Ze Archive - RP Samples and Muses

[AquilisNoctis]

“I warn you, if you bore me, I shall take my revenge."
-JRRTolkien
wink

Ab Mei:

Side Notes:
-I've been Rping since I joined this site in '05 (damn i feel old...)
-I'm looking for ACTIVE RP Threads. I'm really used to churning out posts nearly every day, and some of the rps i'm currently in are hitting speed bumps with IRL... ;-; I need something to get my writers itch out..
-I'm not one to majorly format posts. The most you'll get out of me are size 11 font, colored text, a side picture and a a few song lyrics that describe the character. : Formatting posts are pretty but I don't really believe in them if you have a 600x400 size of a picture for three sentences of text...
-Though I'm female, I actually like role playing guys (had to play of them growing into the RPing world because there was such a high need for males in stories, so they're easier for me to write for xD;;; ) Doesn't matter to me in the long run though.

Themes Looking for:
-Fantasy RP (Magic, Medieval, etc)
-Mythology (Dragons, Vampire/Transylvanian, Greek/Roman, etc)
-Video Game Based (Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy based, Prince of Persia, World of Warcraft, etc)
-Story Book (Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, Eragon, Harry Potter, NOT TWIT-LIGHT)
-Some Anime (Hellsing, InuYasha, Avatar the Last Airbender, etc.)
-Alternate Universes

The character classes I like playing are:
-Villains
-Anti-Heroes

Franchises/Cannon Characters:
Brown = Rusty, but really would not mind picking up

Kingdom Hearts:
Riku
DiZ/Ansem the Wise
Ansem/Xehanort's Heartless
Xemnas
Vexen
Xigbar
Xaldin
King Mickey
Maleficent
Pete
Hades
Any of the Disney Characters

InuYasha:
Sesshomaru

Pirates of the Caribbean:
Hector Barbosa

Avatar; The Last Airbender:
Uncle Iroh
Zuko
Sokka

Final Fantasy:
Kadaj

BlazBlu:
Taokaka

Prince of Persia:
Dastan

Other Cannon/Original Characters:
If you have a really good plot, feel free to send me a link or a description. Or if you really need someone, just ask dramallama I don't bite, and I can see about attempted to fill the character for you.

Circe (KHOC)
Kiro (KHOC)
Xaron (KHOC)


I WILL NOT PLAY:
I'd rather stay away from these due to moral judgment, common sense, and for the sake of my own sanity... danke~

Slave
OnexOne Smut.
Furry
Hetaila
Twilight
Anthro-Pokemon RPs
Highschool RPs

[AquilisNoctis]

Posting Type: Ad. Literate
Role Play: Verse of the Fallen - KH
Character: Circe





Cornicis Aquilis Noctis 0000000Circe



Ruffling of feathers in the light breeze, a black hawk gazed down from the roof tops. Purple eyes glaring to the scene below as a large crystallized heart floated up into the night sky. The birds tongue clicked behind the sharp beak, impressed but irate.

She should have figured as much from the children at least. From testing them out in the Pride Lands, personally having guided two of the group through the last world that they encountered. They even helped to manage defeat on of the members of her court. She half expected Zira to fail though in the end; blind from rage and anger, she couldn’t see herself breaking apart at the seams. A minute more during the fight itself, and the lioness would have turned into a Heartless herself. However falling into a river under a wall of water would do anyone in… If that would have happened she could have captured the children and spirited them off to the Underworld.
The bird’s feathers ruffled, feeling a chill start to creep up her spine. The idea of failure was not comforting. Neither was the idea that the children were getting freely stronger on their own, but now were accompanied by more members of old ghosts from another life. Organization XIII was sure to have some sort of influence over them. She didn’t enjoy the thought. She needed the children to act on their account alone, having the Nobodies watching over them would surely put her plans awry.
However, even with this, all was going according to plan. The witch, within the bird, smirked to herself. With a flutter of wings she took off into the air, letting out a screech before darting across the night sky; a shadow of feathers against the stars before disappearing in the wind like a whiff of clouds.


A portal opened within a round chamber of the Underworld. The bird fluttered through it, talons sweeping the floor length before its feathers stretched outwards through growing ashes and flames before the figure of a woman stepped through. Letting out a sigh with the changing of her forms, she glanced over her shoulder, towards the open window of her Father’s throne room chamber. Made of dark stone, the dank cave like surroundings gave her oddly a comforting peace of mind. What split second it lasted for was quickly broken by two chattering rodents that she had locked away in a bird cage that stood to the right of her father’s throne.

“LISTEN HERE YOU! YOU BETTER LET US OUT OR SO HELP ME, KING MICKEY WILL COME AND FIND US, AND YOU’LL BE SORRY, YOU OLD HAG!”

The witch froze, faint lines of wrinkles knitting her brow as she let go of a seething sigh. Old hag; two words that she should not have taken so close to heart, though for her it was a bit more personal. Having lived over fifty years of her life already it took a powerful spell for herself to appear not a day over twenty five. The appearance of an ‘immortal god’, but even being the spawn of Hades, the Lord of Dead, immortality was not her. She aged just as any mortal did, and her slipping beauty was something her vanity could not accept. If she had her way though, that was one of the many things in her life that was about to change…

“Silence, you worthless vermin,” she hissed, turning her gaze sharply on the two Gummi Ship pilots, Chip and Dale. “You’re treading over thin ice, and my hospitality can run thin. I said before I would not kill you, but do not test the patience of a god!” she roared, her anger spiking as fire danced from her black strands of hair, rings alight on her right hand, and her eyes glowing in an eerie brilliance. The sight sent the chipmunks cowering to the back of their small imprisonment.

Nostrils flared as she let out a angered sigh, and turned her back on the rodents. This wasn’t the time for anger, at least on two pests that were not worth her time. Her anger settling, she turned to the center alter of Greece that lay in the room. Waving her right hand in the air, her rings started to glow once more. Burning brightly, the glow jumped from her fingers, and came together in a swirl of a gleaming fiery frame. It seemed to be some sort of fire portal that hung in mid air.

"Violex" she said clearly, before the flames let out a crack. The flames continued to swirl before the shape of a black elongated feather. The image stayed there for only a moment before the flames gave way to another image; a group of children walking down a brick street, close to where she had left them.

Rolling her fingers on her arm, she clicked her tongue behind her teeth once more. Remembering the Organization was still in their midst, and the situation at hand was becoming problematic. She needed something to separate them... But what?

Slinking out of the floor a Neo-Shadow appeared, it's yellow eyes gleaming. She smiled softly at the Heartless. Out of all the types she managed to keep around her Underworld, the Neo-Shadows had to be the most reductive. Lanky, quick and strong, they managed to get the job done, verses simple shadows. However her smile slowly vanished when it continued to look at her in silence, a wistful anger building within its aura.

"Your kin wish for more Hearts..." she said carefully before the Heartless let out a soft hissing noise. Looking back to the portal a smirk then appeared on her lips. The heroes had followed the monsters once before to the Pride Lands, perhaps they would follow them once more to an unfamiliar world.

"Travel to a world by the name of Paris," she started in an order. "Search for one of my council, a Minister Judge. Tell him to start drawing the other Heartless." The monster nodded, before diving into the floor once more, leaving both sight and the binds of the world.

Circe smiled to herself before starting for the door. She would have to leave herself soon, but she had a few more precautions to take care of. However she was not spared from one more snap from the rodent named Chip; “Hey wait! Where do you think you’re going! I’m not finished with you!” She ignored it as the stone door slammed behind her.

Would you mind if I H U R T you?
U N D E R S T A N D that I N E E D to
Wish that I had other C H O I C E S
Than to H A R M the one I L O V E... ...

[AquilisNoctis]

Posting Type: Literate/Ad. Literate
Role Play: Bloodlines - KH AU
Character: Xemnas

| Xemnas |

Footsteps echoed on the street as the silverette stepped slowly from the shadows and into the pale moonlight. They echoed off small remnants of puddles left in the cracks of the cobbled alley. A cold air hung on his breath, as a small cloud of condensation caught the breeze and dissipated into the night. The air of the city was peaceful, but something left him unsettled. Usually by now he would have crossed paths with one of the others, or one of their dolls. It wasn't too often that he would see all members of his clan within the same night, most of which would pass by him within once every two weeks or so, but at least one would give him rumor of the others' positions, movements and intercourse. Perhaps it was of his own accord however, for taking a short time of absence to collect certain pieces of valuable information. His highest wishes were that of the others could have kept their fangs clean of danger for a few days.

God only knew they were probably doing just the opposite. The dead body in front of him was proof of this. Some part of him felt that at least a dozen more rooms would have to be prepped for incoming dolls within the castle. One or two added heads he could stand; anything to help with an ample fuel supply, but between fourteen able bodies, a few poor and easily aggravated tempers thrown into the mix, the human population would have lost up to a dozen heads. For their sakes, he hoped their presence remained unknown.

Gazing down at a lifeless body in a street side corner, he frowned, noting the two puncture wounds of vampiric canines. Kneeling by the young girl's corpse, he slide two fingers over her fear stricken eyes before examining the wound. Lips curled back slowly to the scent of blood. A heighten of senses, his own fangs glimmered in the moon light with a slight tremor of hunger, before he recomposed himself. The girl was dead, nor, luckily for her sake, undead. Whoever had fade a feast of her blood had not turned her; instead they had taken ever essence of life from her beating heart. Now still, like his own, but she had not been gifted with the curse of immortality.

It angered him though. Leaving a body in the open was sloppy. Someone was going to have to outlast his wrath, or at least that of a heated lecture, before the night was over.

"Miserable wretch," he thought aloud before standing fully once more, and started back towards the alley opening. Turning his head slowly, a few people remained in the night, but no one took notice to his movements. Fair enough, he didn't need the attention from walking away from a fresh corpse.

Looking onwards his ears caught the sound of a sharp rasp. An eyebrow arched as he turned in the direction of the disturbance, only to see a human female youth, dressed in a brilliant orange, seeming to yell to herself. He let out a chuckle to her enthusiasm, though rolled his eyes. The uproar of 'Boom's was enough to grab his attention, though from afar he could not make out more the basics. A younger, brunet woman, pacing about a two wheeled vehicle.

Her conversation itself though caught some interest. 'Save so much time,' he repeated in silence, his eyes narrowing. 'Time spent on what, I wonder?' Perhaps it was not the conduct of a gentlemen to eaves drop, but alas, nothing new of interest had presented itself.

Falling silent he focused hard on the woman's head. She carried a remote cellular device. Over the hummed engine of the bicycle, the full conversation was hard to make out. He could only pick out snippets, even with his acute sense of hearing.

'Two Target- ... Spiked red hair.

He let out a small seethe as the the brunet took off into the night. Suddenly this night became something of great interest. Within a city full of at least eight hundred innocent souls, there was one not so innocent that fit so simple of a description. One of his own. "Axel..." he muttered in frustration as the woman road off into the night. "What have you manage to get yourself into this time..." Yet, to his defense, if this wasn't the man in question, the woman could be a point on interest. Well worth a chase for a few blocks, if it meant the protection of one of the clan.




"Male facere qui vult numquam non causam invenit"000000000000
A person who wants to do evil always finds reason00

[AquilisNoctis]

Posting Type: Literate/Ad. Literate
Role Play: None (Personal Story)
Title: Male Facere


"Male facere qui vult numquam non causam invenit.”
A person who wants to do evil always finds their reason to.
Publilius Syrus; 379 Pro Ortus, Before the Rise. (42 BC)

There were crows in the dusty air of a cold afternoon. Among tall pines of old, the forest’s arms had been open to the weary traveler, giving a soft gentle shade from the summer’s afternoon rays. One could sleep in the needles all day, thinking of nothing as the branches sang softly to the wind. The northern wild had always been seen as something of a mystery to newcomers here, but to her people, the Great Forest of Germania was a symbol of their connection to the land. They lived here, said by others, like barbarians among the trees. Not taming the wild to their will, living as nomads in the earth, moving their cities from here to there; they had lived here within the heart of the forest since the days of their forefathers. They had known nothing more than the solace she had to give them.

However, today the trees gave no comfort. They groaned in the summer afternoon, shuddering with anticipation from an oncoming storm that hung on the wind like a dire wolf hunting a flock in the dead of night. The crows screamed from above, their eyes gazed down eagerly at a blood stained forest. The sound of war drums and screaming cries of pain echoed through the trees.
Hungry arrows flew from bows only to be flitted away against large rectangular shields. They braced against each other forming a curved barrier like the shell of a turtle. Like pelting water against stone, they splintered and frayed, making little effect on the ranks. From the trees, the barbarians slipped from the thick branches, keeping their assault. The enemy had caught them by surprise, but at least if they could manage to keep the intruders at bay, perhaps they could draw more time for their families to escape. One of the bowers watched from above as a sniper, poised, as his fellow men fought to their last breath among the trees. He stopped, spotting something glittering among the ranks of the enemy, moving closer with the drum beats.

On the opposing front, a man riding a white stallion drew his sword out of an enemy as blood sprayed across his red uniform. The red plume on his helmet showed his rank of honor; A Centurion of the Roman Empire. "Hostium est in Nemus! PARO INCENDIA UT SILVA!" the Centurion ordered, before pointing towards the branches above.

His men let out a bellowing cry, before more arrows followed first volley of the barbarian defense. Raising their shields together, the Roman soldiers crated a barrier, the ‘Tortuga’, the turtle, protecting them effortlessly as an outer shell. When they fell away, a flurry of flaming arrows where shot up into the high pines. Many were aimed towards the archers who had moved to sniping positions within the thick needles; the arrows that missed their targets hit bark, and exploded into a fury of fire, ash and hot oil. The exploding missiles danced along the branches. The barbarians screamed out in terror, as the fire spread quickly along the dry brush. Pine needles were enveloped in thick smoke that quickly spun throughout the branches. The snipers could not hold their positions in these conditions.

"Zurückziehen!" came an order from the Barbarian’s Lieutenant. The commanding officer strung an arrow upon his bow, knocking it quickly, and turned to fire the steel arrow head into the heart of the Centurion. The Roman legionnaire was far from the rain of chaos and out of reach. The Lieutenant guessed the other knew well enough about the tides of war to let your men handle the fighting while you could easily sit safely from a distance and call out orders. He was not a man that would fight alongside them, but even if they managed to claim this land, it would belong to the Centurion’s name alone, not the hundred subordinates who had won the fight.
The Lieutenant let out a seething sigh. Following his own order of retreat he slung his bow quickly over his shoulder and dropped to the earth. Landing hard on his ankles he rolled forwards to soften the blow, but noticed he had landed into the sights of a Roman Equestrian. Spear in hand, the horseman started to charge towards the Germanian, letting out some heathen curse. Branches and leaves gave way to the stead’s massive hooves. Steadying himself, the Germanian took his bow in hand, before he fired away a single arrow at the rider. Breaking the wind, the arrow sunk straight into the beast's heart. The stallion let out a scream and before its front legs gave away and flipped its rider. Watching the two fall to the ground, the Lieutenant scowled scornfully before turning away.

"Zurückziehen!" he called again, before pointing towards the eastern horizon, "Zurückziehen! Zufallen rücken zur strom!" His men shouted in protest before another missle exploded over head. The trees groaned in the blazing light of the fires. One of the massive pines fell to the earth as the flames lapped furiously about the dry brush. The forest was lost. The barbarians had no choice but to retreat.

Seeing the enemy scatter, a wicked smile came across the Centurion's face. Fighting these men had been all too easy. And now the barbarians had been forced into a pathetic retreat. His white stallion reared back, feeling the rider’s excitement. Letting out a laugh as his horse settled again, he wielded his sword above his head before sounding the charge:
"Pro Nex! Pro Bellum! PRO ROMA!"

[AquilisNoctis]

Posting Type: Literate/Ad. Literate
Role Play: None (Personal Story)
Title: Male Facere


Chapter 1

Water curled up the side of his legs. The Germanian archer staggered as he started to trudge through the western bank of the Rhine. He stopped looking back to the fires that were spreading in the distance on the western side of the river. The river marked the eastern border to Gaul, Rome’s gateway territory to all of Europa. For years the Germanians had feared a frontal attack from that border. From the landscape it was easier for an opposing army to invade their lands from the west than to try crossing the Alpine Mountains to the south.With whispers of war on the wing, the Lieutenant and his men had been sent here to watch the border and send word to the capitol, if need be. Their men had waited three months for the oncoming attack. It was only when they had let their guards down did the Romans unleash an ambush of riders.
The soldier shifted his weight again in the current before trudging forwards, carrying one of the wounded over his shoulder. He heard a groan pass the lips of the man floating alongside him in the water. He had a thick shaft of a tiped arrow pierced through his left shoulder. From the look of it, the missile had missed his heart by mere inches. He would live, hopefully.

"Hold on, my brother," the Lieutenant sad, as he approached the other members of his troups who were regrouping on the eastern bank.

"Thank you... Lieutenant Valkier..." the injured soldier wheezed. A small tricked of blood washed from his clothes in the cold water.

Lieutenant; that was a title that Valkier never wished for. He never dreamed of becoming some grand war hero, who could kill innocent men in battle who were only following the orders of their superiors. He would have rather settled down with his wife and child than to have been pulled away into the fray of war. However, one cannot simply ignore the summons on a King, especially when the enemy was so close to his own door step.

The Romans were great on many accounts. With the whole of the Empire to back their efforts, Roman Engineers for years had mastered some of the deadliest machines he never could have imagined in his wildest of dreams: arrows that could pierce plated steel mail, ballistae and large war machines that could launch flying machines into the air where archers could be guided along like a child's kite and rapidly fire arrows down upon you like a pelting rain. There seemed no end to their creative cruelty, but Valkier had never seen such machines before in his life. Word of these machines had only spread to him in rumors.

Valkier on the other hand, was nothing but a simple tracker. The few things he had going for him were that he knew the layout of the western lands, and he fought well with both the sword and the bow. He thought himself unable to lead men, but when he was introduced to his commanding officer at the capitol, his knowledge of the land was seen as his greatest strength. For years, With their strength in machinery and sheer numbers, the Romans were the dominant super power within the world. Romans were banished from setting foot on Germanian soil. The Germanians had always pushed them back through ambush, setting traps within the trees. The Romans knew nothing of these wild lands, and the Germanians used the wild to their advantage. Perhaps that was the reason why his people had been labeled as a Barbarian Race, either that or because of their refusal to discard their pants and be garbed in the Roman Toga.
Pulling the wounded soldier to a makeshift tent, Valkier called one of his close friends, who was shifting back and forth helping the wounded. His lightly tanned skin and jet black hair set him apart from the others. He came from the Far East, a land that the Roman Empire called Asia. Their people had their own name for the country, but Valkier had mistakenly mispronounced it so many times that the Asian had insisted in saving his home land the injustice and called it what the Romans did.

"How is he?" the Asian asked quickly, spotting the arrow shaft sticking out of his shoulder.
"It looks like it missed his heart, Jian," Valkier explained looking to the arrow shaft, moving a hand as if he were about to remove it, "He'll live, soon as we can just get this damnable arrow -"

"No don't!" the Asian said quickly, smacking his hand away. Valkier looked to him questionably, before Jian continued, reaching for a knife at his belt. "Trust not the Greeks, even when they bear gifts." That was an old proverb he had not heard in many years. It came into the world after the tale of the Greek war against Troy in ancient mythology.

The wounded soldier who was looking up at them through pained squinted eyes let out a curt laugh. "Sorry, Engineer, but I fail to see how this is a gift." Valkier shook his head before having the man lay down on his side, and Valkier fitted his palm into the other man's mouth. If the arrow didn't kill him, accidentally biting his own tongue and bleeding to death during the arrows removal very well could. Jian patted the man’s arm in answer to his sarcasm. “You’re alive. That’s more than a lot of people can say for facing Roma.”

Jian worked swiftly and cleanly as he could. The man was no surgeon, but an engineer that Valkier’s people had rescued from slavery and hired to study Roman weaponry. Out on the field, he served Germania by collecting pieces of fallen equipment, studying it, finding its weaknesses (if they had any), and if possible, creating plans of the machinery, so the Germanian forces could build it themselves. It was underhanded work in Jian's eyes, stealing the plans of another master mechanic's work and replicating it, but he could not deny the pay nor his debt to the country for the cost of his freedom.

Cutting the flesh away to free the arrow head, he carefully lifted the missile and inspected it. Valkier removed his tunic, and pressed it down into the open wound to help his arm speed up the clotting process. In pain, he man let out a seething groan. Jian seemed more interest in his new found prize that he had plucked from the wound. His tongue clicked in interest. "Nitroglycerin," he whispered in a bit of amazement. "I think I now know how they were setting the trees on fire."

"Nitro-what?" Valkier asked, half paying attention as he scanned the tent for a free surgeon.

"Glycerin... The Moors found a way to refine the chemical to become an incendiary. It's said that when the man discovered it by accident, his house was blown through the North Eastern wall of Babylon. Poor bloke lost an arm in the explosion." Valkier held back a chuckle. Jian was not one to talk, for he had lost three fingers on his left hand from dealing with foreign explosives.
Handling the arrow with care, Jian started to explain the missile’s workings. “The arrow head is stylized to stick inside of a target like those harpoons whalers use. See the hooks? If you were to try pulling it out the arrow head would break free from the shaft.” With that his three fingers carefully twisted the iron head free from the shaft. With a small pop like a cork to a bottle of wine, it came free. “The shaft is hollow. If it were to break with any force, or the arrow head would snap off due to some sort of opposing force, the liquid inside would ignite. Deadly little thing… It’s almost like planting a bomb in someone’s very skin.”
Valkier felt his stomach turn. Had he not been swatted away, they could have been sitting in the center of a fire ball.

Chapter 2

Rain started to fall on the face of the river. The droplets danced along the river’s surface, as tiny ripples cascaded along the current. Valkier watched them, a glazed look in his eyes. He was trying to keep hismind preoccupied on something other than the clattering and breaking sounds of wood both to his right and far into the forest. The wind on the storm carried it to them like the Thor’s thunder that echoed above in the cloud.

His men were at work like birds gathering seeds at the break of winter. Axes in hand, they started tearing apart the only bridge that crossed the Rhine for miles either North or South of here. It was easy enough to believe that if the Romans tried to pursue them to the river and crossed the water they could be easily picked off. Trudging an army through a strong current slowed down anyone easily enough, even upon horseback, and by controlling the eastern bank, they could defend the river.

But the feeling in the pit of his stomach told Valkier differently. He doubted whoever this Centurion was, was not that dim-witted. The sounds that echoed from the tree lines sounded as if they were building something, quite large for that matter. Possibly some war machine where they could attack from propelled objects from across the other bank. If that happened they’d be sitting duck.

A horse cried as the sound of galloping hooves approached him. One of the scouts, a man by the name of Benno, had returned. Pulling back hard on the horse’s reins the beast slowed to a trot, and Valkier stood from his crouched stature in the growing mud. “What news?”
“You were right to worry, sir,” Benno started, patting his horse on the neck as the beast breathed heavily, sounding out of breath. The scout was a younger man, no more than eighteen years of age. However old he was into manhood though, he hardly looked the part. He was shorter for his age, and still had the face of a youth. The stubble on his chin was the only thing he could claim to his current age. The boy could not lift a heavy load, string a bow, or lift an axe above his shoulders because of his stature, but perhaps it was a gift. A horse could carry him faster and farther the any of his other men, because of his size. It gave him an advantage for both travel and out running the enemy.

“The Romans have started making an encampment, not far from the fires; At least three miles east of the river. They’ve already finished building half of the encampment wall,” the boy continued with his report. "They have, I don't know, close to one hundred, maybe two, square feet of land cleared off from the forest. The men we fought against weren't alone. More seem to be pouring in from Gaul.”

Valkier frowned. The Romans were known for many things, one of which included was their speed and their soldier’s finely tuned training that allowed them to follow orders with that speed. It had only been two and a quarter hour since the attack, and they were already starting to fortify a base? Possibly a permanent encampment so close to the Rhine? It added insult to injury, knowing that to have come that far in building the wall; they were probably clearing the surrounding forest of the trees.

"How many?"

“At least five hundred. I counted five Centurions, but they're only under one banner. I think we might be looking at an invasion but something’s not adding up. They’d need a full army to take the country, not that little squalor of a number."

Valkier rubbed his brow, trying to think. The mud that had solidified on his hands from helping the others set up tents washed onto his forehead and longer deep brown bangs in the process, but looking like he had rolled about in the mud was the least of his worries.

“Alright. You're dismissed. Find something to eat. Make sure your horse get’s its proper rest as well; I’ll need you to fly a message to the others in Egon to tell them what’s happened,” Valkier ordered. Benno nodded and turned his horse to trot away to find where his belongings had been moved to.

Valkier wondered himself if he should make the report instead of the boy. Egon was nearly a league from here, but it was the closest city to the new Roman encampment. It was the town he and his mother had lived in since he was a boy, where he and his family currently were living. Having the Romans this close to the town greatly worried him. His instincts told him to head homeward on the fastest horse that could carry him and warn his family to move farther from harm’s way. However he was needed here with his men; Overseeing the destruction of a way into the country from the main road, and holding back a host with nothing more than two score of men, bows and arrows, and the Rhine to protect them. He hoped the actions of the next few days would not only come down to martyrdom.

[AquilisNoctis]

Posting Type: Semi. Literate/Literate
Role Play: KH - Kill the Hero
Character: Dastan (Disney's Prince of Persia; Sands of Time)
Main Weapons: Persian Scimitar and Dagger of Time

معظم الناس يظنون الزمن أشبه عبر النهر الذي ينبع سريعة وحاسمة في اتجاه واحد بل لقد رأيت وجه حينها, ويمكن أن أخبركم أنهم مخطئون.

‘I thought the worst of my troubles was behind me; Not even the Sands of Time could manage to unwind what had been done ...’

---

A scream came from the outskirts of Agrabah, before a bottle crashed overhead on the wall of a small tavern. A crowded huddle of fools stood aloof about as two men fought in a drunken stupor. Bobbing sharp blades that were thrust his way, a scruffy younger man looked about. Backed against a corner, he felt the clay wall knock against his side making his escape impossible. Double taking, he rolled to his side, the iron blade of a Kukri hitting the stone just inches from where he stood before moments ago.

“Outsider!” the other cried, recoiling with a wavered gate, “I’ll teach you to make a fool of-” he started before he was found dumbfounded.

Turning towards the wall, the man spun, muscles coiling within his legs as he made a dash for its surface. Taking a leap upwards he ran straight into the air before gravity started to pull him again towards the earth. Twisting his body about, the man leapt off the height of the wall, spiking his momentum downward. Reaching his hands outward, he caught the man by the shoulders before pulling his body into an acrobatic flip. His attack went flying overhead of the other patrons, before crash landing into a broken chair.

The men went silent for a moment, before the man collapsed to his knees, smiling up at them holding up a hand. “The third step is always the hardest!” he started, before the other men broke into a triumphant cheer.

Winded, the male got back on his feet as the men went back to their drinks. The chatter filled his ear drums in sounding rings as if they had never seen him pull a stunt like that within the inn. He had only managed to stay here at least a week, but it seemed every other day some ill equipped thief came his way looking to slit his throat and rob him blind. Not that Dastan had anything of real value to be had on him save a few gold coins that would manage him to keep a roof over his head for pray a month. No. He left mostly all of his treasures back in Babylon. Then again it’s not every day you expect to find yourself in what appeared to be another world completely with no glimpse of your home nor family behind you.

Nor his throne for that matter. In this nest of tradesmen and thieves he was probably not seen as their better. Dastan didn’t really care for that matter- he would have rather be treated a commoner than some pampered prince, but the idea of being a foreigner in a desert made his skin crawl. His father was ruler of the Persian Empire, a land so vast that it had covered much of the known world, from the Mediterranean Sea to the Far Eastern Valley of India. Although this city appeared to be some sort of kin to his people, no one here had ever heard of Babylon, let alone his Father or Elder Brothers. Behind their mask of excitement, Dastan had always been greeted with a curious look of disbelief, before the whispers followed that he should have been handed over to some mysterious order for questioning.

Dusting the sand from his arms, Dastan started to walk back to his corner of the room before he felt a strong hand fall on his shoulder. He flinched, before turning heel once again to find one of the towns guards looming over him. “That’s enough, Street Rat!” he yelled before something hard hit Dastan on the back of the neck. Reaching for the small dagger in his belt his hand clasped over the hilt, thumb reaching upwards to the large that encrusted the blade, before his eyes went dark.

الوقت هو أشبه المحيط في عاصفة, يمكنكم التساؤل لماذا أقول, وأنا ممن ذلك نجلس سأقول لكم حكاية مثل أي أنك قد سمعوا.

[AquilisNoctis]

AquilisNoctis
Name: Coach Philoctetes
Age: Unknown (ball parked somewhere around 300)
Gender: Male
Appearance: [x]
Height: 2’7”
Weight: 95lbs
Subject Taught: Physical Education, Greek Mythology 101
Bio: Living in his home world of Thebes, Phil was a professional hero trainer; he spent his life looking after and teach many of the greats, Achilles, Jason, Odysseus, Perseus, Theseus -- a lot of 'yeuseus’, till his retirement where he took up supervision the Olympus Coliseum. Years past until he picked up another few heroes in training, till the Coliseum was destroyed by the Hydra. After the Coliseum was rebuilt however, he finally threw in the towel to the Hero Training business before deciding to take up a simpler job of teaching.
Other: Though he is technically retired he tends to teach his course material the same way he trained heroes at the Coliseum; learning on the job and having the kids train with Heartless.
Crush: Unknown, though he is a bit of a womanizer

AquilisNoctis
Name: DiZ / Ansem the Wise
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Appearance: [x][x]
Height: 5’8”
Weight: 210lbs
Subject Taught: Physics, Calculus, Computer Education
Bio: Ansem the Wise saw the supervision over studying the building and care of Radiant Gardens. While ruling the city in its time of peace, he mostly spent his days as a researcher, examining the common processes of the worlds, happenings of the Heartless and most importantly, matters regarding the Heart. In his studies, he took in a number of pupils, ranging in ages, to guard over and help him in his studies. This was until his apprentices betrayed him.
Having been stripped of everything he had once known, his research, his pride, his home world, even his name, and sealed away in the Realm of Darkness, the man’s hatred and dark thoughts of revenge finally came to a point of snapping, earning him the ability to open the Corridors of Darkness. It was then he took the name DiZ, Darkness in Zero, for the name ‘Ansem’ had been squandered by that of the Heartless.
Years passed before he was able to exact his revenge over his traitorous pupils; with the help of Riku, the two had managed to capture the Nobodies, Roxas, and the witch, Namine, in order to restore Sora’s true power and memories. In doing so he thwarted the Organization’s hold over a Keyblade, but at the cost of Riku’s physical form. Seeing the boy go to such lengths to help his friends, DiZ started to have a change of heart.
In the final battle against the Organization, Ansem returned with a device that would encode Xemnas’s created Kingdom Hearts into mere data. The information stored in the device however caused the machine to malfunction, and exploded in a ray of light. Ansem had vanished in the process, returning back to the Realm of Darkness. He sat in wait in the Dark Meridian, losing his memories, till he was found by a female Keyblade wielder. With her help, he managed to escape the dark world, though some of his faded memories have yet to return. He reappeared in Destiny Islands, and is trying to start a new life.
Other: Most of his memories that were taken from him in the explosion were that of his old life in Radiant Gardens, before his apprentices betrayed him. Ansem has yet to make up his mind regarding the former Nobody students, wondering if they deserve as second chance at redemption.
Crush: Unknown


--------

Younger faces. Full of ambition and promise. So young and naive as they could care less about the happenings of other worlds. Beyond the few appearances of the Heartless, their lives were perfect. Secretly to himself, he wished they would stay that way.

Arms crossed behind his back, the man shook his head. Newly arriving to the school, perhaps it would have been an easier task of making a inconspicuous entrance, though the shorter 'man' to his side was all but thus. Students stared as they passed, falling short of words from shock.

"What's the matter with yous rookies?" he asked sarcastically to the mouth a gape students who couldn't help but stare as he passed. "Never seen a Satyr before?" Most of the students did a quick double take before going about their own businesses, but most continued to stare in utter curiosity. "Jesse, some people have no class. You'd think their parents would have taught people not to stare."

The older man chuckled softly to himself.
"You'll have to forgive them," he started back, turning his head calmly with a soft smile on his face. "Most of the children here barely recognize the fact of other worlds beyond this one. It's not every day that boundary is broken." To the people of the Olympus Colliseum, the Satyr would have been a common sight. However, it would have been a strange sight to say the least to see a half goat half humanoid that was barely half your height walk past. Added to the factor, the other was naked save for a whistle and a small vest clad around his chest, so there was no question to their stares.

"Yeah, well that'll change," the bow legged Satyr said running his short stubby fingers around his beard thoughtfully as they continued to walk. "When Phys. Ed. rolls around I'll have these kids working so hard they'll spend less time staring at me and more time ducking and covering. You should see the lesson plan that I have up for this week. It's sure to knock their socks clear off."

Looking back to the hallways, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "I'm sure you won't be too hard on them," he started thoughtfully in a reminder, "They are but children after all".

The Satyr simply shrugged in retort. "It's like I always say; Rule LV: No pain, no gain," he said putting a finger up into the air, as if to prove a point, but then caught himself. Being in the hero training for so long, he stopped for a moment and wondered maybe if the other had a point in that he should rethink some of his lesson plans. Surviving an obstacle course with pitfalls filled with Heartless might not be the best thing for day one. "Nah, they always bounce back. Kids are quick on their feet and quick to learn. And if not, I'll show them the ropes," he continued with a confident smile. "I better head back to my office though," he started again more absent mindfully, "They guys should be done moving all of my supplies into the gym by now too, and if they scratch the pain on any of my trophies they'll have something coming to 'em. See ya round, teach," he said finally before trotting away. A hoof still in the air, he stopped short turning about. "I never got your name by the way."

The man nodded respectfully as the other started to leave, before he stopped short himself, pondering thoughtfully. "DiZ," he started finally in a reply, holding back a hint of silent pain. Before he could explain it, he simply turned towards the direction of his own office. "It was a pleasure speaking with you, Philoctetes."

"Eh, call me Phil," he said back in a reply with a quick nod and a wave goodbye.

[AquilisNoctis]

Phil's list of Rules:

Roman Numerals:
I = One
V = Five
X = Ten
L = Fifty
C = One Hundered

---

I Everybody needs a hero.
II Nobody cares about a zero.
III Use your head.
IV Your trainer is always right.
V Heroes don't make excuses.
VI The bigger they are, the harder they hit.
VII When rescuing a damsel, always handle with care.
VIII If it was easy, everybody would be doing it.
IX A good left is always right.
X Watch your footwork.
XI Heroes are never mediocre.
XII A hero is known by his enemies.
XIII Some are born heroes, some achieve hero status, and some have heroism thrust upon them.
XIV Never hit below the belt.
XV Don't turn your back on your foe.
XVI A hero is only as good as his weapon.
XVII Don't be a sucker for a pretty face.
XVIII Learn from your mistakes.
XIX Keep circling.
XX The greater the risk, the greater the prize.
XXI Always take the full count.
XXII Control your strength.
XXIII The road to hero status is paved with "also-ran"s.
XXIV Don't get cocky.
XXV Never look back.
XXVI Your shield is your best friend.
XXVII Don't rest on your laurels.
XXVIII Keep your eyes on the prize.
XXIX Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.
XXX Analyze the situation.
XXXI Failure is not an option.
XXXII Never hit a man when he's down.
XXXIII Second place is the first loser.
XXXIV He who fights and runs away is no pupil of mine!
XXXV A hero who won't be beaten can't be beaten.
XXXVI Heroes take chances.
XXXVII Don't start anything you can't finish.
XXXVIII No knot unties itself.
XXXIX Duck!
XL Just being a hero is its own reward.
XLI Don't panic.
XLII The best defense is a good offense.
XLIII Not every damsel is in distress.
XLIV Anticipate.
XLV Sheep get sheared.
XLVI Take time to do the job right.
XLVII Every enemy has a weak spot.
XLVIII There is no "try."
XLIX Face your fears.
L A quitter never wins and a winner never quits.
LI Act, don't react.
LII Expect the unexpected.
LIII Never do anything halfway.
LIV Lead with your left.
LV No pain, no gain.
LVI Watch your back.
LVII Be prepared.
LVIII If you look like a hero, you'll feel like a hero.
LVIX Speak softly.
LX Carry a big sword.
LXI The greater your agility the greater your ability.
LXII With great power comes great responsibility.
LXIII A hero is always on duty.
LXIV Keep both eyes open when you shoot; you'll see twice as well.
LXV Compromise is for suckers.
LXVI It's either education or elimination.
LXVII Play by the rules.
LXVIII I make the rules.
LXIX Just do it!
LXX Cheaters never prosper.
LXXI Put the past behind you.
LXXII Outwit, outfight, outlast.
LXXIII A hero is more than a sandwich.
LXXIV Don't barge in without thinking.
LXXV Don't stop for applause.
LXXVI The difference between a champ and a chump is "u."
LXXVII Never say never.
LXXVIII Pressure makes diamonds.
LXXIX There's always a bigger fish.
LXXX Never take your eyes off your opponent.
LXXXI A hero never forgets his public.
LXXXII You gotta stay focused.
LXXXIII It's not about the trophies.
LXXXIV You can't be a hero on an empty stomach.
LXXXV Giving up is for rookies.
LXXXVI The harder to get, the better to have.
LXXXVII Never let 'em see you sweat.
LXXXVIII Keep pushing that envelope.
LXXXIX Heroes are made, not born.
XC Nice guys finish last.
XCI No guts, no glory.
XCII The three most important elements are training, training, and training.
XCIII Stop, look, and listen.
XCIV When the going gets tough, the tough get going.
XCV Concentrate!
XCVI Aim!
XCVII A hero is just a regular guy with the right coach.
XCVIII Be fast or be last.
XCIX There are no shortcuts.
C You're always in training.
CI Go the distance.

[AquilisNoctis]

₳₪₰Ҙ₥ the ᴪӀϨѮ / DiZ

Do you know what your fate is?
And are you trying to shake is?

Action here
'Thought Here'
"Speech Here"

You're doing your best and your best look
You're praying that you make it...

[AquilisNoctis]

000000000000 Φιλοκτήτης

0000000000000000000000000000000000000 My answer is two words -
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 O.K.

Action here
'Thought Here'
"Speech Here"

Oh gods 0000000000000000000000000000000000000
Oy vay!

[AquilisNoctis]

Xigbar


Today, it's in the air again today, another incident that just went off
No way, this time I will not take blame, its pretty obvious who needs to shut up


Action here
'Thought Here'
"Speech Here"



Ashtrays filled with the fruits of our transgressions, here and there sarcasm overflows
Do stay, I'll need this sitcom to be re-run till I get the gist of just how it goes

±±±±±±±±±"Rambling? As if!"±±±±±±±±±

[AquilisNoctis]

Today, it's in the air again today, another incident that just went off
No way, this time I will not take blame, its pretty obvious who needs to shut up

Action here
'Thought Here'
"Speech Here"

Ashtrays filled with the fruits of our transgressions, here and there sarcasm overflows
Do stay, I'll need this sitcom to be re-run till I get the gist of just how it goes

"Rambling? As if!"