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    1. thewizardguy 12 yrs ago

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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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Name: Kaine

Age: 1.760

Appearance:


Powers:
[Infernal Strength]
As a Dread Lord, Kaine is one of the most powerful warriors among the Demons of the Forge. He stands at over 3 meters tall, and possesses enough raw strength to rip through metal with his bare hands. The force behind his blows can send mortal men flying, and even the strongest human couldn't hold a candle to him.

[Son of Baal]
As a Demon of the Forge, Kaine is a magical being born from the Blood of Baal. Unlike most mortal beings, his body is a construct of magic, his 'soul' being a unique magical construct formed by the remnants of Baal's will. Like the rest of his species he is naturally filled with magic, although he uses it mainly to augment his natural physical prowess. As his body is kept alive by magic, instead of organs, it takes a lot more damage to put him down. While with most creatures you must target the vitals, against a Demon the only way to slay them is by damaging their body to the extent it can no longer hold itself together. Alternatively, weapons designed to kill demons are able to deal far more damage, exhausting the demon's magic to the point their body is unable to keep living. Should a Forge Demon be killed, their 'soul' and magical energy will be drained back to the World Forge, and fused once more with the Heart of Baal. There a new Demon will be born from this energy. This can be prevented by containing/destroying the 'soul'.

[Lord of War]
Kaine spent over a thousand years in constant combat as a Black Knight, honing his skills and physical prowess to the point of perfection, learning from hundreds of wars and millions of battles. He is a warrior whom's martial knowledge and skill outclasses mortal beings, his devotion to the martial arts making him an opponent to be feared. He is highly skilled with practically any melee weapon imaginable, although he's at his most dangerous when wielding his Reaper Blade. He is further a versed tactician, having been trained for over a hundred years, and having lead a nearly successful campaign to conquer the entirety of the Earth.

[Flight]
Due to his immense size and heavy armour, his wings are far from capable of carrying him. However, because of magic, they are able to defy the laws of physics, and Khaine is capable of flying at a reasonable pace.

[Dread Lord's Armaments]
With the power of the Forge, Kaine is capable of summoning a variety of weapons and armour. However, he rarely does so, instead relying on his blackened suit of Abyssal Plate. This armour functions like expertly forged steel plate mail, however the materials are significantly more sturdy than steel. They are especially resistant to flame and heat. He further wields the Reaper Blade, a powerful magical weapon granted only to the Dread Lords. This blade is bound to his being, and cannot be taken or wielded by another. It will always appear in his hand when he wishes for it, and it is incredibly dangerous. With a full length of nearly 2 meters, the titanic blade would be considered a greatsword to most others, but Kaine wields it in one hand. It's edge is magically heated, capable of melting it's way through solid metal with a little time. It's also very sharp, and practically indestructible as long as Kaine lives. Should Kaine die, another might take up the blade, although only if they bond with the blade will they be able to keep it.

Weaknesses:
[Divine Weaponry]
In the traditional sense, the Forge Demons, or the Sons of Baal, are very different from mythological demons. While violent, hateful and merciless, they are not inherently evil. Or at least no more so than an angry orc. However, many divine weaponry designed to destroy demons is capable of draining or fraying the magic keeping them alive, or containing their 'souls' after they die. These weapons are far more effective against Kaine than normal weaponry, although far from necessary to put him down.

[Bound by Honour]
As in mortal races, there is much variety in the Forge Demons. All are born of strife, embodying war and destruction. However, while some become brutal killing machines, others come to embody honourly combat, and the glory of battle. Kaine is considered incredibly kind for his species, and is often known to spare the life of a defeated opponent. However, he is also bound by honour. He will never engage in what he considers to be 'dishonourable conduct'. This includes breaking his word, attacking a guest, killing an opponent while they are sleeping, or breaking the terms of a duel. He is especially fond of duels and other tests of strength, although he is among the few that prefers not to fight to the death unless he deems it necessary.

Bio:
After his rise to the position of Dread Lord, Kaine quickly made a reputation for himself. While he was a highly capable commander and a skilled warrior, his kindness made him strange to many of his kin. He openly spoke out against the common practice of dragging helpless worlds into the World Forge, to be smelted down into weapons and machines of war. While he too revelled in the glory of combat, he wished to do so against worthy opponents, and considered the slaughter of innocents unseemly. However, he earned the respect of his peers when he successfully captured the city of Atlantis, which had been successfully holding off his predecessor, with the assistance of Samuel Damachai, an immensely powerful human mage. However, during said war, a duel took place that would forever change Kaine's life.

The atlanteans had created a series of powerful warriors to face the demons, cloned humans imbued with the powers of a demon, and covered in arcane channeling runes. These warriors, equipped with powerful magical weapons, presented a final front against the demonic army at the gates of Atlantis. The leader of the mortals challenged Kaine to a duel, and Kaine accepted. The battle was one-sided from the start, even amped by atlantean magic no mortal could stand up to a Dread Lord. Blow after blow rained down on the brave knight, but every time he was knocked down, he got back up. Even as Kaine ripped the man's weapon from his hand, the mortal punched the demon in the face. Only to reveal that he was holding a powerful AP grenade in his hand. The explosion ripped off part of Kaine's face, and left him permanently scarred, as well as severing the warrior's arm. And yet, as Kaine staggered back into stance, the warrior merely picked up his weapon with the remaining arm, facing off the Dread Lord. That day Kaine admitted defeat, and if it hadn't been for the intervention of Samuel Damachai, Atlantis would have been saved from destruction. The mortal took up the name Dreadslayer, and Kaine pronounced Dreadslayer his rival, to be faced again.

After many further encounters, the Dreadslayer and Kaine would face off one final time in front of the Australian Citadel. Even as his armies prepared to conquer the entire planet, Kaine was drawn into a duel once more. The war had become irrelevant, as these two warriors faced one another. The Dreadslayer had grown powerful, and the two were evenly matched. Blade met blade, fist met face, and blood hit the ground. The two fought until neither could stand, neither willing to stand down, neither willing to admit defeat. But, impossibly, the Dreadslayer rose, even as his blood poured down through his armour, even as his organs began to fail. Kaine's body was battered and bruised, and as his blade was smashed from his hand, the Dreadlsayer's weapon was laid to his neck. And for the first time in his life, Kaine surrendered willingly, knowing he had been bested. Moments after these words had been spoken, the Dreadslayer dropped dead, his wounds too much for his body to bear.

With his pride shattered, and his rival gone, Kaine retreated from the Dreadlsayer's world. He held his word, and forbid his soldiers from ever setting foot there again. However, he was no longer considered fit to lead, and he was stripped of his title. Enraged, Kaine slew the warrior who was intended to take his place, and the next, and the next. But even as the three Black Knights lay dead before him, Kaine knew that, more importantly than the judgement of his peers, he had lost face in his own eyes. So while he refused to sacrifice his title, he went into exile, travelling the worlds to find honour and glory among the stars. He rarely meets his kind nowadays, and his travels might forever change the way he perceives life.

Theme Song: to be added
Put up a post. Tell me if anyone has any issues with it ^_^.
@Remipa Awesome

Something was 'up'.

It was a subtle thing. A combination of tiny little signals, in just the right order. A calculated observation that the weak or foolish might mistake for 'intuition'. The subtle scent of blood in the air, a coppery flavour that brought a grin to her face. Deep silence, occasionally broken by a slight strange sound, too soft to have been overhead by normal ears. Gunshots, far in the distance, muffled by concrete walls and artificial silencers. A tension in the air palpable enough to be tasted. Mia stalked from rooftop to rooftop, drawn to the slaughter like a mother to the flame. It was her obsession, her sole desire, a hunger that transcended the mere need for blood that drove the mindless drones among her kin. For she hunted the intoxication of death, the beauty that could only be found in the end of a life. Capturing the very moment that life fades into nothingness in her memory, an eternal tribute to those she killed.

Mia looked up, as she once more heard gunshots. She found herself in front of a large building complex. From the outside, it appeared to be nothing more than a large office or apartment building. Generic in every sense of the word, it was a place Mia would have usually avoided if not for the suspicious cloud of greyish gas that now bloomed from the top of this tower. Coupled, of course, with the delectable scent of blood that now strongly cloyed the air, calling out to her. It took mere moments to find the source of this perfume in the bodies of several vampires, strewn haphazardly on the ground in the shadow of the building. Mia looked from corpse to corpse, admiring as the expressions gradually became every more alarmed, as blissful ignorance gave way to sudden panic. It was a beautiful progression, a matching set to emphasize the gradient curve of fear. It was a shame they had to be vampires, humans always made for far more delicious pieces than her coldblooded kin.

Of course, a second site soon drew her attention. Atop a nearby building, the very walls were dripping with blood. Mia hopped over the ledge with inhuman grace, a shadow stalking the skyline. A single clawed finger reached down, dipping into a pool of blood, as Mia took the tiniest of sips. It was fresh, twenty minutes at most. Even fresher than the corpses downstairs. The scene was one of torture, a vampire had been painstakingly dismembered, their blood splattered freely to weaken them. But while one hand had been fully cleansed of fingers, the other hand still held three, and it was clear the entire process had been performed in a hurry. Being the resident expert on the subject, Mia quickly discerned this had not been an entertainment killing, it had been business. And considering the bear trap that had been used, it had been a human who had done the act. A hunter, and a hunter with a goal.

Mia grin as she brought her little investigation to a close, thoroughly pleased with herself. The large-looking bullet casings that littered the floor were meaningless to her, as were the gunpowder stains and the scrape marks that dotted the terrain. But torture, that was an open book to her, and what she read was exciting to say the least. Mia was never left without entertainment, there was always something to do when you're this easy to please. But hunters, they were a special toy, made all the more savoury by their rarity. Mia would swear that their hatred could be discerned from their blood, giving it an exquisitely bitter aftertaste. And this hunter was good, wiping out an entire 4-man vampire squad. And these weren't newly turned welps, either. Not to mention that this particular hunter might be involved in the mess taking place inside this building.

Licking her chops like a hungry wolf, Mia dropped down to the ground floor. The area she was about to enter was no doubt filled with danger, very different from the mindless cattle she usually preyed on. But danger simply added flavour to the hunt, and as mother always said, food tastes better when you've earned it. Slipping through the unlocked doors, crawling over the ceiling as she explored this large empty building, she followed the scent of the human. There was more blood in the air, and more dead. Humans, this time. Beautiful. This was going to be a lot of fun. Grinning widely, Mia darted up the stairs, swiftly coming to a rest when she heard the telltale signs of heavy, laboured breathing. Screams filled the air, and death made it's presence known. Mia's blood was pumping, her head was pounding, she could feel the excitement rushing through her body as she opened the final door, walking out onto the roof. There stood a lone figure, a single human, the slight smell of blood like an aura about him, emanating from the many slight cuts and bruises he had acquired. Mia could hear the beating of his heart, an erratic thump-thump, thump-thump, the smell of fear on his back. The smell of defeat. The smell of cattle, of prey, of weakness.

"Nice night, isn't it?" Would this person be a disappointment? Based on their position, Mia half expected them to throw themselves off the building on the spot. She'd seen it before, during her hunts. She had hunted down a lion, and found herself faced with a mouse. Perhaps he had been broken before she even arrived? Little did she care for the situation, even as the city began to be devoured by the living dead, but this unexpected change of pace most certainly piqued her interest. "I was just out for a stroll, and figured I'd say hi. Any nice sights out today?"
@Wraithblade6
All right, I'll see if I can put up a post sometime today.
Heya, is this still active? I've pretty much abandoned this RP based on a bunch of stuff, but with the last of my exams just finished, I find myself finally possessing time again.

So hey, if this is still open, I'd love to rejoin.
I think I'm going to have to drop this. It looks like an awesome rp, and I'm sorry I'm not able to participate, but I simple find that I do not have the time or frame of mind to properly maintain a roleplay. So sorry for any holdup I may have caused, and sorry to leave, but I am simply not able to muster the required number of posts to adequately participate.
@tex
Sorry about the holdup. I'll try and post sometime today.
@tex
Buttercup stood motionless, observing the human as they gave their little speech. It had been a long time since Buttercup had stood in rank and file, among scared and desperate humans. When Joshua saluted the group, Buttercup was one of the few that returned the gesture. It was surprising, really. Even after all these years it was still a reflex, automatically saluting your superiors. Buttercup adjusted his stance slightly, suddenly conscious of the way he'd been standing. He had no muscles to tense, but his stance had been that of a fighter. Balanced and ready, dividing his significant weight evenly while maintaining the capability to move quickly. It was a fighter's stance, and it was a pose he had thought he had long abandoned. But although his mind might have outgrown his military training, his body had not. Any fear he had had over losing his skills over time were abolished. The art of war had been woven into his very essence, and no matter how far he might distance himself from it, it would never be far from his reach.

Finished with this little bout of introspection, Buttercup noticed the others had left. The life of a human being was riddled with needs and wants, the constant maintenance of their bodies and their short attention span requiring them to move from place to place, stopping only when they had something to do. Buttercup saw no reason to move, as he required neither food nor water. Instead he merely stood, observing the world around him in complete silence as he contemplated the mission he was about to go on. When one has no need for sleep and an unlimited lifespan, one finds far more time for simple contemplation. Unfortunately, the local workers didn't see it that way, and after some time had passed Buttercup was rather sternly dismissed from the location.

Ten minutes later, Buttercup could be found at a local tailor. He had been informed that he needed to acquire a uniform, and unfortunately they didn't have one in his particular size. Over the years Buttercup had acquired some money, although he had never sought it out. Coins given by Divers in exchange for directions, information, or assistance, built up over the years. It wasn't much, but it was enough to pay for a custom-made uniform, if not a very fancy one.

"Well, I certainly haven't made anything on this... scale, before. But yeah, I could certainly make this." The tailor stepped back from the golem, putting away the knotted string as he gave his customer a final look over. The tailor in question was an old man, although Buttercup was far from proficient at judging ages. His hair was white and his face was wrinkled, but the spring in his step spoke of a healthy body hidden beneath the veil of age. There was a glimmer in his eye that spoke of a passion pursued, and it was that very same glimmer that had lead Buttercup to this particular venue. Those most skilled at an art are always those who pursue it with all their might. With tailoring as well as war. "Of course, it'll take me a week to put together. Five days, if we hurry."

"That is not acceptable. I require a uniform by evening." Buttercup's deep, metallic voice was incapable of emoting concern. However, he made certain to speak softly and slowly, that the man might not mistake his displeasure for anger.

"Well, unless you got some kinda fancy time magic, that's the time it's going to take." The tailor shrugged, and it was clear the issue was one of possibility rather than willingness.

Buttercup took a moment to think things over. A moment too long, perhaps, judging by the way the tailor gently rapped his breastplate. But he came to a conclusion, in time. "A full uniform is not necessary. I will merely require a cloak. The only matter of importance is that it carries the sigil that I showed you."

The tailor raises an eyebrow. "Well, that I could certainly fix up right quick, and it'll cost you a pretty penny less." He'd hardly finished before Buttercup placed the previously agreed upon sum on the tailor's writing table. The money was not an issue, whatever the CMAS were paying was more than Buttercup would need anyway. The tailor took a moment, then simply shrugged and accepted the coin. "Pick it up in bout three hours time, and I'll have it ready for you." With these words and a shooing gesture, the tailor set to work.

Having learned from his previous experience, Buttercup left the shop before sinking into contemplation once more. Of course, this didn't stop the tailor from shooing him away from his front porch after some twenty minutes, realizing that the golem wasn't exactly attracting new customers. Regardless, once the evening hour struck Buttercup would arrive at the southern gate in his new cloak. A simple thing, but it wore the CMAS insignia on the back, and the lapel of one of the uniforms had been attached to the neckpiece of the cloak. While it certainly didn't fit in with the uniformed cadets, it at the very least identified him as a member of the expedition. And with that out of the way, Buttercup was ready to embark on this little adventure.
Sorry for how long it's taking to put down a post. I've found myself suddenly rather busy irl, and haven't been able to find the time to write up a good post. I'll have one up today though, probably...
@tex
Ah, sorry. I was a bit distracted, I'll have a post up today, when I get home.
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