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 Posted: Sun Jan 26, 2014 7:56 pm
 Favnir
Class: Berserker | Bloodline: Draconian | Rank: Novice | Str/Spd: 12/8 | Nation: Rogue | Energy: 550/550 | Clothes: Casual Clothes and Boots of Narathos
Favnir nodded in agreement "true, I need to expand my knowledge of martial arts" he said to the man. He though for a moment "so I have given you my name, what the hell is yours?" he asked.
Used-
Battle Theme:
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Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2014 1:38 pm
So, this was Spwoon Fort. It had the silliest name of any military academy, especially considering it was in such a dark and ominous city. When he returned to Aramil, whether that be when this current generation lies dead, or the sun crashes against them, he would make sure to name his own academy Fwork. That was his life's ambition, though he wasn't here to fulfill that. He was here to research, rediscover older and more important things. He remembered a tale -- he met Eklopyter, off in that southern town that was only barely shrouded by the night. He told West of Lukhan, and how he had come to live with him. He told West that Lukhan was their father, and that he loved them and desired for their mental and physical health.
Being a demon, you could imagine that this man was quite cynical. He didn't believe everything he heard, as what others told you was almost solely for their own benefit. Even if of good intentions, they would not bother unless their own interests were to be achieved in some way. An interest of his -- a reason he came here -- was to pursue his own agenda. He looked deep into the city with his spyglass, or you could say his Sin, the difference miniscule. He saw that there was an energy here that was like his -- demonic, to an extent. It wasn't quite as pure or genuine. That was exactly why he wandered off to go find it. Diabolus were a lot like him. They were crossbreeds, children of demons and walkers of the mortal-planes. While he'd come past that, there were others still stuck behind. Maybe they could be helped. Maybe they could help him. It was unknown.
His inquiry right now was to find whether other races of demonic crossbreeds, like Dreadnoughts, Diabolus, even Vampires... whether they could all come to the same point he did. A discovery like that could be revolutionary, though he didn't want to offer its usefulness to one like Kala; West didn't dream of extinction and darkness, but of life and liberty. Ironic for a dweller of Hell, but a sentiment many of them shared. He dreamed of a world where Kala didn't mean anything, nor did Makath. He wanted a place where demons could wander around and do whatever they wanted, in chaos and without any rules or guidance. It was an anarchic goal, strange for someone who'd spent his life learning how to control the weak. It just showed that so many people were often forced to live a way they did not love. Another reason for him to fight.
Within a short amount of time, he had already made his way to the demonic halfling; he stood eye-to-eye in front of him, eclipsing his vision of Favnir. West didn't mean to sit idly and exchange tiny glances like some passerby. He was here for a motive. "Hey," said the demon. Not the most articulate start, but it was a way to catch his attention. "You're that famous . . . diabolus, right? I've heard a lot about you." A smile grew fondly to his face. "I'm West." Offering a handshake, he continued. "I'm new here in Nocturne, and I'm something of a mutt myself. I was wondering if we could converse, between the two of us, about you. Somewhere more private. Nothing weird, I promise. I've just got a hunch that I have some songs to sing that you'd like to hear." He wasn't very forward, not at all. He found that people grew more interested in your words if you didn't reveal them too quickly. Plus, there was no need to share his secrets with those not involved.
He didn't bother trying to seduce Greed, as he wasn't here to get the demon's lower half. He was here to get some . . . field experience.
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Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2014 10:14 pm
Greed
The Devil's Advocate • Rank: expert
• bloodline: Diobolus
• Class: Berserker
• currently equipped: Bottom right picture, Nocturno
• feeling:
 Feared
Exalted
Evil?  The dragon could not see it behind the aswirling abyss, but greed's vermillion eyes narrowed in a glare that could make one drop dead, the muscles in his jaw clenching as tightly as his fists did for a moment. The effect was deminished, but it was still satisfying to throw it. Some people just did not know how to take hints. This is a training zone, not a bar. I'm here to learn, and train others. not socialize. The demon sidestepped his interrogation, it was a fair question but Greed didn't care much... he was growing vexed. "Look, I asked if you wanted help, not if you wanted to play twenty questions. I have plans in a lit-" hey.The demon's tone broke from it's sarcasm, taking on one of genuine disdain before he was interrupted. He turned to face the new voice, and his look of disdain took on one of slight surprise, his eyebrows raising at the energy level his demonic sight detected from this being. Greed's features were still obscured by the enchantments of his clothing of course, so how this guy even knew who he was was beyond him. Greed was far from famous... maybe for being a sarcastic and quick tempered drunk, but you could usually tell that just by talking to him. The look of annoyance quickly returned though, but the demon wouldn't interrupt him, simply allow the man to finish spinning his web. He seemed rather good at conversing with people... something that was nice, if you were interested in making friends. West wouldn't get grilled nearly as bad as favnir did, but greed couldn't help and make a few jokes at his expense."Alriiighty. Nice to meet ya West. As badly as this famous Diabolus would enjoy giving you an autograph and coming to the private press coference you have reserved just for me, I have a fiiine a** date in like... holy s**t, 30 minutes." He said, before turning to favnir and shrugging. "Well... I gotta go. I'd say i'm sorry, but I would be lying." he said in a sympathetic tone dripping with sarcasm, before bright vermillion lightning crackled underneath his feet, lifting him in the air before he rocketed towards the door. The demon slammed right through it, his iron hard hide protecting him from any real impact. Any trace of his crimson red energy aura would dissipate and vanish as soon as he was out of the door, energy completely snuffed out lf existence, almost as if the demon had faded into oblivion. Red would probably be pissed off that the door broke... but she'd probably blame it on one of the new guys, so that wasn't Greed's problem. What was his problem, was the fact that he hadn't seen his significant other in over a week, and it was making cranky. Plus, he had not stopped wondering what surprise she held for him ever since the note his divine paramour had left him was read.
- exit
((used: Lightning rider, chi block)) Theme song • Strength: 12
• Speed: 7 (tail has a speed of 9)
• Energy: 1400 "If you don't give me what I want, this might be rather... messy." 
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Posted: Tue Jan 28, 2014 9:05 pm
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
hamwashere
hamnote
Staring out with the same characteristic bored expression on her face, she watched the scene unfold. Why was a royal guard famous? Who freaking knows since he just seemed to train himself and others, or drink. Perhaps that is what the rather inquisitive man meant. Greed was famous for smashing into houses when he was plastered. Or even breaking doors like he just did, he was like a bull in a china shop. Still, she gazed at the two with disdain.
She would rise, walking towards the now open hole in the doors and stood beside it, as if she were an arrow to a destination.
"Rogues require the approval of either the Captain, or the King, to join a nation and train under its military. If you wish to socialize, I would suggest the plethora of bars, not here."
A small smirk picked up the corners of her maw but the warmth never reached her cold, dead eyes. Hopefully, they'd get the hint. If not, hey, some people were dumber than a box of kid's crayons.
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Posted: Tue Jan 28, 2014 11:04 pm
Favnir
Class: Berserker | Bloodline: Draconian | Rank: Novice | Str/Spd: 12/8 | Nation: Rogue | Energy: 550/550 | Clothes: Casual Clothes and Boots of Narathos
Turning his golden oculars upon the woman Favnir sigh due to Greeds departure "am I to assume you are the Captain?" he asked her. He turned towards her "I wish to stay untied to an military only working as a mercenary, am just in need of help from a Sensei" he said to the woman.
Used-
Battle Theme:
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Posted: Tue Jan 28, 2014 11:11 pm
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
hamwashere
hamnote
"Ah-HA! No, I am not. You would be looking for a feral woman if the Captain is who you seek."
Twix shrugged, offering him no other help.
"I'm afraid we don't offer our services to outsiders. Perhaps you'd have better luck with another nation?"
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Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2014 9:07 pm
██████████████████ █████████████ █████ ████████████DEMON BLOODXXABYSSAL WRAITH XXXD e m a c u sxx㊋xxα z ι σXXX↷ I N S A N I T YxxI SxxMYxxH A V E NxxO RxxMYxxH E L L ?xx█ █ ⇓XXXX lightxxDARKxx↘↘xxEVILxxgoodXXXX
✪✪XIxxk n o wxxw h a txxmust be done.xxIxxw i l lxxn e v e rxxs t o p . . .xx s t o p ...xx s t o p ...  XXX± : A D E P T : ± : N O C T U R N ExxW E A P O N M A S T E R : ± : 9 0 0 ll 9 0 0 : ±▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄瘋▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
Demacus had stayed in his unstable for a moments as the newcomers to the area started to move in. His hand slowly slid off his faceplate as he looked over them all wondering what in the goddesses' name called all these being here. Maybe sacrifices, maybe tests, maybe just mere food. This would not concern him for the moment as he knew that his work was far from done. His body was not yet ready for true combat, still untrained compared to those at his level of strength. The diablous would soon pay little attention to those around him as he moved towards the greatsword he had pludged into the ground only moments ago. The longsword and the shield that burden him once was now tossed to the side as his left gauntlet wraps around the handle of his weapon. Pulling the blade out the ground with mighty force, Demacus swings the blade out slowly shouldering the blade. The clang of metal was a welcomed sound to the demon...
[1/1] Going for the text that he had used only moments ago, Demacus quietly looks over it he noticed the next series of moves for this style was pretty basic but would have great power behind it. Laying down the text, next to his shield, the diablous would simply take a tighten grip on his blade before taking a heavy step foreword. The sheer strength carrying the blade would soon move the blade into a downward slash soon to make impact with the cold ground before it. The impact itself making a carter before him, this being from the sheer move itself and the ungodly strength behind its wielder. This was simple enough.
Learned Buster-Two Handed Requiem Style
[1/1] He never had to go back to the text to start working on the next move, do to the similar nature of both. Swing the blade back on to his shoulder both gauntlets would take hold of the greatsword. Firmly grasping it, Demacus takes a C-step foreword swinging his large weapon across from shoulder to shoulder with energy sparking across the blade as he did so. It would seem to be a simple booster when it came to strengthening the strike itself. Shouldering his blade once more Demacus would head back to check on the next series of moves.
Learned Cross-Slash-Two Handed Requiem Style
[1/1] Demacus had looked over the text slowly as he started to figure out what the next series of moves would play out. Placing down the small text he grips the mighty blade with both hands. With a firm grasp Demcaus would start a steady charge foreword before launching off the balls of his feet into the air. Swinging the blade down before him, the massive blade would shift foreword as he pierced the cold ground before him. He would never feel the quake that strike had caused but others around him soon would. Pulling the large blade from out the ground he soon scoffed at the sheer simple nature of these strikes...
Learned Royal Stab-Two Handed Requiem Style
[1/1] Demacus would only take a moment to rethink the next move on the list for this style. This next one required only a few moments to go over in his head but in all honesty it was rather simple. Keeping hold of his blade with both hands Demacus would step forward launching his blade straight through the air. As the ghost would move away from his first strike, Demcaus would lift his blade back up with his left gauntlet. This circular motion would start to come back round once more as he step forward once more slicing through the air easier than the time before. Swinging the great blade upwards once more he shoulders the weapon and sighs. Easy enough.
Learned Twin Moon-Two Handed Requiem Style
[1/1] The next move on the list for this style was one of the more simple moves he had learned the whole day. All it had seemed to be was from what he looked over was him using the blunt side of his blade to disarm his foe with ease. It was a rather easy concept to understand and he would never need to really relearn this too much.
Learned Relinquish-Two Handed Requiem Style
[1/1] Demacus did not take long to look over the next move on the style with this one being a bit more different from the rest. The whole move set seemed to revolve around quick powerful slashes. Gripping firmly to the handle of his blade, Demacus steps foreword slashing downwards with his mighty blade causing the ground shake as impact was made. His blade only toke another moment as he swung it behind, quickly spinning off the balls of his feet to slam his blade down once more into the cold earth,. This would finally come to a halt as he spun once more bringing his blade up close to his side, slamming his left foot down and lunging the blade into the air. Slowly finishing up this stab he shoulders this weapon once more with a faint sigh. Easy enough.
Learn Outrage-Two Handed Requiem Style
[1/1] Demacus was getting rather bored with all these simple strikes, he could honestly come up better ones in his sleep. The text would start to show him the next two were not too bad but honestly they were still pretty basic in his thinking. Tossing the simple text to the side Demacus had gotten bored of this and had wished to move on with the sheer bull. Gripping the blade firmly in his left hand Demacus charges foreword and launches him self into the air. As he went through the air his right foot would smack down into the ghosts chest bring it down only for him to follow up with his blade launching downwards into the ground planning on breaking through the ghost. Quickly pulling the blade from the ground Demacus would jump from his spot bracing foreword as he held his sword to the side. A dark aura covered the blade as he started to grip the blade tightly in his left hand. Pulling back the massive blade, Demcaus would twist foreword launching a massive swing foreword, with only a large crescent of energy to explore outwards. That would quite useful for sure...
Learned Feint and Energy Slash-Two Handed Requiem Style
[1/1] His great blade would be sent into the ground as he started to grab his text once more. Diablous blood takes practice to control but Demacus already knew how it was to control demonic blood. First on his rather long list was the ability to hide his demonic features... which honestly was not that big of a deal. His dark aura would soon cover his armor as from the inside the tail and his horns would disappear from sight once more. Demacus would appear human once outside the armor but there was no use trying to hide what he was.
Learned Deception
[1/1]Demacus honestly was getting sick of having to keep this pointless training up. Hissing under his breathe as he could feel the energies strengthen around him he knew that he would have to do this right now. Next was unlocking his demonic energy to where he could summon his full power. Closing his fists tightly the heat around him started to build up violently before it began to sudden to stop. All this was him priming the charge when he was ready to use such a skill on something.
Learned Demonic Guardian
[1/1] Demacus had started to move away from everyone, the raw energy building up more and more as he started to go over the next skill he would have to learn. Hell's Ramparts was perfect for him when he was ready unleash all sorts of hell on his fools. The Diablous had started to close his eyes and close his fist tightly once more as he tired to find something to trigger this energy to just explode. There was no memories, no past, just what has happen so far, nothing to grow enraged about. A small chuckle would echo in his mind as it would go on to a voice. "Sorry bud. Your not the strongest anymore.." His eyes snapped open from behind the face plate as roared in rage and the energy ignited around him. It was only for a moment as the energy would soon fade and the anger would fade with it.... That voice...
Learned Hell's Ramparts
[1/1] His mind would start to wonder faintly away from the task at hand as he looked for the next skill on his list. That voice... why was it so familiar, why was it so god damn annoying! Shaking head of the thought he would start to focus this violent energy into the palm of his left hand. Using this voice to fuel the rage that was building inside of him. Trident of Luicfer, was the name of this weapon and it would be used to its fullest. Opening his palm only slightly the energy started to build with in it and sudden the burst forth. Forming a strange spear of energy, Demacus did not take long as he Launched the trident into the air like a bolt of lightning. He did not know why he had to get rid of it so quickly but the anger started to leave him much quicker... maybe it was just his mind slipping again...
Learned Trident of Lucifuer
[1/1] Gripping hold of the helm on his head he started to lose control of the desption that surround his form. His horns forming from his helmet and his tail slowly crawling from his legs. A dark groan escaped the helm of the diablous as he started to move foreword. He had to keep working, no need to get distracted. Charging foreword The diablous would only take few meters before spinning on the balls of his feet to unleash a few slashes with his tail. Raising his left foot up, he would stomp the foot on the ground and stop himself. Easy and simple.
Learned Mark of Satan - Baphomet
[1/1] Demacus would snarl darkly as his energy went through his form once more. That voice only saying the same thing." ...I'm the strongest... I'm The strongest" The tail started to whip violetly as the energy went surging into it and soon was launched foreword. Extending out like a spear the tail would go into the air only to stop and wrap around in a spiral. This skill would seem to atleast would keep his target pinned while he was stabbing the hell out of it...
Learned Serpents Grasp
[1/1] Demacus would not stop as his tail was now ignite by the flames of his aura. His rage only building as he tried focusing on what skill was next. The tail had retracted as he started to go over it in his head. Satans Whip... it was like before but allowed him to unleash black flame whips. Easy and simple enough.
Learned Satan's Whip
[1/1] The diablous did not have time to keep up with these mind games that played out constantly. His black flames would swallow his gauntlets as he would summon the great element within his body and begin his training. The wave of his right hand a ball of fire formed inside of growing violetly. Glancing towards the sky the diablous would launch it into the air with great effort watching it fly upwards. It would only be a few more moments before it would seemingly come back down to him, weighted by his own energy as it arced back. Waiting for it to come back into range once more, the Diablous would simply swipe the flame away with his right hand. The movements and the energy flowing through his body seemed so fimilar as he started to spark flames at the edge of both his hands. Jet like touches formed where embers once drifted. Swiping them a few times in the air the diablous would soon force them to morph into large orbs of fire. Grasping them both firmly in his hands and sent them flying into the cold air before him. This was too easy, all the fire flowed through his body like the blood the flooded his veins. Why would other have trouble with such things when it had seemed to be second nature only to him. His hands were covered by the fire once more as he started to move the energy through his body. Flicking his wrists out the flames would extend into whips of some form. Rolling his wrists he would flick out the whips before him, getting the feel to the motions that would follow when using these. It would only grow in strenght as they extended out more and thier size grew in his hands. Flicking them against the ground the diablous felt at home with the element. Stepping foreword the diablous would spin and swing wildly towards the sky above him launching spinning arcs of fire. Growing as they got distance Demacus seemed to come increasing amused by the show forgetting about the voices only for a moment. Smacking both gauntlets together the diablous thrusted them both foreword unleashing a stream flames before him. Throwing them both to the sides he would force them into a more controlled state as they formed blades in his grasps. In a quick stance he would send a fury of swipes in the air getting the feel of the flames in his hands. It would only be a few moments later as one of them would flow to his feet and the other around his knucks. Sending a few kicks and punches into the air the diablous could get the feel of the fire in this manner as well making everything that much easier to control. Finally the fire would form into his hands and he would lobe one last ball of fire into the air. The other would be waved in air forming a barrier above him ready to block the incoming blast. As it all ended the diablous had sighed, falling back on his bum.
Learned All Fire skills up to B
The Diablous was far from done with his training and he knew this, meaning he could not sit for long. He had taken a long enough break from his weapons and it was time for him get moving once more. Taking hold of his greatsword and longsword once more the Diablous slowly moves over to his text to see the next series of skills. After taking a series of moments to finish up, Demacus tosses the text to the side and begins to mind-numbing process of training. First was the Dulled Edge and The Sharpen skills, which only required him to use his energy to make sure that the blades were either better cutting through or being nice and not killing. Simple enough to know and do. Sending energy into each blade he would reproduce these skills in the two. Next was Empowering where he would basically make his blade hit harder, simple and easy no reason to waste energy for sure. Phantom Edge, was a different story. The basics of the skill was increasing the lenght of the blade just enough for the target not to see it coming which worked perfectly fine for him. The energy would surge through the longsword only, knowing that many would worry about the range of his greatsword when they would fight him. Easy enough to control with the energy he had been using all day. Altered edge was surely not worth his time at the moment, easy to turn off and only the dull edge. Weapon tossing was using your great strength to destroy all those in you path but this time at a distance. Grasping the longsword tightly in his grasps he would launch the blade into the straw dummy not only thirty feet away. Easy enough for sure. Keeping hold of the greatsword he understood the next skill was dual wielding such weapons, but to be honest with his sheer strength his c**k could a third weapon for him to use so it did not matter. Walking up to the lonsword once more, he grasped it firmly before ripping it out of the dummy and finally swiping it clean of straw. The earth would soon float up to the longsword blade covering it slowly while the greatsword was comused by great black flames. Infusing his elements into the blades made things that much easier and it gave him that much more to work with. Sheathing the longsword on his hip, the weaponmaster would go the next step and slowly begin to force his energy into the form of a greatsword in his hand. Such a weapon as this was easy enough to copy in his mind, and even better to have when ever he needed a blade. Dispelling the blade Demacus finally moves on to the next stage of sharpening, Razor's Edge. The ability to cut much easier through metal made everything that much better, no longer would he have to worry about adding enough force. With his sheer strength he could cleave anyone like butter. Lastly Demacus had taken his greatsword and planted it into the ground, as it stood straight up in the ground he slowly slid down the metal of the blade and rested against it. His knees bent closer to him as his arms rested on the plating. His energy would slowly morph into the blade reinforcing it once more... making it even stronger as he rested quieted on his corner of the caz.
Learned All Weaponmaster skills up to B
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄瘋▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ strength ◤12◢xxxxspeed ◤6◢ ██████████████████ █████████████ █████ ████████████ Layout Ⓒ iZann
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Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2014 2:43 pm
xxxxxxxxxx┫Ａｌｉｓｔａｉｒ Ｍａｒｉｃ┣
"I SPEAK TO EVERYONE IN THE SAME WAY,
WHETHER HE IS THE GARBAGE MAN OR GOD HIMSELF."
"AND I CAN FIGHT ONLY FOR SOMETHING THAT I LOVE,
LOVE ONLY WHAT I RESPECT,
AND RESPECT ONLY WHAT I AT LEAST KNOW." xxx☠ ☠ ☠xxxＲｅｓｐｅｃｔxxＳｈｏｕｌｄxxＢｅxＥａｒｎｅｄ，xＮｅｖｅｒ xＧｉｖｅｎ ！xxxx☠x☠x☠  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXHybridxx㊋xxNinjaxx㊋xxMasterxx㊋xx King of Nocturne Respect is something gained.x x x
Though if mutual,x x x
it opens the door for eternal friendship.x x x
Upon arrival, Alistair noticed quite a few things. The first being that there was an incubus around. A powerful one. Incubi, even a weak one, was trouble. Their race generally loved to start needless trouble and drama. Once they felt betrayed by their lover, they would often rage on for days. But the race of the being wasn't what bothered Alistair. It was the fact that this person was most definitely not a soldier of this city, yet he was trampling on the Luimirian Military training zone. It was perhaps one of the only laws enforced in the city: for a citizen not involved with the nation's forces to enter military soil under any circumstance. The city itself had its own few police factions to handle petty city crimes so the king didn't have to waste resources doing so.
It wasn't just the Incubus though. There was also the very same Rogue Draconian that came here several weeks ago, asking for assistance. Alistair the boy no. His answer remained unchanged. "The next time I have to force someone out of this restricted zone, they won't be leaving our gates alive. Neither of you are a part our this nation's military, nor are we accepting foreign recruits. We don't need either of you. Leave this area before my guards force you out." Since Red wasn't here, he'd remain for the time being.
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"The strong survive."
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Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2014 4:39 am
From the moment she was a little girl until now, Isis had always despised this place. Living by the tower, she could remember the border to Nocturne being close by, with all of the vampires and werewolves coming in and out, passing through her town and making the people uncomfortable; she could remember the Elves and their high stature, as well as their great apathy, the Kiranu and their smileyfaces and the wiggling of their tails. All of them had something interesting to them, but never fearsome. It was the people of Nocturne who would always make her want to hold on to her mother's skirt. And so she did, and her mother protected her each and every time they came by. Eventually though, after being tainted by the emergence of the sins, she did not need her mother's help any longer. She'd become strong enough to deal with these creatures on her own, although West at her side was always a reassurance. Together, they vowed to start a new life together, and together they knew they did not need to fear the creatures of the night.
So she did not fear them now. Alistair, she could remember seeing his face plastered onto the evening paper; or at least a side-shot. She could remember hearing of him, his reputation. He was not the most beloved, as like many other werewolves, he preferred to rule by fear. She could recall Raphael, back when that was even who he was, talking about the way Fenrir liked to run things. He liked to assert his power globally, stomp out the weeds that had grown. Raze the ground so that no more could take root. The lady wondered if, by some chance, Alistair would be the same way. If that was the case, then she would speak softly rather than as an aggressor would. This was not her home nation, and she knew that. It was not her place to be noisy, only her place to defend West. And to defend him in a more meaningful way than simply fighting for him when the time came. She was to defend his interests, and right now, his interests were being compromised by a man, and a woman, who wished to command him.
"You threaten quickly," she said. That was an observation that came to her very easily, as within the first sentence he offered to West his death. She understood. It was a very Lumirian thing to do. However, it was also very demon-like to bite back. Isis herself wasn't much more moral than a demon or a Lumirian, being practically ruined by sin. She was whatever she knew West wanted to see. Though honestly, with his changes, she couldn't be sure if he wanted to see Alistair bleed or smile. "Though the fangs from which you threaten seem a little dull. I'm sure you're aware that my friend here is quite powerful. More powerful than you, honestly. And so I ask you whether you believe he really cares about your threats?"
In this world, and especially in this city, power is everything. Alistair knew that, West knew that, Isis knew that. Laws were only enforced through power. If the one breaking the law was stronger than the enforcer, then the crime would go unpunished. For West, a man who dreamed of liberty, situations like this were to be laughed at. He could only hope to be free to go wherever he felt like. He didn't want to threaten anyone or even cause even one ripple of negativity in any direction. All he asked for was the privilege of experiencing things at his own pace. Of course, it was not within societal reason to expect that. There would always be enforcers, like this one. There would always be threats. It only came to his own discretion as to whether he cared or not. So, he asked himself as Isis did, what did rules really matter in this situation?
The answer was difficult to come by, but considering certain outcomes would follow indecisiveness, he decided to be adaptable. "Strange to see someone so influential swatting off trespassers by the corner of a mutated spoon," he said. He tried to start simple, as he often did.
The demon did not desire to fight or feud. That was not in his nature. He only wanted to please others, and himself. He wondered if he could manage to invoke even the faintest grin from this supposedly gritty man. It seemed like a challenge, though not an impossible fight. He'd probably done steeper in his life, if only he could even recall. "I'll do as you ask, My King, and leave without trouble. I won't raise my fists. At one request, though. I'd like to talk about . . . you, Alistair. I enjoy learning about people, face-to-face. I could probably read about you in some article, but there's no fun in that. Even the simplest of cravens could do that, and I am no craven. This opportunity is too rich for me to avoid." He made no implications of what would happen if his request was denied. That could be assumed in one's head, as he enjoyed things open to interpretation. Most likely, though, he'd just stay. Chat around, even if that meant chatting with the guards that would be chasing him down. He was sure he could outrun them, no matter how fast they were.
It was all just for a semblance of entertainment. West would not let fear rule him, as many others did. There were some that were forced to leave this place by probably this same man, and with the same threats, and they fled. The demon didn't really consider himself to be on their level. "How's leading Nocturne so far? If I recall correctly, the reign of the previous monarch didn't last long or soar high. I can only imagine that living in a nation loaded with friends who are also enemies, and enemies who actively seek to kill you, can be hard enough. Must be a real killer to try and get them to work with one another. I commend you." It was a real killer to lead any nation, honestly. He could recall a large part of his life being thrown into that bucket. Though Alistair became a King by decision, not because he was forced. That must've meant that in this stoic man, there was something that needed fulfillment. Lust for money? Power? Fame? Glory? He could only imagine, and wander into the enigma that was Alistair Maric.
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Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2014 11:33 am
xxxxxxxxxx┫Ａｌｉｓｔａｉｒ Ｍａｒｉｃ┣
"I SPEAK TO EVERYONE IN THE SAME WAY,
WHETHER HE IS THE GARBAGE MAN OR GOD HIMSELF."
"AND I CAN FIGHT ONLY FOR SOMETHING THAT I LOVE,
LOVE ONLY WHAT I RESPECT,
AND RESPECT ONLY WHAT I AT LEAST KNOW." xxx☠ ☠ ☠xxxＲｅｓｐｅｃｔxxＳｈｏｕｌｄxxＢｅxＥａｒｎｅｄ，xＮｅｖｅｒ xＧｉｖｅｎ ！xxxx☠x☠x☠ XXXXXXXXXXXXXXHybridxx㊋xxNinjaxx㊋xxMasterxx㊋xx King of NocturneRespect is something gained.x x x
Though if mutual,x x x
it opens the door for eternal friendship.x x x
It was obvious that the man thought that his Captain would be here, in the CAZ, otherwise he wouldn't have come inside in the first place. Now that there were people here, trespassers no less, he was stuck here. It would be something he and Red would have to talk about. The woman had several guards at her disposal, so why was she going out personally? He supposed her method of training was different than his. She liked to get personal with every student. Alistair liked to single out a single person and teach that one person his personal techniques. That person would go on to teach the others. It was what he did with Red. But he was not longer the captain. Red was. This building and everything in it, as he told her, was hers for as long as she was the captain. Even the desk, a desk that had been replaced several times due it it's terrible location, was hers.
But as he glanced at the desk, he saw something wrapped. Perhaps it was a gift for Red. *I guess the soldiers love her.* But as he approached it, he saw the small label attached to the gift. It was simply labled with eight letters, all in caps. 'A L I S T A I R'. A gift from him, on Red's desk? Perhaps it was from her? Even so, he had no idea why she didn't just take it to the Estate instead of hoping that he'd seek her out in the near future. Even before he picked it up, he nose picked up a strong scent of fresh leather. To any normal person, it probably would have been a little sickening, but Alistair enjoyed the scent. It reminded him of the jacket he gave to Red. When he picked it up, he easily ripped off the gift wrap to reveal a familiar jacket. It looked like his other one, but he knew it was new. There was also something different about this one. It felt different, durable... Without thinking twice, he slipped on the jacket, smirking at the thought of having his leather jacket back.
But even his new leather jacket wasn't enough to distract him from the fact that there were still trespassers in his training zone. It would have been extremely easy for Alistair to dismiss the woman, making him shadows force them out of the area, but there was no point. The woman was right in saying that the Incubus was stronger in power than Alistair. The fact that his strength was so vast only meant that his rank was higher than Alistair's, and the only rank higher than Master was Sage. A sage ranked Incubus was surely something to fear. There was no doubt about that. Vast amounts of energy. Vast array of skills. The ability to seduce people, to immobilize in battle. It should be enough to scare anyone away should they hear of an Incubus coming. Yet, Alistair couldn't care less. His eyes fixed on hers, "It wasn't a threat. It was promise. Your friend is powerful, there is no doubt about that. But this city... it's mine. You and your friend are at the heart of my city and my kingdom. Afterall, I am King Alistair. I'm guessing you and your friend are used to using your power to frighten others. But In Luimira, we don't cower from individual power. We aren't so quick to make the same mistakes as our predecessors, who were all too proud to remember that they were soldiers in a military, not mercenaries who acted on their own account.. When we fight, we fight collectively."
When it came to personal desires, Alistair had very few. When he wanted something, he'd obtain it. It wasn't a thirst for fame, objects, or power. That was not what he wanted. It was easy to say that Alistair didn't really want anything. Not anymore. There were responsibilities and obligations that he enjoyed. Training and seeing others grow stronger, making this nation stronger. That was what he 'wanted', if one simply could say that. It was because of this that Alistair remained resilient from the majority of desires and needs. "The last monarchy was a joke. Every leader must rule with a mixture of fear and respect. It is for this reason that the city has thrived since I took power. Living in this nation is easy. My 'enemies' know not to attack me simply because they are both too afraid to and they respect me too much as a king. They know well enough to put aside petty personal differences. So if you really want to know how ruling Nocturne is for me... it's easy. The city was so damaged that everyone accepted my ascent to power, with a few exceptions. But even they are now cooperating." It was something that he didn't think would happen, but many could not argue that Luimira was thriving. Not his friends, not his enemies, and most certainly not his soldiers.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
"The strong survive."
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 3:19 pm
 Kumori The Shadow Magistrate ╔══════════════╗ Kumori entered the Combat Assessment Zone area as he noticed a few people already. One of them was a very known man in this area, but Kumori had no idea who it was as he entered the building. He could sense a familiar energy source coming from an incubus and the lady before he shook his head and moved over to the seat. He said nothing, had the right to be here at the Combat Zone, and had only a few things in his mind. The only one that swirled around and cursed his body & soul, was improvement. That one fight, the only fight he has had against anyone, was tainted with a sin and he needed insight on dismembering that one sin to get to the host. He merely gritted his teeth to try and calm himself down, which worked for the most part before he looked up to the ceiling. It didn't appear as much as a medium for his kind, it didn't hurt, but it was there as an annoyance, to which he shook his head at. He decided it would be best to sit in comfort, than to be sitting well-armed while he was waiting, taking off his Stainless steel equipment, including his shurikens. He took off Miza and rested her on the wall beside him before he looked forward to notice an idiotic mercenary dragon who wished for training when he was beyond all help. His own presence gave Kumori the indication that he wasn't even related to this country, especially because of his cloth. He looked to see the Lady and Man trying to antagonize a more refine appearing man. He took a look at the man that the Lady was with, feeling the same overwhelming energy as when he did back when he was just a Novice rank. He decided to look to the doors of the training room, getting up and opening them to take a look inside. He noticed a man at his work and decided to get to a standing position as he went inside the training area. He looked towards the armored man there as he left back to his seat to gather up his equipment, coming back inside afterwards. Once inside, he looked to the man named Dem and crossed his arms slightly. "Hello there weaponmaster." He called out to the man, taking his name from the plathera of equipment he had on him. (Techniques: ) Main Equipment: Miza Sub Equipment: Stainless Steel Rapier, Stainless Steel Katana, & Stainless Steel Shurikens Side Equipment: Stainless Steel Shield. Energy: 900 Strength: 7 Speed: 5 S.E.: Communicator Red Visor Theme: Bag: ╚══════════════╝ "Miza! Now you will know true terror!" The Shadow of a Legendary man
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 8:52 pm
██████████████████ █████████████ █████ ████████████DEMON BLOODXXABYSSAL WRAITH XXXD e m a c u sxx㊋xxα z ι σXXX↷ I N S A N I T YxxI SxxMYxxH A V E NxxO RxxMYxxH E L L ?xx█ █ ⇓XXXX lightxxDARKxx↘↘xxEVILxxgoodXXXX
✪✪XIxxk n o wxxw h a txxmust be done.xxIxxw i l lxxn e v e rxxs t o p . . .xx s t o p ...xx s t o p ... XXX± : A D E P T : ± : N O C T U R N ExxW E A P O N M A S T E R : ± : 9 0 0 ll 9 0 0 : ±▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄瘋▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
It had been an all day training session for the diablous as he sat that their quietly against his greatsword. It had been a workout that would leave most humanoids passed out, but this was something the Diablous felt like he was used to or in the least mentally used to. He would take this moment of rest to quietly take in all that had been going on around him. His teacher had moved on to others whilst he trained, the diablous from before had entered and left. These had seemed to be normal things one was to expect from the military training grounds. His deception had returned in time for more beings to enter the halls and begin their pointless speeches. All had wasted their time with words rather than work, wasn't it what this place was for? Work? Nocturnal, in her everlasting glory may have landed him in the wrong place it would seem. The pressure from two beings were almost frightening, not in the place of sheer strength but in the refined tamed aura that they all held back. Demacus would take this peace and quiet to ease drop on those around him. The Diablous and the one that had entered, West from what he had picked up on. This west being had brought in some female whose scent made his nose set a blaze. It was too sweet of a scent for his taste but it was a female, they were always strange in what they find appealing.
His attention soon moved to the man that entered only moments after this west being. The whole aura about him made Demacus cringe, where he could respect the commanding presence he gave it was something else about the man that had him on edge. No point keeping his attention captured on the man for now, he felt they would meet some time in the near future. Bowing head only for a moment the diablous would seem to drift off in to a moment of slumber. It was a nice calm in the storm of his mind and the world around him but said this calm would last long as a voice called out to him. The faceplate of the diabolus would rise towards he direction of the voice, his crimson eyes hidden behind the metal would stare at this being. Looking over him he seemed to be that of higher birth, clean clothes, nice proper staure, and the features the mold his face. The rubbing of the steel plates would faintly be heard as he lifted his left hand off his knee and points faintly. "....High Birth..." was all that would escape the lungs of the diablous as he looked up at him. The body was working better sync with the soul but nothing was perfect...
The Voice of Demacus
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄瘋▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ strength ◤12◢xxxxspeed ◤6◢ ██████████████████ █████████████ █████ ████████████ Layout Ⓒ iZann
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 9:15 pm
Kumori The Shadow Magistrate ╔══════════════╗ He kept his eyes on the weaponmaster as he seemed way less talkative than Maria, someone he liked. He kept watching him as he first showed him no interest, that was until he called out to the man. Just by his appearance alone, not even needing to take in his aura about him before the man pointed to him. The voice of this man seemed distorted, hollowed, and full of echoes. It felt as if he was just a walking suit of armor, which would make most humans shudder at his presence. But to Kumori, it only made him grin as he looked as he called out his kingdom rank, back in the shadow realm, he was a high birth. "You are correct..." He said before showing the back of his left hand, his mark of the prince. "I wonder how you could've guessed that." He said before he looked to the place and was contemplating what to learn, soon thinking he could use some work with his shield. "So... I take it you are here with a plan, correct?" (Techniques: ) Main Equipment: Miza Sub Equipment: Stainless Steel Rapier, Stainless Steel Katana, & Stainless Steel Shurikens Side Equipment: Stainless Steel Shield. Energy: 900 Strength: 7 Speed: 5 S.E.: Communicator Red Visor Theme: Bag: ╚══════════════╝ "Miza! Now you will know true terror!" The Shadow of a Legendary man
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 9:38 pm
██████████████████ █████████████ █████ ████████████DEMON BLOODXXABYSSAL WRAITH XXXD e m a c u sxx㊋xxα z ι σXXX↷ I N S A N I T YxxI SxxMYxxH A V E NxxO RxxMYxxH E L L ?xx█ █ ⇓XXXX lightxxDARKxx↘↘xxEVILxxgoodXXXX
✪✪XIxxk n o wxxw h a txxmust be done.xxIxxw i l lxxn e v e rxxs t o p . . .xx s t o p ...xx s t o p ... XXX± : A D E P T : ± : N O C T U R N ExxW E A P O N M A S T E R : ± : 9 0 0 ll 9 0 0 : ±▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄瘋▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
The faceplate shifted faintly at the response the being had given him, he did not know if he should be angered or interested. The diablous did not take the time to let the man respond as he started to inch left hand back to the guard of his greatsword, lightly grasping it as he keep his attention on him. His mind slowly went through the process of breaking him down more. The weapons on his person suggested that he was a warrior much like himself but where was his symbols of Nocturnal? This question would soon be answered by the being starting to move his left hand around to show him a strange symbol branded on his flesh. This cause another shift in the metal plates would be heard as his legs began to move under him and his right hand moving down on the ground before him. What symbol was that on his hand? The faceplate would keep its attention on that now rather than the rest of him it would appear. His questions were unawnsered as he the diablous would do something rather frightening as he moved with one great motion, swinging the the greatsword from the ground with little effort in his left hand. The motion would only last a moment as it would stop only a moment before reaching the beings torso. His right hand would drift out towards the man's left hand. His voice would tremble in the air as it was surprising soft once you got past the echoing of souls. The Diablous would try taking hold of the hand only trying to look over the mark as he said "...Nocturnal..?"
The Voice of Demacus
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄瘋▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ strength ◤12◢xxxxspeed ◤6◢ ██████████████████ █████████████ █████ ████████████ Layout Ⓒ iZann
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 10:28 pm
Kumori The Shadow Magistrate ╔══════════════╗ He felt the man's intrigue before he moved his shield from his left arm to his right arm. He didn't dare move as it would cause failure in the man's movements towards Kumori. He allowed him to take hold of his left arm, to let him get a closer look to his mark of the shadow prince before he looked to the man. "You could say that... it is the mark of the Shadow Prince, something that Shades of Royal blood can possess when they reach their time of personal training." He told the man before he soon looked towards the greatsword that was almost at his torso. "Mind moving that down please?" He stated while smiling at the man, it was to ensure the man before him that he means no threat to the area. "I see you favor the greatsword as well huh?" He asked the man before he removed Miza from her sheathe with his left hand and let her fall tip first into the ground, the weight piercing the floor. He soon moved aside to let the man take notice of Miza's appearance and her own unnatural aura. (Techniques: ) Main Equipment: Stainless Steel Shield Sub Equipment: Stainless Steel Rapier, Stainless Steel Katana, & Stainless Steel Shurikens Side Equipment: Miza Energy: 900 Strength: 7 Speed: 5 S.E.: Communicator Red Visor Theme: Bag: ╚══════════════╝ "Miza! Now you will know true terror!" The Shadow of a Legendary man
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