Avatar of Wraithblade6
  • Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
  • Joined: 12 yrs ago
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    1. Wraithblade6 12 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Current I may not come back. It was nice playing with you all. I wish you all good lives.
7 likes
6 yrs ago
The fires of hell did not kill me.
9 yrs ago
No shoes no shirt and I still get service WHY?!
9 yrs ago
Too tired to post.
9 yrs ago
God told me, I've already got the life.....

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@supertinyking@thewizardguy

Mithias stepped to the side as blue Bob flattened Drac. Indeed Drac was arrogant, quite like Bob explained. Granted, he did sincerely come back to this time period for the reasons he claimed, but he really could have been more... hm, apologetic?

Bob's anger flared as she threatened to make Drac slaughter his own family. Harsh though it was, Mithias had to consider it fairly on par with what Drac and Ozzy had been, and were still, trying to do. He couldn't hold it against Bob entirely, although God help him if Mithias wanted to try to stop him. He stood by, merely vigilant as the two had their exchange.

The sight of Alucard was enough to make Mithias grit his teeth. Alucard was a hideous fiend, and a source of shame for what Mithias had not yet become, but could have. The eyes were the same, and he could not deny it. It wasn't something he really wanted to see ever again, such a reminder of his own flaws, his limited resilience against hopelessness and despair. "Ah. I thank you for the reminder, Bob. I realize, you have been good to me." He looked upon the hovering form of his alternate self once more and furrowed his brow at it. "All that this vision inspires within me is the desire to surpass it. I will not give up, as he did, and I will one day become stronger than Alucard ever was." Alucard had been incredibly strong, possibly enough to destroy even Bob outside of the chaos realm, or Drac on a good day. Then Mithias said something that was rather amusing, "Until then, my soul is yours, 'partner.'" Oh, did Mithias have intentions to eventually win back his freedom? Hilarious.

Then Drac began his psychosis-fueled resistance of Bob's magical control. Mithias stood blinking in disbelief. Was Drac's future self even stronger than in the current time?? Resisting Bob in his own dimension was unheard of, even if all Drac could manage was a staggering drudge. The beings he had allied himself with in this multiversal existence were absolutely, gods.
@thewizardguy

The shop mage shrugged at the meditating treasure hunter and regardless of being watched, began his work. He looked at the sword with various lenses, sprinkled it with powder, held it to a flame, darkened the lights and focused the various parts of it under a magnifying glass. Every now and then he would finish a test with an, "Ah ha," or a, "Hmm," as he observed the weapon's reactions.

Muttering, he walked away from his workbench only to return with a heavy book. "Symbols, symbols... hmm. Star? No, sun." Pages flipped and a puff of dust wafted into the room. Still he turned page after page until he came to the end of the book. "Foul sirens." He said in frustration, failing to find what he was looking for. Quickly looking up, he realized his customer was still in the room and regained his manners with a clear of his throat.

Puropal looked back down at the blade, stroking his chin hairs with scrutiny. "Now now. I'm not finished." This sword was beginning to be a personal challenge. He picked up a sharpened letter opening and pricked his finger, letting a single drop of blood fall on the blade. ... Nothing happened. With a stern, "Hmpf," he picked it up and wiped it clean, only to realize that upon touching it, his finger began to heal. "I'm sorry sir, but this 'artifact' isn't enchanted, it's... Oh, now what is this?" He looked at his finger with widened eyes and bushy brows, his gold teeth dingy in comparison to the gleeming hilt of the sword. It was healed, not even a scratch.

"Who did you say you got this from again?" Puropal asked, forgetting himself for a moment. Then he again cleared his throat and continued. He wasn't supposed to ask such things from his customers. "Ahem, nevermind. As I was saying, This artifact isn't enchanted so much as posessed. I'm not sure by whom, but it has a will of its own, and will only show 'what it can do' when it wants to. Hell knows whenever that may be." He started putting his implements and books away. "Clearly, it has healing properties, ironic for a sword. Perhaps you can use it for that."

The wizard seemed to be in a strange hurry all of a sudden. "Look, if you want my advice, don't get mixed up with it. Willed rings and weapons are never good news. It would be best for you if you sold it to me. I can have it fenced off tomorrow to a collector, and it'll spend the next decades as harmless scenery, which is probably where it belongs." Kisaki got the feeling there was something the shop mage wasn't saying.

Eventually, at the sight of Kisaki's doubt, Pendelton decided to come clean. He turned around and stopped putting things away for a moment. "Eh, there's one more thing I should tell you. There's a hex on the sword, and it's got the mark of a very powerful, dark god."
Waiting on lmpkio while I doddle in other rps.

It may take me a while to get into this. Do we need more good guys?
@supertinyking

I replied. Go do stuff with my mentally unstable ex-vampire.
@thewizardguy

As Kisaki began to lift the unconscious mage, he found his enemy had been carrying something rather large over his shoulder. Wrapped in layers of black cloth, it was a sword, a shining, elegant, yet sharp and durable longsword. It had a silver colored circle at the center of its guard, with radiant rays extending into the cross which were also supported by two golden wings. It felt incredibly light, as if it were made with some type of precious and rare metal. Surely it was expensive. Its grip was soft and comforting, bound with some kind of white leather. If he examined it anywhere near a light, he might see a single strand of white hair caught around its friendlier end.

A funny thing for a child-napping, fire-wielding, black mage to be carrying. Doubtful that it was meant to be a murder weapon. Questions only deepened when Kisaki grasped it properly and it healed his wounds.
@supertinyking

Mithias tensed anxiously for a second, then looked aside in a way that confirmed what Drac heard. He had lost his soul and Bob hadn't simply forgotten about it. Hiding off on sparsely populated iceworlds had done nothing to evade the Taker's memory. Mithias wondered if he was going to make it out of the coffee lounge this time or not. He tried to rationalize his chances. Surely Bob was allowing him to live and roam for a reason. If anything, they were friends, yeah... friends. Friends just don't go ripping each other's souls out. Bob wouldn't do that to him....

... oh f... Who am I kidding? Yes he would.

Mithias glanced back at Drac, then exasperatedly threw his arms up. "Bah! Please, spare me your pity, Drac. I've seen my future self and my death, and I'd rather have Bob yank my soul than let myself become that. At least this way, it can never happen." Mithias was referring to Alucard, a malicious monster who had lost all hope and had bent to serve the Omegan's will.
@thewizardguy@supertinyking

Mithias followed Drac into his portal, and the two stepped out into the chaos realm. Wherever they were going to appear suddenly vanished with a pop sound and the throng of the coffee lounge replaced as far as the eye could see. Damn Bob was fast.

Drac and Mithias found themselves on a stage, and both of them recognized this particular part of the chaos realm. It was the Theater, Bob's center of power of sorts, and where he held his "formal" entertainment. The firelight that had burned in the vampire's eyes dimmed and disappeared along with his expectation of any fighting. There was nothing Mithias had to worry about in here, except for perhaps Bob remembering that little contract he'd signed once. But other than that, Bob would control his guests, Drac didn't stand a chance of trying to kill him again, and maybe for once they'd actually save the universe ...this time.

The lounge was the busiest he'd ever seen it. Mithias merely watched as some liquid leapt out of a mug and began running down the table, across the floor, up another table, and jumped into someone else's mug while they weren't looking. ... Whatever the hell that was. He knew it was pointless to ask. He still had no idea how beings arrived here on their own, nor how even he had done so not long ago. But as long as this place was alive, it somehow meant that things were ok.

Bob whipped out a large book with a ghastly binding, and Mithias softly groaned his disapproval and turned away. Bob certainly had that dark side to him, black as pitch. Was it really right to defend him at all? Mithias thought about it. Surely the book wasn't real. It must have been for show, an illusion. ... Damn it was convincing. The grey knight risked a glance at a dangling red fetal arm from the front cover and was just a bit unsettled by it. Of course it was a show, but nothing made a better show than what was real. Mithias began to worry, and yet he could have sworn he saw Bob grin wickedly as he caught himself considering this.

Before Mithias could have reacted, Bob dramatically pulled him over and whispered in his ear. His statement could have been interpreted a dozen ways, from being a secret revelation about the future to merely childish playing. Certain he had no idea, Mithias responded typically. "Yes, Bob. I know. I'm well aware that Drac is undead..." They both were undead, Mithias and Drac, but the vampire didn't overstate the obvious. It probably wasn't what Bob had meant anyway. "Regardless, please don't kill him again, this time, er... at least not yet. Not before he's had a chance to explain why he's here. I'm sure you're curious anyway."
Sooooo. Who knows about 40k Space Marines? And how wrong would it be for me to bring them from an AU where the Horus Heresy never happened for those who do know about them.


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