Ice cold wisps of shadow dripped from Xuan's elongated limb (at this point it was less of an arm and more a long flexible spike). She had settled into a half-crouch after scratching her prey, legs coiled beneath her in readiness to spring. Her milk-white eyes tracked the movements of the shadow-man. The dripping was incessent, constant, though never wuite oud enough to warrant proper attention.
But Xuan was curious, (or she thought she would be(or maybe it was just the hunger?)) so, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the seething shadows not half the building away from her, she bought the shadow-ichor dipped limb to her malformed lips.
Her tongue snaked out, probing, almost prehensile, and took in some of the liquid shadow.
She bent double, coughing, spike-limbs digging into the floor as she threw up the contents of her immaterial gut. A sordid mixture of blood and half-chewed flesh spilled out across the ground, foetid and discoloured by gastric acids. Purple-black ichor stained one area, spreading, tainting the once-ingested flesh with it's degrading touch.
Xuan's limbs (which had become hands once more) grabbed at her stomach, crossing, fingers digging into the shadow-flesh. The foul taste of her prey's blood still hung around her mouth like the worst kind of spices, burning and cold at the same time, unbearable and still so familiar. Her mind railed against even beginning to think of devouring the man that sat across from her nursing his wound. It was just totally and utterly wrong, the taste, the texture, even the act of stripping the shade flesh had been revolting.
Her struggled hacking rent the air once more as the last vestiges of the ichor escaped her system. From her foetal crouch she recovered, eyes blazing with unfeeling hatred. She could not experience the total rage that she wanted, but she knew how it was supposed to feel, the hunter in her mind died, no longer needed.
She wanted revenge. And she would have it, or die.
Across the room she bound, spinning in the air, leg coming down, aiming for an axe kick. But her leap had been to high, she missed her target, her leg colliding with the brick behind him, snapping them in their place. She reasserted her balance and prepared to fend off the attack that she knew would come, while swiping low with her other clawed hand.
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Eastern Equestria, born and raised... etc
Gaulish Viking metal is actually, an aphrodisiac
Crouched on the third floor of the parking structure, Archard was prepared for a repeat attack. He wasn’t ready for the violent vomiting that the attacker suffered after tasting his blood, and so he missed the opportunity that the weakness supplied.
He was just as surprised to see the malformed creature rearrange itself into a very small woman, with short black hair which only allowed partial glimpse of her dead, white eyes. A tight, body hugging t-shirt, with only a hint of the white it used to be faintly glowing through the patina of shadow that now covered it and her baggy blue cargo pants, showed off a very nice female form. But her body language, as she recovered from her illness, was anything but nice.
He was not surprised when she attacked once again, though he noted that the reason had changed. Before, it had been as a predator in a hunt. Now it was out of anger, or something so similar as to not make a difference, and this change made a difference in her approach.
No longer the graceful beast, her attack was high and sloppy. The kick inflicted more damage to the wall that he had just cracked, as he darted to the side, literally sliding across the smooth concrete. Entering a shadow, he jumped back to his original hiding spot.
Dropping from the ceiling, even as she counter-attacked a blow that he wasn’t even there to throw, Archard landed in a graceful crouch and casually picked up his fallen sword. Raising to his feet, he ignited the electo-blade, causing a faint purple luminescence to cover the long thin blade.
Walking slowly toward the smaller shade, sword held lightly by his side, he gave a hungry grin. “What is the matter, princess? Am I not what you expected? Or perhaps I am just too much for your delicate stomach to take! Well, it doesn’t really matter now. I owe you one,” taunted Archard as he moved closer.
“And I always repay my…”
Before he could finish the cliché, Archard launched a tight, looping attack even as he sprang forward over the last dozen feet separating the two shades, intending to disembowel his attacker.
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He was close. He was so close, he could feel it. The once intense hunt dropped into something akin to a simple fistfight. It didn't matter though. Stopping a few buildings away from the parking lot, he watched. He didn't know what was going on, he didn't care about the other shade, he just wanted a good show. A fight that wasn't completely one-sided. Chuckling from the ledge he sat on, he muttered, "Am I going to enjoy this."
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Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?
Ins thought for a moment.
Go with this complete stranger, or continue with his boring life.
"Sure. Why the hell not." With a slight groan, the man stood himself up and brushed himself off. Finally, he offered his hand. "I'm Ins. Ins Rivella."
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Skype|cptporkinson Steam| ~|CptPorkins|~
Don't message me on either of these, unless you have a really good reason.
She missed. Claws caught only air in their vice-grip, her parry went unused. Xuan wanted to feel the burn of adrenaline, the pump of blood through her veins, heightening her awareness and initiate that age old reflex, fight or flight.
But her already supremely superior senses had no time for fleeing, and the fight was all that she cared about anyway. She eyed the man who had retrieved the weapon that had been sent skidding earlier, and was now advancing on her, flickering lightning sending ghostly patterns of arced electricity. He spoke, deriding her, speaking down to her. As if he were better, inherently, despite their obviously shared predicament.
Xuan had neither the time nor inclination to reply to her opponent however, as his attack swept towards her. The thunder-blade churned the air where it cut, slicing the molecules, disrupting the flow and letting it sing swift and true towards Xuan's torso.
From her crouched position Xuan spun away, the concentrated ozone burning her over-sensitive nostrils as the blade missed her by a hairs breadth. As she spun her arms lengthened and thickened, becoming club like, and extended like a horizontal windmill, creating space between her and the man.
She then thrust both arms at him, letting the forelimbs lengthen further, thinning, becoming whip-like. Her shoulders bulked in reaction to this, allowing her to wind one arm back and bring it down like a ball and chain.
"I cannot feast upon you. But I will kill you. That will satisfy my hunger."
Powers:
-Morphing ability (Think Animorphs, but it takes several minutes to completely morph)
-Speak to other species in their language
-Can manipulate small creatures (Like rats)
Skills:
-Solve hard question
-Fluent in different languages (German, French)
-Persuasive
-Can hack, and work with computers
Description: Clothing
-Wears a thick plaid black shirt with little to no stains or any residue of anything really (he washes his clothes a lot) and some holes which he has sown on slightly lighter black fabric onto.
-Wears some thick grey jeans that he takes care not to rip when outside (he is also paranoid of the viruses, so he stays inside mostly)
-Often wears a hoodie with the words "Never give up" sown into it by his deceased mother, he usually has the hood up so he almost looks like a gangster
-Always wears a face-mask as he believes the virus with be swallowed into his system and he'll turn into a shade
-Wears leather boots with neatly tied bow-tie laces that he can easilly re-tie if they come undone Physical
-Moderately Tall, around 5'7''
-Fairly slim as well at 143lb.
-Has blonde hair combed neatly to the right, no fails to comb it if even only one small tuft comes loose
-Has greenish-blue eyes that reminiscent of a swampy pool of water
-Has thin lips that can purse into an almost invisible line
-Fairly thin build, little muscle on him
-His head is actually more rounded, but still ends at his chin
-Usually has a small handlebar mustache that he shows around ( )
Inventory:
-Pocket Knife (He's a little paranoid)
-$32 in Cash
-Wallet with IDs
-Picture of his wife
Personality: Joseph is a little bit of a worrywart, he sits in his house almost everyday living off of canned goods.
His wife his slightly less paranoid but still does not exiting the house often, he is a friendly guy who will socialize easily, but indoors.
Overall he is quite the conspiracy theorist but is amicable and helpful pretty much all the time too, but can be serious and solemn at moments as well.
Biography: His parents Madeline Clutche and Johnathan Tilman were kind parents who treated Joseph with respect and honor, but did not give in to his demands and spoil him, that made his life productive and sweet. In Grade Seven he skipped to Grade Nine and graduated High School one year early. Despite his young age people in High School became friends with him and even bullies didn't threaten him with their fists or weapons or anything at all.
He was respected and took Computer Tech and learned how to hack basic security software, but didn't let the power corrupt him like other hackers that learned at an early age, when he entered University they accepted him gratefully and even payed for 25% of his tuition due to his amazing mathematical and language-based abilites, however he was a wimp and could not fight, nor draw anything creative at all. When he got a job as a Computer Engineer he designed several features seen on the average modern computer (In this roleplay) like the holo-display and the advanced voice/touch interface. He married Penelope Thurston who was his first true love and the two now reside in New York City where they fear the outside and travel cautiously.
Education (What form of education does this character have?): Joseph has a high level of education. He skipped Grade Eight, he took many courses in High School and mainly went academic. He graduated High School a year early because he skipped (He also knows computers a lot because of several courses he took during High School) He has a Ph.D in Technological Sciences and a Degree in Astronomy.
Overall Joseph is of high intelligence but lacks creativity and strength.
Strengths (What strengths does your character have?):
-Intelligent
-Sociable
-Technological Prodigy
Weaknesses (Stubbed toe is not a weakness):
-Weak
-Lack of creativity
-Paranoia
Fun Facts (Anything your character does. Do they smoke? Write that here):
None really, except that he can throw knives accurately (I don't know why, maybe because of of his calculative ability)
RP Example:Joseph was waking up from his bed, he creaked his strained neck joints (That hadn't quite adjusted to his new bed) toward the alarm clock, it read 6:54AM, Joseph sighed
"Why must I always wake up early," he said as he stretched and pulled himself out of his vegetative state. He scratches his back and slips on a pair of jeans and a nice long-sleeved shirt that envelops you like a blanket.
He walks downstairs, awaiting breakfast, sure enough his mother calls from across the room
"BREAKFAST! I made bacon and eggs, honey!" she says while she rubs her son's blonde hair, famished, Joseph snarfs the food down his gullet and drinks a glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice.
Anything I should add? (What would make this RP better?): Nothing really, I like how the creator foreshadows the origin of the two diseases, makes it that much more...mysterious
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
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[Not a mod, but I say meh. Your character feels too OP imo. Bending even just a fraction of space and time can make you invincible. Bending time would let you get out of the way of melee attacks, bending space would let you dodge just about anything. Nay please. Also, Gary Stu.
EDIT: Hey Thanatos can I eat one of the Harbringers? Pretty please?]
[[I agree with CloudJhi. I can see what you were going for but it was very poorly implemented and with little thought about the powers that everyone else has in comparison.
If I may, I suggest that you ditch the idea of those physic-y powers. The idea is nice, with his degree he would actually be able to understand and do things with those abilities, but he would be a god with them,no matter how much you tried to play it down (and having a look at your rp sample, I doubt that you would be able to do so).
I'd say give him an ability that had nothing to do with his intelligence, something a lot more physical, primal, even, something that differed with his personality to such an extreme, that he was afraid, or even pained when using.
For example, you say he doesn't like going outside? Well make him solar-powered, his physical strength and stamina increases when he's in direct sunlight or something. When not, he's debilitated, dessicated, unable to operate properly.
Anyway, nerf it, change the personality.
(Or if Thantos wants you in, ignore everything I just said)]]
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Eastern Equestria, born and raised... etc
Gaulish Viking metal is actually, an aphrodisiac
[[I agree with CloudJhi. I can see what you were going for but it was very poorly implemented and with little thought about the powers that everyone else has in comparison.
If I may, I suggest that you ditch the idea of those physic-y powers. The idea is nice, with his degree he would actually be able to understand and do things with those abilities, but he would be a god with them,no matter how much you tried to play it down (and having a look at your rp sample, I doubt that you would be able to do so).
I'd say give him an ability that had nothing to do with his intelligence, something a lot more physical, primal, even, something that differed with his personality to such an extreme, that he was afraid, or even pained when using.
For example, you say he doesn't like going outside? Well make him solar-powered, his physical strength and stamina increases when he's in direct sunlight or something. When not, he's debilitated, dessicated, unable to operate properly.
Anyway, nerf it, change the personality.
(Or if Thantos wants you in, ignore everything I just said)]]
Even though I meant it to such a minor degree (Like a few seconds or so) not enough to dodge attacks, sure. I'll change it ._.
"go ahead and enjoy it" sais Kurt, as he passes the other shade. "but This is one unnatural fight, and being there makes sure any life and death decisions get your say" Kurt begins running quickly across the rooftops and into the parking building. he hears the intense whir of an electric blade with his advanced hearing on the fifth floor and goes downwards more cautiously, aware of the louder and louder snarls and scrapes of fighting.
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Time to update the ol' rpg test.The ones I get the most are Tactician, Cleric, and Paladin
[[AverageJoe: Thanks for applying. Since I don't see anything related to time/spacial abilities, I assume that you took the others concerns to heart. (We like hearts around here.) Your current power set is acceptable, with one exception... the manipulation of small animals. I would not care to deal with swarms of rats, so limit it to one small creature at a time and that will be fine.
Clarifications: You mention your dead mother in the description, and RP her in the sample. I am assuming that you will describe her death in an opening post, correct? Also, the special rule to see if you read the rules... I do not know if that is your wife or not. please clarify that as well.
Pending acceptance on your clarifications.
Cloud: IF they do not post this next week, then yes, you may eat one. We will let the others share too :smile.gif: And we will take care of you for the week, never fear.::eg:: ]]
YETTO
{Alley with Ins}
"Sure. Why the hell not?" With a slight groan, the man stood himself up and brushed himself off. Finally, he offered his hand. "I'm Ins. Ins Rivella."
The tall Yetto looked down on the shorter man with his extended hand, black and green hair, goatee, scarred face and one blood red eye. Wondering if perhaps he was getting drawn into Zeke’s war whether he wanted to or not, he clasped the smaller man’s hand in his own thin fingered grip. Giving one pump, he let go and stepped back from the “hardcore” styled Harbringer.
“I will arrange for you to meet with Zeke. He is the Harbringer that will be the most helpful in developing your gifts. But he has a price, one that you may not be interested in paying. I’ll let him give you the spiel, but it is not something that you have to accept. So don’t think I am trying to force you into anything.”
Yetto looked up to the roof where he had fought the shade. “But perhaps, it would be best if you seriously consider his offer. The city is not very safe.” He smiled a grim smile, “Well, it has never been very safe, but it is getting worse. And now that you have changed, a lot of it will be gunning for you. Even if you try to avoid it, it will be coming at you.”
Pulling out a cell phone, Yetto speed dialed Zeke. As the music played ’Cat People (Putting out the Fire)’, the refrain going “Putting out the fire with Gasoline”, the tall man added, “And it will want to eat your heart.”
His attack was perfect. Perfect in form, perfect in aim, perfect in speed.
But it missed.
The female shade moved with such grace and speed that the blade never reached flesh, though it did part the fabric of her t-shirt, exposing a long slice of unblemished obsidian-hued abdomen. Then her defensive turn became offensive as her arms became clubs, then flails, nearly crushing him under a hammer blow.
His own dance saved his foot from being mashed to pulp, and he wove a defensive screen with the glowing blade of his sword. The multiple swirls and slices made by the tip could almost be seen as the purple haze lagged just slightly behind his movements and none of them actually touched the small shade, as they were only meant to slow her down.
"I cannot feast upon you. But I will kill you. That will satisfy my hunger." It was said with such lack of human emotion, that it became even more frightening. But he did detect something in the timbre. A hint of longing? Could she want the fight because it made her feel more… alive?
Archard held his guard ready, in the classic fencers pose, while he pondered the scene in front of him. He too acknowledged that the hunt and the fight had made him actually feel something as close to a human emotion as he had had since his death and resurrection. And it was gooood! It filled something that he had been wanting without even knowing it.
So he accepted that his own actions had been a search for feeling as well as for hearts over the past week. That was why he had been playing with his food, as it were. The feeling of terror that the meat expressed, the need to drive them to panic, all of it was another attempt by his body to feed a new hunger.
Carefully, he stood up, dropping his aggressive stance, though keeping the sword in a defensive position. He had accepted vice as a living man, but he was always in control. He had never suffered an addiction like so many of the lesser willed succumbed too. And he would not allow himself to fall victim to one now.
The woman before him, awesome in her power and primal presence, she suffered as he did. But could she be made to see what it was? Would she care? He did not think her weak willed, but she may not want to stop. And if that were so, then he would kill her.
But, if she would listen… He could use someone of her talents.
“So, princess, are you hungry? Do you long for hearts of these sheep? I understand that, appreciate it, and encourage it. But did you know that you have another hunger? Can you see it, yet? Are you longing for it right now, without even knowing it? The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of battle? Looking for some feelings? Got to have it? Will do anything for it?”
Using the sneering voice of a disgusted mentor, Archard asked, “Are you a junkie, princess?”
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
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[Gonna use my time as much as I can. I can't really promise much activity though.]
"Wait, what?" Mark said, confused at the the other shade's response. "Oh no you don't. Don't you dare ruin my show!"
That said, Mark gave chase after the other shade. "Or you know what, dare to ruin my show. I'd say we crash in at the party."
Mark summoned his strings once more, and piercing through the concrete and wrapping around them. With a swift tug, the concrete gave way, and a hole to the 4th floor was opened. Landing on the 4th floor, Mark called, "You coming or not?"
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Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?
Her shadow-blood was up, she could feel it. Thirsting, writhing in anticipation as her opponent avoided the attacks and settled into a low, old fashioned sword stance. She knew that the longer she waited the less likely it was they wouldn't be interfered with. She could already hear noises from a few floors above, voices, the cracking of concrete. It wouldn't be long now before her fight was interrupted.
(Had she cared, or been capable of it, she would have pitied those who dared to distract her attention away from this man.)
She took the brief lull in movement to inspect him more thoroughly. Before now he had just been the silhouette of a man, barely registering in any meaningful way save for the fluidity of his movements, the lack of obvious pain, the intelligent eyes.
Now his face came into stark definition as the hunter and fighter sized up her opponent. Short, but not as short as she, and very well built, even beneath the rippling shadows she could see obvious definition, (the skin-tight suit he was wearing didn't hinder it much either).
His face was cold and impassive, perfectly controlled and capable. It was in the brief second that their seeking eyes met, and Xuan knew this man would not fall to her blades or limbs, nor to anything else she could warp herself into. This was a man who knew how to move and how to manipulate.
She so dearly wanted to kill him.
He moved, and Xuan twitched forward, limbs shaking as she tried to figure a way around this complex warrior, but he made no aggressive action. He simply stood, and began to speak.
"So, princess, are you hungry? Do you long for hearts of these sheep? I understand that, appreciate it, and encourage it. But did you know that you have another hunger? Can you see it, yet? Are you longing for it right now, without even knowing it? The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of battle? Looking for some feelings? Got to have it? Will do anything for it? Are you a junkie, princess?”
Xuan listened quietly. Noises came from above, muffled by the thick slabs between the floors. Her lips parted, and rolled backwards, curling up and dripping shade-flesh that splattered to the floor for just long enough to eat at the concrete before dissipating into the air. This man spoke well, spoke with power. He knew of the flesh-hunger and the bloodthirst. He knew what she was and what he was. He understood and was willing to question that existence that they shared.
Something she hadn't done since she'd taken her first heart.
Xuan trembled then, the reality of her actions crashing down on her. It wasn't an emotional tumult, but one of realisation, sudden understanding, an epiphany, if you will. Her hunger had driven her to the very breach of primal, unrelenting force, and she'd willingly leapt forward. She'd taken her situation at face value, unseeing after the devouring of her first blood-pump. Everything had become about the hunt, the game, the joy that she knew she could feel if she tried just one more, another, the last one, in search of those beautiful hearts.
That would never. Happen. Again.
The lower half of her face became solid once more, as she reasserted control. His words were strong, and held great power. She could do the same.
"I am in control. You are in control. We seek the same thing. I am no 'junkie'. I am Xuan Zu, I am Chinese. I am a shade. And I will kill you."
She rose from the half crouch she found herself in, and stared into the taller man's eyes, mirrors of her own. "This day, however, we hunt."
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Eastern Equestria, born and raised... etc
Gaulish Viking metal is actually, an aphrodisiac
[[AverageJoe: Thanks for applying. Since I don't see anything related to time/spacial abilities, I assume that you took the others concerns to heart. (We like hearts around here.) Your current power set is acceptable, with one exception... the manipulation of small animals. I would not care to deal with swarms of rats, so limit it to one small creature at a time and that will be fine.
Clarifications: You mention your dead mother in the description, and RP her in the sample. I am assuming that you will describe her death in an opening post, correct? Also, the special rule to see if you read the rules... I do not know if that is your wife or not. please clarify that as well.
Pending acceptance on your clarifications.
Cloud: IF they do not post this next week, then yes, you may eat one. We will let the others share too :smile.gif: And we will take care of you for the week, never fear.::eg:: ]]
YETTO
{Alley with Ins}
"Sure. Why the hell not?" With a slight groan, the man stood himself up and brushed himself off. Finally, he offered his hand. "I'm Ins. Ins Rivella."
The tall Yetto looked down on the shorter man with his extended hand, black and green hair, goatee, scarred face and one blood red eye. Wondering if perhaps he was getting drawn into Zeke’s war whether he wanted to or not, he clasped the smaller man’s hand in his own thin fingered grip. Giving one pump, he let go and stepped back from the “hardcore” styled Harbringer.
“I will arrange for you to meet with Zeke. He is the Harbringer that will be the most helpful in developing your gifts. But he has a price, one that you may not be interested in paying. I’ll let him give you the spiel, but it is not something that you have to accept. So don’t think I am trying to force you into anything.”
Yetto looked up to the roof where he had fought the shade. “But perhaps, it would be best if you seriously consider his offer. The city is not very safe.” He smiled a grim smile, “Well, it has never been very safe, but it is getting worse. And now that you have changed, a lot of it will be gunning for you. Even if you try to avoid it, it will be coming at you.”
Pulling out a cell phone, Yetto speed dialed Zeke. As the music played ’Cat People (Putting out the Fire)’, the refrain going “Putting out the fire with Gasoline”, the tall man added, “And it will want to eat your heart.”
Yup, she's my wife, she was my character's first love.
And, by manipulate small creatures I meant a single creature, I just meant I can manipulate a single creature of any species that is smaller than a house-cat.
Good god, or maybe these days satan. This shade didn't know how to make a discrete entrance, and now walking down the ramp to the next floor just got harder since now everyone within two floors knew where they were.
"might as well make some more entrances while you're at it, and that way we won't be shot as soon as we walk down there."
Kurt turns invisible, using both hands to conceal the gun he heads towards the ramp, with the other guy making holes, they wouldn't be paying as much attention to the obvious spot.
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Time to update the ol' rpg test.The ones I get the most are Tactician, Cleric, and Paladin
((Very well, AverageJoe. Accepted. Please start posting! Remeber spelling and grammar, give details, and above all, have fun! Looking foreward to reading about Joseph!
To all. I'm working the next 3 Nights so limited responses from me. Keep the story moving tho!))
Joseph looked out of the window, to the average person, it was streets, lights and prostitutes. To Joseph it's two viruses rampaging out of control with no cure whatsoever. He was a hypochondriac, hated any form of pathogen; virus, bacteria, toxin, you name it. Every second Saturday Joseph reluctantly moped downstairs, grabbed his credit card and face mask and quickly shuffled over to the grocery store, hoping not to be noticed by any Shades, Harbringers, on the other hand were alright, as one time a Harbringer fought off a Shade as he ran for cover inside the store.
Today was that day, that second Saturday. Joe went down stairs and kissed his wife, he grabbed his mask and strapped it on tight. He slicked his credit card into his wallet and eyed the outside of the window. Nothing, even a tumbleweed would pass on the invitation to roll across lazily, there was no enthusiasm, but somewhere in the city Joe knew Shades and Harbringers were battling eachother.
He opened the door and locked it quickly, he nodded assent to his wife who was watching him, he ran and ran across the street, fearing for his life. He was within arms reach of the handle until...
WHAM! CRACK, SMASH! BOOM!
A police car, with two officers in it who were fleeing smashed into the grocery store and Joe. He had definitely broken something as an intense pain suddenly rose over him, blood rolled down the plains of his skin like rivers of red and spilled onto the ground, but Joe was tough. He crawled over to the mask and clutched at his stomach, which was convulsing with pain, his muscles began to ache and soon he couldn't crawl...he lay down and used his good arm to reach out for his mask, he grabbed and placed it on his face, he sighed with relief.
That's when he realized his wounds for the first time, he screamed at the bloodshed and looked at the officers who stumbled out of the car and yelled at the figure approaching them. It sped like a cheetah and struck them like a vicious lioness. Apparently the being didn't notice Joe lying there behind some rubble, he began to sweat profusely and passed out just before the being ate the officer's heart.
((OOC))
How's that for a first post, didn't want it too detailed as this was just an introductory post. I'll post longer for my following posts if you wish.
Constructive criticism and positive feedback is appreciated, I'm always looking for improvement!
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"You're welcome, shade who turns invisible!" Mark shouted, dripping with sarcasm and all the more ruining his plan for surprising the fighters below. Tearing off four smaller holes, each enough for two men, Mark shouted once more,"I made the holes YOU asked for, Invisible Shade!"
Jumping down one of the holes, strings surrounding his body, Mark said, "Hello. Sorry to crash in your party, but my friend got quite bored. So here we are."
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Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?
But Xuan was curious, (or she thought she would be(or maybe it was just the hunger?)) so, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the seething shadows not half the building away from her, she bought the shadow-ichor dipped limb to her malformed lips.
Her tongue snaked out, probing, almost prehensile, and took in some of the liquid shadow.
She bent double, coughing, spike-limbs digging into the floor as she threw up the contents of her immaterial gut. A sordid mixture of blood and half-chewed flesh spilled out across the ground, foetid and discoloured by gastric acids. Purple-black ichor stained one area, spreading, tainting the once-ingested flesh with it's degrading touch.
Xuan's limbs (which had become hands once more) grabbed at her stomach, crossing, fingers digging into the shadow-flesh. The foul taste of her prey's blood still hung around her mouth like the worst kind of spices, burning and cold at the same time, unbearable and still so familiar. Her mind railed against even beginning to think of devouring the man that sat across from her nursing his wound. It was just totally and utterly wrong, the taste, the texture, even the act of stripping the shade flesh had been revolting.
Her struggled hacking rent the air once more as the last vestiges of the ichor escaped her system. From her foetal crouch she recovered, eyes blazing with unfeeling hatred. She could not experience the total rage that she wanted, but she knew how it was supposed to feel, the hunter in her mind died, no longer needed.
She wanted revenge. And she would have it, or die.
Across the room she bound, spinning in the air, leg coming down, aiming for an axe kick. But her leap had been to high, she missed her target, her leg colliding with the brick behind him, snapping them in their place. She reasserted her balance and prepared to fend off the attack that she knew would come, while swiping low with her other clawed hand.
Gaulish Viking metal is actually, an aphrodisiac
{Parking Garage, with Xuan.}
Crouched on the third floor of the parking structure, Archard was prepared for a repeat attack. He wasn’t ready for the violent vomiting that the attacker suffered after tasting his blood, and so he missed the opportunity that the weakness supplied.
He was just as surprised to see the malformed creature rearrange itself into a very small woman, with short black hair which only allowed partial glimpse of her dead, white eyes. A tight, body hugging t-shirt, with only a hint of the white it used to be faintly glowing through the patina of shadow that now covered it and her baggy blue cargo pants, showed off a very nice female form. But her body language, as she recovered from her illness, was anything but nice.
He was not surprised when she attacked once again, though he noted that the reason had changed. Before, it had been as a predator in a hunt. Now it was out of anger, or something so similar as to not make a difference, and this change made a difference in her approach.
No longer the graceful beast, her attack was high and sloppy. The kick inflicted more damage to the wall that he had just cracked, as he darted to the side, literally sliding across the smooth concrete. Entering a shadow, he jumped back to his original hiding spot.
Dropping from the ceiling, even as she counter-attacked a blow that he wasn’t even there to throw, Archard landed in a graceful crouch and casually picked up his fallen sword. Raising to his feet, he ignited the electo-blade, causing a faint purple luminescence to cover the long thin blade.
Walking slowly toward the smaller shade, sword held lightly by his side, he gave a hungry grin. “What is the matter, princess? Am I not what you expected? Or perhaps I am just too much for your delicate stomach to take! Well, it doesn’t really matter now. I owe you one,” taunted Archard as he moved closer.
“And I always repay my…”
Before he could finish the cliché, Archard launched a tight, looping attack even as he sprang forward over the last dozen feet separating the two shades, intending to disembowel his attacker.
Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?
Go with this complete stranger, or continue with his boring life.
"Sure. Why the hell not." With a slight groan, the man stood himself up and brushed himself off. Finally, he offered his hand. "I'm Ins. Ins Rivella."
But her already supremely superior senses had no time for fleeing, and the fight was all that she cared about anyway. She eyed the man who had retrieved the weapon that had been sent skidding earlier, and was now advancing on her, flickering lightning sending ghostly patterns of arced electricity. He spoke, deriding her, speaking down to her. As if he were better, inherently, despite their obviously shared predicament.
Xuan had neither the time nor inclination to reply to her opponent however, as his attack swept towards her. The thunder-blade churned the air where it cut, slicing the molecules, disrupting the flow and letting it sing swift and true towards Xuan's torso.
From her crouched position Xuan spun away, the concentrated ozone burning her over-sensitive nostrils as the blade missed her by a hairs breadth. As she spun her arms lengthened and thickened, becoming club like, and extended like a horizontal windmill, creating space between her and the man.
She then thrust both arms at him, letting the forelimbs lengthen further, thinning, becoming whip-like. Her shoulders bulked in reaction to this, allowing her to wind one arm back and bring it down like a ball and chain.
"I cannot feast upon you. But I will kill you. That will satisfy my hunger."
Gaulish Viking metal is actually, an aphrodisiac
Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?
Age: 39
Race: Harbringer
Powers:
-Morphing ability (Think Animorphs, but it takes several minutes to completely morph)
-Speak to other species in their language
-Can manipulate small creatures (Like rats)
Skills:
-Solve hard question
-Fluent in different languages (German, French)
-Persuasive
-Can hack, and work with computers
Description:
Clothing
-Wears a thick plaid black shirt with little to no stains or any residue of anything really (he washes his clothes a lot) and some holes which he has sown on slightly lighter black fabric onto.
-Wears some thick grey jeans that he takes care not to rip when outside (he is also paranoid of the viruses, so he stays inside mostly)
-Often wears a hoodie with the words "Never give up" sown into it by his deceased mother, he usually has the hood up so he almost looks like a gangster
-Always wears a face-mask as he believes the virus with be swallowed into his system and he'll turn into a shade
-Wears leather boots with neatly tied bow-tie laces that he can easilly re-tie if they come undone
Physical
-Moderately Tall, around 5'7''
-Fairly slim as well at 143lb.
-Has blonde hair combed neatly to the right, no fails to comb it if even only one small tuft comes loose
-Has greenish-blue eyes that reminiscent of a swampy pool of water
-Has thin lips that can purse into an almost invisible line
-Fairly thin build, little muscle on him
-His head is actually more rounded, but still ends at his chin
-Usually has a small handlebar mustache that he shows around ( )
Inventory:
-Pocket Knife (He's a little paranoid)
-$32 in Cash
-Wallet with IDs
-Picture of his wife
Personality: Joseph is a little bit of a worrywart, he sits in his house almost everyday living off of canned goods.
His wife his slightly less paranoid but still does not exiting the house often, he is a friendly guy who will socialize easily, but indoors.
Overall he is quite the conspiracy theorist but is amicable and helpful pretty much all the time too, but can be serious and solemn at moments as well.
Biography: His parents Madeline Clutche and Johnathan Tilman were kind parents who treated Joseph with respect and honor, but did not give in to his demands and spoil him, that made his life productive and sweet. In Grade Seven he skipped to Grade Nine and graduated High School one year early. Despite his young age people in High School became friends with him and even bullies didn't threaten him with their fists or weapons or anything at all.
He was respected and took Computer Tech and learned how to hack basic security software, but didn't let the power corrupt him like other hackers that learned at an early age, when he entered University they accepted him gratefully and even payed for 25% of his tuition due to his amazing mathematical and language-based abilites, however he was a wimp and could not fight, nor draw anything creative at all. When he got a job as a Computer Engineer he designed several features seen on the average modern computer (In this roleplay) like the holo-display and the advanced voice/touch interface. He married Penelope Thurston who was his first true love and the two now reside in New York City where they fear the outside and travel cautiously.
Education (What form of education does this character have?): Joseph has a high level of education. He skipped Grade Eight, he took many courses in High School and mainly went academic. He graduated High School a year early because he skipped (He also knows computers a lot because of several courses he took during High School) He has a Ph.D in Technological Sciences and a Degree in Astronomy.
Overall Joseph is of high intelligence but lacks creativity and strength.
Strengths (What strengths does your character have?):
-Intelligent
-Sociable
-Technological Prodigy
Weaknesses (Stubbed toe is not a weakness):
-Weak
-Lack of creativity
-Paranoia
Fun Facts (Anything your character does. Do they smoke? Write that here):
None really, except that he can throw knives accurately (I don't know why, maybe because of of his calculative ability)
RP Example:Joseph was waking up from his bed, he creaked his strained neck joints (That hadn't quite adjusted to his new bed) toward the alarm clock, it read 6:54AM, Joseph sighed
"Why must I always wake up early," he said as he stretched and pulled himself out of his vegetative state. He scratches his back and slips on a pair of jeans and a nice long-sleeved shirt that envelops you like a blanket.
He walks downstairs, awaiting breakfast, sure enough his mother calls from across the room
"BREAKFAST! I made bacon and eggs, honey!" she says while she rubs her son's blonde hair, famished, Joseph snarfs the food down his gullet and drinks a glass of freshly-squeezed orange juice.
Anything I should add? (What would make this RP better?): Nothing really, I like how the creator foreshadows the origin of the two diseases, makes it that much more...mysterious
DONE! Awaiting approval...or decline :mellow.gif:
EDIT: Hey Thanatos can I eat one of the Harbringers? Pretty please?]
Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?
If I may, I suggest that you ditch the idea of those physic-y powers. The idea is nice, with his degree he would actually be able to understand and do things with those abilities, but he would be a god with them,no matter how much you tried to play it down (and having a look at your rp sample, I doubt that you would be able to do so).
I'd say give him an ability that had nothing to do with his intelligence, something a lot more physical, primal, even, something that differed with his personality to such an extreme, that he was afraid, or even pained when using.
For example, you say he doesn't like going outside? Well make him solar-powered, his physical strength and stamina increases when he's in direct sunlight or something. When not, he's debilitated, dessicated, unable to operate properly.
Anyway, nerf it, change the personality.
(Or if Thantos wants you in, ignore everything I just said)]]
Gaulish Viking metal is actually, an aphrodisiac
Even though I meant it to such a minor degree (Like a few seconds or so) not enough to dodge attacks, sure. I'll change it ._.
Clarifications: You mention your dead mother in the description, and RP her in the sample. I am assuming that you will describe her death in an opening post, correct? Also, the special rule to see if you read the rules... I do not know if that is your wife or not. please clarify that as well.
Pending acceptance on your clarifications.
Cloud: IF they do not post this next week, then yes, you may eat one. We will let the others share too :smile.gif: And we will take care of you for the week, never fear.::eg:: ]]
YETTO
{Alley with Ins}
"Sure. Why the hell not?" With a slight groan, the man stood himself up and brushed himself off. Finally, he offered his hand. "I'm Ins. Ins Rivella."
The tall Yetto looked down on the shorter man with his extended hand, black and green hair, goatee, scarred face and one blood red eye. Wondering if perhaps he was getting drawn into Zeke’s war whether he wanted to or not, he clasped the smaller man’s hand in his own thin fingered grip. Giving one pump, he let go and stepped back from the “hardcore” styled Harbringer.
“I will arrange for you to meet with Zeke. He is the Harbringer that will be the most helpful in developing your gifts. But he has a price, one that you may not be interested in paying. I’ll let him give you the spiel, but it is not something that you have to accept. So don’t think I am trying to force you into anything.”
Yetto looked up to the roof where he had fought the shade. “But perhaps, it would be best if you seriously consider his offer. The city is not very safe.” He smiled a grim smile, “Well, it has never been very safe, but it is getting worse. And now that you have changed, a lot of it will be gunning for you. Even if you try to avoid it, it will be coming at you.”
Pulling out a cell phone, Yetto speed dialed Zeke. As the music played ’Cat People (Putting out the Fire)’, the refrain going “Putting out the fire with Gasoline”, the tall man added, “And it will want to eat your heart.”
{Parking Garage, with Xuan.}
His attack was perfect. Perfect in form, perfect in aim, perfect in speed.
But it missed.
The female shade moved with such grace and speed that the blade never reached flesh, though it did part the fabric of her t-shirt, exposing a long slice of unblemished obsidian-hued abdomen. Then her defensive turn became offensive as her arms became clubs, then flails, nearly crushing him under a hammer blow.
His own dance saved his foot from being mashed to pulp, and he wove a defensive screen with the glowing blade of his sword. The multiple swirls and slices made by the tip could almost be seen as the purple haze lagged just slightly behind his movements and none of them actually touched the small shade, as they were only meant to slow her down.
"I cannot feast upon you. But I will kill you. That will satisfy my hunger." It was said with such lack of human emotion, that it became even more frightening. But he did detect something in the timbre. A hint of longing? Could she want the fight because it made her feel more… alive?
Archard held his guard ready, in the classic fencers pose, while he pondered the scene in front of him. He too acknowledged that the hunt and the fight had made him actually feel something as close to a human emotion as he had had since his death and resurrection. And it was gooood! It filled something that he had been wanting without even knowing it.
So he accepted that his own actions had been a search for feeling as well as for hearts over the past week. That was why he had been playing with his food, as it were. The feeling of terror that the meat expressed, the need to drive them to panic, all of it was another attempt by his body to feed a new hunger.
Carefully, he stood up, dropping his aggressive stance, though keeping the sword in a defensive position. He had accepted vice as a living man, but he was always in control. He had never suffered an addiction like so many of the lesser willed succumbed too. And he would not allow himself to fall victim to one now.
The woman before him, awesome in her power and primal presence, she suffered as he did. But could she be made to see what it was? Would she care? He did not think her weak willed, but she may not want to stop. And if that were so, then he would kill her.
But, if she would listen… He could use someone of her talents.
“So, princess, are you hungry? Do you long for hearts of these sheep? I understand that, appreciate it, and encourage it. But did you know that you have another hunger? Can you see it, yet? Are you longing for it right now, without even knowing it? The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of battle? Looking for some feelings? Got to have it? Will do anything for it?”
Using the sneering voice of a disgusted mentor, Archard asked, “Are you a junkie, princess?”
"Wait, what?" Mark said, confused at the the other shade's response. "Oh no you don't. Don't you dare ruin my show!"
That said, Mark gave chase after the other shade. "Or you know what, dare to ruin my show. I'd say we crash in at the party."
Mark summoned his strings once more, and piercing through the concrete and wrapping around them. With a swift tug, the concrete gave way, and a hole to the 4th floor was opened. Landing on the 4th floor, Mark called, "You coming or not?"
Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?
(Had she cared, or been capable of it, she would have pitied those who dared to distract her attention away from this man.)
She took the brief lull in movement to inspect him more thoroughly. Before now he had just been the silhouette of a man, barely registering in any meaningful way save for the fluidity of his movements, the lack of obvious pain, the intelligent eyes.
Now his face came into stark definition as the hunter and fighter sized up her opponent. Short, but not as short as she, and very well built, even beneath the rippling shadows she could see obvious definition, (the skin-tight suit he was wearing didn't hinder it much either).
His face was cold and impassive, perfectly controlled and capable. It was in the brief second that their seeking eyes met, and Xuan knew this man would not fall to her blades or limbs, nor to anything else she could warp herself into. This was a man who knew how to move and how to manipulate.
She so dearly wanted to kill him.
He moved, and Xuan twitched forward, limbs shaking as she tried to figure a way around this complex warrior, but he made no aggressive action. He simply stood, and began to speak.
"So, princess, are you hungry? Do you long for hearts of these sheep? I understand that, appreciate it, and encourage it. But did you know that you have another hunger? Can you see it, yet? Are you longing for it right now, without even knowing it? The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of battle? Looking for some feelings? Got to have it? Will do anything for it? Are you a junkie, princess?”
Xuan listened quietly. Noises came from above, muffled by the thick slabs between the floors. Her lips parted, and rolled backwards, curling up and dripping shade-flesh that splattered to the floor for just long enough to eat at the concrete before dissipating into the air. This man spoke well, spoke with power. He knew of the flesh-hunger and the bloodthirst. He knew what she was and what he was. He understood and was willing to question that existence that they shared.
Something she hadn't done since she'd taken her first heart.
Xuan trembled then, the reality of her actions crashing down on her. It wasn't an emotional tumult, but one of realisation, sudden understanding, an epiphany, if you will. Her hunger had driven her to the very breach of primal, unrelenting force, and she'd willingly leapt forward. She'd taken her situation at face value, unseeing after the devouring of her first blood-pump. Everything had become about the hunt, the game, the joy that she knew she could feel if she tried just one more, another, the last one, in search of those beautiful hearts.
That would never. Happen. Again.
The lower half of her face became solid once more, as she reasserted control. His words were strong, and held great power. She could do the same.
"I am in control. You are in control. We seek the same thing. I am no 'junkie'. I am Xuan Zu, I am Chinese. I am a shade. And I will kill you."
She rose from the half crouch she found herself in, and stared into the taller man's eyes, mirrors of her own. "This day, however, we hunt."
Gaulish Viking metal is actually, an aphrodisiac
Yup, she's my wife, she was my character's first love.
And, by manipulate small creatures I meant a single creature, I just meant I can manipulate a single creature of any species that is smaller than a house-cat.
"might as well make some more entrances while you're at it, and that way we won't be shot as soon as we walk down there."
Kurt turns invisible, using both hands to conceal the gun he heads towards the ramp, with the other guy making holes, they wouldn't be paying as much attention to the obvious spot.
To all. I'm working the next 3 Nights so limited responses from me. Keep the story moving tho!))
Joseph looked out of the window, to the average person, it was streets, lights and prostitutes. To Joseph it's two viruses rampaging out of control with no cure whatsoever. He was a hypochondriac, hated any form of pathogen; virus, bacteria, toxin, you name it. Every second Saturday Joseph reluctantly moped downstairs, grabbed his credit card and face mask and quickly shuffled over to the grocery store, hoping not to be noticed by any Shades, Harbringers, on the other hand were alright, as one time a Harbringer fought off a Shade as he ran for cover inside the store.
Today was that day, that second Saturday. Joe went down stairs and kissed his wife, he grabbed his mask and strapped it on tight. He slicked his credit card into his wallet and eyed the outside of the window. Nothing, even a tumbleweed would pass on the invitation to roll across lazily, there was no enthusiasm, but somewhere in the city Joe knew Shades and Harbringers were battling eachother.
He opened the door and locked it quickly, he nodded assent to his wife who was watching him, he ran and ran across the street, fearing for his life. He was within arms reach of the handle until...
WHAM! CRACK, SMASH! BOOM!
A police car, with two officers in it who were fleeing smashed into the grocery store and Joe. He had definitely broken something as an intense pain suddenly rose over him, blood rolled down the plains of his skin like rivers of red and spilled onto the ground, but Joe was tough. He crawled over to the mask and clutched at his stomach, which was convulsing with pain, his muscles began to ache and soon he couldn't crawl...he lay down and used his good arm to reach out for his mask, he grabbed and placed it on his face, he sighed with relief.
That's when he realized his wounds for the first time, he screamed at the bloodshed and looked at the officers who stumbled out of the car and yelled at the figure approaching them. It sped like a cheetah and struck them like a vicious lioness. Apparently the being didn't notice Joe lying there behind some rubble, he began to sweat profusely and passed out just before the being ate the officer's heart.
((OOC))
How's that for a first post, didn't want it too detailed as this was just an introductory post. I'll post longer for my following posts if you wish.
Constructive criticism and positive feedback is appreciated, I'm always looking for improvement!
Jumping down one of the holes, strings surrounding his body, Mark said, "Hello. Sorry to crash in your party, but my friend got quite bored. So here we are."
Sometimes I wonder if it's all too easy.
Lying, cheating, stealing your way to victory.
Though just how far would you fall for a dream?