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Skulliii
Like a field of paper flowers, clouds rolling over head. Time seemed to stop, leaving her and him standing there locked in a moment of bliss. Rain fell and quench a thirst for lust, a sweet lullaby that would make them lay there for hours. Constantly melting into one another, a chaotic reality, a nightmare they built beyond the looking glass. She would be his coffin, hours would extend, swallowed up in silent screaming, muffled spurts of Ecstasy, blood and broken skin would flood the white rabbit. Rivers rolled with intense pressure that escaped in unwinding valleys. Orange eyes circled her vision, forever expanding, she was laying in a miracle mile. A perfect world that would throw everything else away. Today. Today was the end of the beginning. Like a pill she would swallow him, none of the drugs in this world could save her now. Like a white iris unfolding its petals, slowly, surely, dancing in a small breeze, being ripped apart with stings of underlying and buzzing bees. She took it all in. Laying in a blackness that engulfed her, she closed her eyes as his name escaped her lips again. "...Toooommmmm.." it was like a sweet candy that filled her taste buds with excitement, fear, it was a knowing of what could happen and what did. She lay there, like a body on rocks after falling forever to its end, her breathing soft and light like cotton candy. Calm and quiet, bruised and bloody, the peppermint filled up the room to the brim.
 Mining Coal · Sat Sep 20, 2008 @ 09:10pm · 0 Comments |
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RedPyramidThing It was, and he was more than glad to tell her. A nod, and he'd lift his shirt back up, gently unwrapping the gauze from his sides. It was probably a little soon to be doing this, but this one tattoo could get mutilated and it would still give off the same intended feeling. Once exposed, his flesh looked decayed, gray and wrinkled. The more you saw, the more it looked like it was forming into a shape, until you finally saw the entire design. A monstrosity, gray and disgusting, arms held up, bent at the elbow, hands on either side of its elongated head. Its mouth, rimmed in blood of countless souls, was pulled back into a malicious grin, razor teeth glistening in saliva, dripping from its mouth at the though of its next meal. The beast was squatting, its hips and gut visible, but the rest sunk below his waist, vanishing from sight.
Splitting the demon in twain was an elaborate golden scale, encrusted in jewels and set with intricate carvings. On one side was a feather, glowing faintly and floating just above the scale plate. On the other was a heart, or an absence of one, a black void left where a Valentine heart would be, the same type that was drawn by an 8 year old, a simple design.
Looking at Ryke to see her reaction, Colin asked her a simple question.
Ever heard of Annet?
Mining Coal · Sat Sep 06, 2008 @ 04:19am · 0 Comments |
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Name: Colin Patrick Ryall
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 33
Height: Appx 176 cm; 5' 10"
Weight: 220 lbs
Come, friend, you too must die.
Appearance:
{X}{X}{X}{X}{X}
Colin has short, blue hair. His penetrating, blue-green eyes are flecked with yellow, a small scar trailing from the tear duct of his left eye across the bridge of his nose. His angular face gives off a feeling of courage and confidence while making him look a few years older than he is. His snake bites rest below his slightly plump lips. His voice is an interesting mix of his mother's Irish and his Father's British, enunciating like the latter but with a small hint of the drawl from the former. His years on the swim and rowing team at Yale have built his body to the peak of performance, his triangular torso and cut muscles testament to his strength, but not his speed. Along his clavicles and spine are Chinese characters that say "Strength in movement and silence" in memory of his teacher and the word FELIX running down his spine in Latin letters. On the left side of his neck resides a snake, head turned profile with fangs exposed, wrapped around a anatomically correct burning heart with a hiltless dagger piercing the organ vertically. The inside of his left forearm has 1 Corinthians 13. On his shoulders, he has wings. Covering his entire stomach is his tattoo of Annet. On his hands he has electoos, weaving trails of light on the back of his hands tracing out Celtic knots. His left knee is criss-crossed with scars from his experience with interrogation. The right side of his ribcage has a scar running perpendicular to each rib, from the surgery to replace them with metallic replacements. Across his stomach is a scar, perpendicular to the waist of his pants, about two inches above his belly button.
Personality: Generally cold towards other humans, he’s come to be tolerable of those he works with, have the same goal, or share some of his views, and has even been known to befriend some. A lusty lad, he enjoys chasing tail. When not on a job, he’s usually rowdy and boastful, though avoids any details about his past and doesn’t answer any questions about past, current, or future jobs. He believes firmly in employer-worker confidentiality. On some occasions, he has outbursts of unwarranted violence or insane ranting.
A interesting amagamation of a playboy, a druggie, and a brutal fighter, Colin's years on Gaia have helped to crack his shell of angst against human kind, his anger now directed more towards metas; people who, for one reason or another, have supernatural powers. Draw more towards women, his life on Terra Sol (Earth) was less that normal and far from healthy. His abusive childhood and stigmatic eyes caused him to gain a twisted sense of all love, one where the only true way to show it to a woman is through sex and to a man through insults. Distant from most people, he's easily enticed into a fight, but not through the means that the person usually uses. Due to this, he usually enjoys being secluded, but will make appearances to spend a few hours with some old friends.
History:
The birth of a monster
Colin was born to Alyss Cairn O'Hoyll and Graham Kerrigan Ryall on August 15, 1975 in Ipswich, England. When he was little, Colin was diagnosed with an odd ocular disorder called, uncannily, Felix-Garfield Syndrome. It occurs in 1 of every 5,000,000 children, and rarely exhibits itself as greatly as it did in Colin. Felix-Garfield Syndrome is harmless, though it enhances the afflicted's sight greatly. The muscles around the pupil didn't form properly during incubation so, when the pupils contract, they do so like a cat, shrinking to a slit. The formation of these muscles also caused the formation of his rods and cones to be off, granting him better low-light vision, but caused colors to be more gray than should be, and he can't see yellow.
During elementary school, Colin discovered he was a contortionist. Oddly, every joint in his body was double-jointed. He could bend and twist in ways that no one else he'd met could. Secretly, Colin began to test the limits of his joints, discovering exactly how far each could bend before he'd collapse under their pain and how he could balance while doing so.
In grammar school Colin joined the track team. Studying hard and working harder on his academics, he quickly became the valedictorian of his class, keeping this status through high school. There, he would quit track and join the swim team.
Accepted to Yale, Colin majored in Sociology and minored in Language. He continued to be on the swim team and became a member of the rowing team, quickly rising through the ranks of both to become Team Captain. After four much filled years, Colin traveled to the Filipines, where he was taken in by Abuan Dimaano, a teacher in the arts of Kali and Escrima. While living with Abuan, Colin was taught Kali and Escrima and, for a few years, felt at home.
The death of an innocence.
That was before the attack. One night, three men decided to remove the threat of ‘Western Communism.’ The three were drunk as they decided to kill Colin and, after entering Abuan's house, entered the elder's room by mistake and stabbed him repeatedly in the dark. The sound of struggling woke Colin who, thinking they were being robbed, grabbed his knife and went to investigate. Seeing the three leave Abuan's room, Colin attacked.
The first man fell with eight swipes, his throat a chunk of ground meat. The second had useless lungs before the first hit the floor, and the third, well, he was impotent. Blood dripping from his hands and covering his shirt, Colin looked down at the three corpses and, with calm, calculating eyes, went into his master's room.
Man was evil.
Grabbing his master's necklace of prayer beads, Colin went into his room, packed what he needed, and left. He was 24.
Colin became a hired hit-man, his detest for life driving him further and further towards oblivion. It fascinated him, death.
The fracture of a mind
One stealth op mission went wrong. Captured and tortured, Colin continued to leak just enough information to keep him alive, but his contractor a secret. He experienced it all: waterboarding, bones broken, veins injected with various chemicals with varying effects, etc.
When given the chance, Colin struck. Barely managing to escape, Colin managed to reach a river and, passing out, floated down the Colorado to Nevada. Waking in a hospital, the doctor's had many questions, and Colin told him he couldn't remember. Faking amnesia, Colin recovered over the course of eight months, working every day to recuperate more of his strength and flexibility. The ribs on the right side of his body had broken and, when healing, formed so that they applied pressure to the lungs, causing each breath to be shallower than they should and had created a danger of popping his lung. The doctors decided that surgery was necessary and, because of the extent of the damage, metal alloy prosthetics were used instead of his bone. When finally healed, Colin left the hospital under the identity of Charles Chissik, a freelance photographer.
After that, he was never seen again.
The rejection of a being
Groom Lake Facilities had been working on a Interspatial Matter Transporter called HECATE, after the Greek Goddess of Crossways. Testing zones had been previously established and, on Tuesday, Nov 27, 2007, Colin stumbled upon this zone through fault of proper security measures. Out foraging for food, the soft hum of the fuel-lines and the fusion reactors gave him pause and, as he turned his head towards the noise, he was blinded by the 'portal' created.
Scientifically, a wormhole was opened for a split second which engulfed Colin into it, speeding him away to the world of Gaia, but to the Secretary of Defense, it looked to be a large flash of light. Nothing special, just a flash of light. The steel box that they had placed out in the field to be sent through the wormhole was still there, sitting in the middle of the testing zone without any structural change save for that the metal had condensed into a harder substance. Though this was interesting, the lack of interspatial transit caused the first test to be deemed a failure.
Of course, Colin knew that whatever had hit him had worked. HECATE could only transport biological material. If it was once living or is still alive, it can move through the wormhole.
This created an awkward situation when, once deposited in Bassken Lake, Colin discovered he was naked save for his rattan sticks and prayer beads which were floating beside him. Found by a fisherman, Colin was escorted to the nearest hospital, where he was given some clothes and asked about where he'd come from and what had happen. Surgery to replace his missing ribs was necessary, and so his newer set, made from Gaian metal, was placed inside of his body.
Two years later, Colin was released into Gaia.
A new start
At the Colosseum Draconis, he met a totty called Gen. That day he showed her a star, locked deep inside the lower floors of the labyrinthine colosseum. Her reaction was, well, less than admirable. She was actually rather unimpressed and less than entertained. As they were leaving an aspect of one of the great old Ones rose from its prison, seeking them out. Shocked and horrified by the smell they flew from the corridors and, riding away as fast as they could, shuddered as the night air was blotted out by nightgaunts. Luckily they escaped with their sanity intact. That night he spent with her and, trying his hand at the whole concept of love, tried to dedicate himself to her.
Another day, another split
Present during the events of Frostchild, Colin was a covert member of Kitten Hats. During that something happened to him, which he would later find out was him dying, which weakening his mind. After that day, he’s become prone to outburst of unwarranted violence or insane ranting. From that mission, though, came good as well in the form of a few friends known as the Ryke twins: Zandra and Lissy. A case of mistaken identity introduced Colin to Lisselle, the two hitting it off after finally correcting the easily made mistake. Shorty there after, Colin finally got a chance to talk to Zandra who, preferring to be called Ryke, got into an argument with the punker that resulted in an unwarranted kiss on his part and the gift of a scar from her. From there, his friendship with the two grew to an ever increasing state of affection and caring, eventually leading to an intimate relationship of sorts.
Kings of the Earth
EKS, a tournament invitation dropped into his lap, he accepted and traveled, hunting out the stage on which he'd fight. His first round was, well, non-existent. His opponent, Ebris Dhifi (an acquaintance of sorts), left his waiting, never showed, and pissed off the punker to no end. When he found out it was Ebris that stood him up, Colin swore he'd get that little prat back. His second fight, an actual fight, was against a woman by the name of Iris. Her hair, somehow able to become razor sharp and flow like an extra appendage, was her weapon of choice, and a dangerous one at that.
[[IN PROGRESS]]
Down time
With nothing better to do, Colin invested in a warehouse outside of Durem, hidden deep in the forest on the outskirts of the city. Here was where he'd decided to start up his own little business of sorts, and that business was narcotics. Buying a few starter products from a few good men (Chair Mann and Marquis Quintilius le Dolmance) and, with that, slowly branched out into the world of dealing.
In his backyard, between the warehouse and the forest choking out the sky behind it, he has two gardens. One of food, the other of weeds. the food is restricted to carrots, potatoes, and the occasional vine of strawberries when the weather permits. The other garden is to be avoided by anyone but him.
Mandrake, Castor, Lords and Ladies, each plant poison. With these he makes his own toxins, a small lab inside of a shed he'd built further into the forest, buried far enough away from the warehouse to prevent any form of collateral damage if the place exploded.
Through this trade Colin met a shape shifter called Izette Pretchel[??] who, after very little persuasion, was convinced to become a pusher for Colin so that he could spend more time trying to accrue some more stock.
A death and a birth
Hell's Stride. A chapel that had been abandoned in return for becoming a popular area for brawls and fights to break out in. This was a fateful day in his life. This day he finally met Dzan Streea, an adopted member of KH during the ops through Frostchild. A simple mistake changed everything. Colin recognized the man from the mission and, assuming he knew about the contents of what they'd been sent to do, he attacked and Dzan, always hungry for the kill, fought back. The victor was Dzan, but he spared Colin's life, resulting in one of the most dangerous pledges in humanity: the blood-debt. From being beat almost to death, his mind, finally reaching its limit, snapped, and from that came something that would slowly destroy him. Managing to drive away, he made it to the Temple of Falis where, after an interesting encounter with the staff there, and by interesting I mean a brutal fight, he was restrained and healed.
That day gave birth to Tom, the thing many would fear.
Virtual Insanity
Tom. The beast of the man. Inside of Colin's head lived a darker side of himself, one born of destruction to create just that. So many parents - his two years in captivity, Tanith, Dzan, Gen, Spooky - lead to such a violent break in Colin's psyche that his mind had to partition some of himself off to prevent the punker from cracking and going completely insane or, worse, into a vegetative state. A demon given to him by demons. Tom can only be described as twisted. He enjoys playing with his prey, which includes even his host body Colin. His goal is to destroy the man he was pulled from, and it's a 24/7 job.
TRC and TCC
The Rave Club. A new joint owned by Dzan, the last man Colin wanted to see again. Yet, through some turn of fate, the two joined together due to some words through the grapevine about Colin's little narc operation.
[[more to come]]
Apparel:
-- Green Bomber Jacket: This is Colin's favored top, coupled with some form of band tee underneath. It has seen many encounters in battle, and has patches of worn and faded material to show for it.
-- Modified Converse: These shoes, cut to be the normal height of a shoe, are of a tartan print, the plaid pattern running slanted towards the toe. The heels have also been changed. Two rigged steel plate shaped to fit the contour of his foot, about 2 mm thick each with 2 mm separating them, have been implanted into the heel to allow for stronger, more solid kicks, as well as the possibility to break bone if the blow is delivered with enough force or at the right angle.
-- Goggles: Colin's goggles have one-way lenses, their reflective surface preventing from anyone to see his deformed eyes when he wears them. UV-A and UV-B protection allow for his somewhat extra-sensitive eyes to be protected from the sun's rays.
-- Key Ring: A retractable key ring, Colin keeps his set for his Vulture hoverbike on here.
-- Gloves: Used when dealing with fellow blade users.
-- Thumb Rings: One on both thumbs. The ridges on them allow for, occasionally and rarely, the ability to remove skin from his opponent with a forceful twist at the end of his punch or while grabbing them.
-- Ribs: The bottom five ribs on Colin's left side are made from nickle-titanium(NiTi) one-way http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shape_memory_alloy#One_Way_Memory_Effect]shape memory alloy, the transition temperatures are as follow:
In the neutral, or Martensitic state, Colin's ribs are shaped as, well, ribs. They interfere with nothing and have no outstanding special abilities except for the superelasticity allowed due to the NiTi. When small amounts of workload or pressure are applied to them, they have the ability to 'bounce back,' or reform, to their original shape. If this threshold is exceeded, then the ribs deform and bend to whatever they should when struck the way they are in the specific scenario. However, when they are heated to the Austentite temperature, the ribs gain an even higher level of elasticity that was unachievable before. In this state the atoms return to the shape that the ribs held before being moved or twisted past their natural threshold. This phase lasts for only a few seconds, and the temperature is created by [[??]]
-- Others: The rest of his outfit is subject to change.
Weapons: Escrima sticks; knives; Ares Swords; Pepper Spray; Punisher baton; Hecuters
¬Escrima sticks - These 2.3 foot-long shafts of Kamagong wood are 2.5 cm in width, making for a swift and hard weapon.
¬Knife - Colin uses a Sniper Double-Edged Combat Knife; a 7" blade with a rubber-reflex grip and a tong hole. He also has sets of 5" throwing knives, 3 strapped to the inside of each forearm and 2 to the outside of each ankle when he brings them.
¬Ares Swords - These dual swords are a combo piece, and can be used as either a metal baton when locked, or the twin swords when apart. The blades are a foot long, the handles each 1.2 feet. 2.4 feet in total.
¬Pepper spray - held on his key ring with his motorcycle keys, it looks like a simple metal rod, about 3-4 inches long. Inside is a canister that has enough toxins inside to allow for three sprays before in needs a new cartridge.
¬Magistratum Chastisement "Punisher" Baton - Meter long rod of plasteel wit a hollowed out core. In the core is a liquid metal alloy, used to augment the blows landed. [[more to come]]
¬Hecuter Auto-Pistols - [[description to come]]
Fighting Style: Brawling and improvised weapons and tactics. Shrugging off his learned fighting styles because of their impracticality on Gaia, Colin has decided to go the route of "do what works."
Abilities: Felix-Garfield; Mutated DNA+ [[Galapagos Phenomena [[Degeneration]]]]; Flexibility and Contortion
Description:
Felix-Garfield Syndrome: A birth defect of the eye that causes pupils to dilate like that of a cat. This allows Colin to see in anything other than pitch black at the sacrifice of color vibrancy.
Mutated DNA+: When he traveled through the tunnel opened by HECATE, the polarized ions that held it open emitted an odd form of gamma radiation, altering his DNA. Latent until just after the events in Frostchild, the mutated proteins in his body activated, causing a chain reaction in his body. Cancerous tumors formed all over his body and, in a matter of minutes killed him. However, he did not remain dead for long. The mutation acted as a catalyst for his body’s defense mechanisms. He could heal faster, clot quicker, mend bones at a rate twice that of normal humans, and his body could reject anything harmful inside of his body, literally pushing it out through his skin. Finally, it created a sort of ‘restart’ button inside of him. If he ever died, his body would continue to mend him until back to a satisfactory level of functionality, then revive him.
X--+Galapagos Phenomena:
His DNA's mutation has continued unchecked, rampantly changing to keep him alive. When exposed to certain hazardous or unhealthy stimuli, his body begins to slowly adapt defenses to prevent such dangers from having effect. This could include but is not limited to increased bone density/thickness, synthesized anti-bodies, and heightened senses.
These enhancements can, and usually do, have draw backs. These include but are not limited to inabilities to float or swim, distorted senses or lack thereof, the absence of feeling, and slowed reaction time.
Current immunities/enhancements:
XXImmune to alcohol
XXImmune to cancer
XXBone density +6%
XXVision 20/16
XXBlood coagulation time 3-6 min
XX‡Degeneration‡ What's the point in having immunity if you're never in the situation? Without any negative stimuli, his DNA reverts back to normal to conserve the energy it burns to keep the immunities up and running. Whether it be increased bone density or anti-bodies for viruses, reaction speed or hardened skin, the evolution that took months to create will rapidly revert to the 'primitive' state it was in before in a matter of days. If the stimuli is reintroduced into the system, the degeneration will halt, and slowly begin the process of evolving once again from that current state. The current maximum time an absence of stimuli can occur before degeneration is a month.
Flexibility and Contortion: Though restricted a little more than he was when young, Colin can still bend in ways most men can’t. His sense of balance is about the same level as a gymnast or ice skater. His joints, for the most part, are still double-jointed, though his left hip pops loudly when he moves it the right way.
Skills: Stealth; Conditioning and Pain Resistance
Description:
Stealth: Though a built man, Colin can move with incredible stealth due to years of having to rely on silence to reach his targets or to escape from pursuers. Underbrush standing at 3 feet is no challenge for him, though anything thicker poses a problem.
Conditioning and Pain Resistance: Colin has become resistant to some elements, such as temperature and pain. His body can withstand temperatures ranging from 130F to -10F comfortably, while pain dealt to him is two notches lower on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being no pain and 10 being enough to kill. A 10 is still a 10, no matter what. These ranges are subject to change due to the Galapagos Effect
Mining Coal · Tue Apr 08, 2008 @ 01:21am · 3 Comments |
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Name :: Tobin Roberts
Age :: 37
Height :: 160 cm
Weight :: 168 lbs
Race :: Human
Appearance :: Tobin wears a Belgian 1930s era L.702 model civilian mask and a full firefighter’s uniform [minus the hat] covered in patches and marks of worn use.
History/Personality :: He doesn’t talk much, and air of intelligence yet chaos exuding from the way he carried himself. He was formerly employed in SWAT, but an unprovoked shooting caused him to kill a civilian and loose his job.
Weapons :: FatMax® Xtreme™ FuBar™ Utility Bar; FatMax® Xtreme™ Hammer Tacker with Blade; “Sticky Balls”; The Viper; Pipe Cannon; High-Point C-9 [10 26 round magazines]; Remington 11-87 [35 shells]; The Pack
Weapon Information ::
Fubar
Tacker
High-Point
Remington 11-87
Sticky Balls – Tennis ball bombs created by hollowing out the ball, placing a wax shell ball filled with Beggar’s Napalm [gasoline and styrofoam] inside of the cavity, then filling the rest of the inside with strike anywhere match heads until they can't move, then seal the tennis ball closed with a single strip of duct tape along the cut.
The Viper – Two metal studs built into leather wrist guards, two wires connected to a round disk on the inside, those same wires connected to a pack of 12 volt batteries. When pressure is applied to the tip of the small metal stud, it is pushed into the gauntlet and connects the circuit, causing a small, stinging shock to course through the object it’s touching, stunning them.
The pack - A lightweight camping bakpack filled with strange knick-knacks that Tobin uses to MacGyver up a weapon, such as Styrofoam, black powder, copper wire, rubber sealant, O2 tank, a lighter, cloth, antiseptic, chloroform, film canisters, TicTacs, soap, salt, sugar, pepper, pepper juice [Tabasco], etc. He also uses this pack to store his weapons and ballistics shield.
Pipe cannon - Exactly what it sounds like. It’s a pipe that can be used to launch make-shift rockets. ~AMMO INFO SOON TO COME~
Armor :: Firefighter’s uniform.
Type III Kevlar vest
Patriot 3 Minuteman II Folding Ballistic Shield
Armor Information :: Firefighter: protects from burns. Duh.
Vest: Protects chest from most bullets. Duh.
Ballistics shield
Spells :: None
Spell Information :: N/A
Special Abilities ::
Demolitions Experimenter
SWAT Training
Basic Hacker
Ability Information ::
Demolitions Experimenter - Tobin has been unemployed from the force 11 years. During that time he's experimented with volatile substances, learning how to make impromptu bombs and explosives from common, mostly harmless materials.
SWAT Training - Tobin has been taught many hand-to-hand styles of incapacitation, as well as proper gun manipulation and control, allowing him advanced knowledge and proficiency in these areas.
Basic Hacker - Tobin has also been learning how to bypass fire walls and break into small, personal information accounts. He can break through all small firewalls [personal computers] and some medium [business and school firewalls], and is working on buying information to build a program to defeat some high level walls [anything short of National Security]
Mining Coal · Thu Nov 29, 2007 @ 03:44am · 1 Comments |
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A crazy rant by another user:
You swine. You vulgar little maggot. You worthless bag of filth. As they say in Texas. I'll bet you couldn't pour piss out of a boot with instructions on the heel. You are a canker. A sore that won't go away. I would rather kiss a lawyer than be seen with you.
You're a putrescent mass, a walking vomit. You are a spineless little worm deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk, a cad, a weasel. Your life is a monument to stupidity. You are a stench, a revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.
You are a bleating foal, a curdled staggering mutant dwarf smeared richly with the effluvia and offal accompanying your alleged birth into this world. An insensate, blinking calf, meaningful to nobody, abandoned by the puke-drooling, giggling beasts who sired you and then killed themselves in recognition of what they had done.
I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same species as you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformation. I barf at the very thought of you. You have all the appeal of a paper cut. Lepers avoid you. You are vile, worthless, less than nothing. You are a weed, a fungus, the dregs of this earth. And did I mention you smell?
Try to edit your responses of unnecessary material before attempting to impress us with your insight. The evidence that you are a nincompoop will still be available to readers, but they will be able to access it more rapidly.
You snail-skulled little rabbit. Would that a hawk pick you up, drive its beak into your brain, and upon finding it rancid set you loose to fly briefly before spattering the ocean rocks with the frothy pink shame of your ignoble blood. May you choke on the queasy, convulsing nausea of your own trite, foolish beliefs.
You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy, squalid, nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You're a fool, an ignoramus. Monkeys look down on you. Even sheep won't have sex with you. You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost in a land that reality forgot.
And what meaning do you expect your delusional self-important statements of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us? What fantasy do you hold that you would believe that your tiny-fisted tantrums would have more weight than that of a leprous desert rat, spinning rabidly in a circle, waiting for the bite of the snake?
You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease, you puerile one-handed slack-jawed drooling meat slapper.
On a good day you're a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality of wallpaper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow wherever you go.
You smarmy lager lout git. You bloody woofter sod. Bugger off, pillock. You grotty wanking oink artless base-court apple-john. You clouted boggish foot-licking twit. You dankish clack-dish plonker. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You churlish boil-brained clotpole ponce. You cockered bum-bailey poofter. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup pratting naff. You gob-kissing gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted clapper-clawed flirt-gill.
You are a fiend and a coward, and you have bad breath. You are degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing you exist. I despise everything about you, and I wish you would go away.
I cannot believe how incredibly stupid you are. I mean rock-hard stupid. Dehydrated-rock-hard stupid. Stupid so stupid that it goes way beyond the stupid we know into a whole different dimension of stupid. You are trans-stupid stupid. Meta-stupid. Stupid collapsed on itself so far that even the neutrons have collapsed. Stupid gotten so dense that no intellect can escape. Singularity stupid. Blazing hot mid-day sun on Mercury stupid. You emit more stupid in one second than our entire galaxy emits in a year. Quasar stupid. Your writing has to be a troll. Nothing in our universe can really be this stupid. Perhaps this is some primordial fragment from the original big bang of stupid. Some pure essence of a stupid so uncontaminated by anything else as to be beyond the laws of physics that we know. I'm sorry. I can't go on. This is an epiphany of stupid for me. After this, you may not hear from me again for a while. I don't have enough strength left to deride your ignorant questions and half baked comments about unimportant trivia, or any of the rest of this drivel. Duh.
The only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have snipped away most of what you wrote, because, well... it didn't really say anything. Your attempt at constructing a creative flame was pitiful. I mean, really, stringing together a bunch of insults among a load of babbling was hardly effective... Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell, and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us "normal" people take for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget that there are "challenged" persons in this world who find these things more difficult. If I had known that this was your case then I would have never read your post. It just wouldn't have been "right". Sort of like parking in a handicap space. I wish you the best of luck in the emotional, and social struggles that seem to be placing such a demand on you.
P.S.: You are hypocritical, greedy, violent, malevolent, vengeful, cowardly, deadly, mendacious, meretricious, loathsome, despicable, belligerent, opportunistic, barratrous, contemptible, criminal, fascistic, bigoted, racist, sexist, avaricious, tasteless, idiotic, brain-damaged, imbecilic, insane, arrogant, deceitful, demented, lame, self-righteous, byzantine, conspiratorial, satanic, fraudulent, libelous, bilious, splenetic, spastic, ignorant, clueless, illegitimate, harmful, destructive, dumb, evasive, double-talking, devious, revisionist, narrow, manipulative, paternalistic, fundamentalist, dogmatic, idolatrous, unethical, cultic, diseased, suppressive, controlling, restrictive, malignant, deceptive, dim, crazy, weird, dystopic, stifling, uncaring, plantigrade, grim, unsympathetic, jargon-spouting, censorious, secretive, aggressive, mind-numbing, arassive, poisonous, flagrant, self-destructive, abusive, socially-retarded, puerile, clueless, and generally Not Good.
(yes, I'm done now0
Mining Coal · Tue Nov 27, 2007 @ 11:54pm · 1 Comments |
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~::RP Spoils::~
Quote: Sword of the Aetherflame (Or simply called Aetherflame) Weapon Type: Dadao Appearance: Four foot long blade, 1 and a half foot handle. Silver blade, gilded with gold. Three pointed wings at the hilt, with a coin on the end with red fur tied with a square hole in the middle. Blade curved smoothly. Phaelixiate runes inscribed on the sides of the blade (Ask Jaedynn or a Phaelixiate/Common translator to assist). Special Ability: When touching a certain object or person, the wielder or thought of the sword itself may dispel it. Induces Flaming Upheaval (slash upwards and say the name, and fire and energy will burst forth from the ground over the sword, spraying out from the indent on the ground).
Quote: Sun DancerWeapon Type: Broadsword/Zweihander Appearance: Dark-bladed sword, with ax blades for a hilt. Black cloth over handle. Pommel is a silver wing with a square hole. Long red fur tied to the end. Six foot blade, two foot handle Special Ability: Point the tip of the sword at an object with both hands, and focus energy into the blade. It will shoot a beam of heat and light. Given practice, you can control the amount of either.
Quote: Staff of Riches (Currently broken) Weapon Type: Staff Appearance: Simple pearly white staff gilded with gold. Three carved claws hold the jewel on the end, which can change color at will. Special Ability: Grants user ability to create constructs and golems out of gold, silver, platinum, jewels, crystal, and mithryl. Magnifies the power of light, electricity, and fire-type attacks by a slight amount when held.
Quote: Armor of the Doom BerserkerArmor Type: Full style plate armor. Description: Helmet encases the head to the shoulders, and a thin slit to see, with another going down to make a 'T'. Although without spike, contains two horns on the head, curved like an 'S'. The way the full helmet is shaped, and with the collar on the armor protects the neck. Flared shiart at the hips protect the sides being vulnerable. Spikes on the knuckled of the gauntlets. Armor this thick and large, limiting movement only slightly, but joints are made with smaller and thinner plates. Spikes cover most areas. Made of obsidian. Special Ability: Spikes can be broken off and thrown. Spikes regrow fully within five minutes. Although it is made of obsidian, it cannot be broken, shattered, or scratched, unless disenchanted first.
gold - Claatu verata nictu
purple - up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, A, B, select start
green - rubberbabybuggybumpers
Tabitha Katherine James
Mining Coal · Mon Oct 22, 2007 @ 03:43am · 0 Comments |
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Name :: Nova “Red Plague –or- Red” Takumi
Age :: 140
Height :: 5’ 11”
Weight :: 180 lbs
Race :: Vampire (Nosferatu)
Appearance :: Nova wears very plain clothes. Usually seen in a worn, gray trench coat, black pants, a black shirt with several cuts across the mid-section, and muddy brown military boots, his looks haven’t been affected by the Nosferatu curse. In fact, they have increased his allure among those not gifted with the Embrace, the only draw back him malicious aura that is difficult to keep hidden. His dark black hair is cut short, keeping it out of his face, and his crisp, green eyes seeming to always emanate evil. His smile is coy, bordering on mischievous, and his voice is like silk, though his Nosferatu aura taints it, giving those that hear it an odd feeling of despair.
History/Personality :: One of the few members of the Burakumin (A rare Nosferatu lineage of Asian vampires), his new life was blessed with good looks, but a suffocating aura of hatred and malice at humans and what they made him. An Inquisitor for the Lancea Sanctum –A vampire cult that believes that Christ’s blood created a vampire out of the centurion that pierced his side with a spear, Longinus- he hunts down those that speak heresy out against the church. Having slowly worked his way up the social ladder, he is renowned among the nocturnal community and knows where to go and who to talk to for most anything. A close friend of the Prince of his region, the only reason he’s hasn’t progressed past an Inquisitor is his love of the hunt and his sadistic before-life. Having grown up in Japan, his mother was American and named him. His father died before birth, and his mother passed when he was eight. Living in many foster homes, he was never rooted in one place for too long and never made any long-lasting friendships. His slowly festering hatred eventually burst forth at the age of 16, causing him to strike one of the foster workers and flee. Getting lost, he was found by a hunting member of the Burakumin who could taste his rage in his blood and gifted him with the Embrace. Thankful of what the vampire, Takoyo Murashima, had given him –a family and friends- he forever hated humans and what they had made him.
Weapons :: Nova uses two Deer Horn knives, a compound crossbow with a pull-lever, laser sighting, and steel tipped bolts, and a wakizashi.
Weapon Information :: Every weapon is simple, except the crossbow. It’s an Equinox, and Nova uses Laser Bolt Carbon Crossbow Arrows with it. He carries his weapons concealed under his coat, and has a capped quiver with 300 bolts.
Armor :: An IOTV [Improved Outer Tactical Vest] under his shirt.
Armor Information :: This armor is barely classified as a Type IIIA.
Spells :: Thebian Sorcery: Gifts and rites given only to the most fervent believers of the Lancea Sanctum, they are themselves ‘biblical’ mysteries.
Blood Scourge, Curse of Babel, Liar’s Plague, Malediction of Despair, Transubstantiation, Stigmata
Spell Information ::
A] Blood Scourge: Using their own blood, the user can create a whip from their Vitae (The vampire’s life force). The size of the whip doesn’t matter; it still costs the same amount of vitae. To use this ritual, the user must cut open the palm of their hand with a sacrificial knife.
B] Curse of Babel: This curse leaves the subject speaking in tongues, all forms of communication indiscernible. This curse lasts until sunrise and the subject must be within earshot upon being cast. The offering for this spell is a human’s or animal’s tongue.
C] Liar’s Plague: Nova’s most favorite ability, the subject is forced to speak only truth. If they lie, swarms of beetle pour out of their mouth and crawl over their body. The offering is a insect’s carapace, whole and uncrushed.
D] Malediction of Despair: Much like Mesmerize, this ability allows the user to make their subject accomplish a certain task given to them, though Malediction causes them to fail instead of succeed. The subject can try to break the curse, but only if they’re aware that it has been placed on them. The curse remains until the task given is met or it is removed. The offering is a lock of the subject’s hair.
E] Transubstantiation: One of the most powerful spells of the Lancea Sanctum, this spell allows the caster to change one object into another. He can change sand into blood, a frog into a wolf, or a human into a pillar of salt. This effect lasts until the next sunrise, and every portion of the object changes back, so if a human were changed to ice and an arm broke off, both object would revert back to their fleshy form at the first rays of sunlight, resulting in a very drastic and painful experience. The only limitations are that both the starting and ending object must be smaller than the caster, the end object is not magical, so a snake cannot become a Lycan but can become a wolf, and cannot exhibit any human-like intelligence. The offering is a drop of liquid gold. One of the only two spells that require a cast time, it takes three turns to finish.
F] Stigmata: A most violent ritual, but not the worst of the Thebian Sorcery, a successful casting causes the subject to bleed profusely from their hands, feet, and side like Christ did when nailed to the cross. A mortal will bleed to death and a vampire will lose their vitae, then suffer damage, and lastly fall into torpor (the half-sleep that vampires go into during the day). The curse can only be stopped by the user, and only lasts as long as s/he specifies at the beginning of the ritual. The offering is a crucifix, which crumbles to ash upon the completion of the ritual. THe second spell to require cast time, it takes five turns for a full spell, but Nova can release it at any time during these turns, causing a weaker effect depending on the number he stopped at.
Special Abilities :: Celerity, Dominate, Command, Majesty, Obfuscate, Veridical Tongue, Auspex, Resilience
Ability Information ::
1] Celerity: Nova gains momentary super-human speed, causing him to blur and vanish, reappearing somewhere else.
2] Dominate: One of the preferred Disciplines of the Nosferatu, Nova can accomplish the following:
A] Command: Upon establishing eye contact, Nova can issue a one-word command (such as “Jump,” “Sleep,” “Cough,” etc.) and the subject must do it immediately unless the order causes the subject to be put in immediate danger. Also, the response to the order depends on how the subject sees it and if it’s vague. The command can be encased in a sentence to hide it from onlookers and eavesdroppers.
B] Mesmerize: Once again, this can only be accomplished through eye contact. Both the user and the subject must have complete and intense concentration, and the command must be specific and easily understandable. Commands can vary from the present to the future (“Go and open that door,” “The next time you see a blonde-haired woman in a white dress, spill your drink on her,” “Follow [insert subject description] and take notes on them and report back to me on the first of the month,” etc.)
C] The Forgetful Mind: One of Nova’s favorite abilities, this one requires eye contact. The user must act like a hypnotist and ask direct questions to receive answers from his/her subject, and can manipulate memories accordingly. Blurring recent happening is simple enough, but completely erasing one’s past and identity from their own mind, though extremely difficult, is possible.
3] Majesty: The user can become even more attractive then they already are.
A] Awe: An increased charisma wafts forth from the user, attracting those around him to hear him. This is most useful during speeches.
B] Revelation: A mere friendly look or a few comforting words from the user can break down the suspicion or fear of the subject and cause them to reveal close, personal secrets.
4] Obfuscate: the ability to hide certain aspects from onlookers
A] Touch of Shadow: By calling on the energy of the shadows around him, the user can hide small objects such as a gun or knife or their body from sight. A skilled user can even keep the object hidden during a thorough search. A master can even hide large objects such as a backpack full of money or a dead body.
B] Mask of Tranquility: This ability causes the user to make his undead aura vanish. This erases the unease humans feel while around the user and causes other vampires to mistake him for a human. The user can turn this ability on or off when he pleases.
C] Cloak of the Night: Similar to Touch of Shadows, this ability can hide the entire user and everything they’re holding. The user can even vanish from sight while being looked at directly.
5] Veridical Tongue: The subject cannot lie. Their mouth won’t allow them to. When they speak, all they can say is the truth. They can choose not to speak, but silence usually (if not always) leads to guilt.
6] Auspex: This Discipline heightens the casters senses to a superhuman level.
A] Heightened Senses: Increasing each sense, the maximum range, so to speak, of each is doubled. The caster can also choose to hone in on one specific sense, increasing it tremendously.
B] Aura Perception: When using this spell, the caster can see the aura of one specific person at a time. Its color will alert him/her to the person’s mood and intent, giving them a second more to react.
7] Resilience: This Ability is latent, always on. It allows the undead to take considerably more damage than its average vampire counterpart, granting it the ability to even take a hail of bullets to its form.
Mining Coal · Sat Oct 20, 2007 @ 05:36pm · 1 Comments |
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--Name: N/A
--Nickname: Wen, Wendi, Wendy
--Age: ???
--Gender: N/A, commonly appears male.
--Height: 6'3
--Weight: 90 lbs.
--Race: Wendigo
--Appearance: A tall, whithered thing, Wen's body looks almost like an emaciated man covered in wrinkled, brownish-gray flesh. Fingers tapered to a point, and its skull elongated with a long mouth lined with three rows of yellow jagged teeth. It eyes look like a normal human's, except its irises are black.
--Abilities: Wen's abilities are partitioned into two categories: Spirit and Corporeal. Spirit effects are only possible when he's outside of a host body, and Corporeal only work when inhabiting someone.
¬: razz ossession: Spirit; Like it says, Wen burrows into the body and mind of a host and take complete control of all functions. Only applicable on NPCs or willing or defeated RPCs.
¬::Goast: Spirit; Wen can move through solid objects, leaving behind an odd decay in the same shape as he was when moving through it. This decay causes the area to sag inwards and become an ashy-gray color.
¬::Manifest: Spirit; Wen can solidify its body, becoming a physical entity. This takes concentration, and a break in it can cause Wen to slide back into his spirit form.
¬::Ageless: Corporeal; Wen's host body doesn't age.
¬::Consume: Corporeal; If the host is wounded, consuming an amount of body equal to that which was lost will cause the removed section to slowly and painfully grow back. Literally, an eye for an eye.
--Host Name: Rorke Errenhal
--Nickname: The Butcher
--Age: 40?
--Gender: Male
--Height: 4' 6"
--Weight: 160 lbs
--Race: Human
--Appearance: A wild man, Rorke's long, dark-brown hair comes down to the base of his neck, a beard of the same look trailing down to the middle of his chest. His attire is a plain white shirt, black pants, an apron, and rubber boots, all stained with years of blood. Usually, his beedy green eyes are hidden underneath his hair, as is his mouth. His teeth and nails have been filled down to a point so as to make it easier to remove flesh from bone. His body is very muscular for his size, muscles built from years of hefting meat in and out of trucks and coolers, hacking at meat and bone with cleavers, tenderizing with mallets, and restraining struggling victims.
--Abilities:
¬::Increased Dexterity: After years of bein frozen at the age of 40, Rorke's speed has only increased.
--Weapons:
¬::Meat Cleaver
¬::Meat Mallet
--Fighting Style: None. He fights to kill or, at the least, eat.
--Bio: [[Coming Soon]]
Mining Coal · Thu Oct 18, 2007 @ 04:09am · 0 Comments |
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