Welcome to Gaia! ::

On Profiles

For now I will be the one that accepts and allows you to post your profiles here. I will lend out this power once the guild grows, but I would like this to be just me for now.

This is the format for creating your profile:




On Rooms

Also, as stated on the main forum, you must create a place for yourself. Just create a topic in here that represents your room.

This place will, most likely, be underground, within the tunnels underneath the restaurant, but you may have an apartment somewhere in Los Angeles. Please state within the title (Underground) or (Apartment), so this can be defined.

Name: Kojima Ariyama Aion Rauchild
Alias: The Dark One, Death's Hand
Age: His age is unknown, all that is known is he is old.
Appearance:
Newly Evolved Demonic Appearance:
Personality: Hateful, Merciless, Always angry seemingly, Sadistic.
History: Kojima was born in Okinawa Japan, but then was later on sent to Moscow under the care of an orphanage. The reason for this was unknown, some say it was because he murdered his family and had to have some place to go, for his parents went missing after his Sixth birthday. Others said his parents abandoned him. While growing up, he was the problamatic child. Constantly beating the other children, always snapping at the caretakers of the Orphanage. He was ten years old when it all started.

One day, while he was out, he suddenly reverted into something else. No one knew what, but most of the children had been slaughtered, and some of the caretakers. Kojima was thrown out, and he lived a life in the wilderness. When finally the modern age came, he moved away from Moscow and came here. The way he became a Demonic Lord was an accident. Another Demonic Lord continously tried to 'enlist' him into his minion. Annoyed, Kojima killed him. When the Lord of Hell caught wind of this, Kojima was appointed Lord.
Weapons: A Katana. The blade is made of silver, and in the hilt has a small UV light that runs on batteries inside it. Kojima has to take the bottom of the hilt off to do that. ((Only taken out for certain situations, he still has his honor)), Two 9mm, A Customized Desert Eagle. Supernatural power wise, he uses his sheer Demonic power and the power to control all things pyro.

((Editing
sorry about the seemingly random crap popping up
been too lazy to edit))

Name: Yami K'Meric
(Took Maren's last name when he married her because he didn't have one.)
Alias: Yellow-eyed Devil, The Dark Seraphim, and among demon lore he is known as The Traitor and The Yellow-Eyed King
Age: Unknown, existed before light came to the world
Appearance: Human Appearance Hair non-fluffy
Wolf Form
Wolf Form Picture 2
Devil Appearance: His skin turns pitch-black. His fingers become claws. Red tattoos spread all over his body. Six demon wings (3 on each side) rise from his back. His teeth change into fangs and his face becomes more feral-looking. His hair grows in length and spikes out, resembling the fur on a wolf's back.
Personality: Overprotective towards friends, loving towards his family, tends to be the less serious acting one of the group, and also the most lazy. His rightous sense of justice makes him the 'True Good' person of the group. (Hehehehe thanks Rhia for the True Good)
History: Yami is a Devil whose appearance looks like a demonic version of a Seraphim and has plagued the world forever as the Yellow-eyed Devil. He has the ability to change into a wolf.

The Lost Kingdom
He was never born just came into existence into a soon to be confused, chaotic, dark world. A world were you had to kill to survive. Tired of the chaos, Yami decided to unite the demons. He was a demon that was stronger than most and had the ability to grant deals, later classified as a Devil. After much fighting, Yami had united the demons, creating a kingdom that prospered for many years. Then the light came to the world, causing panic to many. Yami thought the light to be a glorious reward as it brought life to the barren land. Humans and Angels appeared in the world. Yami had made peace between the races. However, one trickster, a fallen angel by the name of Lucifer, had began to cause problems in the demon's kingdom. He had become a Devil somehow and began to make the people fear their king and chaos came to them once again. Yami angered by this, left the throne and decided to explore the world and its beauty. His palace and those loyal to him and his ideals vanished. Lucifer had taken the throne convincing the people that God, the humans, and the angels were their enemies. Leading another revolt against them. The revolt failed, the kingdom lost, and Lucifer and the tricked demons were sealed in the center of the Earth, Hell. They were forced to deal with the souls of the wicked, but before they were sealed Lucifer made a deal with Lilith, creating the vampire race, to plague the world. God had given those in Hell a 'curse' before they were sealed, that anything blessed would hurt them dearly. However, this 'curse' had transfered to the Vampiric race as well.

The Brother
Yami had traveled much of the world, much time had passed since he left the throne, and the vampric race had grown. One of the firsts, the supposed mother of the vampires, Lilith, had a strong influence on numerous people in the world; both vampires and humans alike. Men were driven insane by lust of wanting to be with Lilith and to try to please her and be noticed, they massacred many of their kind. Yami had the pleasure of running into a group of these brigands that were attacking a slayer village. Strangely, all were dead except one young boy who had managed to fight them with two daggers. The boy had began to feel the fatigue from the fighting. Luckily, Yami was passing through just as this was happening. The men had stopped their attacks on the boy, thinking they'll get him later, and went after Yami. After only seconds, the large group of men were dead. Yami searced for survivors as the boy rested; none were found. Yami gathered the dead villagers and gave them proper burials. He asked the name of the boy who had awakened from his deep slumber. The boy responded emotionlessly, "Solice." After Solice was ready to leave, Yami took Solice with him on his journey. The two becoming 'brothers' and wandered more of the world.

The Deal
(coming soon)

Weapons: Fists, Claws, and Scythe

Name:Alex
Alias (if applicable):
Age:22
Appearance: 7ft tall red eyes long pink hair wear black shorts
Demonic Appearance:sometimes turns into a bat
Personality (not much to be done if not wanted): evil
History:is mysterious
Weapons (if any): sword and shotgun

Name: Lazarus Isgaidan
Age:700

Personality: Calm and Collected. Normaly Cold though he tends to have his own streak to him. He's truly unreadable in this aspect from all of his years in hell though one could only truly know from interacting with him at length.
History:
Legends are those that live beyond their time told by word of mouth and the script written by hand. Old wise men and storytellers may speak of them while other younger hot-blooded men might revel in their stories before the fires of their people. Legends tell of great stories and scaled battles, daring feats, and challenges unheard of. All of these things describe a hero of legend and consequently they describe fallen heroes as well. Such men live for the praise of their people and strive to be the best that they can be so that they may protect them with all of their heart and soul. Others it happens by happenstance due to their very nature. Some of them fall from grace. I was one of the latter in my people's eyes on both accounts.

The way of the blade marks that which my people followed. Let thy heart show with every strike and parry. Every ring of steel on steel should echo your soul and the resilience that is your being. Let it show thy intentions and mark thou as thou art...and never fall to the temptation that is power. My people were broken into sects of the planet on the plane we existed in until it was destroyed long ago. Many knighthoods and septs of the blade and fist came to signify our culture. It was but one thing that bound us together. I belonged to one such sept of the blade and dagger, a protectorate amongst my race. I danced the daggers with grace and skill, strong amongst them and courageous by their standards. Honor marked my stride as did the pride of having it until the demon Malificient came to be.

This demon was the bane of our existence, ruling over his armies of death and power. He wished to transform us into his own warriors to bend to his will but he knew us too resilient for such a thing. Our people were too long bound to our ways and too honorable to be twisted by his tricks and so he would eventually wage war against us so that he might force us into his servitude. I led the first protectorate squads of the Hades Territories by choice...such a fool I was. My men and I saw first battle against Malificient's power, a terrible thing. He rattled us to the very core. We fell that day in more ways than one. I fell to his own blade, that obsidian sheen of energy that made of his own unlife force. They said that when it pierced the heart it tainted it and drew out the wicked temptations of the mind and so it did to me. He killed me that day, but I rose anew. I became a general of his armies with the skills of a Niendali, my clan, to back it. We were taught in my time not to wield the blade unless our intent was to kill but to use the dagger for protection and disablement. In these days my blade danced with a sheen of blood and none that met it lasted long enough to tell the tale.

My people began to fall faster with every loss. Malificient gained knowledge of us through every soul he managed to twist and he used this to his advantage and what was truly sad was....that I followed him every step of the way at the crook of his finger. I was but a puppet to his whim, no longer Niandali at heart but instead a twisted form of what I once was. I lead the death squads of the Azra Bokai through Antares, slaughtering the warriors of the Royal blood. So hard did they fight to no avail for they fought their own people...and their own brothers and sisters. In the end, I gazed into the eyes of Lord D'navino myself with cold hatred marked by my new master as I drove that wicked blade into his heart. The pure king laid his hands on me in that passing moment and wept for my soul. He wept for all who had fallen in those final moments and died a final death that those of us could never truly achieve anymore in our twisted states. His mortal tears softened the darkness in my heart and set into a pattern that over millenia might one day crack the shell of evil that consumed me.....but not then. If ever I felt remorse during my actions it was then in those moments of truth but i'd move on stronger than I had been before with the strength of his soul powering my blade.

My power derived at this point solely on my own but in time I would be bestowed a portion of the demonic armies that Malificient had to offer. They were endless it seemed with strength numbering high on the standards of the known levels of hell. The demon lord had truly gained much strength in his time and all of those who fell to him were ultimately his. My reign over these creatures was that of an iron grip, holding them in check with brute force belying my own nature. These regions of hell would know my name and face. Beings would tremble by my name and I reveled in it. Only in time could I ever come to learn just how wrong it all was....and just how horrible I was for committing the acts that I would.



The year nears passed now to a time when warriors have arisen. True heroes of legend walk the lands of the planes...and Earth...protecting it from the evil that lurks beyond every corner. I would witness the one known as Senrazi Jachimm on his travel through hell, marking his progress with a dark desire to be once again what he was. I would in turn put my hand into some of the very events that made his path all the more treacherous during his time heading back to fight the enemy of his people and so I would lay low through that time, biding myself as I observed the hero of heroes. Time passed and I all but forgot about that man, leading myself deeper and deeper into hell for to the heart of the darkness before being stopped by Malificient. He began to fear my strength and hated me for it by now even knowing my oaths never come broken. It was now that after seeing the good in the warriors of the present day and their hardship that the gift Lord D'navino bestowed on me would break the evil shell of my heart and shatter it a hundred fold. I felt true remorse for all of the years I had walked the path of sin and damnation. I couldn't let those of the Azra Bokai know though...for they'd slay me before I could truly save them from the wickedness that had consumed them. With destruction of the evil within I lost much power. They'd come to see it in time but for now I held it, waiting for that chance.

It was now that the one known as the the Holy One, Father Victor Belmont came across me in the realms of Hell. A true man of legend he would be with a mighty smoking mace. I could sense something in his heart, something good about his person that perhaps none in Hell could truly understood. His mace blew through the levels of hell, resounding like a wave of wrought fury and strength when his wards did not work for him that only one who truly knew such a thing could have imagined. Something fueled him through the darkness and I couldn't help but follow his path. His mace won over my own blade and so I was his though I had been long to the code of the Protectorate squads. This may have brought more trouble unto us in these times as Malificient was furious at the defection of one of his Generals but in the end I could but follow for it was where my heart truly led. A deeper yearning for the light filled it, and this man was like a beacon in the depths of darkness.

When the time came, his being shimmered and dissapeared from Hell through the portal he'd come through, back to whence he came after his mission had been accomplished in my world. I hesitated here, knowing well Earth from what I had learned....unsure if it was a place I should truly go if there were men such as him that could vanquish me. But I chose my path and stepped through that shining portal to reawaken in my human form in this city...a new home...and possibly a new beginning though my heart was still tainted. In time the prophets would have spoken my path true to Damnation to follow back along the path of Demons but not under the Lord Malificent.

Weapons: Two daggers that he keeps at his side and a long sword on his back. The sword expands into a massive blade of Obsidian on transformation. The red tinged pieces along his armor also work as expanding steel heated blades that react on the use of his power.

Name: Æmreic Deadra Wyvern
Alias (if applicable): Merlin, Rasputin, Millennium earl.... every person that had a bad influence on politics(or reputed to be a sorcerer). Emmy is his official nickname
Age: 800 or so.
Appearance:
Demonic Appearance:
Personality : He's sly, and often brutal. He prefers to torture people to death than give them a easy out. He's also prone to a mood swing or two every century.
History: Commonly known as most of the most influential 'sorcerers' and is often hated for what he had done on earth. Most images of 'Dragons' in myth appeared because of him. He makes a point to stay in his tower, mainly because most of dragon kind was wiped out, along with a bulk of Wyvern kind. He was the 12th generation of Wyvern. If you cant tell, he had a clumsy youth. At the moment, He is considered the greatest Mage in hell, a side from the lord Mephistopeles, his mentor for near 400 years. Though, with his queen, his distant cousin, movement up to the surface, he has decided to come out of his tower.
Weapons (if any): He carries a stave in hell, and when on earth, the stave hangs from his wrist as a small charm till he calls it.
Abilities: spell casting, of course. Shape shifting. sixth sense precognition

Name: Sanctus ex Murmur
Alias: Sanctus
Age: Nearly as old as existence itself

Appearance: http://black-wyverness.deviantart.com/art/Sanctus-ex-Murmur-123948216
About 5'9" in height, his lean build is concealed beneath a formal dress suit. The features of his face are softly crafted though his darkly colored eyes are sharp and cunning. The sides of his raven-black hair are pulled back into a braid, wound around his skull and clipped at the back, finishing off as a braided extension. The rest of his hair is cut at his ankles. He wears white gloves and a tie over his dress shirt, beneath a black topcoat which is split in the middle at the back like a swallowtail.

Demonic Appearance (angel): (Picture is underway.) He retains his mortal appearance, but his eyes shift to the striking golden sheen of an eagle's eyes, and glowing golden runes scrawl over his body with the seal of Great Duke Murmur (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murmur_(demonology)/) beset in his forehead. Nearly ethereal wings, black with white-tipped plumes, span out at 15 feet combined. The tips of his hair are also washed in white.

Demonic Appearance (gryphon): (Picture is underway.) This is his true form. Being one of the oldest of Great Duke Murmur's mounts, he is a massive gryphon, a beast with the head and torso of a bird and the lower body of a lion. From foot to shoulder he is 4'9", from chest to hindquarters he is 6 feet, and a 5-foot tail lashes behind him. His wingspan is 15 feet. His form is firm and powerful, his sleek and carefully groomed feathers and fur a deep raven black. The tip of his wings are white. The tuft at the end of his tail is white, and his underbelly is white. His hooked beak and avian legs are golden, his claws black. Random feathers and furs along his body are golden.

Personality: The prospect of Sanctus ex Murmur possessing a personality is questionable, but there can be no denying it exists. By default he is a peaceful individual with a strangely ravenous appetite. He bears no shyness toward anyone and his forte is conversation. He is an extremely inquisitive person who never appears to have his own actual opinion, and when conflict comes to him he often avoids it. He may not be shy, but he is secretive, taking care to steer clear of direct answers. He is oftentimes generous and giving, though he withdraws those privileges from anyone whose intentions lie in bringing him harm. Sanctus is usually very content. Ignorance quickly sets him off, and when forced to do battle he is ruthless and usually without mercy.

History: Countless eons ago, there was once nothing. Within a span of time that current time systems would consider as a few days, the earth and waters were made, and life was given with them. And angels and man were made, and all rejoiced. But a rebellion followed hence and from the heavens were fallen angels cast. Demons followed the legacy of the fallen angels. With his fellows was Great Duke and Earl Murmur given rise, and with his rise came the faithful steeds upon which he rode: the gryphons. His first and most faithful gryphon was always by his side. Always, ready to bear his master across the fields of Hell, proudly skimming the rocks as the banner of Murmur fluttered overhead. He stayed by his master for so long that he began to comprehend that which the Great Duke taught: philosophy.

The Great Duke endowed wisdom upon he who sought it, but he did so through trial and tribulation. His faithful mount and familiar learned to do the same. Through his age and through the occult, the gryphon developed an advanced conscience of his own, learning speech, learning thought and pattern, learning magick, until it was made possible for him to take on his own humanlike form. His proud master treated as though he was a vassal and gifted with him a name worthy of his status. "Sanctus ex Murmur" — holy by Murmur. And there were many other gryphons for the master to ride, thus Sanctus was set free to do as Philosophy bid and to do what he willed.

Weapons: In his gryphon form, he has his bare claws and beak. In his non-gryphon forms, he may have a sword cane equipped — a sword hidden within a cane. In all forms, Sanctus can warp reality and create illusion, but he is incapable of any direct damage with this ability.