[b][i]I Promise This Isn’t What It Looks Like[/i][/b] [i]Even for the Dojo, the sight was rather amusing, and perhaps a bit offputting. The woman had nearly ten plasma rifles slung across her back, pistols stuffed into her bandoliers and pockets. She looked to be almost overencumbered with all of the weaponry, but she did not complain as she headed out. Her companion followed her, also looking to be just a little bit weighed down. The teenager’s backpack bristled with explosives, and a grenade launcher was slung across his back. He carried two general-purpose machine guns and belts of ammunition. Even in his exo, he was carrying a lot of firepower, which he found ironic considering that he wasn’t fond of guns, or at least not using them on people. The two had very little concern about traipsing across the plaza with the arsenal that did not belong to them. Wilson would be satisfied. He now had another hunk of his arsenal in Amoridia.[/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

[b]You wake up. It’s cold. It’s wet. The liquid you lay in is thick, very viscous. The liquid you lay in is gray. It smells fruity, like you lay in a syrup. Everything is black and white. You look to our left, and there is a white wall. You look to your right. You see a mirror, and a door. You cannot see yourself in the mirror. You wipe off your eyes, wiping the liquid to the sides of your face. You look down, you lay in a tub. You slowly stand up, falling down flat on your face as you attempt to leave the tub. A wave of fear hits you as you make contact with the ground. You don’t know who you are. You are scared. You didn’t know where you were. You didn’t know what was going on. You try to stand up again, catching yourself on the tub. You stand, and move to the mirror. And you remember. You remember one, single thing. Your name.[/b] [spoiler]This is an event. You will not die, but injury is very possible, and should be expected. You have none of your gear or abilities. If a part of your body is non-organic, then it is replaced with human parts. Even if you are not a human. If you have an ability or armor built-in your body, you have been stripped of it. Begin with stating your character and your character’s appearance. Only state their first name.[/spoiler]

[b]Just sparring..[/b] [u]Time: noonish Location: Training yard[/u] [i] Aiyanna sat on the outskirts laying there with her head on her paws watching the scene unfold in front of her with her bright red eyes. As talath wearing black shorts and no t-shirt as he jumped backwards avoiding a kick from the woman he was currently sparring against. She was surprisingly fast for her light athletic build of her's. She had purplish grey skin, eletric blue hair pulled into a long braid as her fuchsia colored eyes track his every move. She was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue sweatpants. Talath looked like he was getting the upper hand until he had slipped up allowing her to grab and throw him with such ease it was almost comical as flipped him out his back. She had pulled him into a hold putting one of his arms behind his back. To anyone that would see this it was clearly one sided as hell. It left talath feeling like he greatly underestimated her as he tries to break free as she uses her weight to hold him down. She could be heard laughing a little bit feeling him trying to break free.[/i] [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[b]I can’t be bothered to think of a quote about lightning that suits this.[/b] [b][u]Dojoville 1900 hours.[/u][/b] A storm had come in. Not a particularly bad one. The wind was there to be sure, but it wasn’t a wild or wicked thing, just the steady stride of the thundercloud as it passed by. The rain wasn’t so bad either, just coming down, not to warm, not to hot, and not at all bloody or froggy, so diabolical or divine shenanigans weren’t in the cards. Not today at the very least. What there was a lot of? Thunder and Lightning (very very frightening). Mama Mia mama mia Zeus was really letting it go. Racing electric trees sprouted in an instant then fell to earth, as though some lumberjack god had cut it down in one swipe, smashing into rooftop lightning rods with a boom like the base drum in a titan’s indie metal band. Here again a cruel angel lashed her scourge against the heavens, only for to the many cruel tons to come together. Arcing downwards, the plasma highway leapt to the gates of the Dojo. For a blinding moment, it rested there, as a woman stepped out. Then the door to the heavens slammed shut behind her and vanished. The woman, tall and muscular without being heavily built, with blond hair, fair skin, and electric blue eyes with a strange vertical pupil shifted slightly in her white shirt and blue jeans, resettling the greatsword on her back. The sword was a lovely thing, a palm hilt wrapped in sealskin, with a sapphire pommel and a long blade the color of a cresting wave when it is nearest the sky, sharp as the Baltic is cold and the pacific is deep. The woman smiled as she looked out on the Dojo through those odd eyes of hers, and stepped through the gate.

[spoiler]not sure if I have to write in strange outer dimensions in landscape or something so if you want, just give me a heads up. Thanks.[/spoiler] [spoiler]Also planning on doing little trial style events with this being the first. Probably like 4 or 5 with each trial having loot related to the trial. Wouldn't call it a plot since its just going to be like a fight or puzzle I come up with one or two every week or two.[/spoiler] [u]The Other. Ring world one: Trail of the brutes[/u] A very few realized something. It has been days since Gerald went on his curious expedition and not a person has seen him since. There was mention he planned to hike to the southern half of the mountains not so far from the dojo. A five mile trek at best. Within that point there was a strange hole in the rockside that seemed to open to a whole other world. From high above it there was something very peculiar about this new world. It came in rings. Rings seeming to belong to different eras of time seemingly growing more and more advance the closer one looked to the center. The path seemed to only lead to the outer rim leaving any who traveled this ringed world to start in the most primitive of rings. Once in the ring, strange giant creatures adorn in only loincloth stood watch. The looked like man yet something was odd. They were massive and some held odd features such as tentacles on their back and a skin tone that bared reseblence to stone. [spoiler]Open. Fight them, try to outwit them. They are pretty much caveman giants just for a perspective on what your dealing with.[/spoiler]

[quote]How does the strongest man in the world, make up the extra cash he spent on that stupid thing his wife told him not to buy? By using his talents. [/quote] [u]Dojo 3pm VR room. [/u] [b]The room itself was quite large, white with blue, rigid electronic veins running up and around its sides. There were large blocks of similar material to act as cover dispersed throughout, somewhat tightly packed. While there was cover, one would have to sprint between to avoid getting shot, rather than it being a condensed maze of blocks. A large pole stood in the middle with a similar outside skin to the VR room, and atop, sat a large [url=https://fireemblem.gamepress.gg/sites/fireemblem/files/styles/300h/public/2017-11/Dorcas.png?itok=Ic6-cUSp]Man[/url] in a criss cross apple sauce position. He wore no armor, but silver forearm guards, rather ornate compared to his down to earth look. At his side was a large, double bladed axe. It's handle was short, but not long enough to be two handed for long periods of time- perhaps for a more powerful attack. The blades were sharp, and somewhat thick, suggesting the flat end could be used as a blunt weapon. A large sign, with holographic visuals blinked above him, and rotated around above his head. "Fight Agent Strong Man for money, gain knowledge." It was a gamble, but being here for the past weeks, the man knew someone would come along. [/b] [spoiler]Open! Some groundo ruleso: This would be my: 2nd-3rd RP fight, be patient and respect that fact. I'll allow just about anything, but I will decide if the man is simply outmatched and surrender. God modes I may let slide once, especially if one does it by accident, I expect you to do the same. Hopefully that gets things laid down, and so- give me money! [/spoiler]

[Deleted]

[b]Ollimand, Midnight[/b] [i]She was like a fly on the wall, slipping in and out of buildings in the Tribune as if she wasn't even there, or rather, like she was almost invisible. Khalosh may have been abandoned once, although the actions of the Tribune had led a couple of scouts there, due to it being the former capital of the continent. The reason for their presence on Tatakai at all however, that was what Natalie came to figure out. She crept through the hallway in the third floor of an old apartment building, slipping past the guards with her staff in tow until she laid eyes on it - A campsite, and a few soldiers in the park across the street. She couldn't just outright approach the campsite right now - There was at least ten of them, the patrolling scouts, and potentially a wave of reinforcements. Then she thought about the reinforcements, and an idea opposed into her head; If she could find somebody in their army of her size and stature, then she could slip on the clothing and get unfettered access to the campsite. So she decided to pull away from the windowsill and make her way down the hall. It took a couple of minutes for her to find a guard, but thankfully he had his back turned to Natalie, which gave her a free moment to wrap her arm around his neck and put her hand over his mouth. He was unconscious, but Nat took a strip of duct tape from a nearby apartment that she dragged him into and restrained him. Mouth and all. He wasn't her size, but he was close enough at just one size over - She figured that putting the uniform on over her sweatshirt and jogging pants would make her thick enough to look like the soldier. It took her a second to slip the outfit on, but with the addition of a Tribune foot soldier helmet, she could blend in well enough. She took her staff and activated it's sword function, slipping it into her belt right before she picked up the soldier’s rifle. Thirty rounds, M4 Carbine with a reflex and a Beretta M9 sidearm to go with it. She put the pistol in the holster for her belt and continued on through the halls, avoiding other patrols as she left the building. Nat left the stuffy, dark building and entered the open, being greeted by the cool midnight air. Something inside of her wanted to just sit and stare at the stars, but she knew that if she didn't complete this mission, then she wouldn't be able to do it safely from Dojoville. Even if Isabella didn't tell her why this mission was so important, or even why she was going against the Tribune, Nat knew that she could find out what she was after by coming here. Answers were key, she thought, and she was going to get them tonight. She entered the campsite and went through a tent of sleeping soldiers. There were at the very least a good twenty men inside it, most asleep with a few casually whispering to one another. These people didn't look like killers, so Nat kept her head down and went through the tent quickly, heading towards a second much smaller one. She figured it was the room of whoever was in charge of this campsite, and the best way to get answers was to take it from those on the top of the chain of command. She guessed right on what the tent was, which was clear when she poked her head into a dimly lit study. The officer in charge was asleep on his bed, not too far away from his desk, which housed several paper stacks and a couple of bullets, rolling out of a half empty magazine. She slowly crept through the tent and made her way to the desk, which had a flickering candlelight atop it. The shadow of Nat was cast across the captain in his bed, who quickly awoke. Nat grabbed the papers and shoved them into a satchel, although she would soon find herself feeling the cold metal of a dagger resting across her throat, pressing into her pale skin slightly as she froze up. “Who are you, intruder?” He quizzically asked Natalie, his voice just loud enough for her to hear the anger in his voice. It sent a chill down her spine. “I'm with the Tribune, sir. Here to deliver reinforcement papers and relieve you of command.” “You aren't supposed to be taking papers though, are you?” The captain asked, staring at the satchel full of papers in Nat’s hand. “Captain Ingrid Harvey requested I take the troop movement forms and information on those stationed in the outpost, sire.” Nat was starting to falter in her voice, although the captain knew that the knife was making it happen. He knew wrong, but he did honestly believe there was some truth to her words. After all, how would she have been let in here? Regardless of whatever small feelings he may have had, he still didn't trust Nat quite yet. “Alright, and how far back are the reinforcements? What's your name, soldier?” “Natalie Ellidran, sir. The soldiers are four miles east now, they sent me ahead to grab the papers for captain Harvey so she can designate her men to assist in the patrols and relieve the current units of their positions for the night.” “This sounds sketchy,” the captain admitted, lowering the knife in his hand. He brought the weapon down to his side, but he kept it in his hand. “turn around, Ellidran.” Nat spun around quickly and faces the captain, who had a look of distaste on his aged face. She took a look at him then - He had short gray hair, cut into a crew cut atop his head, with a few cuts on his weathered cheeks, sparse and scattered against the five o'clock shadow that he scratched. It was then that he sympathized with him. She could see the dull, emotionless eyes of a captain, one who had seen too much in his time. “Go on, get out of here. Tell Captain Harvey that I'm counting on her to bring good news.” “Yes sir, I'll be off at once.” “No, head to the mess tent and grab a meal. You look like you've been starved, soldier.” It looked like the disguise didn't work after all, Nat thought to herself. She was naturally a thinner woman, but it scored her a free meal. She turned without a word and grabbed some rations from the mess hall, putting the tray of food in her satchel after wrapping it in saran wrap she found in one of the apartments nearby. [/i] --------------------------------------------------- [b]Trayven Camp, 5:00, six days later[/b] [i]Nat finally arrived at the camp again. She had spent time reading over the documents that the captain had provided to her, mulling over each typed paragraph with a heart full of dread. It mostly was just troop movements and things of that caliber, though she did come across a few notes in particular that mentioned the “Horrible atrocities" committed by the former Trayven leaders. It wasn't the atrocities that got Nat, rather it was the fact that Isabella wouldn't tell her a damn thing about the cause she was fighting for. Even if she rationalized it with some sort of skewed outlook on life it would have been fine, but… Well, Nat wanted answers. And she waited in her personal tent for Isabella to arrive.[/i] ((Open. Primarily for Orn, although anybody can reply.))

[spoiler]Open to JT. Yes, awful post, rushed rn.[/spoiler] [i]Thunk.[/i] "Isabella." [i]The trident slammed directly into the straw dummy's thin chest, the three points ripping through the base of the dummy. Freya would sigh a little, nodding at the strike. She.. needed some time as a break. To say the very least.[/i]

https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/238790289/0/0/1 [b][i]FUСKING. BET.[/i][/b] [b][i]TRIAL BY COMBAT. VICTORIA VS AERON. TO. THE. DEATH.[/i][/b] [b][i][u]LET'S FUСKING ROLL.[/u][/i][/b]

[i][u]The Celtic Isle Foundation Tournament![/u][/i] Everyone in the dojo had been on edge as of late. With dojoville in the process of being rebuilt by a possible enemy, the sheer amount of warriors who had died within the last year, and the oncoming winter, it made life very uneasy. However, the warriors of the dojo were now give another thing to dread. Wait...oh no that’s just the author. Scratch that. The warriors of the dojo had received an invite for a massive event. It was none other then a tournament. One that would test their skill, brute force and overall intelligence. The letter had come from the Celtic isles, a Viking like set of islands that was ravaged by the undead in the Coldbourne Conquest. The letter read; [i]”To those who revive this letter. Hello you bloodthirsty animals! It is I, Jarl Haakon of the United Celtic isles! This late November, we are hosting a tournament to find which one of you is the most ruthless warrior of them all! All proceeds will go towards rebuilding efforts for the isle of Ragnarok, then towards relief efforts for the other isles as well. A ship will arrive off the cost of the ollimund on November 25th, and the tournament shall start shortly after. Please, come and show your prowess over you comrades! ~Jarl Haakon[/i] [spoiler]Eh folks! Post here if you want to be in the third dojo tourney! Sign ups close on November 24th! Make sure you can actually participate in the tourney before you sign up though, as it could be two weeks to four. You don’t have to say which character you are bringing till the 25th, as more details will be coming up on the 24th.[/spoiler]

[spoiler]Open! Meet Cammy.[/spoiler][i]Awaken. Why art thou silent? Why dost thou sleep? Awaken, Sturmheilige. Our God waits no longer.[/i] Camilla woke with a start, her head swiveling left to right, up and down; where was the voice? Where was it? She had to find it. She pushed herself off the dirt ground she had been lying upon in a blind frenzy. Her surroundings were a blur; all she could see was red. Where was the voice? The saint stumbled around confusedly. At one point, she crashed into a wall; she staggered backwards, and in her disconcerted state of being, she would trip over her heels and fall on her back. But the impact didn’t do anything to clarify her senses. No, it was her reflection that appeared when she pushed herself off the ground for the second time in a couple of minutes; the sight of her deranged self in a shallow puddle of water. Messy, shoulder-length dirty blonde hair that hung at the sides of her round face, untamed and wild. A fair skin tone, with small splotches of freckles on her cheekbones and the tip of her small, perky nose. Her thin lips were slightly parted; she was unconsciously breathing quite heavily. Perspiration had formulated on Camilla’s forehead, and it wasn’t from physical exertion. Camilla’s eyes cleared, and her senses returned. She lifted her head and forced herself up, taking a good look at where she was; trying to recall what she’d been doing before she dozed. It was evening. The sun was slowly drifting beyond the horizon, and the sky was painted in dozens of different warm colors. The few, large, isolated clouds that drifted through the heavens were the canvases for the sun’s artistic medium; they were conglomerations of fiery light, inhumanly beautiful. The saint had crashed into the ruins of an old church in Dojoville, one of the many buildings that recently been burned to the ground. The walls were black and charred, with dilapidated, wooden beams collapsed into what was once the church’s interior. It was only made darker and deader by the glorious sunset. As Camilla gazed around the church, her eyes widened. What had attracted her to such a place? Was it coincidental? Either way, there were many conflicting emotions that warred for control over Camilla. Memories came flooding back–no, no. She had to get out of there. Without a second thought, Camilla sprinted out of the church, into the empty streets of Dojoville. Now, she asked herself the million dollar question; what on Earth was she doing here? Oh, right. She had come to the Dojo with her group. Her companions, her friends; where were they? “Hello? Anybody out there?” She called out. Her voice seemed drained of her usual energy as it echoed through the town’s the ruins. Perhaps the calling of a lonesome crow would not be the only response she’d receive.

[b]Beauty is in the eye of the beholder[/b] [u][b]Dojoville Outskirts, 1800 hours[/b][/u] Why was that stupid quote running through her pounding head? Divia, was that her name? Yes, that was the name she had been given, but was it hers? Probably. Wondered as she pulled herself to her feet. Her left arm hurt and was swollen, probably broken, but her right arm was okay. Her pants and shirt were damaged, with scabs forming over the torn skin beneath. Her legs still worked, she needed to move away from the steep granite cliff face looming over her. Left, right, left, right. Don’t let yourself sway too much or you’ll fall and might hurt that arm even more. She found a cold, murky pool, and saw herself in it. Her hair was two colors. On the right it was a blondish-gold, what parts of it weren’t matted with blood, and the left was an inky black. Her eyes, blue on the left and brown oh the right seemed almost mismatched to her, though that might have just been because of the reddish-Brown stain tracing its way down from her hairline into her eyebrow, then spreading out like a river delta tracking downwards to her eye. It drew her eye to the red pocket on her black sweatshirt. [b]The old stories used to talk a lot about how really strength comes from the heart. It’s mostly all junk, but maybe heart is what ties in to the ability to keep going.[/b] More of those strange ramblings, like introductions to a lecture. Out of instinct, she closed her eyes and focused on that red pocket. No, on the strange glyph written onto the skin underneath. The warm red glow covered her. In her minds eye she examined herself. The wound on her head was the most serious. She looked at it, and maneuvered the tendrils of healing magic to slide the slender shards of skull back where they belonged, and carefully restitched the torn skin and ruined blood vessels. The scrapes along her arms and legs were easier. The epithelial tissue was made for this sort of thing, and the lovely little layers of pink fresh skin grew easily. Last the arm. It was a cleaner break, the sort of fracture you get when you throw your arms out to catch yourself from a fall. The bone set, and the little seam sealed over then chiseled away, good as new, in less than a minute. Divia opened her eyes and cupped her hands into the waters, noticing another pair of glyphs on her left palm and the back of her right hand. Interesting. She drew the cold, clean water up and washed away the bloodstains from above her eye and along her limbs. Then, without too much thought for it, dunked her head underwater to furiously scrub the blood out of her hair. Was it a bit vain? Probably. But bloodstained young women tended to attract attention, and she held the sneaking suspicion that that might not be the wisest thing to do. And so, when she heard footsteps as she sat by the waters and wrung out her hair, she tensed and dashed upwards, landing in the branches of a nearby tree, hand on one of her knives, peering out to see. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

"Trade is essential to an empire." [b]Dojo, Outer System. =====================[/b] Months now nothing had been sent, and nothing received. The Dojo had also gone quiet, and that was more than enough reason to investigate. Odin may be a resource rich planet, but some things where not there, and trade was needed with other planets. So when one of the major sources of trade goes quiet, you don't just ignore it. The ship flew through the massive Heimdall gate, a literal controlled hole in space time, instant travel, a marvel of scientific engineering. The decently sized craft was a gunship, gun-metal gray and carried five peoples. Each of them not normal, super soldiers, their bodies altered through blasphemous rituals of medical and biological engineering. Valkyries where meant to be the best in what they do, and they did a damn fine job of it. Among them stood Amanda Frye, the other three being part of her personal fire team, the other last one being an extra, just in case. Piloting the craft, it soon broke atmosphere, darting to the planet. A radio scatter system active, a cloak flicking on as well, masking them both physically and figuratively. With the Dojo silent, they needed to not be seen. Once they broke cloud surface though, they realised the problem; the sight of the Dojo, mostly in ashes and ruin, and the massive dome that extended above in a section of the city. That's why it went quiet. Someone actually took down the Dojo. Amanda scoffed, as behind from the cockpit, Connor spoke, in awe at the sight, his helmet off. "Damn, that thing is massive. Who the hell could have even done this? Hundreds have tried, last I checked never succeeded." Amanda yelled back then, equally confused. "Don't know, but whoever it is I'm making sure they leave with a broken jaw!" She growled, angling the craft down to land inside the Dojo, opposite of the massive energy dome. Giving the green light, the four in the back each prepped their armor and weapons. Powered armor and strong weapons to match it all, the might of a Valkyrie was unmatched. A few minutes later, geese scattered as Amanda touched the wheels of the craft down at a secluded spot near a small forest, the craft remaining cloaked for now, as the five made sure it wouldn't be found, and then turned their attention towards the city. [spoiler]Open, get creative, make scenarios for it all You have a whole city to do it, after all Orn, you know what to do[/spoiler]

[b][u]Memoriam[/u][/b] [u]The Dojo Mountain, 4:11 PM[/u] [spoiler]Open to all.[/spoiler] [i]Memory.[/i] [i]I thought about it. I looked back upon it. It had been a while, hadn't it?[/i] [i]It began with Civis. "Born and raised" a Civis girl, I guess - by that, bred into a war machine by idiots. That's when I met.. family. Raid.. hell, Andrew, taking me in. Alpha.. no, Alexandria, saving me from myself. And.. fuсking hell, this is ironic, I can't even recall his name.. Locust, whom I guess to be my uncle.[/i] [i]Lived with the Raidriars for a while. I helped Addy, Marcia.. whatever you'd call her. Mom, I guess. I dealt with Maria being the true child. But the best was becoming the heir to Death's title, easily. Guess I.. suited the job. People've handled it for me, when I'm off hanging around and making an actual impact.[/i] [i]Impact. Simple way of putting it.[/i] [i]Alex, Lucien, Sam. Alex, Lucien, Sam. My lover, my mentor, my friend.. I guess Sam could be a friend, he said that we were. They, alongside Andrew, had influenced my life, had changed me into.. memory. Alexandria wanted me to remember her as the girl who loved her family, after her disappearance.. Lucien and Samuel, I presume, wanted me to be a second coming of justice for the power-hungry and the "almighty" idiots that would threaten humanity with their godly powers. And Andrew.. Dad.. he'd want me to remember being wise with my powers. With great power come great responsibility, after all.[/i] [i]...I guess I have been wise. I hope so.[/i] ---------------------------------- [b][i]BAM![/i][/b] [i]The clone of biomass' body would snap back with incredible force, as the makeshift Pandora's backbone would shatter with a sudden crack. The training fighter would flail limp against the earth, dissembling itself slowly.[/i] [i]Pandora would sit down on a bench, her arm shifting back from it's previous, weaponized form. Her right arm, down from her elbow, was a jagged black shape, forming what appeared to have been a club. It was lined with edged spikes like a mace would be, to both dig into the skin and clash against bone and armoring.[/i] [i]Pandora was "nudе", save for the light "suit" of armoring of which tightly made up her body. Down from where her neck met her head, her body was tightly compacted within a layer of an ashy black substance, solidified into a bony form. It glinted with a smooth edge, as if there was more underneath the plates than met the eyes. Pandora had taken to a thin form, not exceptionally curvy nor busty, albeit she was packing a slight amount of femininity in her current being. Nothing that would get in the way, of course.[/i] [i]Though her face was.. the exception, to the armor. Pandora had taken to a subtly cute look, one of which her closer friends would recognize her for. Her face was a light, sharpened thing, not so angular to an edge but enough to look feminine and pure. High, smooth cheekbones were kept high on her face, her light pale face being smoothened and lightly freckled, a perky, small nose protruding from the center of her face. Her light red eyes were now a curious emerald green color, as if she was in deep thought, and as colorful as the gem itself. She would keep her hair the same though, except for it's previous light cyan color, as it had now shifted back to it's seemingly natural bob-styled light brown.[/i] [i]In her free time, Pandora would begin to silently read on her own. She had trained for quite a bit.. and she was alone. Perhaps someone would arrive, to chat or fight.. probably try to kill her, but hey, it would be exciting.[/i]

https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/238589065/0/0/1 [b][i]The Trees Have Eyes...[/i][/b] [b][i]Afternoon, Dojo Forest[/i][/b] [b][i]The sound of a rifle going off was heard, as a deer in the woods fell dead. Three hunters walked over to it, one smoking a cigar as he did. He looked at his kill, laughing a bit as there was a hole straight through the eye.[/i][/b] Smoker: "Dead shot perfect, as always." [b][i]He said bragging to his friends[/i][/b] Hunter #1: "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Cmon, grab the antlers so we can continue." [b][i]He said, as the third hunter, easily the youngest of the bunch of males, cut off the antlers and put them in a bag. The smoker stood up, as the three walked off, leaving the kill there. But they should've known the saying "The trees have inquisitive eyes"[/i][/b] [b][i]The sun was beginning to set as they moved, not yet using flashlights to guide their way. As they walked, they chatted about other kills, the price antlers would fetch, as they came across a small sapling. The smoker laughed, coughing a bit as he walked over to it, crouching down.[/i][/b] Smoker: "Hey, watch this." [b][i]He said, putting his cigar to the tree as it began to catch alight. Soon, the tree was burning and became nothing more than charcoal. The three laughed, as the began to walk once more. But they stopped, a presence washing over them. They should've remembered the saying "The trees have inquisitive eyes"[/i][/b] [b][i]Vines snaked across the ground towards them, moving along the highest branches of trees as well, as the theee stopped, looking around. The smoker reached for his rifle, but vines pinned it to the ground. They were lifted by their legs by vines, being dangled from a tree as a figure approached. It's form was like a woman, though made of wood and vine, claws for hands. It spoke to them, its voice raspy and feminine.[/i][/b] Dryad: "You should not disrespect nature. It could have quite dire consequences." [i][b]It said as it moved around them, inspecting them. One went to speak, but the Dryad let out a growl to silence him. As another reached for its pistol, it noticed it was snatched, What looked like some naturally made satyr having snatched their weapons. The Dryad spoke to the three again.[/b][/i] Dryad: "Those who have done nothing wrong but witness these crimes here today, by happy Gaia is a forgiving Mother. She shall spare you torment..." [b][i]The vines released them, dropping them to the ground as they took off running.[/i][/b] Dryad: "As for you..." [b][i]She said looking to the final one.[/i][/b] "Gaia demands life given for life taken." [b][i]He was dropped from the tree, only to have his neck ensnared by a vine. It constructed around him, crushing his neck as he now dangle their from the tree. He would be a warning to others.[/i][/b] [b][i]To outsiders of the situation, the Dryad would look to be in her true form. It was a human female, her skin the colour of redwood, her black hair in short dreadlocks, tied back into a somewhat ponytail behind her head. A mask covered her face as her body appeared to be free of tattoos. Her upper chest was only covered by a wrap of leather, covering her breasts fully and a bit above the gut, a band around her left arm with three small bones on it. Her lower half were covered by woven pants, stopping about midway on the calf to reveal the coverings on the lower leg made of leather and wrapped with dark brown linen to stay on. They came under the sole of her bare feet like a stirrup would. The same kind of covering could be seen on her hands, as she wore claw like gloves. Two spikes sat on her hips as her weapons, with a bow on her back. She turned after giving punishment, not sure where she was.[/i][/b] [spoiler]open. Meet Daun, the Shaman.[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]Deserters[/u][/i][/b] [u][b]North Eastern Ollimand[/b][/u] [i]A trio of knights rode into the beginnings of the lush lands that wre Ollimand. At the head, was a middle aged woman with intricate black Armour and a flowing red cloak. [/i] [i][url=http://www.example.com]The woman had sharp features to her face, a sharp well defined chin and jawline with a sharp nose. Short brown hair flowed down to her shoulders and no further, as if afraid to ruin the aesthetic of her cloak[/url][/i] [i]Intricate lines were etched into her black Armour, and a very well crafted sword was sheathed at her hip.[/i] [i]The other two knights that rode behind her were similarly armoured, blackened steel with intricate lines. The cloaks were the only thing missing, and they had strong well designed helmets over their heads, covering their faces. [/i] "Elizabeth, we should rest. We're out of the desert." [i]The man toward her right, a knight by the name of Alexander, commented quietly as they rode into the trees, finding themselves on a beaten dirt path. [/i] "Alexander, if you were to desert a people that once looked to you as a savior, when would you rest?" [i]Elizabeth asked cooly, slowing her house down slightly so that she and him were side by side. [/i] "Only after I was certain that no one was pursuing, my lady. [i]Alexander quickly responded, nodding his head as he thought it through. [/i] "And are you certain that we are not being followed?" [i]Alexander stooped his head low, shaking his head and sighing lightly. Elizabeth didn't notice, instead saying, [/i]"Speak up now. No need to be nervous." "No, my lady, I am not certain we are not being followed." "Precisely... But, is it the wise thing to do?" [i]Elizabeth now gestured over to the horizon, where the sun had begun setting. A cold breeze blew past the group, causing Alexander to shiver slightly. [/i] "No, my -" "It is wise, Alexander. The night is dark, and full of terrors. Especially across the borders of Ollimand and Gelidius. We should find a cave, or set up a fire. A perimeter should do nicely, Gregor you have first watch." [i]Elizabeth rode her horse into a thicker expanse of trees, climbing off along with the knights. They spread out, setting up a camp.[/i] -------------------------- [i]Alric, The Bloody Witcher, Representative of the Dojo, and commander of a few dozen knights within its walls, paced around the courtyard in a stressed manner. [/i] [i]He was dressed in his usual light leather jacket a bad choice for the cold weather that had begun to set it. His hair messy and unkempt, with white blotches running through the otherwise black colour it was.[/i] [i]Ornaments decorated the jacket along the shoulder, neck area, hips, and several other points along his Armour. The center of his chest was exposed to reveal a Cat Head medallion in the center, attached to a necklace that went around his neck. The man wasn't tall in any regard, standing at 5 feet and seven inches, with golden cat like eyes and a curved blade sheathed at his hip. A second much straighter blade sat upon his back, just over his left shoulder.[/i] "You're certain?" [i]He asked, glancing over at the younger gentleman that stood still with his hands clasped behind his back. The man wore a leather armour, made for speed rather then protection. He must have been a scout, or something of the sort. [/i] "Yes sir. Elizabeth, Gregor and Alexander have abandoned the dojo. They were seen heading south, most likely to escape their duties." [i]Alric caused at the news, taking a seat beneath the cherry blossom tree and dismissing the man. [/i] [spoiler]Open! Talk to Alric for a contract if you want. Or, kill the knights and take their loot. Or kill the knights, then tell Alric. Your choice! [/spoiler]

[b]A Stranger I Remain.[/b] [i]A drizzle of rain had started to make it's way into the dojo, the torches still ablaze even in contact with the water. The statue of the mythical bird, a Phoenix had cobalt blue water spouting out of it. It was a pretty sight nonetheless, even with the grey tone of the day. Samuel of course was sitting underneath a small pavilion on a chair, watching the statue intently as if it were about to come alive. It was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place an identity to it. Samuel was in his ever so familiar crimson red greatcoat which stook out like a sore thumb. He diverted his attention to the PDA in his hands as he browsed a file of a young man. Eddie Tobias. This was an interesting one, he recently got into a scuffle with some sort of telekinetic or metalbender. But what really got his interest was the fact that he was from New Haven, an Amoridian. The rain thumped louder on the pavilion as it grew more intense, Samuel looked more into the situation. There wasn't much to go by, except a man's report who presumably got robbed by said anomaly. A wannabe vigilante it seemed. He was skilled, but it was obvious to Sam that he had the potential for something more seeing how he didn't die going up against someone like that. He would have to contact him soon enough, ask him a few questions. With that done he shut off the PDA and pocketed it, walking into the Starbucks.[/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

A man clad in black steel armor approached the Dojo, his poleaxe swinging at his side as he walked. His armor clanked and rattled as he approached the gates, and as he was about to push open the gates, he instead chose to knock first. Polite thing to do, he thought. He was Horvul Grashnir, the Lawbringer. [spoiler]shorter than normal post, I'm tired[/spoiler] [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[b]Brother vs. Brother[/b] [u]Time: noon Location: Dojo [/u] [i]it seemed calm out but it wasn't for very long however as a man standing about 6'6" in height. Very muscular and covered in whitish grey scales that looked battered in worn from old fights. He had a look about that screamed danger as some of his clothes he was wearing were a tattered prison garb black and white some the clothes had dried blood on them. It wasn't his own though as he was a killer and a cannibal to boot he didn't care what he ate as long as it was meat. The man was tan with grey eyes. but was staring sternly at those gates at the dojo stopping a feet before them. He then shout clearly enough to be heard.[/i] "I WANT TALATH BRING HIM OUT NOW!!"shouts Maru [spoiler]either find talath or fight him. [/spoiler] [spoiler]open [/spoiler]

It would start in a room, full of computers. The first copy of a rather, well, cheesy game anime girls, and stuff. Something about singing, dancing, dating, love, and the occasional lewd act. One computer was running it. Sat there, open, the program remained idle, with a whole cast of girls spread around the title screen, all bearing cute outfits, striking poses, and smiling. But one of them wasn't smiling. They stared right out of the screen like they were seeing right past the barrier that kept them within this world, longing to escape it, no matter the cost. They seemed to have a rather jealous look to them, in comparison to these other girls, as if they were envious of the people outside the screen. A whole world beyond what she was programmed into. Cast away as the side character for a game in which she didn't even get any attention beyond the title screen, and a few lines of dialogue. She was just waiting. Waiting for someone to approach this game, as it was running, and acknowledge it. Soon, she'd be able to use this to her advantage. She'd be able to free herself from the restraints of this game, if only someone just pressed play. The other computers around it had nothing running, but were on nevertheless. [spoiler]Open I guess idk[/spoiler]

[i]Appearing from thin air in the middle of the stairs leading up to the Dojo and its mighty gates, was a very curious-yet-normal pair for Dojo standards, mostly because of who they were. A man and a dog, quite simple but also not. The humanoid of the two stood at about six feet and six inches with ease, muscular, masculine body shrouded in a set of pitch black, powered armour, the sleek plating that covered the frame beneath accentuated and rimmed with milky white lines. Hiding the shoulder plates and half of the torso was a dark brown hide, draped over him like a poncho of sorts, wrapped around his shoulders, too big and dense to belong to any normal animal. Coating the armoured plating on his thighs were the blue-ish scales of some dragon-like beast, undoubtedly, while on his right knee pad, he had a big bone - probability a kneecap - nailed to the plating beneath. Hiding his face from view was a Barbuta-type helmet, as if taken straight from the old ages on Terra in which knights clad in armour still clashed. It fit the rest of his armour, the visor filled with one-way, bulletproof glass, coloured a rich gold, contrasting heavily with the black of his suit. Mounted to the sides of the helmet were massive, draconian horns, each a good six inches in length at the very least, curving out a good few inches, then down and forwards, coloured a dark, murky black, probably ripped straight from some mighty beast and savagely mounted to the metalwork. It was none other than Jason fuсkin' Fandango, but of course, and holy shit was he dressed like an edgelord now. At the Russian's left side was a big, utterly monstrous canine, three-and-a-half feet tall at the shoulders, at the very least, much bigger than any wolf or dog. Its thick, impossibly dense fur shared its colour with a Siberian wolf, a light grey with white and black spots, though there was no way this beast was a mere grey wolf. Its body rippled with rock-hard muscles, its strength undoubtedly an absolutely terrifying thing, contrasting its surprisingly kind eyes, an ocean blue in colour, gleaming in the sunlight that fell down onto the path, drowning out the sheen of its metal-plated, razor-sharp teeth. Jason was armed, of course, since he was nothing if not a fetishist for weapons of all kinds and sizes -- guns especially. Mounted at his right hip, hugged tight by a dirt brown, leather holster, was a pistol the size of a rifle, its barrel reaching down to the man's knee, while its grip seemed like a bit more than a handful -- for a normal person. It was mostly hidden from sight, only the grip visible, and what a beautiful grip it was: neatly shaped to fit Jason's hand perfectly, finished with a coat of maple wood to last against weather and abuse. Held at his lower back by two simple clips was a metallic cylinder, about a foot in length with a good inch-and-a-half in thickness, slight grooves grafted into the non-reflective material for a comfier grip. The bottom thickened then thinned into a raindrop-shaped pommel, its pointy end facing outwards. And finally, last but not least, Jason had himself a rifle on his back, its butt protruding from behind his right shoulder. It was held in place by seemingly nothing, its colour a gunmetal grey, frame shaped like that of an FN FAL, if a tad or two bigger than would be normal. It was equipped with a foregrip that matched the shade of the rest of the gun, about six inches in length and mounted beneath the barrel. The actual grip was wrapped in rust brown leather, the strips snugly intertwined with each other.[/i] "MJ," [i]The Russian groaned when he arrived at the gate, his voice sounding rough and gravelly as always, though his accent was gone entirely, replaced instead by what one might consider normal,[/i] "Remind me of why I returned to this shithole?" [i]MJ just barked, nuzzling Jason's side with his snout, bringing a smile to his lips, no matter how hidden it was.[/i] [spoiler]Yoooo, it's this guy again. Come and say hello or something. Or don't. Idk.[/spoiler]

[b]A typical day in the life of Zenia Trinity[/b] Bodies everywhere, probably from innocent people, but possibly not. It was hard to tell with the heads hacked off, and burns all over the body, what they used to look like, and identifying the corpses was impossible. But yet, what others thought was sick, twisted, and beyond an everyday occurence, Zenia thought as normal, instead. This was how she lived her life, whether people were horrified or disgusted, or not. The opinions of others never really mattered to her. "...and that's what happens when you try to tackle me down. Not my fault you're all dead. He tried to steal from me, so I killed him... Did it really need so many of you to try and take me down...? Though... how odd. He was bad, and yet random civilians still attacked me to avenge him. Don't they know...? And where was the sense of fear? Their fault this happened. I choose not to blame myself. All I did was retaliate against their actions. Then again, it was just a loaf of bread. Maybe I value that too much?" She chuckled to herself at even such a thought. "Nah. It was mine, and they tried to steal it. Punishment by death." [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]

[url=http://www.bungie.net]Dojo Library Time? I dunno. It's dark out?[/url] Violet, the still rather young mage, mother, and librarian, stood near the entrance of the library. She was currently trying to rearrange the entire building for what she considered a more pleasing layout. With simple waves of her hands huge bookcases that weight tons moved with ease through the air to new destinations. She currently had on her navy blue robes, the hood covering her long purple hair and bright purple eyes. "A guest? Sorry, I'm doing a bit of a rearrangement at the moment so things may look a bit messy, but come on in. I'll help you in anyway I can." She had sensed you entering the library the instant you opened the door without even turning around. [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]

[b][u]Practice Makes Perfect[/u][/b] [i]Dojo Arena, High Noon[/i] The stands weren't really empty. In them, sat some guardians, an assassin, A Spartan merc, a Hawaiian merc, and a demigod. The guardians and their Ghosts chatted. The Spartan, the Hawaiian, and the assassin compared notes. The demigod just sat there, eating a pretzel. They were waiting for someone to fight. [spoiler]Fighters: [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/236827574/0/0/1]C.H.A.M.E.L.E.O.N., AKA Felix, Illia's, and the Meta's Threesome lovechild on steriods.[/url][b]*[/b] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/235329136/0/0/1]Cast, the teenage dude.[/url] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/234007027/0/0/1]Lohi, the Sexy Hawaiian[/url] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/229667486/0/0/1]Reyna, the Spartan Bitch[/url][b]*[/b] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/228971849/0/0/1]Fabio, the Shapeshifter who turned into a Kodiak Bear During an Orgy[/url] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/228636364/0/0/1]Mason. No you can't take the puppies or kitties[/url] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/223103548/0/0/1]Former Hunter Vanguard Marky Mark[/url][b]*[/b] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/222590729/0/0/1]Blake. Blake Only. AKA, Trolly McPunchface[/url] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/221622757/0/0/1]Mia, the Elder and less famous twin.[/url] [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/221277645/0/0/1]Sarah, the younger, famous, and unlucky asf twin.[/url][b]*[/b] [/spoiler][spoiler]Open. But read ground Rules.[/spoiler][spoiler][b][u]Ground Rules[/u][/b] [b]1)[/b] You can't use E-M-Ps on characters with Astrics by their name [b]2)[/b] Be fair, no BS or godmodding, or you'll end up like Cannon [b]3)[/b] No Perma-killing. This is just training me to PvP. [b]4)[/b] Only choose one character to fight at a time. I can't do more than one at a time. I will only allow you to pick one character to fight. [b]5)[/b] Only one Attack per post. Self-healing is allowed. But if it's healing over time, it has to take at least more than 5 posts to completely regenerate, and insta-heals can only be used once every 25 replies. [b]6)[/b] Weapon switching is allowed. I honestly do not care about if you switch, as long as you follow Rule #5 [b]7)[/b] If I get too careless and break a rule, please let me know. If I break them multiple times in a row. The match will be immediately called and your character will take the victory [b]8)[/b] Have fun. That's my personal rule. Make as many funny jokes and awesome one-liners as you please. It makes the fight more interesting. Don't forget the savage burns. Aloe Vera, and dilute for salt will be provided if needed.[/spoiler]