|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 1:39 pm
Okay, so I haven't role played in over a year, so this is my attempt at getting back into it. Please don't hate me for all the simplicity, but I really didn't want to over do it. If any one has any questions, please feel free to ask. Also, I've gone ahead and made the first post so that everyone has a general idea of where to start.
Thanks,
Spaniard.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 1:40 pm
Welcome!
This, is the Arena. Every thousand or so years, a competition is held between the best warriors from each world to see who is the best of the best of our universe. Creatures both big and small come to claim victory for their people. Most battles, end in death, but each soldier dies with honor fighting for their people.
This year, the Arena has returned! Spaniard is throwing a massive tournament to find the best fighter in the universe. Many will enter, but only one will survive. Will it be the reigning champion? Or will it be you? The only way to find out is to join the Arena!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 1:42 pm
Rules
- Matches may go to the death, so please don’t be angry if your character dies. I suggest making two or three just so the odds are in your favor.
- All creatures are welcome, but there is to be NO POWER PLAYING!
- Spaniard is God (referee).
- Follow Gaia TOS and add as much blood and violence as possible.
- PM your profiles to me with the title The Arena.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 1:45 pm
CharactersSkeleton: Quote: Picture: Username: Character Name: Age: Race: Sex: Weapons: Backstory: Anything else:  Username: Some Badass Name Character Name: Spaniard Age: Unknown Race: Guardian Angel Sex: Female Weapons: None. Backstory: Spaniard is a guardian angel with no one to protect. She had a human she was supposed to look after, but needless to say, that human died in a terrible accident. Spaniard hasn’t forgiven herself for it, even thousands of years later, and she is shunned by the other guardian angels. She came to the Arena some years ago as a contestant. After the old leader of the Arena died in combat, Spaniard assumed the role of leader and has kept the competition going ever since. There is no being more powerful than her in the Arena, which makes her a valuable marker for assassins. Anything else: Spaniard is God in the Arena. Anything she says goes. ~~~~~  Username: Some Badass Name
Character Name: Adrian Viento
Age: 24
Race: Lycan
Sex: Female
Weapons: Short sword, her claws and teeth.
Backstory: Adrian is of royal lycan decent. Next in line as ruler of the lycans, Adrian is hot headed and mild tempered. As part of a royal bloodline, she has special powers which include a red aura that forms around her, causing her physical abilities to heighten. She can also command other wolves to do her bidding.
Anything else: She has a twin brother, Arian. ~~~~~  Username: Some Badass Name
Character Name: Arian Viento
Age: 24
Race: Lycan
Sex: Male
Weapons: Bow and arrow, claws and teeth.
Backstory: Arian is the younger twin brother of Arian and of royal lycan decent. He is soft spoken and very calm- usually the one to diffuse his older sister. As part of a royal bloodline, he has special powers which include a green aura that forms around him, causing his physical abilities to heighten. He can also command other wolves to do his bidding.
Anything else: He’s a heart-throb and ladies go crazy for him, even though he’s really, really shy. ~~~~~ 
Username: Trance Harper
Character Name: Ronnie "Boxer" Capsicone
Age: 27
Race: Shifter
Sex: Male
Weapons: Studded brass knuckles and ankle bracers, but he may just transform
Backstory: Ronnie was adopted by the Capsicone mob when he was about 8 years old and just happened to save the boss's son during a raid - purely by accident, he was just in the right place at the right time. Since then, devious underhanded behavior has been nurtured all in the name of profit. When Ronnie was about 12, he beat up a much older and larger bully, earning him suspension and the pride of his adopted family. His "Uncle Murray" and "Uncle Parson" began training him in the boxing ring, and when he was a little older they introduced kickboxing to the mix. He kept secret for a long time his ability to shift into the animal that soon earned him his nickname (though most think it is due to his fighting style), but was eventually discovered by his now mentor "Uncle 'Bulldog' Murray." Bulldog told him about the Arena, having retired from the life himself, and Ronnie intends to win for the honour of the family.
Anything else: Like most shifters, Ronnie's animal form is rather larger than the average of the species. 8 year old Ronnie.
~~~~~ 
Username: Trance Harper
Character Name: Milady "Hot Iron" Hobbs
Age: 18
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Weapons: Whips and danger sticks (nunchaku)
Backstory: Milady is just like any girl that grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, though she did happen to actually grow up next to a railroad. Named after an ideal, more dirt than skin, tacky sense of what means pretty, and little more than 2 cents to rub together. She almost got clear without inheriting the smoking and drinking problems, almost. Her father was a repairman and her mother had a "ladies spa" in the main room of their double-wide. Milady's brother got arrested for stealing a gun and ammo and proceeding to try to rob a liquor store while high on amphetamines. She spent most of her time lying on the ground when the trains came through. As for fighting, when she was 14 one of her father's buddies got too handsy and she picked up her mother's straighten iron and smacked him, breaking his nose and the iron. When her father came to beat her for it, she defended herself, wielding the iron like nunchucks. Her mother kicked her out that night; she continued to use the iron like nunchucks and its cord like a whip until a man she knows only as Mister Blank offered to sponsor her training for special fighting circumstances. She participated in pay-per-view battle royales, dressed like a school girl, for the next few years. The Arena is just another payday, minus the miniskirt.
Anything else: Milady Style
~~~~~ 
Username: Trance Harper
Character Name: "Angel" Sakhmet
Age: Old, 1000s Old
Race: Nephilim
Sex: Technically genderless, but male physique
Weapons: Handy with a spear or sword, but his grip is like iron and his reflexes are impeccable
Backstory: Sakhmet is a son of the fallen, although he is only "son" since he chooses to occupy a male form - he could easily change his mind and become female. He grew up largely in one of the Otherworlds that surround ours, but made a point of visiting this one whenever anything particularly interesting was going on. War, be it civil uprising or world combat, always drew him out. Lately war has been less interesting to him, fought by machines and faceless opponents, Sakhmet misses the good old joy of a gladiator's trial. He is not apt to fight himself, but as an opponent he is incredibly dangerous, not to mention technically immortal unless the blade be dipped in holy water or branded by a crucifix.
Anything else: Sakhmet enjoys bloodsports, war, and violence in general - though he prefers organized violence to the impromptu and unstable nature of fights between spouses, or the cowardly and imbalanced nature of alley muggings. The Arena provides a certain degree of entertainment.
~~~~~ Picture: Joss VanGraiUsername: angeldenoche Character Name: Joss VanGrai Age: 26 Race: Tiefling Sex: male Weapons: naginata, knife, horns, tail Backstory: if Joss was anything in his life before being a slave, he does not remember it. His earliest memories are of standing on a slave block before a sea of faces and one of those faces, a gnarled, angry face which he would discover belonged to Yur, his trainer, coming to claim him. His whole life has revolved around learning how to fight in the Arenas. From sunrise to sunset, and countless hours beyond that he has spent training and drilling, fighting, bleeding, killing, and at times, dying all for a master he has never seen. Time and years of combat have molded him into a quiet man, one who perhaps, in another life might have been a gentle poet, but now one who holds no qualms against killing. Everything is a game and he is but a pawn to be moved at his master’s will. Tell him the rules and he will do whatever necessary to carry them out. Anything else: Secretly, Joss has been practicing the limited tiefling magic his race is capable of. While no master in the art, he has discovered he can summon a space of darkness at will and can, if he concentrates, throw a small burst of flame from his hand. It’s not much and wouldn’t cause much harm, but as he has learned, it’s the small things that often turn the tide of battle. ~~~~~ Picture: “Arianna”“Aria”Username: Nicko1421 Character Name: Arianna “Aria” Venatrix Age: 20, 374 Race: Human, Witch Sex: Female, Female Weapons: Nothing, Her magic Backstory: A life of blessed with talent and success, ruined by her oldest friend. Arianna blessed with a voice countered by no other in her world was the subject of attention for many a suitor however she had chosen the person she wished to spend the rest of her life with. On the day of her wedding her fiancé and his family along with hers sat in the chapel their hearts and hopes high as Arianna bean walking down the aisle. Her dress as immaculate as her with each step drawing closer to her the next step of her life. But all was not as she had hoped. As the ceremony began the doors to their chapel burst open flying off their hinges and onto the ground. Standing in the doorway was a familiar face the face of her best friend, a man names Dante Virgils. Before words of confusion could be exchanged Dante unleashed his power the ability to control fear. Arianna watched as her families were driven to insanity by the fear Dante orchestrated. They lashed out attacking one another. Setting fire to the chapel she screamed as her husband to be held her tightly telling her to not watch. Her parents, siblings, friends driven to insanity they murdered each other laughing wildly as their minds were torn asunder. As Dante breached the steps to the altar he brandished a blade and in one fell swoop killed her fiancé. It was over in a singular moment, Dante retrieved a small bottle from his coat pocket a singular glowing purple sphere floated in the bottle giving off a faint light. As knelt next to the body of her slain love Dante forced her to swallow the strange orb, the purple light would seal her life forever. Her body transformed becoming possessed by the spirit of the powerful witch “Aria” when she returned to he senses Arianna was no longer herself, her wedding gown had been replaced with a revealing black dress, her hair body, mind, it was all different she no longer recognized the person she was. To this day she does not know why Dante did what he did, not that it really matters Arianna is mostly a spectator of her own life now watching as someone else walks in her skin. Anything else: Arianna and Aria are two different people inhabiting the same body, Arianna is a photokinetic, while Aria is a powerful witch. Most of the time Aria is in control of the body there are only select few instances when Arianna is able to regain control of her body. ~~~~~ Picture:  Username: Nicko1421 Character Name: Luca Baulder Age: 23 Race: OWL Sex: Male Weapons: Concussion ammunition fired through his mechanical arm.Backstory: Luca grew up in the war torn world of Earth. In his world OWLS (Other Worldly Beings) were segregated from normal people, placed into camps, killed, or in some cases turned into soldiers to fight for various countries. Luca was no different. When his powers manifested, electromagnetism that evolved into kinetic generation he was enlisted into the British army where he eventually lost his left arm only to have it replaced with high end cybernetics. As he fought through the war he was eventually wrapped into the dispute between the Night Owls, the Fallen, and the U.N.S. he eventually met the woman who would become his wife, Bailey Summers. Though the war would end with much tragedy and one continent less in the world their lives were truly happy ones. Anything else: Luca carries their wedding photo in a tiny slot on hidden in his arm. ~~~~~ Picture: Dante VirgilsUsername: Nicko1421 Character Name: Dante Virgils Age: 27 Race: Human Sex: Male Weapons: A scythe he summons from an infernal portal. Backstory: Dante Virgils, a title more so than a name passed down through many faces. But one thing remains the same, their power. Dante holds the power to open up rifts leading to an infernal hellish world summoning forth terrifying creatures to fight by his side. Some are weak but many in numbers, and others are terrifying in scale. For this current Dante he resides as the owner of the Nine Circles, a bar in the heart of New York. Dante may be a terrifying fighter but the real magic is in his hands and voice. Renowned as one of the best bartenders in the country he has masterfully hidden away his infernal origins beneath the facade of a simple, charming, elegant bartender. Anything else: For the sake of the tournament that is what he will be doing, bartending. While he considered entering for the sake of the sport he decided his talents could be better served ensuring the thousands of people sitting in the stands enjoyed their time as well. ~~~~~  Username: LovetoCauseMayhem Character Name: Sorandati Windsear Age: Ageless Race: Elder Dragon of Light, Mother to Us All Sex: Yes, please. Oh, right, Female. Weapons: When she was younger, she had a massive boomerang forced in the fires of her homeland, created with the steel blood of the one love she never believed she could live without. But since her retirement into godhood, her weapon has received a well-deserved rest and now rests comfortably above her bed, its presence ever at the back of her mind. If called to fight, she has an extraordinary expanse of elemental powers ranging from fire, to ice, to lightning and even to the ability to bend the layers of space. She can also use the relentless might of her True Form, the Elder Dragon of Light, to bring an end to potential threats to her cosmos. And her sharp wit and quick, slick responses (both physically and verbally) could be weapons in themselves, really. Backstory: She was there, in the beginning, with Spaniard. Before she ascended and discovered her true self, she was there in the very first Arena that started it all. There, with Spaniard. With Addison. Through dark times and bright times for both of them, Spaniard and she have always felt a connection that has proven to transcend blood and time, space and family. Like something woven with the delicate strands of a nebula's light and tied with the ferocious beauty of a supernova. Sorandati has experienced her equal, horrible shares of pain, suffering, and joy. Now, she feels like she is a complete being, unable to evolve and grow any further, and thus she is truly one with the universe. Anything else: She is fierce, and now has nothing but sarcasm (a huge amount of it) and love. She is a creature full of a solid, unshakeable peace. Especially in these recent years. She has become quieter, and more thoughtful than before, and much less likely to raise a hand in violent retaliation. ~~~~~  Username: LovetoCauseMayhem Character Name: Anaxandria Aphadil. But she goes by Anthrax. Age: She looks to be maybe between 26 and 28, but she is actually thousands of years old. Race: She is of the race of what you would call the Eyris. Sex: Female...? Weapons: Anthrax, for one so cold, can control the bottomless flames of hell. The cooler her demeanor is, the more powerful the burn. She can also rip holes in the very air to wherever she chooses, so long as she knows it either by name or what it looks like. It makes traveling across space easy, and beating the crap out of people even easier. But her real form allows her to bend the corners of both time and space, if only to minimal degrees. She also has a whip of flame that's more for show than anything else, but she is able to conjure a small armory of weapons if necessary. Backstory: Anthrax and her two younger sisters (one of which will not be participating in this story) are very destructive creatures. Born to a family of wealth and power, they started as normal human beings, but when they were infants they were offered as tribute to a heathen god with fourteen eyes and the rumored power to control entire worlds and bend the laws of universes. The heathen god smiled upon the offering. The parents of the three girls were utterly annihilated, and when the three girls were found, alive, in the carnage, they were a new race. With new faces, and new names. They now serve only to destroy and obliterate whatever their god, Kanatu, chooses. Kanatu and Sorandati, to him, are bitter enemies. Anything else: Being the oldest, Anthrax is used to obedience and regulation. She is cold, cruel, and not afraid to punish when defiance is about and discipline is needed. In control of everything that is her being, she is a perfectionist, and hates anything that is out of place. She is used to striping life from bodies and the hearts out of worlds with cold, iron fists. If she wasn't related to her sisters, she probably would've killed them already.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 1:47 pm
Contestant Matches #1- Adrian Viento #2- Arian Viento #3- Ronnie "Boxer" Capsicone #4- Milady "Hot Iron" Hobbs #5- Joss VanGrai #6- Arianna “Aria” Venatrix #7- Luca Baulder #8- Anaxandria "Anthrax" Aphadil
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 1:47 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 02, 2014 1:58 pm
The air was crisp, the skies were blue… it was the perfect day. The Arena, a large coliseum of sand and brick, looked like a golden jewel as the sun gently over it. The air was humming softly with the sound of voices as people, spectators, began to slowly fill the seats of the Arena. You could hear scuffles between races, quickly put to rest by guards who would not tolerate such offenses in a place of peace.
Peace.
That’s all that Spaniard wanted right now. The humming of the spectators was growing louder and louder… disturbing her sleeping in her chambers. Black messy hair lay stretched out across a pillow, hiding her face. Her small body, only about 5’3’’, was tossed ever so roughly against the mattress… she slept like a dog. Finally, the sun reached up to creep through her window and splash onto her face, making her cringe.
“Mmmmm…” She turned over in the bed, away from the window, to be hit by the light of another window. “MMMMMM…” She wrapped a pillow around her head, but the noises from outside grew louder and louder. Finally, she turned over on her back and sighed. Opening her eyes, small amber colored orbs flicked for a second or two, adjusting to the light. “Oh, fine.” She said through gritted teeth as she unwrapped herself from a mess of blankets.
Several minutes later, after a nice warm shower and a visit from her servant, she was dressed and ready to meet the crowd. She was never very good at public speaking, but she wasn’t nervous. She was just ready to get the hard part over with so that they could get to the main event. To the Arena. Making a check in the mirror, she was drenched in white robes- two slits cut open on her back to let her wings come out when she called them to her. She was a different kind of angel. A special kind of angel. An angel who lost her way a long, long time ago and was slowly trying to make up for it. Was the Arena the way to do it? To redeem herself in the eyes of her fellow angels? Maybe not, but it was her new career choice, and she had to stick to it. Besides, she had nothing or no one else…
A bell rang loud overhead, disturbing Spaniard from her thoughts. It was time. Slowly, she reached for the handle of her door and began making her way to the throne that sat at the very top of the Arena so she could announce the contestants. Hopefully, they were all here and accounted for, since a few were missing from the night before. The contestants were supposed to have checked into the Arena last night and slept in their own private rooms so that they would be well rested for the tournament. With any luck, all of the contestants should be up and waiting for instructions in the contestant lounge. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any trouble makers either. She hated having to put people in their place.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 13, 2014 8:03 pm
Light crept slowly into an open window. The air was brisk and cool and hummed with a buzzing sound that seemed to come from the walls itself. Adrian, not a very tall figure, was already up and dressed- her red armor draped around her like a protective cloak. She remembered being here, in this room, the last time she competed in the Arena. Many years ago, a much younger Adrian fought match after match in hopes of being the best there was in the universe. But she fell short, coming inches away from death by the axe of a raging minotaur. She was lucky that day, but she had made one too many mistakes on the battle field as well. She was older now, wiser, had a stronger back bone, and she was most of all determined. It was written all over her face as she paced the room slowly in a never ending circle. Her chocolate brown hair was tied up and her make-up was lite and basic. Just because she was a warrior didn’t mean she couldn’t look good. For Christ sake she was a princess after all, and not just any princess indeed. No, Adrian was the heir to the lycan throne, just years away from taking reign as supreme ruler of the lycan race and trust that that was a lot bodies. Being lycan royalty, she had a few more tricks up her sleeve than the average lycan. But none of that mattered to some people. To some people, this whole Arena competition was child’s play. At least, that’s what her father thought. Carlos, king of the lycans, was amused that his only daughter and successor wanted to compete against so many different races as a leisure activity. Adrian, however, wasn’t amused. Infact, the only one who seemed to take her seriously was her mother, Isabella, but not in the way that Adrian would have hoped. No, Isabella Viento, queen of the lycans, hated the idea of her successor fighting to the death just for a title. ”But mom!” Adrian would exclaim, "It’s not like I’m going to DIE!” Well… she almost did, and that practically turned her mother into a cat for a few moments as she watched her daughter get beaten into the earth by an eight foot five minotaur some hundred years ago. Her mother almost forbade Adrian from going to the competition except that Adrian never could quite grasp the meaning of the word ‘no’. It was only after Arian agreed to come along did the queen Isabella seem to be a little more at ease with Adrian attending. ”Just make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid…” he was warned. Adrian’s nose suddenly scrunched together. Where the hell was Arian anyway? They were supposed to walk down to the contestant’s lounge together, but that was fifteen minutes ago. Luckily, Adrian planned for Arian’s lazy butt to drag her along, so she woke up extra early just to get ready. Finally, tired of pacing the rug on the floor, Adrian took a deep breath of air, attached her sword to her belt, and opened the door to exit her room. Arian’s room was just next to hers and with some effort, she forced out a patient and soft knock at the door. No answer. She knocked again, this time with a bit less patience than before. No answer again. A growl formed inside her chest as her patience slowly died away. Reaching for the door handle, she found it was locked, and that sent her patience way out of the room. ”Arian!” Her temper was getting the best of her and suddenly, before she even knew what had happened, she kicked the door open and it hit the wall with a loud SMASH. She peered inside the room, dark eyes scanning the floor until she found the bed and then… him. ”Arian, you no good piece of s**t-“ Her eyes were turning from their dark brown to a bright amber as her frustration grew. There he was, all dressed and ready to go, yet he lay in bed with a pillow over his face. ”Arian!” She was shouting now since Arian’s body refused to move, even through all the commotion. ”I swear to Dad… if you don’t get up right now, I’ll tear you to pieces before the elves get to you!”A small muffled sound came from the pillow as Arian shook his head no. ”Idon’twannago…” came the soft mumblings of Arian. Feeling his twin sister’s presence on him, he slowly removed the pillow from his head, revealing a mess of black hair and piercing green eyes which were, to Adrian’s dismay, half asleep. ”You go without me… I’ll just…” He moved slowly to sit on the bed and gave his sister a half yawn. ”… I’ll meet up with you later.” Arian, the calmer of the two twins, knew that when Adrian got angry, it wasn’t wise to get on her level, but instead, to stay relaxed so that she could come down to his level. ”Oh no you don’t… you wake up, right now! I demand it!” Adrian stomped her foot on the ground like a whiny princess who wasn’t getting her way. Wait… ”Oh, come on Adri! I don’t even want to go to this thing anyway… look at what I’m wearing for Dad’s sake!” He had on a solid green shirt which was what he was referring to. It was a problem because usually at home, Arian was shirtless. ”It’s a bloody crime against nature, is what this shirt is…”Adrian had had enough of Arian’s foolishness as she watched a smile creep across his face. He was always trying to make her laugh when she was angry. ”Look, you know I don’t want you here either, but you’re the only way I get to come to this competition and that’s all there is to it. Now grab your bow and let’s go.”Arian smiled big now. His soft spoken words had paid off and Adrian was calmer now… more demanding, but calmer nonetheless. He swore sometimes she was bipolar or something. ”Alright, since you asked nicely…” Adrian quickly found a shoe and threw it at her twin brother, hitting him hard against his ribs. He chuckled. Even though they were twins, and their faces were the same, their bodies were not. Adrian was about 5’5’’, small and slender. Arian was a good six feet tall with large broad shoulders. He stood up from his bed, towing over his twin sister and gave another soft chuckle before grabbing his bow and stretching long and hard. When he was finished, he ran a hand through his messy hair and gave his sister a wink. ”Lead the way.” And they were off. Rounding a few corners, the two lycans reached a room with golden colored doors. Above it were the words Contestant’s Lounge. Giving each other a shrug, the two simultaneously opened the doors to go into the room. The room itself was large and full of comfortable furniture. A large window to the left peered down to the Arena floor below them. Already you could see the stands filling with excitement. To the right was a bar, no bartender on duty yet. All around, televisions plastered the walls, giving almost every angle available of the Arena floor. And straight ahead, laid out on a table was- ”Break-“ ”-fast.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2014 8:07 pm
 
Work hard, play hard, work hard, play hard, work hard, play hard, work hard, play hard, work work work work work work work work, uh...
Sweat ran in hot streams down her temples, leaving gritty trails over her dusty skin. It stung the corners of her eyes and glistened over her lip. It made her feel alive, hard. Work hard... That was all she knew she was good at; working hard, playing hard, going hard. She ran like a machine, and she liked it that way. That's why she was up before the sun and had run several kilometers over unpaved streets; she'd been looking for a railway to follow but couldn't find one. Well, if I'm still alive tomorrow, I'll have to try south.
The bigger the bill, the harder you ball. Well I'm throwing mine, cause my money long. The quicker you're here, the faster you go. That's why where I come from the only thing we know is:
She'd been in the miniature gym that took up the back end of the trailer-truck parked alongside her lodging trailer for nearly 2 hours now. She had too. They would be arriving at the Arena today, and for all she knew she'd have a match before getting settled in. She had to be ready. A blonde lock came loose from her bun and she swung a frustrated kick at the dummy she'd been beating up, knocking it across the hold and into the metal wall. Heaving a sigh, she reached up and slicked her hair back with one hand while wiping off her upper lip with the other. It was time to switch to her weapons.
Go hard. Make sure you do whatever it is that you gotta do, that's your job, and n--
Milady spun, ready to strangle whomever had dared to turn off her jams, but smirked and sucked her teeth when she saw Mister Blank. Who else would have actually come near her trailer; the drivers were totally terrified of her, for some reason. Shifting her weight to one side and crossing her arms, the nimble blonde watched the intimidating man with more confidence than her smallish stature would suggest she was capable of.
"Time to go already?" He just nodded. He did that a lot; not talking. It pissed her off, like he thought he was better than everyone so he didn't have to say as many words. Well, he was kind of better than everybody, everybody she'd ever known anyway. Huffing and shifting her weight to the other side, Milady eyed her danger sticks where they hung on the wall. "I'm not finished. Can I just stay back here while we roll?"
"Don't tire yourself out." He replied in his scary-dark-alley voice before turning her music back on and exiting the trailer, sliding the door shut behind him. Milady shook herself out and reached for weapons - she couldn't practice much with the whip in this small space, but that was okay. She more than confident in her skills in that field. Moving over to a dummy that would actually swing back when she hit it, she felt the floor begin to rumble and move beneath her feet. It would be good for her, the added variable. Turning her sticks a few times around her body to remind her arms of their weight, she tuned back into her workout and promptly struck out at the mannequin, prepared to jump when it flailed back at her.
The quicker you're here, the faster you go. That's why where I come from the only thing we know is: hard, play hard, work hard, play hard, work hard, play hard, work...
threads : workingoutplayers : none fatigue : "yer kidding right?" out of charm : whoo ! spring break I mean , first post !
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2014 8:10 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 17, 2014 8:31 pm
Dante Virgils"The Devilishly Sweet Bartender"The soft rustling of the doors signaled in the corner of the contestant's lobby. From behind the sanctity of the bar a man stepped through, hair a flawless ebony that fell perfectly into his face. His eyes a deep red, alluring but promising endless tolls of mysterious pleasure. He held in his hands a crystal champagne flute, its pristine surface glimmering in the light that flowed from the bar. His other hand held a silk cloth wiping the inside of the glass as he gently placed it onto the polished counter with a small chime. He smiled lightly folding the silk before tucking it into his breast pocket. He wore a dark red button down shirt, a pressed fine black vest buttoned over the shirt. Starched pressed black pants with pin stripes covered his legs and fell gently over his pair of polished dress shoes. A thin silver chain draped from his breast pocket beneath the vest, where he tucked his pocket watch. Smiling lightly as he reached beneath the bat removing a chilled bottle, dark blue glass and a parchment label decorated the bottle as he popped off the cork, the sound of fizz teased the ears of those near by as he poured a small amount of the champagne into the glass. Putting the bottle back into its home he placed a glass jug full of bright orangish pink liquid, peach juice. Pouring some into the glass he placed the bottle on the counter for others to enjoy before he topped the drink off with a small garnish, a sliver crescent moon shaped slice of peach. Just as he placed the drink onto the counter the doors to the lounge opened up, in walked in the ever stunning ebony beauty. Aria Venatrix, her magical presence filling the area as she walked to the bar. A smile spread across her painted lips revealing flawless white teeth. "Ever punctual Dante. You never do cease to amaze." She said as she took the drink. His own face dawned a smile in appreciation. "I live to serve." His voice calm, mellow, the perfect soothing voice for the ever hectic lives of the combatants. "Enjoy the bellini Lady Venatrix." He said as he went back to setting up his bar for others. Aria smiled taking a seat at the bar, she placed her drink down spinning around so that she could face the others. Crossing her legs she sat up straight as she observed the others. Her dress, black in color was slimming clinging to her body with smooth curves. A slit drew up the side revealing her legs. The dress snuck up her body cutting off just above her breasts, revealing only a small amount of cleavage. Lace sprouted from the top wrapping up it ended as it wrapped up her neck and went down to her hands. The lace clung to her skin, looking more like a tactile tattoo rather than an outfit. Shin black stiletto heels covered her feet. She was normally seen wearing something of this manner, though not always black she did seem to prefer dresses and more revealing clothing, this was simply her nature the femme fatale who had her life stolen away. She took note of their host, a woman she had not spent any particular amount of time talking to, then again she had not had the time to talk to any of them yet, aside from the hostess there were a few others, a man who sat on the couch, confident no doubt, she smiled lightly leaning back she reached behind her picking her drink up taking a small sip. Things were shaping up nicely. Dante also took note of the hostess entering into the lounge. "Good morning Adrian. Is there anything I can get for you this morning?" He asked from behind the bar. He stood polishing glasses giving everything the sparkle that it needed. He appreciated these moments where he could work with the finer of the liquors. When the fighting began his temperament changed somewhat, mostly serving the nectar of the gods, in the form of beer. Dark, light, bitter, spicy, hoppy, and just plain satisfying Dante had spent the better part of the past two years prepping beer specifically for this event, none would go unsatisfied during the festivities. "Always a pleasure to serve."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 20, 2014 7:31 am
She felt like she was burning all over, a blend of muscles and tendons screaming from the work out combined with the unnecessarily hot water Milady was using to shower off. But the heat, though it made her skin raw, helped everything underneath to feel refreshed and recovered. Loose, ready, and she needed to be ready. Stepping out of the shower and toweling off, she braced herself for being subjected to the dresser Mr. Blank had hired to babysit her and make sure she didn't always look smothered by dirt and grease.
Well, it was more that the dresser was subjected to the girl. It was a young man, not surprising as woman probably wouldn't survive Milady's verbal and physical barrage - screaming and swearing when her hair was pulled, kicking out when he got powder in her nose. Perhaps it was the memory of her mother doing similarly for others, but most likely it was just that she'd never played nicely with others.
Hair dry, face clean, and make up tidy, Milady threw her towel on the floor and walked naked to the closet in her trailer. True, she had rooms in the facility of the Arena, which they'd finally arrived at a few hours ago, but why would she trust anyone up in there. This was her space, and unless Mr. Blank ordered her to abandon it it would be home until they left. Besides, she hated unpacking.
"Get out!" She snapped when the dresser followed her. He wisely ducked when she threw a boot at his head and quickly left the trailer to wait outside. She dressed herself, adding her utility belt to her ensemble - it featured fixtures and holsters at the back for her danger sticks and gauntlet bracers. The last thing to go on before she exited was a pair of wireless headphones, with the music turned up loud enough to block out anything annoying the dresser tried to tell her about her attire. It was in his best interests really, she hadn't broken his nose yet and his face wouldn't handle that well.
Mr. Blank was waiting with the dresser; he'd probably gotten situated in the rooms for them and probably used their facilities. Whatever, he's a suit. They need to be pampered. She'd never liked the pampering, it just made her frustrated. People touching her over and over. Milady didn't like being touched. The dresser's fresh bruises and scratches were exemplary of that.
She pursed her lips and bit her cheek a little as she looked up at her sponsor. The man just shook his head and indicated that she should follow him. She took a half-step after him before spinning to glare at the dresser - he'd just tapped her shoulder. Cringing a little, the man held out a pair of leather gloves to her and mouthed something. Had she been able to hear or read lips, she'd have known that he said, "So you don't have to touch anything or anyone. And they'll keep your hands limber."
But, she didn't hear any of that, so she just shrugged, took the gloves, and turned back to follow Mr. Blank. They were nice gloves, new to the touch, they slipped on easily. She liked the way they squeezed when she flexed her fingers. "Nice." So distracted by the gift, she didn't really notice they'd arrived at the competitors' lounge until Mr. Blank stopped and snapped his fingers in front of her face. Milady huffed and pulled her headphones down around her neck, the music still playing.
Mr. Blank stared at her like he was trying to decide whether or not to say anything to her. After a moment of nothing, Milady sucked her teeth a little and clapped her hands together. "Right. 'Go make some money,' got it." It's not like he was going to say anything different anyway. She was just there for the money; he might get something out of the prestige but that wasn't something she really cared about. With that, she sassed her way into the lounge and glanced around.
Boy, boy, girl, whatever that thing pouting in the corner is... ugh, bore me. Holy ********, is that a bar? She probably wasn't supposed to drink, and she wouldn't, but there was a powerful temptation to do so. Of course, if the others were drinking that would certainly give her an advantage, despite her late arrival. There was food though, a little bit of something might take the edge off - she hadn't eaten in hours, not that she was hungry. Food would only slow her down now. Now, if they have coconut water, that would be handy.
threads : intimidationplayers : adrian, arian, ronnie, joss, dante, aria fatigue : "yer kidding right?" out of charm : bad-ss b-tches be rollin' up !
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 10, 2014 8:11 pm
The crowd of the Arena was full and loud. There was electricity in the air as the time grew close to the first match. Spaniard sat at the top of the Arena, looking down at the crowd. A couple of servants were coming back and forth, bringing her wine and food. Finally, a servant came to Spaniard's side and tapped her on the shoulder. "My lady, it's time.", they said before whisking away. "Ah, well then, let's get this party started!" Spaniard slapped her knees and stood up, making the entire Arena go mad with noise. She tapped her throat and suddenly her voice was amplified throughout the stadium while all cameras were focused on her.
"Good morning, and welcome to the fourth running of the Arena!" The crowd erupted into cheers. "Today, the best, of the best, of the universe have gathered here to show you, what they've got. Who will walk away from the Arena victorious? Who will walk away at all? There's only one way to find out..." She raised her hand in the air and the crowd exploded once again. "Let the games, begin!" She dropped her hand and the crowd went wild.
Looking in her pocket, Spaniard pulled out a card that had the first match on it. "Adrian Viento and Milady "Hot Iron" Hobbs, please make your way up to the stage!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
