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 Posted: Tue Dec 28, 2010 2:05 pm
Username: Angeles Valentine RPC name: Angeles Valentine Your rank: Trainee Summon's Name: Alexandria Rank: A Strength: 8 Speed: 9 Summon's Pic:  Description of the summon: Angeles found Alexandria out in the wild all alone. Angeles was cautious at first, but the foal could barely even move, her mother no where to be see. Angeles thus lifted the filly into her arms and carried her to the nearest town, where she purchased a mare to suckle the baby. When she was healthy enough Angeles took her away and immediately began to train her. The bond of trust that formed between the two went without measure. There is almost no command that Angeles will give to Alexandria that she will not obey. Full grown, Alexandria resembles a draft horse with eight legs; a sleipnir. She is pure white in color with blue eyes. She sports a long mane and tail, both of which Angeles ties up in preparation for extended travel. She is rather intelligent, extremely loyal to Angeles and is awfully affectionate and playful. As a warhorse Alexandria is trained to fight, and is apt to with a body riddled with muscle and solid hooves the size of dinner plates. Her loyalty to Angeles dictates that she fight whenever Angeles fights or whenever Angeles commands. She understands a complicated language invented by Angeles consisting of click and whistles. But fighting is not her greatest feat. As a sleipnir, Alexandria has the ability to traverse any terrain; mountainous, desert, prairie, even through the air and over water. It’s rumored that a sleipnir can even travel to the afterlife, but naturally this has not yet been proven. RP sample: Angeles looked on at the nature spread out before her. The sun was high, and it hurt her slightly, but she ignored it. Her jade-green eyes reflected the lush growth of the world. Trees grew over the edges of a field below the hill on which she sat. In the distance the blue water of a river shimmered like the scales of an azure serpent. Spars bushes here and there dotted with white blossoms attracted brightly colored insects which fluttered lazily on the warm breeze. The world was not silent; her ear caught a low buzz of other, unseen insects. The leaves of the trees rustled against each other with stronger winds above the small valley. She could faintly hear the water running below, the loud roar no louder than a whisper from where she was. An ambiguous smile rested on her lips. What thoughts rested within her mind, no one could tell, but then again no one was around to guess. She had been sitting there for a while, having lost track of time after being caught up in the sunrise. The moment the sun had broken over the horizon and flooded the land with gold Angeles had stopped and sat on the grass. It was well past noon now. The entire world in front of her was at peace. It was all shattered in a moment. A rough bump to her back sent her toppling forward, sending her rolling down the hill, grunting and sputtering. She eventually caught herself, stopping her descent flat on her stomach. She lifted her head, her hat having fallen off sometime during the fall, and her unshielded eyes laid upon an eight-legged horse galloping and bucking and tossing her head. Angeles’ lips thinned in a hard smile, her brow furrowing as she pushed herself up and walked up the hill. The horse whinnied and snorted, as if she was laughing. Angeles stopped and folded her arms as the horse circled and trotted up to her. She stopped a short distance away and looked at Angeles through bright blue eyes. Angeles tapped her fingers against the bicep of one arm before she smirked, her fangs exposed; white as pearls. She crouched down with her arms spread slightly, giving the animal a sense of no escape. The white animal stiffened and hopped to one side, then ran to the other, the vampiress following her movements, shuffling from one side to the other then turned and making a grab for the animal’s tail as she darted past, kicking up soft dark earth and grass. Angeles laughed and the equestrian began to buck again whinnying playfully. Angeles chased after her, even though she had no chance of catching her. The horse’s eight legs carried her away faster than Angeles could breathe. The vampiress eventually stopped and leaned against her knees to catch her breath. The white horse turned and trotted back towards Angeles, who tilted her head up to look at the horse. Again she stopped a short distance away and looked down at the woman. Angeles inhaled deeply, and exhaled with a sigh. She then smirked and launched forward, snatching at her snout. The beat reared up in surprise, neighing loudly and kicking her four front legs. Angeles darted back to avoid the massive hooves as the horse came back down to earth, and darted forward and caught onto the mare’s mane. The horse again neighed in surprise and began to gallop off. The white-haired woman tried to keep up with her, running beside her, but there were periods of time when the horse was just moving too fast and her boots left the ground. Eventually though Angeles let go of the mane and stumbled forward, the horse turning on a dime and bucking out of reflex as Angeles made a grab for her tail. The vampire went sailing through the air and landed hard on her back gasping as the air left her lungs and was still. The horse turned and stopped, looking over at where Angeles lay on the ground. After a few moments of quiet, the horse flicked her tail and slowly walked over to where the woman lay. She snorted and bent her head to the woman’s chest, rubbing her upper lip against her shirt to see if she would move. She nickered when there was no response and moved her nose to the woman’s smooth brow. Her breath moved the lighter hairs across Angeles’ marble skin. The animal nudged the vampire’s head which rolled to the side with no resistance. The horse snorted and stamped her foot against the dirt and nudged her again. The vampire’s eyes opened only as slits and the iris rotated to look at the horse. She nickered and snorted, then whinnied as Angeles threw her arms around the animal’s thick neck. “Good girl,” she cooed and the animal snorted. Angeles stroked her fur, “good girl Alexandria.” Angeles released the horse and moved back to her spot, giving two short whistles and the white beast followed. The vampire bent and lifted her hat from the ground with a sight, grunting slightly in pain as she bent back up. Placing the hat on her head after dusting it off Angeles lifted her shirt. There was a large dark horseshoe shaped bruise on her ribs just below her breast. With a sigh she put the shirt back down and moved over to the tack. Alexandria followed and stood still as Angeles fitted her blanket over her back, followed by the saddlebags. The saddle was placed on last and Angeles slowly and carefully synched up the bindings and belts. Her halter was fitted on next, the horse rotating her ears to allow the leather item to fit easily over them. Angeles finally fitted the large bag of belongings onto Alexandria’s rear then stood up into the stirrup and onto her back. She sighed in relief once she was in the saddle and bent to pet Alexandria’s neck, but stopped as the pang of her ribs forbade it. She sat back and instead patted Alexandria’s rump, receiving a grunt from the horse which shifted her weight to her two back left legs. “Let’s get going,” said the vampire and Alexandria took off, building up sped to a gallop down the hill. Angeles leaned back in the saddle to keep balanced, sitting back up once they were on level ground. Alexandria took off across the plain, not even halting at the river and instead ran right over it as if it were solid ground. Only small droplets of water were kicked up in the same way as soil and sand would from beneath her hooves. She got to the other bank in no time and continued straight to the mountain. Angeles leaned forward as they hit the incline, Alexandria’s hooves all but carving their own path up the face, not even sliding on the loose stones, all of her eight legs moving together to keep balanced and stable. It took only a while before they reached the crest of the mountain. Alexandria’s muscles all gathered as she bent for only a second, then leapt into the air. But she did not come back down. Moving her legs as if she were still galloping, Alexandria ran through the air, the heavy wind tossing her mane and tail, as well as Angeles’ hair and coat. The vampire smiled at the sight ahead and below her. They would be home soon. Do you like pie?: No.
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Posted: Thu Dec 30, 2010 5:02 pm
RPC Name: Angeles Valentine
Rank: Trainee
Talent Description: A contract with death. This talent connects Angeles to the Deathwhisper allowing her to wield it despite her low rank.
Talent Weakness: Angeles can only use the Deathwhisper as a weapon. Any attempt to pick up another weapon results in the Deathwhisper attacking her instantly.
How did the character get this talent?: After her husband’s death Angeles was completely distraught. For months she did nothing but mourn. Time very slowly ebbed her pain away. Centuries passed and Angeles thought herself to have moved on. That was when she stumbled upon a sleipnir foal. After saving the animal’s life she began to train her, waiting until she was old enough to ride. Once the moment came that Alexandria broke under Angeles’ will the horse knew almost instantly the sorrow in her mistress’ heart and suddenly took off towards the horizon. Angeles held on tightly as the edges of her vision slowly became black until she could see nothing at all. Alexandria stopped then and all was still, silent and dark.
Crimson eyes then illuminated through the darkness, and a shrouded figure stood before them. The creature spoke in a tongue that Angeles did not recognize, but could understand nonetheless. It asked her why she was there.
“Where is here?”
The underworld, the afterlife, it had numerous names and Angeles felt within her an odd sort of hope in her heart. Her grip on Alexandria’s mane tightened only for a moment before she slipped from the animal’s back and touched down. It was not ground she was standing on, she could not tell what it was, for she could see nothing except for her mount and the shrouded figure. She explained that she had lost someone, and that she had come to retrieve him. The creature laughed. It them told her that those who had died would remain where they were supposed to. Angeles was furious, and Alexandria beside her could sense it. She demanded, begged, pleaded, raved but the figure would not relent.
Then Angeles attacked it. She had no weapon, no skill, but she charged anyway. From inside the cloak the blade of a scythe emerged. The figure was no more threatened than if a balmy breeze was heading its way. The scythe stabbed Angeles through the gut and halted not only her body but any idea of ever retrieving her lost love. As she collapsed Alexandria reared and made her own charge. Death dropped his weapon in surprise; the horse was a little more of a threat.
The sleipnir then grabbed Angeles in her mouth and hoisted her up, turning and fleeing from the receiver of souls. Back she ran until the darkness was gone and all scent of death had vanished. Angeles awoke afterwards with a dagger in her stomach. She pulled the weapon out and looked it over, vaguely recognizing it as Death’s weapon. Why he had not retrieved it she could no understand, nor did she know. She kept wary for many years until eventually she stopped looking over her shoulder, deciding that Death must have many of the same type of weapon, accepting that she was the new master of this one.
Sample: See Deathwhisper sample. Will add if needed.
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Posted: Sat Jan 01, 2011 12:24 pm
RPC Name: Angeles Valentine
Rank: Trainee
Class: Assassin
Element: Fire
Weapon Name: Deathwhisper
Type: Various
Description: A strange weapon to say the least. Nothing is known about its origins, its creator, or even what it even is exactly. In its most basic form it appears to be made of a sort of a very fine metallic dust that is black in color with no true shape. However, it holds within it a dark secret and a darker intelligence. It has a soul of its own, and feelings all its own, and desires of its own as well. If the dust is permitted, it will coat an object for a certain amount of time. It will then fall away from the piece and make a copy of it in with its own demonic flair. Its loyalty is undying; it knows who its master is and serves it diligently, never failing until its master is dead, and then it selects a new master to serve until their death, gaining knowledge as time passes with each new hand that holds it. It is, however, a jealous little tool, and a weapon that its wielder tries to hold is attacked by the Deathwhisper and disintegrated by the dust.
In technical terms; the Deathwhisper is a weapon that can be any weapon that it has come into contact with. It starts out with the forms of a dagger, a bow, a short sword, a long sword, a claymore, a flail, a staff, a two-ended spear, a double-bladed sword, a scythe, a whip, a battle ax, and a buckler blade.
To gain a new form, the Deathwhisper must be presented to a weapon. It will then coat the weapon and proceed to copy it. The copying process can take anywhere from one post to five depending on the size of the weapon it is copying, so obviously, the owner of the weapon being copied is either willing, unconscious, or dead. There is no subtle way to secretly copy a weapon. Once finished, the dust will fall away and reform into the same sort of weapon, but not an exact replica. Abilities of the weapon it copies are not copied, only the form of the weapon. The energy cost to copy a weapon is equal to an A-rank skill (100).
Being made of dust, the Deathwhisper cannot break, only disperse, to which it will immediately reform into the form of the dagger. It takes three posts for the Deathwhisper to reform after breaking, during which it floats around the air like a fog. However, to keep it in a form requires energy. If the holder of the Deathwhisper runs out of energy, the Deathwhisper falls apart into dust, only able to reform once the energy of the wielder is regained. In addition, it takes energy to shift the Deathwhisper from one form into the other. The amount of energy it takes is equal to a C-rank skill (50).
The Deathwhisper is connected to the energy of the wielder. As such, it cannot be stolen unless the wielder is dead. The wielder has the ability to ‘summon’ the Deathwhisper (out of someone else’s hand, from where it was thrown, from being left somewhere etc) as long as he/she/it has the energy to do so. The cost to summon is the same as to change its form; it will always be summoned in its dagger form.
Projectiles for projectile weapon form is made from the same material as the weapon, but follows the limit per rank of normal projectiles. In addition, projectiles fired from the Deathwisper are always counted as normal ammunition. After being fired and hitting a target, the projectiles will disperse and return to the main body of the Deathwhisper.
Though switching weapons drains the energy of a C-rank skill, the drain is sudden, almost surprising. It can only be switched twice within a post or risk sudden feeling of feeling light-headed and possibly losing consciousness.
Sample: Angeles had been engaged in conversation with the kindly warrior sitting across the table from her. She was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, leaning forward with her elbow propped on the table, and her chin set on her hand. A victorious smile was on her crimson lips as she looked at the young man through her verdant eyes. His katana was leaning against the table beside them, out of its sheathe, entirely black as night itself. It had been a simple challenge; a battle of wits. One that she had easily triumphed in, leaving the samurai deep in consideration of his own views, and her prize was that sword. After a while, the warrior gave a defeated sigh and opened his eyes. Angeles’ smile broadened only slightly more.
“I see that you are right,” the man said, Angeles moving to a more restful position in her seat, leaning back, uncrossing her legs and folding her arms. A single eyebrow ascended as the mother sighed again and moved so that his elbows were propped up on the table and rested his forehead against his hands, “this changes everything.”
Angeles stood from her seat and moved to the sword. The black of it suddenly fell away from the blade, leaving a rather regular looking sword behind. The black then fell to the floor, moving of its own accord until it formed a similar looking blade, entirely black. This blade Angeles lifted and held in her hand with a satisfied smile, and she patted the warrior’s shoulder, “I will see you around. I enjoyed our banter.”
“Wait,” said the warrior and Angeles looked at him, “what is it that you think?” he asked, honestly curious, “do the ends justify the means?” Angeles blinked her jade green eyes, and only smiled in response.
The samurai turned as she left, watching her back as she slipped into the crowd with the ease of smoke and was gone. She moved through the crowd easily, weaving through the people without touching them until she finally came to where her horse was tethered. She cooed at and nuzzled the horse who nicked in greeting. Angeles smoothed down the fur of her neck and gave her praise, then pulled herself up into the saddle.
They made their way down the road they set out upon, riding away from the town, and continuing through the crimson light of sundown and into the bluish-black of night. Just as the moon was rising in the east Angeles pulled on Alexandria’s reigns. The white horse stopped, stamping one of her hooves against the ground only once, like a judge bringing down his gavel.
The two figures remained there for a moment, a pale rider in dark clothes upon a mount almost glowing under the light. Green eyes moved over to her side, to the edge of a forest several yards away from the road. Whoever was wandering around there were definitely not assassins, but that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. Alexandria turned her head as well, her ears rotating slightly to catch the sound before tossing her head and snorting. With a swish of her tail she started forward again, slowly. The horse could feel the tensity in Angeles’ legs. Something was wrong, but Angeles wanted her to go forward.
All eight hooves barely lifted off the ground as the horse moved forward, a smooth motion considering the amount of legs the animal had. It was almost exactly one agonizing minute of silence and the only thing moving was the horse and rider. Then there was a soft thwack and a small whistle and an arrow sailed through where Angeles had been. Alexandria reared at the sudden loss of weight on her back, and above her the vampiress hung in the air for just a second, her coat spreading around her as she drew the Deathwhisper katana from her back.
Several figures flashed out of the trees, all sporting weapons meant for killing. Angeles landed on the ground just as Alexandria settled down, a cloud of dust rolling past Angeles’ boots. Alexandria anticipated the fight, shifting her weight between all of her legs, her neck arched, the muscles well defined through the fur, her mouth was held open and her neigh echoed eerily across the grass, reaching the group of seven men, their eyes reflecting the moonlight in an almost unnatural way.
“Werewolves,” said Angeles calmly to herself, shifting slightly to stand a little straighter, the same sort of knowing smile on her lips, “what business do you have with me?”
One of the men stepped forward, “tax,” he said, leaning his axe against his shoulder. Each of the werewolves had a menacing-looking weapon. One of them had a bow; an arrow already notched.
“Tax?” asked Angeles, her tone amused, tilting her head to one side, causing her white hair to spill over her shoulder, “I’m afraid you’ve jumped the wrong helpless woman. I have no money.”
“Then your life will pay for it, vampire!” That was all the talking that needed be done. Angeles ducked in anticipation of the werewolf’s arrow, rolling over the ground, gripping the handle of the Deathwhisper tightly. The others advanced at once, only the archer staying behind, readying another shot. Angeles stood to her feet directly, using the momentum she gathered from her roll. She brought the katana down upon the wolf directly in front of her, slicing him neatly and he staggered backwards, chocking slightly as she had nicked his throat.
The wolf was then immediately stomped down into the ground by the white warhorse. Angeles turned to the next one in line, letting Alexandria finish off the one she had claimed. There were far too many hooves for him to dodge. The katana, though she knew of its prowess, was awkward in her hand. She had no training with the weapon whatsoever. So with a simple thought the Deathwhisper became lighter in her hand, and the black blade went limp to the ground.
Angeles drew her arm back and the whip coiled behind her before she struck it out. The ax of the leader was suddenly dragged to the ground mid-swing. Angeles drew back again and the whip wound itself around the wolf’s neck. Angeles clicked and Alexandria was suddenly there. the vampire stepped up into the stirrup and looped the whip around the horse. Alexandria took off running, the wolf, who was grappling at the whip, jerked forward and found himself dragged behind the horse. Ever so slowly, the man was losing air, not to mention the rocks that he was only narrowly rolling from side to side to avoid.
Angeles looked back and grinned, her coat billowing out to the side as she watched. Then suddenly a wooden shaft was sticking out of Alexandria’s shoulder. The horse screeched and faltered, almost falling. Angeles twisted the whip and it uncoiled from the wolf. Angeles pulled the horse to a stop, only partially listening to the coughing of the wolf as she jumped down and inspected the wound. She looked back at the archer, who had his remaining shots stuck into the ground, already readying another one. It was only the two sets of muscles that kept the arrow from her heart, but she was bleeding badly.
Angeles did not hesitate, turning and smacking Alexandria on her rump. The horse ran, limping slightly on the wounded shoulder. Angeles turned to the werewolf. He had transformed, and the beast snarled at her, fangs exposed. In her hand the Deathwhisper changed again, turning into a longsword. She lifted the tip from the ground and held it in both hands. The werewolf charged and she swung upwards, severing one of his limbs, but he didn’t even flinch, swiping her to the side with his remaining paw.
Angeles hit the ground and twisted her body, flipping off her shoulder and to her feet in a crouched stance. The wolf came towards her again, snarling. As he ran past she stepped forward, swinging her sword and slicing the wolf’s head off. As the others began to charge the Deathwhisper changed again. She needed something faster. In her hands the Deathwhisper changed to the two-ended spear and she spun it around. As one wolf past she stabbed him; it was only a flesh wound, penetrating only a few inches deep. She also stabbed the two other wolves that past, only one was fatally wounded, the end of the spear severing the artery in his chest.
As he collapsed to the ground the Deathwhisper changed again into an ax, swinging from the highpoint it started at and cleaving the forth wolf’s head in half, splitting it from the top of his head to the nose. Angeles flipped over the already falling body, wrenching the weapon from his head. The moment she landed though an arrow pierced her chest. Her eyes widened for a moment before looking down at the dark wood of the shaft. Her hand reached for it. Only now did she recognize the type of broadhead the archer was using and she cursed herself for not giving him enough attention.
She broke the shaft off a few inches from her flesh and turned around, the hold on her ax already weakening as she faced the remaining three wolves, bleeding slightly from their wounds, looking at her trough glowing eyes. Putting her other hand on her ax she spread her feet and anchored herself to the ground. Her eyes hardened, and then she smiled. The three wolves came at her. The nearest one to her felt his shoulder slide off his body before his back was pierced with the spike-end of the ax, penetrating his heart. The one behind him got the blade of the ax straight into his chest.
Angeles wrenched the ax away from his body, bits of flesh and meat stuck to the blade as the crimson blood flowed down the black blade. In her hand it changed into a bladed gauntlet that went through to the wolf’s heart as he impaled himself upon the weapon, unable to halt his momentum as he was charging the vampire. She heard the crack of her arm beneath the wolf’s weight and she held it tightly as the wolf fell before her.
That left only the archer, and she turned with a grim smile then froze. The wolf with the grievous wound in his chest was still alive, and a puff of mist flew over her face as he huffed out his rage. Angeles blinked, then cursed under her breath. The wolf grabbed her and threw her away. She landed hard on the ground, crying out as her broken arm was jarred. It hurt, even though it was already trying to heal. She struggled up and turned around, and on her arm the Deathwhisper crumbled to the ground. She cursed again and looked up at the charging wolf. She ducked as she heard another arrow cut through the air and turned, rushing past the archer and into the trees.
The wounded wolf followed after her into the trees, following the scent of her dark blood through the foliage. Outside the forest the archer kept an arrow prepared. He kept his ear open, listening to the two figures running around through fallen leaves, dead grass. After a moment there was only one set of footsteps running around, back and forth as if lost. Then there was the sound of a scuffle, snarling and growling until something fell, and all was silent and still. Only the scent of blood permeated through the stagnancy of the night. The wolf looked through the trees, but it was too dark to see. His gaze moved back and forth down the line.
Finally his ears caught footsteps and his gaze immediately jerked over to where it was coming from.
“Jaurron?” asked the wolf and there was no answer. He lifted his bow, pulling back the string and taking aim. Angeles emerged into the white light, dyed crimson from her mouth down. She smiled, her fangs gleaming on her lips, her eyes the same color as blood. The wolf fired the arrow, Angeles moving to the side so it moved past her. She moved her hand and the black sand lifted from the grass and flew to her grip in the form of a dagger. She then moved her arms and was holding a bow of her own. A single arrow notched on the blade. The wolf snatched up another arrow himself then suddenly, black arrows riddled his chest. The wolf choked, then gagged, blood fountaining up from his mouth.
Angeles lowered her weapon as he fell to his knees, then fell forward, the arrows dissolving into dust. The vampiress gave a final sigh, putting the bow on her back and wrenching the arrow from her chest. The wound very slowly began to close. She moved past the carnage and gave a weak series of whistles. A neigh in the distance was the response and soon Alexandria came limping back. Angeles petted and soothed the animal, grabbing the arrow in her shoulder and wrenching it out swiftly to cause the least amount of pain.
Alexandria buckled slightly, but remained on her feet, lifting her injured leg from the ground, leaving her with seven to work with. Angeles shifted and hauled up into the saddle, grabbing the reigns. Her eyes slowly faded from red back to green as she gave a few clicks of her tongue and the horse began to move slowly forward towards the west.
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Posted: Sat Jan 01, 2011 12:25 pm
Rpc Name: Angeles Valentine
Nation: Nocturne
Rank: trainee
Bloodline applied for: Vampirism
What you know about the bloodline: Vampires require blood to utilize the skills specific to the vampire bloodline. Use of the skills is counted similarly to the energy system, save double the cost. If the user depletes their blood supply by using the vampiric skills they must replenish it by drinking blood. Animal blood can suffice, but does not quell the thirst of higher-ranked vampires. The greater amount of blood consumed, the greater amount of energy replenished.
Vampires have a subtle skill that is always active, allowing them to heal from wounds. The effectiveness of the skill is based on the rank of the user. Vampires can also move faster, have greater reflexes and are stronger than most other bloodlines. Conversely vampires are severely weakened in the daylight and are affected more by light or holy based attacks. They cannot change others into vampires and cannot regenerate a lost head.
In addition, vampires have the ability to create a dark mist, communicate with other vampires telepathically, call in fog to the battlefield, transform into a swarm of bats to travel longer distances and induce themselves into a bloodrage.
RP Sample: Angeles’ eyes opened. Jade green looked out to the brown of a wooden ceiling. With a light inhale she sat up and looked out the window. Night. Then again it was always night in this city. She stood up from the bed she lay on and straightened out her clothes. She gathered up her things and moved out of the room. Moving down the stairs she strayed from her path only to pay for her stay and moved outside.
She moved over towards the stables and had her mount saddled and prepared. After making sure everything was secure she tipped the stable boy and pulled herself up into the saddle. Alexandria’s hooves clopped against the street as she trotted down a small hill. There were several people about, none paid much mind to her and she recuperated the lack of interest. A serene smile was on her crimson lips as she steered her horse with only a single hand, her other resting on her hip.
It was a calm day it seemed, how long would it last?
As they moved along Angeles observed her surroundings, though she had been down that way for many a time. She was on her way to meet someone. A piece of paper for summons stuck in her coat pocket. The nature of the meaning was clandestine, and shadiness of it was not lost on her, but she was going to go anyway. With her Deathwhisper slipped into her boot, she was prepared for whatever happened next.
It took only a short while to get out of the city. The growing amount of sunlight on the horizon telling how far out she was going. After a short amount of time all eight legs of her horse came to a stop. There was another figure there, cloaked in black. Around him were various armed men. He was prepared as well. She got off her horse, letting the reigns rest on her neck as she stepped forward.
“So nice of you to take the time to see me.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she said to the old man, “but I must inquire as to what you summoned me for.”
“Isn’t it obvious given your profession?” he asked with a grin, “I have someone for you to kill.”
Angeles cocked a single eyebrow and folded her arms, “alright, straight to business with you then,” her voice was calm and sedated, disappointed sounding as if she were expecting a sort of different encounter, “care to tell me of this person?”
“Why yes, of course,” the man let his hood fall back. He was rather wrinkled and his hair was a light grey color. His narrowed eyes, though, did not hold the kind and gentle look of others his age, “he used to be an old associate of mine, we started a business together, you see. We were very young at the time and he went off to get married, but still held fifty percent of the royalties. He still has fifty percent of the royalties and I need that in order to sell, but he just will not let go of it.”
The man pulled out a small bag, but it was full, “so if you could take care of him for me, make it seem like an accident, I would be most grateful, and I will pay you this same amount after its done,” the man tossed the bag and it was deftly caught in one hand. Angeles felt the weight of it. She smiled and walked forward calmly, slipping her other hand into her pocket. The men around the man shifted, preparing for an attack. Angeles merely put the bag against the man’s chest, over his heart.
“I decline.”
“What!?” the old man gasped, grey eyes widening in surprise.
Angeles did not repeat herself instead she lowered her hand to drop the weight, the elderly man’s hand fumbling up to take it from her as she turned and made her way towards her mount.
“You can’t,” came a snarl behind her and she looked over her shoulder. The armed men all came towards her. She grinned and seemed to vanish, a black mist behind her. She was instead at the throat of one of the men, seemingly kissing it save for blood pouring from her mouth down his neck.
Jade eyes changed to garnets as she let the now dead man fall to the ground and turned to the others. She smirked cruelly and a fog rolled in, thickening slowly until everything was hidden from view. The men all began to panic and swing their weapons about blindly. But out the edge of the fog, the white horse moved out of it, Angeles sitting calmly with the shadow. The two of them made their way back towards the city. She was sure this was the last she had seen of that man and his body guards, but for now the crisis had been averted.
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Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2011 5:34 pm
Skills E-rank D-rank C-rank Username: Angeles Valentine RPC name: Angeles Valentine Is it a Free skill?: No. Type of skill: Deathwhisper Skill name: Duplication Rank: C Skill description: Angeles is able to create duplicates of forms that the Deathwhisper already knows (such as two daggers, two spears, etc.) enabling for two-weapon combat. This can not be used to double the amount of ammo for her rank. Sample: Angeles ran alongside her present opponent. Enemy was not a word she would use; this was only a spar, for now. Strike for strike they parried each other’s attacks as they ran, running for as long as there was road. A smile was on her crimson lips, it was benign, but it suddenly became sly and her opponent’s eyes widened. Black dust flowed away from the Deathwhisper in her left hand and traveled to her right, forming into an exact replica of the sword she was using. Her body twisted and threw momentum into her right-handed swing. Caught off guard her opponent flew back off the road, and Angeles landed from her spin, her back to the man as dust blew past her feet. B-rank A-rank Username: Angeles Valentine RPC name: Angeles Valentine Is it a Free skill?: No Type of skill: Deathwhisper Skill name: Replication Rank: A Skill description: This skill is given to Angeles via the Deathwhisper. With a willing subject the Deathwhisper is presented to a weapon. The Deathwhisper will change to its most basic form and coat the weapon. It will then begin to copy it. The copying process can take anywhere from one post to five depending on the size of the weapon it is copying. Once finished, the dust will fall away and reform into the same sort of weapon, but not an exact replica. Abilities of the weapon it copies are not copied, only the form of the weapon. It can replicate anything from a fork to a sword and more; whether she has the capability to use what is replicated is another matter. Sample: Angeles had been engaged in conversation with the kindly warrior sitting across the table from her. She was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, leaning forward with her elbow propped on the table, and her chin set on her hand. A victorious smile was on her crimson lips as she looked at the young man through her verdant eyes. His katana was leaning against the table beside them, out of its sheathe, entirely black as night itself. It had been a simple challenge; a battle of wits. One that she had easily triumphed in, leaving the samurai deep in consideration of his own views, and her prize was that sword. After a while, the warrior gave a defeated sigh and opened his eyes. Angeles’ smile broadened only slightly more. “I see that you are right,” the man said, Angeles moving to a more restful position in her seat, leaning back, uncrossing her legs and folding her arms. A single eyebrow ascended as the mother sighed again and moved so that his elbows were propped up on the table and rested his forehead against his hands, “this changes everything.” Angeles stood from her seat and moved to the sword. The black of it suddenly fell away from the blade, leaving a rather regular looking sword behind. The black then fell to the floor, moving of its own accord until it formed a similar looking blade, entirely black. This blade Angeles lifted and held in her hand with a satisfied smile, and she patted the warrior’s shoulder, “I will see you around. I enjoyed our banter.” S-rank
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