some concepts are multiversal, occuring to every form of intelligent life capable of hosting it. Those concepts that CHOOSE to be thought, that are imperative in the mind of those that thought them. Elements of base creation integral to the creation of the sentient mind, necessary for the formation of thinking life in the multiverse.
One such concept, is destruction. End. Death. The doom of all things, whether through time or force, all things will be reduced to nothingness. The power of murder, the mutilated corpses of those that came before, torn apart by atrophy. There is no singular concept in the Multiverse more powerful or binding than the idea of annihilation, the knowledge that all things are brought to an end.
There are, of course, those that discover these truths. Those that have already pierced the Fabric of Reality, and wandered the Multiverse. Those that have learned from the most ancient of beings, and struck dark deals, and explored the very corners of Existence. And they have learned that this concept has a face, that annihilation lives in many forms. For there are those who devote their lives to it, who devote themselves in every way to this concept of annihilation. And sometimes, they are able to become it's champion, it's host, a being of destruction so pure it trancends all other meaning.
One such champion, is Genocide.
It is a fitting name for one who seeks the end of all life. Perhaps not entirely correct, but by the time he had discovered the existence of more races worth saving, the name had become familiar. It was who he was, in the most literal sense, to those whom's planets he came across. The complete and utter destruction of every sentient species, the annihilation of every 'soul'. he strode across the universe, ending countless civilisations, facing thousands of champions, fighting great battles with ancient beings. A few times, he had been defeated, but never permanently. He was more than a God, greater than a Titan. He was an Avatar of Annihilation, a mere vessel for a concept that had existed since the birth of Creation itself. He channeled the power of a Primal, even if only a fraction.
But no matter how many fell before him, no matter how many worlds were obliterated, there was always more. The Multiverse was practically limitless, in equilibrium so vast that his crusade of destruction was but the footsteps of an ant upon a scale of universes. He fought on, and destroyed, and yet it became clear that while his goal was infinite, he was not, and there was nothing he could do to truly destroy the equilibrium. Always, there would be a balancing force of Creation, somewhere in the universe, off-setting his actions, compensating for it. New life was born, civilisations were founded, gods formed from the base components of thought and magic. In the end, all he was doing was playing his part, walking a cycle of balance.
And so, came Genocide's greatest idea. The greatest conquest, his greatest act of Truth.
He would destroy the Cycle itself. He was Annihilation, was he not? There must be an end to all things, there must be death where there is life. If Creation sought to Create a balance, then was it not Destruction's task to destroy that as well? The one thing that had attempted to bind even the concept of Destruction itself, the oen being that could be said to be more powerful than any other Concept.... Balance. He would crush it beneath his heels, and he would watch all of Existence burn. No other servant had ever granted such a gift to his Master. It was the perfect form of End.
The champions of Omega gathered, in the Plane of destruction. Around Genocide stood his companions, those who had devoted their existences to the persuit of destruction, the end of all things. At the center of a Black Holethey conferred, their power bound by the space-warping gravity. Only here could they gather without fracturing the reality they wished to walk. Genocide did not speak, for his thoughts had spoken for themselves. There was no need for words among those of such similar thought, no need for acknowledgement. Each would perform their tasks, each would take care of their part. And all those who would stand in the way, would simply be given the embrace of annihilation a little early.
One such concept, is destruction. End. Death. The doom of all things, whether through time or force, all things will be reduced to nothingness. The power of murder, the mutilated corpses of those that came before, torn apart by atrophy. There is no singular concept in the Multiverse more powerful or binding than the idea of annihilation, the knowledge that all things are brought to an end.
There are, of course, those that discover these truths. Those that have already pierced the Fabric of Reality, and wandered the Multiverse. Those that have learned from the most ancient of beings, and struck dark deals, and explored the very corners of Existence. And they have learned that this concept has a face, that annihilation lives in many forms. For there are those who devote their lives to it, who devote themselves in every way to this concept of annihilation. And sometimes, they are able to become it's champion, it's host, a being of destruction so pure it trancends all other meaning.
One such champion, is Genocide.
It is a fitting name for one who seeks the end of all life. Perhaps not entirely correct, but by the time he had discovered the existence of more races worth saving, the name had become familiar. It was who he was, in the most literal sense, to those whom's planets he came across. The complete and utter destruction of every sentient species, the annihilation of every 'soul'. he strode across the universe, ending countless civilisations, facing thousands of champions, fighting great battles with ancient beings. A few times, he had been defeated, but never permanently. He was more than a God, greater than a Titan. He was an Avatar of Annihilation, a mere vessel for a concept that had existed since the birth of Creation itself. He channeled the power of a Primal, even if only a fraction.
But no matter how many fell before him, no matter how many worlds were obliterated, there was always more. The Multiverse was practically limitless, in equilibrium so vast that his crusade of destruction was but the footsteps of an ant upon a scale of universes. He fought on, and destroyed, and yet it became clear that while his goal was infinite, he was not, and there was nothing he could do to truly destroy the equilibrium. Always, there would be a balancing force of Creation, somewhere in the universe, off-setting his actions, compensating for it. New life was born, civilisations were founded, gods formed from the base components of thought and magic. In the end, all he was doing was playing his part, walking a cycle of balance.
And so, came Genocide's greatest idea. The greatest conquest, his greatest act of Truth.
He would destroy the Cycle itself. He was Annihilation, was he not? There must be an end to all things, there must be death where there is life. If Creation sought to Create a balance, then was it not Destruction's task to destroy that as well? The one thing that had attempted to bind even the concept of Destruction itself, the oen being that could be said to be more powerful than any other Concept.... Balance. He would crush it beneath his heels, and he would watch all of Existence burn. No other servant had ever granted such a gift to his Master. It was the perfect form of End.
The champions of Omega gathered, in the Plane of destruction. Around Genocide stood his companions, those who had devoted their existences to the persuit of destruction, the end of all things. At the center of a Black Holethey conferred, their power bound by the space-warping gravity. Only here could they gather without fracturing the reality they wished to walk. Genocide did not speak, for his thoughts had spoken for themselves. There was no need for words among those of such similar thought, no need for acknowledgement. Each would perform their tasks, each would take care of their part. And all those who would stand in the way, would simply be given the embrace of annihilation a little early.
Hmmm? This appears to have revived. Awesome!
Let me throw in some chars.
Let me throw in some chars.
A deadly silence fell over the area, but it was different from before. Gabriel looked at Mithias with a strange expression, his face equal parts blank, and full of mixed expressions, so as to be utterly confusings. Mithias was perhaps the most experienced when it came to his father's peculiar personality, but to him this was new. It was quite clear that there was distress in the ancient vampire's eyes, but it seemed impossible. All throughout his existence, Gabriel had seemed like an unreachable entity, something inhuman, greater than life, an image that had only been reinforced the more Mithias had learned. He was not a man, not a vampire, or at least not in the eyes of those around him. He was a force of nature, something to be feared and worshipped but never trifled with. A fickle, demon God. This was a reputation that Gabriel had worked hard to uphold, an image that had, more powerfully than any display of force, cemented him as an object of fear. However, in this moment, Mithias could see a crack in the armor, a sliver of emotion that might alude to the mortal man Gabriel must once have been.
"There are some things that are best left forgotten. Ignorance, after all, is bliss. Treasure it, for it is all that shields you from the harshest of truths." These cryptic words were backed by a sad smile, even as a wave of sensation hit Mithias, like a wall. Sights and sounds screaming around him, as Gabriel's mind hit him with a force he hadn't even known was possible. It was like standing face to face with a tsunami, and even mithias' armor was cracked, opened by hesitation and surprise, for Mithias had always believed himself immune to psychic assault.
And like snow before the summer sun, the glimpes of the past dissapeared from Mithias' mind.
Gabriel sighed, as he straightened, and simply left. The SOLDIER around him stared straight ahead, unmoving and unblinking, their perception of time halted. It was a good thing that they were incapable of sight, not truly. While these images would be recieved, they would never be consciously processed, never to be dug up again. As Gabriel walked out of the camp, he walked with a slumped back, and lines of weariness on his face. For the first time in a long time, he had had to truly exert himself, and it had come at a cost. In this moment of weakness, only Mithias was left to wonder watch, unaffected by the freeze, and severely confused.
Smiling sadly, Gabriel straightened, and walked away into the wind. The SOLDIER would reawaken, and, to them, he would have simply teleported. A magician's parlor trick, to show off a power he didn't truly possess. However, he had different goals, and different ideals. And he had no intention of staying.
Too many bad memories.
He seemed to come out of nowhere, the vampire in the green suit. One moment, one would have sworn he wasn't there, and the next, it was as if he always had been there, as if it was only natural. Arm outstretched, he caught a grenade in the palm of his hand, looking up to find himself in the middle of what appeared to be a siege. Once more, it seemed, he had walked into something he should have stayed out of, and he couldn't just leave alone. Perhaps it was destiny, perhaps it was just that certain people are drawn to certain events. Whichever it was, Tsukune was sure he would once more nearly die, and most likely it would be at the hands of the oldblood he could see wielding the grenade launcher. It wouldn't be easy trying to halt this attack, the man looked determined to go through with it. Over the last couple of years, Tsukune had become uncumfortably familiar with the eyes of a killer, and whoever this man was, he possessed the look.
With a flash and an explosion, the grenade in Tsukune's hand exploded. He screamed in pain, dropping to his knees as his entire right arm was ripped apart and spread all over the surrounding walls. In retrospect, a cynical and smug part of his brain told him, perhaps catching a live grenade and then standing still to think wasn't the greatest plan he'd ever come up with.
Shut up, brain.
Standing up, Tsukune spit out some blood, and rushed at the Oldblood. He'd definitely lost the element of surprise, as well as one of his arms, and as such there was no better plan than to just rush in and hope for the best. Tsukune knew he couldn't take this man in a fight, he looked like trouble and was far more heavily armed. But he had no doubt he'd be able to do some good, esspecially with the other humans in the small fort doing their part. If he was able to do as much as slow the bastard down, hold him still, it would be mere seconds before some bright-eyed fellow put a bullet between his eyes.
Of course, then he'd have to block the bullet as well. His goal was to get nobody killed, not even the vampire.
Shit. This was a horrible plan.
........ Shut up, brain.
"There are some things that are best left forgotten. Ignorance, after all, is bliss. Treasure it, for it is all that shields you from the harshest of truths." These cryptic words were backed by a sad smile, even as a wave of sensation hit Mithias, like a wall. Sights and sounds screaming around him, as Gabriel's mind hit him with a force he hadn't even known was possible. It was like standing face to face with a tsunami, and even mithias' armor was cracked, opened by hesitation and surprise, for Mithias had always believed himself immune to psychic assault.
And like snow before the summer sun, the glimpes of the past dissapeared from Mithias' mind.
Gabriel sighed, as he straightened, and simply left. The SOLDIER around him stared straight ahead, unmoving and unblinking, their perception of time halted. It was a good thing that they were incapable of sight, not truly. While these images would be recieved, they would never be consciously processed, never to be dug up again. As Gabriel walked out of the camp, he walked with a slumped back, and lines of weariness on his face. For the first time in a long time, he had had to truly exert himself, and it had come at a cost. In this moment of weakness, only Mithias was left to wonder watch, unaffected by the freeze, and severely confused.
Smiling sadly, Gabriel straightened, and walked away into the wind. The SOLDIER would reawaken, and, to them, he would have simply teleported. A magician's parlor trick, to show off a power he didn't truly possess. However, he had different goals, and different ideals. And he had no intention of staying.
Too many bad memories.
He seemed to come out of nowhere, the vampire in the green suit. One moment, one would have sworn he wasn't there, and the next, it was as if he always had been there, as if it was only natural. Arm outstretched, he caught a grenade in the palm of his hand, looking up to find himself in the middle of what appeared to be a siege. Once more, it seemed, he had walked into something he should have stayed out of, and he couldn't just leave alone. Perhaps it was destiny, perhaps it was just that certain people are drawn to certain events. Whichever it was, Tsukune was sure he would once more nearly die, and most likely it would be at the hands of the oldblood he could see wielding the grenade launcher. It wouldn't be easy trying to halt this attack, the man looked determined to go through with it. Over the last couple of years, Tsukune had become uncumfortably familiar with the eyes of a killer, and whoever this man was, he possessed the look.
With a flash and an explosion, the grenade in Tsukune's hand exploded. He screamed in pain, dropping to his knees as his entire right arm was ripped apart and spread all over the surrounding walls. In retrospect, a cynical and smug part of his brain told him, perhaps catching a live grenade and then standing still to think wasn't the greatest plan he'd ever come up with.
Shut up, brain.
Standing up, Tsukune spit out some blood, and rushed at the Oldblood. He'd definitely lost the element of surprise, as well as one of his arms, and as such there was no better plan than to just rush in and hope for the best. Tsukune knew he couldn't take this man in a fight, he looked like trouble and was far more heavily armed. But he had no doubt he'd be able to do some good, esspecially with the other humans in the small fort doing their part. If he was able to do as much as slow the bastard down, hold him still, it would be mere seconds before some bright-eyed fellow put a bullet between his eyes.
Of course, then he'd have to block the bullet as well. His goal was to get nobody killed, not even the vampire.
Shit. This was a horrible plan.
........ Shut up, brain.
I love how Hale saw the mist and was like "..... Nope!".
I thought they were. Even if they aren't, Akje looks like he's desperately looking for something to do.
Jeffrey, this is my official answer. You know who you are, and you know why this is up here.
Name: Aono Tsukune
Age: 170
Appearance:
Powers:
As a Newblood, Aono has no known powers, and is not nearly as strong or fast as an Oldblood. However, he is said to have inhuman determination and empathy, and nobody is entirely sure what to make of him.
Bio:
Nobody knows where Aono came from, or who sired him. There are no records of anyone by his name in the United States, and no vampire has admitted to being related to him. No information can be found, and despite trying, no information as to his origins can be tortured out of him. Tsukune just came from nowhere one day, as weak as any standard vampire. However, his fame spread intensely when he managed to fend of Johnathan, who had at the time been attempting to wipe out a SOLDIER base. Those who witnessed it said it was surreal, and Aono became known as the Mystery Newblood.
What is known about Aono is that he follows neither SOLDIER, nor the majority of vampires. Instead, he believes in equality and peace, and in many major conflicts he has been the only thing standing between peace and war. He fights with his bare hands instead of using weapons, to ensure he will never kill anyone, and has nearly died many times in order to preserve the peace. Furthermore, nobody has managed to kill him as of yet.
Name: Aono Tsukune
Age: 170
Appearance:
Powers:
As a Newblood, Aono has no known powers, and is not nearly as strong or fast as an Oldblood. However, he is said to have inhuman determination and empathy, and nobody is entirely sure what to make of him.
Bio:
Nobody knows where Aono came from, or who sired him. There are no records of anyone by his name in the United States, and no vampire has admitted to being related to him. No information can be found, and despite trying, no information as to his origins can be tortured out of him. Tsukune just came from nowhere one day, as weak as any standard vampire. However, his fame spread intensely when he managed to fend of Johnathan, who had at the time been attempting to wipe out a SOLDIER base. Those who witnessed it said it was surreal, and Aono became known as the Mystery Newblood.
What is known about Aono is that he follows neither SOLDIER, nor the majority of vampires. Instead, he believes in equality and peace, and in many major conflicts he has been the only thing standing between peace and war. He fights with his bare hands instead of using weapons, to ensure he will never kill anyone, and has nearly died many times in order to preserve the peace. Furthermore, nobody has managed to kill him as of yet.
There are ways to survive Johnathan's beast-mode. Sure, nobody's managed up until now in 2.000 years, but I'm sure that's not a problem
Let me give you some advice. Don't try and duke it out with him unless you have a plan. And double check to make sure it's a GOOD plan. It'll take some serious bullshit for me to invent a reason Johnathan wouldn't rip Magnus to shreds, given the chance.
Edit: Akje, why aren't you posting for Bouwe? He's in the SOLDIER outpost, so he should be noticing the stuff going on outside his door.
Let me give you some advice. Don't try and duke it out with him unless you have a plan. And double check to make sure it's a GOOD plan. It'll take some serious bullshit for me to invent a reason Johnathan wouldn't rip Magnus to shreds, given the chance.
Edit: Akje, why aren't you posting for Bouwe? He's in the SOLDIER outpost, so he should be noticing the stuff going on outside his door.
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