thewizardguy

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

Shiro awoke in bed, a green jade statue of a bass having been placed on his chest. The statue seemed to emanate a feeling of calm, a warmth even he could feel, and he knew better than to remove it. Instead he settled back down, recalling the events that had lead up to his current state of injury. While attempting to stop the intruders he had been caught in one of Saito-sama's storms. Being undead, and not phased by human feelings of fear and panic, Shiro could perfectly recall the events. Most of his body had been crushed by a large boulder, the event managing to knock him unconscious. The very fact that his body had been rebuilt spoke of powerful magic, there were few in the Empire who were capable of such healing.

Shiro sensed him coming before he entered the room, but it was a surprise all the same. Sensing Arezawa-sama's energy, he had begun to doubt his own senses. And yet the Right Hand of the Emperor walked into his sick room, seeming to briefly check the statue as well as several charms he had hung on the walls. Then, as Shiro was still trying to wrap his head around the mage's presence, Kiyoki addressed him. Smiling coldly, he sat down by the side of Shiro's bed. "Shiro of the Kurotai (black sword), is it not? I'm sure you're well aware of who I am." Shiro could do nothing but stupidly nod in response. "Good. Now, you were found in the Gardens after the... incident, with most of your body destroyed. No doubt you were trying to apprehend the intruders, yes?"

The question suddenly returned Shiro's voice. It wasn't good for your loyalty or motivations to be in question, when you served the Emperor. Those who were suspected of treason had a tendency to disappear, either to the dungeons or on some suicide mission in enemy territory. "Yes, sir. I was attempting to assist when Saito-sama's storm damaged me." Under normal circumstances Shiro would never have dared point out the negative side effects of the notoriously destructive warrior's rampages. However under the Onmyoudo's piercing gaze he felt like withholding information would cost him far more than any insult he might cause to the Dragon Guard.

After a moment of silence Kiyoki continued, not acknowledging Shiro's reply in any way. "The people who intruded into the gardens were dangerous opponents. In order to get as far as they did they must have broken through a variety of security measures unnoticed. They supposedly survived the storm and eluded Saito as well. Even the Storm Elemental was defeated." Kiyoki spoke with both interest and annoyance in his voice, as if he were facing a particularly vexing conundrum. "Unfortunately Saito was able to describe only one member of their group to me. You will need to amend for your failure by giving me any information you possess."

Saito nodded again. So this was why the Emperor's Right Hand was speaking to him, and had rebuilt his body. Being reminded of his failure further reminded him of what the consequences would be of subsequent mistakes. Those who could not properly serve the Emperor were doomed to serve as his amusement. As such he told the mage all he had discovered, recalling with perfect detail the events that had transpired just yesterday. The frost dragon, the cowboy, the luminous mysterious figure in the sky, and the strange sea creature. He informed him of their abilities, as far as he was aware of them, and their appearances.

When Shiro was done speaking, Kiyoki smiled. But this time it was genuine, a look of satisfaction. "Good. You do the Emperor proud. You would do well to continue serving this diligently, Shiro." Shiro nodded, relieved. It had been Kiyoki that had granted the assassin his immortality, and it was Kiyoko that could with the same ease remove it, if he so wished. Kiyoki stood, and moved towards the door. Before leaving, he turned around one last time. "Had you lied during our encounter, my wards would have turned you to dust. Your honesty in this situation is appreciated." With that, the mage left.

Sighing, Shiro once more lay down. He had no need for rest, physically, but he felt like he needed to recuperate from the stress. Being in that man's presence was terrifying. With a mere word he could order the death of any man in the world, with a mere gesture he could take away the very gifts he had bestowed. Truly, Kiyoki was the Right Hand of the Emperor. The Right Hand of God himself. To know that one's life is hanging by a string, and to see the hand holding the sword that might cut it, is a terrifying thing indeed. For a moment Shiro allowed himself to feel pity for those who had caught the onmyoudo's attention. But just for a moment, as such treacherous thoughts might end him in this place. His life was the emperor's, as was his death. Nothing else mattered.

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

As the ship turned back towards the East, they found themselves drifting in the wake of the immense hydra. Yamato no Orochi moved towards the East at surprising speed, it's immense body just below the water. It was like a large island had grown serpent heads, and had decided to go eat the nearest continent. Below the surface the immense body shifted and twisted, it's movements creating waves the size of houses. It was only because of King's surprising skill with Viking longboats that they weren't capsized by the torrent of water, it was only because of the constant wind in the sails that they were able to keep up.

It was clear that Yamato no Orochi intended to lay siege to Japan. It was heading straight from the capital city, the exact opposite of the direction they had been heading in.

If the group wished for chaos, Yamato no Orochi would certainly cause it. But it would also cause the strongest warriors in the Eastern Empire, the Dragon Guard, to make an appearance. Most likely a titanic battle would erupt, and anyone involved in it would find themselves quite quickly in mortal danger, caught in between the clash of titanic forces. Alternatively, they could choose a more subtle route and use the immense serpent as a distraction as they attacked elsewhere. This would be far safer. However, they would not have the raw destructive power of Orochi backing them up, and they wouldn't be able to hit Aegis, the Emperor's Capital.

Portal Hoppers *REMAKE*

Eh, I forgot about this entire thing ^^

I got annoyed trying to read through all the previous story, and got distracted by other rps. Sorry.

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

I can't continue the plot on Tsubasa until Tiny decides what direction you guys are going. If you guys head back to the Emperor's ground, you'll face his forces. If you go to the West, you'll find the Allied Pantheons.

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

@CreedTheChimera@supertinyking@Kishin Asura
Mortis escapes the grasp of the nightmarish horde, fleeing from the impending danger. He escapes into the Multiverse, emerging on some far off world. However, he leaves behind him the very warriors whom he had gathered, stranded in the Chaos Realm. And with his departure his forming realm broke to pieces, the Chaos Realm once more descending into it's own chaotic nature.

Even as Rick struck out, the change was palpable. Gravity seemed to turn off, causing his attack to miss as he floated aimlessly up into the air. The creature's eyes glinted, as nightmares took complete control of the surroundings. The air seemed to be sucked out of the surroundings, as Rick and Marcus found themselves unexpectedly floating in space. The Nightmare held Rick by the neck, fingers digging deep into the fabric with inhuman strength. Rick might punch, and he might kick, but the creature would not give. He had no momentum, and yet the creature seemed to be standing on a solid plane all of it's own. The vacuum tore the air from their lungs, sniffing out any flame instantly, and they could feel themselves beginning to suffocate. Rick in particular would feel his blood instantly boiling in the low pressure, being pulled out of his wounded hand like a red mist.

If nothing was done in the next few minutes, both Marcus and Ricky would inevitably die, the Nightmare hordes rushing to their location as they struggled to fend off their current adversary.

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

@Snarfulblast
Kinda forgot about him, didn't I?

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

@supertinyking
Mortis shoots forward, a wall of flame following him. The trees burn up, the creatures screech, as he comes down like a living inferno. His hammer strikes the nearest creature, a giant centipede with a human face. The creature is blown away, disintegrating like a shadow before the rising sun. His fury burns, even as he can feel himself drawing on the rage of the Multiverse. His fist strikes like a Supernova, an explosion blasting outwards as hundreds of horrors are incinrated, their forms dispersing. And yet, even as he tears through them, there are always more.

A relentless clicking sounds, the constant rhythm seeming to pierce it's way through the inferno. Even over the screams and screeches he can hear it, like a nail being driven into his brain. The clack of shoes against the steel floor, the smell of blood and fear in his nose, coupled with a strange metallic, rusty tang. A black silhouette, lit by stark white lights, hung from a steel ceiling. Slowly he turns the screw in his head, even as a grin plays it's way onto his face, as it clicks into place. "Oh, what an interesting specimen we have here. Say, do you think grief is a physical thing? That it exists in the human body?" He chuckles, as a scalpel slips into his hand from his sleeve. "Don't bother answering, I intend to find out."

The berserk Mortis shoots towards this new threat, the floor under his feet turning to fire and brimstone, the air turning to noxious acid, his breath bringing a wave of heat. And yet even as he steps forward he can feel himself catching on hundreds of tiny threads as they cut into his body. Wrapping around him, tearing into his flesh. The figure grins, as if everything were merely proceeding according to plan, were merely proceeding logically.

Mortis ripped through his bonds, only to be interrupted by a wild cry. For unexpectedly an axe blade sprouted from his shoulder, as he was knocked onto his knees by the force of impact. He twists behind him to see a massive man, wearing woodsman's clothing, his burly arms pulling back for a second swing. He can feel earth covering him, pulling at him, the insects digging into his flesh, even as he realizes the ground is attempting to bury him alive. And even as the thought crosses his mind, he finds himself locked in a coffin of steel. He can see the ocean above, through the narrow slit, even as he bashes against the narrow confines. Even as he hungers, even as he screams for even the barest snatch of food.

But the fear cannot grab a hold. He can feel the power of the nightmares around him as they trap him, encircle him, lock him in. He can feel their strength, even as he rips through their petty illusions. He blasts them to pieces, but more merely come. He can feel himself being torn deeper into this world of darkness, and he realizes he is not fighting an army. He is not facing an enemy with numbers, for they would keep coming until the Multiverse ran out of horrors to dream of. He could feel it's net tangling around him, dropping from imaginary world to imaginary world, tearing and bashing and destroying all in his wake.

And yet, a single cold fear begins to work it's way into his heart. A single droplet of terror, a crack in his impregnable shield of rage. For he realized that something was coming that was worse than any army of nightmares. He could sense it, he could feel it. It was as if every animal instinct was suddenly accutely aware that his end was coming. The date of his death approached on dainty legs, at a snail's pace, weaving it's way down to meet him. And it seemed there was nothing he could do.

If he could not escape from the Chaos Realm before this terror caught up with him, he would undoubtedly die.

((Hint hint, nudge nudge))
---------------------------------------------------

@kishin asura@supertinyking
The creature steps forward again, grinning brightly. "I believe I-" With a blast of explosive energy, a wave of green radiation washes over the Nightmare. Even as the light fails the creature can be seen, half it's body burned off, reduced to nothing but ashes. And yet he merely recovered, the threads reconstructing him in mere moments. He simply takes a moment, as if he attempting to contain his annoyance, before glaring over at Rick.

Even as Rick was about to release his second blast, the floor gives way under his feet. He drops down, the blast of energy firing off into a random direction. His hand catches on the edge of the hole that had spontaneously appeared. The strain was immense, forced to hold up his entire body with one arm, unless he were to drop the gun. Beneath, far below him, he could see a swarm of ravening mouths, black slugs covered in razor teeth, buzzing around one another in anticipation of their meal. He was clinging on for dear life, as the Nightmare seemed to appear at the edge of the pit.

It glanced down at him with a sort of mock pity, the look he might have given one of his victims when they cried out for him to stop. It was strange, seeing the look mirrored on a face so similar, and yet so different from his own. He had an odd moment of reflection, before the creature lifted an elegant boot, and stepped on his hand, breaking all his fingers. The shattered with a sickening crunch under the sudden pressure, pieces of shattered bone piercing his skin in various places. "My, you really don't scare easily, do you? Well, let's see if you fear death. If not.... well, who cares anyway?" With a final sadistic grin, the creature once more lifted it's boot, preparing to stomp on Rick's one remaining hand.

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

@Snarfulblast
Eh, it's a magical world. Dream gained sentience, possessed body of dreamer. Sounds completely legit.
Accepted.

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

Name: The Herald of War
Species: Unknown
Age: Unknown
Appearance:

Abilities:
Unstoppable Death Machine
The Herald of War has strength, speed, stamina and durability beyond that of any normal being. It's martial prowess are unmatched, it's perception and reaction speed are far beyond human limit. The Herald of War can crush rocks and outrun cars. None can match him in a swordfight, and he has bested beasts many times his size. This power is simply here to tell you that this guy is a melee combat death machine, and that he can withstand an insane amount of punishment.

Secrets
Not all of this character's abilities are present. Whilst usually all of a character's abilities and skills are represented within the CS, this is not the case for The Herald of War. This is because certain abilities would allude to the character's true identity, something I would prefer to keep a secret. The abilities will be reviewed by the GM however.
Weaknesses:
There are weaknesses, but none are known.
Bio:
Little is known about the Herald of War. When Kiyoko built the Dragon Guard, he chose to gather the greatest warriors of Japan. He held a tournament, a massive battle for powerful samurai to prove themselves. From here he gained the warrior he needed, a man called Hiro, who was fused with the Storm God Susano-O. He was given Ame no Murakamo no Tsurugi, the legendary blade that had rested in the Emperor's possession for thousands of years. He was a poweerful warrior, wielding the power of storms alongside the power of the blade, augmenting his own physical powers to a level of Godlike perfection.

It took ten seconds for the Herald to kill him. The Dragon Guard had been on a mission to eliminate Hekate, the Greek God of witches. All he found was a headless corpse. Hiro challenged the Herald, who had killed the minor God, to battle. This battle was lethal for him, and the Herald took his sword. He then marched to the Emperor's Palace in order to return Hiro's beheaded corpse, for unknown reasons. At the court he was arrested, but Kiyoko soon realized that any man able to defeat a member of the Dragon Guard would be able to slaughter the local soldiers. So instead of fighting the Herald, he offered him a job. The Herald accepted.
Theme Song: youtube.com/watch?v=2kZIn1HPdf4

Hell's Coffee Lounge: You're gonna have a bad time....

@Falcon-oyce
Your character is accepted.

@Snarfulblast

Also, your char's accepted.

Edit: Wait, nevermind, no he's not. Just read your lack of a bio. He's from the Chaos Realm?

Chaos Realm beings are formed from emotions. The Chaos Realm is the realm of thoughts and dreams, and as such any being in there that grows stable gains power from emotion, or is generated by a particular emotion (or perhaps multiple). Lucy is fear, Mortis is rage...

Unless you want to pose that your character is a magical construct, like Lucy's minions? At which point he would be someone's dream, perhaps a gaming dream? And even then he'd usually just fall apart, so you're going to have to think of a reason this guy sticks around while everything else in the Chaos Realm is constantly changing.

@Tyki
Char accepted.