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Southern Map? Good or Bad?

Good 0.41666666666667 41.7% [ 80 ]
Bad 0.078125 7.8% [ 15 ]
Not sure yet O.o 0.50520833333333 50.5% [ 97 ]
Total Votes:[ 192 ]
Zieg Wolfblade's avatar

Vicious Werewolf

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Meta-Shroom

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End to a harrowing endeavor.

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Ever since his awareness had touched Anadorian energy he knew this place was chaotic and ever-changing. Great battles would always be waged on this planet's soil and blood would constantly be spilt for one reason or the other. But he truly had no idea just what exactly that feeling had really meant until he found himself at the last battle around the Mana Tree. The magnitude of energies all swirling around him in such a storm of conflict had reminded him quite clearly of the many struggles he had been a part of or watched since his birth. Now he found himself at the base of the mighty tree once more, a symbol of the planet's sheer power as well as a glorious testament to nature's wonders, surrounded by conflict once more. He had to appreciate the irony that his tow most memorable moments in this place were both in the presence of this goddess. That tree would make his patron very happy if he could see it. At that moment Zieg resolved to immediately share every minute detail of the memory of the great tree when he returned to his home and came back into Kogetsue's fold.

At the moment, however, there were more pressing matters to attend to as he pulled himself up from where he sat. The battle had finally reached its conclusion, the clamor of war dying down in the background. And soon enough the atmosphere of mourning set in around him as the remnants of the solar children and the human army began to collect the dead. He couldn't help but feel a swell of respect for these men and children as they showed the same respect and decency to both friends and enemies. All the bodies of the solar children, the Red City military, and the Lux Paladins were being brought together as they should be. Something else that confirmed and strengthened his belief in the notion that he needed to stay and help these people as much as possible.

He approached the two leaders, Taku and Johnathan, and made sure his hood was down so as not to be rude. He knew that neither of them would know him as he was still very much a stranger to Anadoria but showing one's face was common courtesy. And of course his eyes were no longer glowing, given that the residue energy of his true form had fully evaporated and left him himself once more. As he approached the air around him was cold, his body still absorbing ambient heat to help facilitate recovering the energy he had lost. "Before I help with the dead I have a few questions to ask of you," he started in as he came to a halt roughly ten feet away from the two leaders of armies. "Sorry. I don't know your name. But most of them are for you," he stated, nodding his head towards Taku.

His body was relaxed and he crossed his arms over his chest while putting his weight on one foot, his sword sheathed securely on his back. He made sure to adopt the non-threatening posture as he did not wish to pervay the notion that he meant harm to either of them.


The world shudders
as darkness closes in.
I stand in its path
to fight for those that can't.
But at the end of the day
I slip into the crowd
as just another passer by.
No one knows my name
No one will remember my face.
I will fade into history
and only be known as 'The Hero'.
TheSerpentSpitsOnAltars's avatar

Blessed Prophet

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Vengeance of Such Hatred: Even the Sand Will Scream


Fiora's hold on Varso tightened as they had passed the one figure, and the other had appeared before the entrance they were heading towards. She leaned in close just as Varso was tensing himself. She felt as if she were trembling. This girl would be a weak link as the danger grew, and yet Starnger felt pity and Sairyss clung to her like a daughter. What kind of fools had Varso acquired in his mad quest?
Around them, Starnger and Sairyss both rode flanking Varso's steed. Blades had already been drawn.
"So, friends of yours?" He asked, gesturing with the brandished blade at the figure now behind them.
As Varso would reply, there was a strange sound in the distance, rolling over the craigy hills and dunes. It was a screeching hissing sound as one of the Suna sand storms had whipped up, the drastic temperature change from the rising Sun having apparently spurred winds. However, Suna's storms usually reached this magnitude in the deep southern lands, prompted by the coastal winds.
The screaming hissing sound of sand abrasive against sand, and the stones flung by it was coursing towards the riders and the figures. If violence was the fate of this situation, a fight would be difficult in such conditions.
Sairyss' voice was barely perceivable as the rumbling to the side, and now coming overhead grew louder. The morning son was being blocked now. "We must seek shelter!"

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PainLord Mercer's avatar

Dapper Grabber

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Innocence and Guilt
The Blood Coats

Innocence. Guilt.

These two singularities had 'Mercy' in their grasp, it was not his own life that had been saved. It was merely another life added to their own, Mercy a combination of Iban, Alex, Mark and Alan now belonged to them whether he liked it or not. But the thoughts...as he sat down upon the chair shaking slightly still...the taste of ember and smoke in his mouth... the thoughts! those very thoughts plagued his mind...those eyes that peered into the very fabric of his soul made it feel like it bled inside him. The silence is what got to Mercy the most. They always seemed to pause and just stare at him, like they wanted him to speak or maybe crack? it was probably a test...but Mercy had no interest in that...he stayed quiet letting them start up the conversation again. If he said the wrong thing he knew that these two, hell... even as a combined form of the four mercers...

He doubted he could even kill one of them.

"So, MeRcY." the voice seemed distorted for some reason, the one without the cigar gritted his teeth. "I know very well how painful this is going to be for me, I hate it...but you I can tell...I know so well..." Mercy had a worried look for a moment as if he was hearing things not how they were... but the instant he finished his sentence the other one with the cigar stood up. His body twisted round and drove the cigar into the others eye socket, following threw he stuck his pointer claw like finger into it and popped the eyeball in a bloody mess. Mercy watched in horror as the eyeball seemed to squeal in pain along with the other eye as the cigar smoker drove his thumb in the other socket popping the second one as he grasped his fingers around the bridge of the nose and lifted him up. The force of his left arm smashed him against a non visible wall, the 'Nothing' that they were in seemed not to have any logical sense. Maybe that's how this place worked? how could nothing have a something?...it made no sense to Mercy but he decided to ignore that.. well at least he wasn't actually thinking about it after seeing what happened next. With the spare right claw the Blood coat drove it into his brothers gut and tore out his stomach and crushed it with his hand, he didnt stop there at all. The juices of stomach fluid made his hand shine oddly, then a strange vibration rippled over them as he flicked it back inside the Blood coats body. A few moments and the brother clicked his finger letting the acid explode inside his gut and tore out his intestines which piled out like a string of sausages from your local butcher. The heart. Mercy twitched as the heart lay bare hanging from his chest, watching as the blood dripped and poured down the mans body but not sticking to him in any way and rather piling on the floor in a puddle at where he sat before...a flash of the hands and a twist of the wrist the smoker had started tangling the flaming corpse up against and around his neck holding and choking him violently. IT was quick but he had now started flailing him left and right swinging him like a huge flail and crushing his brothers body there before him, what more could Mercy do but watch confused at what the hell was going on. Standing up Mercy saw this as a chance, he flipped the table and striked forward.. if any time to attack and get out of this mess now was the be-

"HoW iS YoUr DeCiSioN, mR MeRcY?!?!"

Mercy looked up and noticed he wasnt attacking him anymore, rather he was back in his seat and felt like he was tied down. Looking around their was no ropes, absolutely nothing. Just the blood coated 'demon' of sorts, the eyes lingering upon him as he watched him raise his hand to cover a new cigar in his mouth. As if wind was actually present in the Nothing? Thats when a pain shot through Mercies face as he felt his facial features tear from his muscles, a strange and violent wind gushed past and tore it off completely...

"Pointless isn't it...I..." lifting his hand down he took the cigar with it and leered his head upwards, breathing out a cloud of red smoke as if it were a mist of blood. His head then tilted behind him slightly...behind him was his brother handed up against the wall by his own intestines, his whole innard was bellowing smoke as organs looked like charcoal inside." 'We' rather...told you already..."

"YoU BeLoNg To Us!"

Mercy felt his voice crack and send a painful crack up his spine, the very frequency of his voice seemed to be able to break him. How did he even think he had a chance? the power was beyond his reasoning. I...I ...How...there....r....really is so...much more?

"The point Im trying to get across MeRcY is yes, there is power beyond what you can imagine. And we together aren't even that large of a percentage of what really lies out there..." He made a gesture toward the Nothing that was out in the black sea that they seemed to float in. "All your lives belong to us...you Mr Mercy...can call me...

Guilt."


Mercy looked up at him and shook in pain from his crippled spine, the name of this thing was Guilt? he tilted his eyes slightly over to the one hanging against the wall.

"Don't you worry about him Mr Mercy. He will come too in a few hours, I recommend you pay attention to me...as I am the element of your sPiLl..."

"What...Spill? what...do you mean?"

Guilt threw a thumb up over his shoulder to give a pointing toss of his hand at his brother blood coat, one that was definitely dead looking.

"His name is Innocence, I as i said am Guilt. This is normal procedure depending on the applicant of joining such a corporation as this. We together have to do this with each and every entity out there...torture destroy and tear apart the applicant and then depending on the applicants history of blood shed one of us is left standing to give you your enrolling...tasks. "

"Innocence, Guilt? you mean yo-"

"The blood spilt across this entirety's guilty victims? Why yes you would be correct. Your also smart enough for me not to tell you what my brother is I assume...your a big boy now, you can make out what you will."

Mercy breathed hard and thought about it for a moment, The man speaking to him is the essence of all guilty blood that has been spilt and his brother was the innocent, that made sense in accordance with Guilt's obligation as the guilty en-roller. Mercy knew that being a combination of four mercers...well...

He definitely had killed more then enough innocent than Guilty...


"So you understand the situation your in now correct? we Innocence here and myself work under a very special Singularity of such abominable power that you couldn't even comprehend. A darkness so black, a being that is always on the shoulder of the living..."

Innocence's head jerked up and he smirked as they both said at the same time.

"DEATH"

Guilt turned around and clicked his finger once, Innocence had then gone silent again as his head popped like a balloon. Guilt looked back at Mercy and pressed his hands together.

"I hope you won't disappoint Mercy, I have high hopes for you in our Corporation. So lets... now that we are alone...

Get down to buisness..."


PainLord Mercer's avatar

Dapper Grabber

Ascended Master


Varso listened to the wind, that was the calling of where his life lead now. This current situation being force...to walk upon the dirt as a land lubber. Such hate for this task, such hate for the woman who forced it upon him and his cursed crew. The grip of Fiora around his waste gave him an unsteady feeling as he took his eyes from the man that was now far behind them and to Starnger, he spoke oddly still not paying attention infront..."People?"

He turned his head quickly infront of him to get an eyesore of the giant sandstorm that had just picked up, the violent sands made a gushing sound as it tore up the cliff side that they had just reached, "Yes we do! the Tomb right he-". His dark heart skipped a beat just as he gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing at the hooded figure whom seemed to back away into the tomb...the glowing flame like hair hidden underneath it disappeared inside as well. "Thats the ******** b***h! Grrr I KNEW she was out here..." He turned back to Starnger. "They aren't friends, enemies...real mortal enemies...be prepared to fight....but first..." Varso looked up at the sandstorm that had just about hit the tomb. "WE MUST GET INSIDE FIRST!!!! IGNORE EVERYONE AND I MEAN EVERYONE THAT YOU SEE OUTSIDE. THIS STORM IS ******** DANGEROUS TAKE SHELTER IN THE TOMB!!!! WE MUST HURRY!!!" Varso slashed the reigns against the horse ot make it gallop faster and faster alongside Starnger as they neared the entrance. The sandstorm was just coming into reach, it was a race to the tomb before the storm blocked them from it....the wind was what let them knew that if they didnt make it inside the storm would suck them clean of the horses...a storm this size could tear them to shreds...

That witch is ******** mine...

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Kaboom.

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"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!"


xxxxxxxMirthful laughter echoed across the desert in response to the magic missiles hitting their target. Dark Dias' lower half of his head seemed to dislocate from the top half, his mouth was wide enough that it would split his head in half when he laughed. He was delighted to hear the five arcane rockets hit the target dead-on, and was relishing the moment... before a sudden burst of sand jumping into the air, headed straight for God broke his joy. Someone was coming to the fallen man's aid.

xxxxxxxThe Juuchi Yosamu would be retrieved from its place behind him, aimed straight forward, the curved blade's tip aiming down at God. The other sword, the Kladenets no Tsurugi, would stay behind Dias and create a powerful gust of wind that would propel the dark creature downwards straight at his opponent at increasingly high speeds.

Child Wren S Ift
She leaned forward in a single step then disappeared in a furious speed unmatched by any of her teammates. In mid-step Sin prepared a set of handseals. Chakra gathered at her fingertips so quickly that it showed as a bright green glow around her fingertips. She leaned on the ground and touched God's spine as he struggled to stand on the ground. At this time God and Sin were both exposed to attack and as she spoke the others were arriving as fast as they could.

"Our Father, which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom--!"


THUCK-FSHT!


xxxxxxxIf everything went according to plan... Dark Dias would descend upon the two of them like a one-winged angel and his sword of doom. Blood would splash out and onto the Juuchi Yosamu, which would stab straight through her back, come out her chest and continue downwards, then proceed stab through the other as if the sword had never even intended to stab her. She had just been in the way. Her pierced body would be abruptly pushed onto God by the impact of the nightmare creature. And so Dark Dias would be crouching on top of Sin and her master, the katana stabbed through both of them like a bond of death. The Kladenets no Tsurugi would be pointing upwards and away from his back...

xxxxxxxAnd yet, it seemed Sin would try her prayer again, yet her voice was not the same. It came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, and the sands turned black below them. Slowly a black fog emanated from them as if they burned... and the flames burning these sands were the fires of Hell itself, located just under the cover of the sands.

Ability
Minor Dreamscape Leak
Description: Dark Dias breaks through the veil of the Material Plane and part of the Dreamscape pours in. Due to Dark Dias' nightmarish nature, the highly morphic influence of the Dreamscape takes form of a nightmare, creating pseudo-real illusions and effects on the real world that come from the tear in reality that Dias has made in the shapes of horrible, twisted visions of known ones or altered landscapes. These effects can take myriad forms, but the illusions are generally not harmful. They can be used as distractions, to create visual cover or simply to intimidate opponents, however.


"No.

There is no salvation for you, God.

Today, you fell."


[Ki Energy: 65%]
[MP: 185/235]
Child Wren S Ift's avatar

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Quote:
And yet, it seemed Sin would try her prayer again, yet her voice was not the same. It came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, and the sands turned black below them. Slowly a black fog emanated from them as if they burned... and the flames burning these sands were the fires of Hell itself, located just under the cover of the sands.


"Sleep mortal Sin, Valhalla calls, join your sisters before you in the halls of the dead." Gore splashed onto the human's face with a shock at her selflessness. Somehow throw whatever foolishness the deamon king mocked him with her worshiping prayer as her words were possessed by another creature. Whispering quietly he spoke the release of this woman's life at her final words of prayer. "Your duty is complete and with this final prayer your death ." Relief showed through the slits that allowed her to see then empty mortal eyes stared blankly beside the man called God as the familiar chill of death caged her soul. Her mask fell to the side showing her beautiful face and gentle loving features of a good mother. A smile rose on God's face. The smile still mocked the Deamon King's effort. Pain hid underneath a mask as God's left arm jolted nervously from the shock of being stabbed like butter. Despite it all God had managed to move just enough to avoid fatal death.


"No.

There is no salvation for you, God.

Today, you fell."


Quote:
Sin's Sacrifice: A key point that allows God to connect with his Disciples using the masks they wear. Each "Sin" bears an image representing their personality and abilities. When a Sin is replaced a new host for the mask is chosen based on their personality and characteristics. These personifications are each of God's flaws and often work as a unit to assist or defend their leader in the time of crisis. The phrase that sin completed is the calling of the Contract that binds God to the "13 Shinobi" by granting their leader their strength and he protects them in return. They also share a smaller portion of his strength to make them stronger in a connected string unlike a soul connection.


"The Pain!" Lucky Seven grasped at his mask and dropped to the ground and let his body roll in the sand. Seven was a new Contractee but the others felt the same pain. "M-m-make it go awaaaay!" The youngest "sin" clawed at his mask shamelessly in front of the enemy as his right arm contorted and twisted as if being crushed by a heavy blow. The others ignored Six. Just like six, Seven the elder of six fell down to the ground sooner after in a similar manner. His body crushed underneath invisible blows that broke ribs, bent his legs backwards, smashed his fingers until Seven couldn't tell which injury hurt worse. "This.. Pain... Is.. The pain of our Creator?"

"Thank you Sin. I have awakened." God pushed off the ground in mid-roll to force himself to stand of the sandy dunes once more. The differences in his movement showed along with the lack of major injuries on God's body. "Thats four you've taken down. I won't let you get another. Shall we start from the beginning?" God said and pulled up the trouser of his right pant leg. "In Suna, this action is a sign of willfulness from a woman to her man." He laughed then went down to business as he activated a trigger in the Mech-Arm. The skeleton frame began its reassembly as he God waited. The inner frame of the mech-arm still remained in good shape as parts and spikes burrowed into the muscle structure where the chakra flow passed through. "Your tactics are.. Different." God smiled as he glanced at the remaining nine active disciples.
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(Sin counts as a mini-boss NPC.)
(Sin Completes Contract Prayer.
Converts all major injuries to Six and Seven.
Chakra: 90%
Stamina: 93%
Endurance boosted.)
Kaimyou's avatar

Wheezing Smoker

Zieg Wolfblade


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As I took the last drag from my cigarette, I ashed it in the empty coffee cup and through the butt in there. I sighed deeply as I looked again over to Travis. That outburst still had me on edge about joining this squad, even though I didn't really have much of a choice. Charles could see it in my face. "I assure you that this is not a normal occasion, sire. Try not to be too worried, it ruins your focus." I sighed again. "I guess you're right. I'll try to forget about it."

At that moment, Vincent began to speak as a nurse bot rushed over to him. I could only see her starting to unravel the bandages on his back from my spot on the bed adjacent from Travis's. I kicked myself off the bed, strolling over to the location. I peaked my head around the nurse bot's shoulder before getting waved at by a mechanical arm. I moved back quick enough so that it only grazed my face, but it still kept me on edge. "Hey! What was that for!?" The nurse bot just let out a grunt and continued on Vincent. I growled a little as I moved to at least see what he looked like. That didn't work out too well though; he was on the bed face-first into the covers. His back, however, had various mechanical sockets sticking out of it, but looked fairly normal. I cocked an eyebrow in confusion. I thought he was in critical condition... he looks just fine to me. At the time, I didn't realize how heavy under he was, and what he looked like before, but ignorance is bliss. At the time, I just hoped I could meet someone who was in this squad who wasn't insane.
Dylan The Oni Smith's avatar

Aged Raider

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A Vile Gift Box

As I just had gotten done dealing with a very important figure in my life as far as motivation and centralized goals of antiquated emotional establishment, I could only look to the next item on my list of s**t to do.

Make Vile a Gift Box.

At this exact moment I raised my eyebrow to the very concept of creating a gift box for the most evil ******** thing ever possibly conceived out of thousands of years of malignant space cancer. But hey sometimes you have to throw a [******** SPACE DOG A ******** SPACE BONE.

In an assembly of several minutes I began to gather together a series of various and fairly innocuous items in concept and theory.

Such objects included a one pound wicker basket, a 3 pound gold ingot, a 1 pound roll of insulated copper wire, 1 purple satin bow ribbon, 1 square foot of black felt, the cylinder from a .38 revolver, one 12 inch 3/4 inch diameter wooden dowel, a broken lightbulb, one pound of assorted metal shavings such as iron and aluminum blended together into a 1 Gallon capacity bag, a 5 pound cylinder of rose-colored marble and a 9 inch by 8 inch sheet of paper with ink of it that read as following.

"Dear Vile. Why don't you build yourself a body so I can destroy it again?
Sincerely,
Dylan <3


"Yes, Yes. Good... Now he will truly know the length of my affections as only a true tormentor would." I cackled at this as I began to hoist around the relatively heavy box to a room, behind a door, that contained nothing more than a massive jet black machine with hundreds of nobs and dials.

I coughed at exactly how over-the-top I designed this damn device to be in order to contain Vile but with a flash of black and green hands and explosion of noise, hundreds of nobs and several dials were turned and with an also equally appealing green exposure, a light had shifted from red to green and a trap door opened up into Vile's prison that he could not see.

I kicked the box in, shut the door and turned off the machine. "Good as done."
Dylan The Oni Smith's avatar

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A moment in the life of Cretin.


As Cretin went on with his business as his Dad had left the room, he couldn't help but feel his dad was avoiding him. It always seemed to come down to moments like these where his dad was actually trying to do things and teach him stuff about life, science, magic, being a Smith and in general all the insanity he could ever press upon him as a son. But it sort of felt like his dad was very... Distant from him.

I mean in his own right, his dad was a god, and god's were often very busy. But just how busy could he be as a god that he couldn't even have afforded the time to help him set the Stem-cell Gels replicated and based off various genetic samples of some of Odyssia's finest specimens. I mean this wasn't a body for himself they were building for. It was for his dad's friend... Some pasty-looking barbershop british-looking fellow with canary fat yellow hair and a smug, unappreciative look of just being a- Cretin needed to pause himself. He was getting mad at a man he didn't know because his dad spent more time with him... I mean, he had known him longer but it seemed cruel to Cretin.

He was the only one, he was he only heir to his dad and didn't hardly know anything about him other than he was so busy worrying about other kids more than his own. Well... That's inaccurate. He knew more than that. A great deal. He knew about his dad's family and how in time they became monsters and how his dad essentially was a psychopath and killed him drunken alchemical fury... How he killed his father. How he hated his life. How, despite, all the powers he did and now newly acquired from the Vile Campaign, he had never really developed even enough time since the Time Warp that followed before that... To actually relax. I mean, he knew he was going down to deal with Ester.

It was in the plans after all for today's tariff of chores to be managed on the Bushel Grounds.

Cretin paused a moment and stopped stirring what could be essentially described as human batter and looked up to his mom in the control booth, managing levers and seeming to talk to herself. He tapped on the intercom of his headset and the microphone buzzed slightly.

Malice responded in her fashion as per usual to her son's call. With cheer and understanding love. "Yes Cricket?" Cretin slapped himself slightly in the face and his stitched gob was just going slack for embarrassment. "Oh my Dad..." He whispered in stark petrification.

It was silly for him to feel shame in his mom's pet name for him when he was younger and still in the processes of becoming straight and whole. But still... His cotton cheeks quickly stitched out a series of red patches in just horrific embarrassment. He spoke softly and with apprehension as he resumed stirring. "Aaa-Aah Mom? I wanted to ask about... Something."
Malice responded after a few buttons were pressed again and the booth began to lower itself down to his height. She looked at him barely above the height of the booth. She started softly. "Yes Hun'? What's wrong?" Cretin mumbled. "Welldoes... Does Dad reallylove me?



Malice cocked her head again, actually getting closer to the microphone now and trying to make sure she heard the question. She repeated what she thought she heard, then played back a camera recording and amplified the volume all in a manner of seconds. Then she frowned and cocked her brow his dismay. "Of course your dad loves you! Why would you think otherwise? How could you think otherwise?" Cretin rolled his button-on eyes and shifted his stitching as he looked away in fearful dismay. "I don't know it's just... Just..." And then Gustave Spoke. "That ol' facking frak-en-stein loves you." He said rolling in his chair with drunken confirmation.

Cretin jumped up a little on one of the stairwells around the pod to get a better look inside. Gustave was BACK! Holy s**t! He was so happy to see him to be perfectly honest!

Cretin had always liked Gustave. Most of the time he felt Gustave was more of a father figure than even his dad. He felt like him and Gustave had always more in common. From spiritual beliefs to even how life should be extinguished.

But Cretin wasn't certain on his judgment in this one moment on this one subject however. Cretin asked at him through the headset. "How do you know that?" Gustave whisted his hand in the air like a drunk would be blowing away a far that he himself didn't conceive. Then he spoke with his faintest cockney accent available and wheezed himself upright long enough o deliver and answer.

"AAAAAAIiII Don't avehn fooking undah stan' you Smith Keeen Lot. Haaaaaooow Yah can be aiven que-que-questionenening his facking LAUGh-Ve is astounding. Fah you peapla to say tha' he doesn't is prepos-prepos-predisposed... Prolapse... PREPORSTEROUS. THAT'S THE WORD. He less ya' live heah. He wanted you... BORN. He wanted... A Woman to love. The faaaagct that you two are here and aliiive means that Dylan, the Dylan I know, loves you. EEEDF you was UTHA' People... You'd have been consumed long before theeees paint and became parto' tha' Clutch. He does... Love you Cretin. Maaaake ABSO-RIGGING-LUTELY sure you remember that. But he is a creature... Built on Hate. For him to COMPLIMENT ya... Means you are respected and beloved in your- IN HIS EYES."
Gustave then fell over, drunk and started snoring an ink bubble out of his right nostril.

Malice could only slap her face and laugh at him. She looked at Cretin as she would pick him up and begin to remove him from the room. "He's right son... Really. He loves us Very much. Just give him more time." Cretin... Couldn't help but shake the feeling that he was still alone. Even amongst his family. He needed... To know.
Sin Pathos's avatar

Gracious Giver

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Child Wren S Ift


Ͼ
U
R
S
Є



Curse's trek carried him along the foot of a mountain. Crags loomed over head as his boots trudged along the rocky path.

A babbling brook was laid out before him, filled with rocks and a flow of fish struggling up the stream. He looked on saying "Metaphor for life." Seemed he was admiring the beauty of it all: The forest's lush greens, the scales of the fish reflecting lights which dotted the bark of the trees, the smell of old soil unspoil't by the disquiet of civilization.

For the time being, the man allowed himself to be captured by the beauty life had to offer. And in this rare moment, he took his time to connect himself to this world... He would suit his desire to rest, and sit upon the soil and simply breathe.




"Fear this form as you would death. To force me from my vessel is to invoke his wrath. To attempt to force my end is the consent of your own."
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"To the east is Suna City, to the west is Mesta, to the north is necropolis, to the south is Shana. Those are the things I remember but I don't know how much has changed since I fought at the Mana tree in an attempt to make an imprint. I was quickly forgotten but that power I gathered there is gone now. I have to restart again I guess." The man in curly locks with the color of silver moon rays muttered to himself as he walked. He had changed to human form to be able to relax from sensing with the body of a panther. He was walking past large tree trunks now that spanned several blocks of what Mesta housing could have used to rebuild with just a quarter of a low branch. The grove's passage became clear to walk and the shape shifter had no problem with following the trail. When he got hungry he changed into a natural animal and then tricked the poor thing by becoming something bigger. When he got tired he slept in the high branches of a tree and used a roar to scare off anything that lurked on the branches with him. It was naturally an easy walk through the deepest hells of Karuru forest for a shape shifter like him. In some cases a few memories came back of some of the territory marks that belonged to creatures. He even stumbled on the mouth of a sleeping dragon. It didn't bother him since he still had the scent of the Black Wyrm of Nightmare Bog on him. To the dragon he was only another bigger dragon by smell alone and was happy to have the shape shifter walk off carefully. Finally he came across the thinner parts of Karuru forest where the two thousand year old trees fought for territory. Coming across one he smiled. "You're a child of the Jungle Elemental aren't you?" The leafs rustled in response as he closed his eyes and let his own words bring back a memory from another life. A war in Chan that brought a great kingdom to its knees and made a queen run with her children. It brought back alot of the destroyed plant life of Karuru forest at that time. The Jungle Elemental was a behemoth that spawned all sorts of rabid life for the art of war.

The man continued northeast until he finally arrived to a smaller clearing between stones, water, and forestry. Looking forward he saw a creature sitting down. Following the rules of predators the man, Neol Ren-ka Arna, ignored the ominous aura projected from the man and continued walking past. If the creature disturbed him then he would stop and if not he would descover that Karuru forest was big enough for two being that walked on legs, had a mating organ, and a territorial drive could leave each other in peace. Except Neol Ren-ka Arna could not help but keep a wary eye as he passed by.
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Gracious Giver

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Child Wren S Ift


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With his one (apparently) functioning eye closed, Curse lifted his head to a soft noise.

"Noticed your footsteps from a ways ago. I suggest introducing yourself. If that's too much to ask, I'd suggest you turn back." Curse calmly asserted himself. Unafraid of conflict, he still had a desire to relish in the moment of peace. His eye did not pry, more senses would only provide more distraction from his meditative state.

His muscles however, were instinctively primed. Much like that of a bow string yanked until the bow's arch creaked, his body was ready for combat if the need ever arose. The mind knew better, of course. To anyone watching him, he would seem perfectly calm.

From sound alone he estimated the man's size, clothing and weight.





"Fear this form as you would death. To force me from my vessel is to invoke his wrath. To attempt to force my end is the consent of your own."
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"I need to get to Yukimachi."
XXXXXXXThe man replied and took a step further to try and pass. He didn't state an intent to fight but he also did not deny it. It was that kind of world in Anadoria. The calm collected features of the man's face were lightly rose and his clothing elegant. The most distinguishing detials that a fighter would notice is the shoulder spaulder and the single sword at the hip. The personal assessments an eye could make is that the man wore the clothes of a king or great nobleman with a finesse to his movement that showed gentle grace.

The man's lack of words past a simple reply showed a hidden underside that could be carved out by force or friendliness. The man's facial expression showed a view on life as neither here nor there. He moved like clockwork as he took another step to bypass the man in an appearance that seemed nurtured by the complex life of high social life or a preparation for it. The man brushed off a few leafs before watching for a reaction from the opposing party.


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