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  • Old Guild Username: IVIasterJay
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    1. IVIasterJay 11 yrs ago

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I've almost finished reading through all of the IC posts, so I should be able to get something up tonight.

Edit: Unless some of those remaining posts contain hider boxes with massive walls of text inside.
Silas woke up to find that he had neglected to get undressed before he'd fallen asleep. Not only were his clothes wrinkled as hell, but he also had a major crick in his neck. His day got even better when Silas saw the reason why his phone was blinking obnoxiously. A message from Anon? What did he think he was doing now? Silas just ignored the text and tossed his phone onto the couch as he made himself food and turned on the news. He was looking for anything on the fire the arsonist had caused, but the only thing on any of the news stations was the NTE leader trading information for his freedom. After about twenty minutes of not really paying attention to the news, Silas finally saw a blip about the fire being put out scroll across the bottom of the screen. As soon as he saw what he'd wanted Silas clicked off the TV.

After showering and dressing himself for the day, Silas sat out on his small balcony with his not-wine glass. "So, the dark underbelly of this city is squirming at the prospect of being brought to light is it?" He mused to himself as he watched people move about on the streets. Silas grabbed his phone and typed out:

he needs to walk free

After sending that to Anon, Silas left his apartment to go for a walk. This city was going to be the death of him. Hopefully those heroes would be up to the task of keeping a man the entire underworld wanted silenced alive. Not for the first time, the idea of moving to someplace a little less chaotic pushed its way into Silas' head. He'd thought it a thousand times, but he'd never actually leave this city for good. That would be the same as giving up on it.
TheWindel said
Accepted, though fair warning that if he's going to be a player-killer, he'll most likely be hunted down by Sweepers.

I read the thing on the sweepers, but I don't understand why they exist. A lot of the assassin perks only work if they kill unsuspecting targets, and combat against other players is the point of the game, so how is an assassin supposed to be an assassin without being taken out by the sweepers?
Here's a link to my CS which I stupidly decided to edit onto my post which is now buried under about 20 pages already. I don't know what guild would let him in, so right now it's blank. If anyone who's a king wants him though, he can be in that guild.
Cryptik Wisdom has dropped out, so I have replaced Darien with Arianna on the accepted characters list. It's looking like AliceZaru won't be behind anybody though on account of a posting rate only slightly higher then the BPM of a corpse.
Nosuchthing said
Question... Given that Silas only possesses the power of imprinting (according to Stephen's index). How exactly does he nearly kick a man through a concrete wall ten feet away?

Silas was imprinted onto his shoes at the time. He landed a ~50 foot drop by having his shoes absorb most of the force of impact, kicked the man into the wall by amplifying the force of his kick and absorbing the recoil, and jumped out of the exploding building by similarly amplifying the force applied by his legs.

By comparison, all he did with the coin was swap places with it and then pull it towards him, which are both relatively untaxing on the imprinted object.

I wanted Silas to showcase his power on mundane objects at first because I can see him mostly using boring old weapons in most fights.
I'd had Saint's first post finished and ready to post for a day and a half, but I hadn't hit the submit button to post it. Xp
Silas sat out on the balcony of his apartment with a wine glass in his hand. The glass was filled with just water tonight, as it had been every night before for a long time. He'd slept most of the day away after doing a job the night before, and tonight he was going out again. Why didn't evil ever get tired and just take a break? The "good guys" were always left playing catch up. He didn't have time to follow that thought down the rabbit hole though. It was about time to go.

Silas sighed and stood to bring his empty glass back inside when he heard what might have been a muffled yell from the alley not a hundred feet down the road from where his apartment building sat. Did he have time? Yeah, he could deal with this and still be where he needed to be with time to spare. It wasn't like he was one of those costume heroes who needed a good hour's warning if they were to be called upon to save anyone.

He set his glass on the balcony table and bent down to pull on his black shoes, and then Silas dropped himself over the side of the railing and fell fifty feet to the street below. He landed with hardly a sound, crouched out of reflex more than necessity. The sound had come from... yes, that was the alley there. Silas put on his sunglasses, the closest thing to a mask he would ever wear, and walked into the dark side street.

It was empty and silent. He probably would have just left then if the door to one of the building's basements hadn't been left open. But as it was, Silas just pushed the door the rest of the way open and followed down. He found pretty much exactly what he'd been expecting: some street thug trying to force himself onto some moderately attractive passerby. It was so boring dealing with these types day after day. One lazy kick was enough to send the man crashing into and very nearly through the concrete wall ten feet away. He could see that he'd come before anything serious had happened, so Silas just told the woman to watch herself and left.

Okay, now he had to get to the job. He did make one stop on the way there though, to buy a pair of black shoes that were identical to the pair he was wearing. Silas was carrying these when he arrived at the home of one Thrace L. Kasp and kicked in the front door. This was a small job, practically a freebie compared to what Saint's services usually cost. Thrace L. Kasp; age 27; relatively clean record;in reality a serial arsonist; murderer of over a dozen people, including the son of the man who had hired Saint; lives alone. The dumb bastard ran out of one of the rooms to find Saint standing in the splintered remains of what had previously been a heavy wooden door. Saint did have to give the kid some credit though because the second thing the boy did was run back into the room and grab a gun. Well, you couldn't be an idiot and get away with murder.

Too bad he never got a shot off. The second the kid raised his weapon, Saint kicked a piece of the shattered door across the floor at his feet. Kid's face was eating white tile before he knew what had happened, and he accidentally pulled the trigger as he fell, putting a hole in the wall nowhere near Saint.

Saint stood over the boy, the murderer, foot on the gun and the boy's hand. "You are Thrace L. Kasp," he stated flatly. The boy gritted his teeth and nodded, his eyes showing how much he hated the person standing coldly over him. Saint just looked back and asked, "Do you wish to tell me anything before you die?"

"Fuck you! Fuck all of you and your damn powers!" With his other hand, the boy pulled out an old cellphone and quickly punched a button. Silas' eyes widened as the house was engulfed in a massive fireball.

Damn, the kid had really had a thing for fiery explosions. Saint hung in the air for a moment, watching on as the force of the explosion spread the flames onto a neighboring house. Then he started falling back towards the ground as the momentum from his jump ran out. If the fall didn't kill him, the sea of flames he'd be landing in the center of certainly would. Saint's black shoes all but fell of his feet as he removed his imprint and placed it on a quarter he pulled from his pocket. It was a good thing he'd thought ahead and brought the second pair. Saint threw the quarter so that it bounced of the unburning side of the neighboring house, and then he swapped places with it, pulling the quarter back to him and replacing it in his pocket. Removing the imprint barely left a noticeable scratch on the coin.

After Silas was done putting on his new pair of black shoes, a quick search of the house revealed that no one was inside, thankfully. Silas walked outside as the flames began to really take hold of the bottom floor. He really hadn't expected things to escalate quite so fast. Blowing yourself up just because you were finally paying the price of your crime. Childish. Silas sighed, he'd fucked up. At least it was done. He pulled out his own phone and hit three buttons.

"I would like to report a fire."
So... anyone going to try posting something sometime soon? Don't think you have to have massive first posts just because others do.

@Cryptiic, your first post was quite good. I'm looking forward to seeing what your dreamer does in the story.
This looks interesting. Is there a spec that would fit with a support mage? Also, are we creating all our own skills and then sending them to you for approval or something? I ask because I love playing as a temporal mage who is mainly support in these kind of RPs.

Edit: Okay then, I guess a temporal mage wouldn't work for this. I'll have to brainstorm something else.

Edit2: Here's my assassin character. His specialty is intel gathering and covert assassinations. He's also a player-killer... so yeah.

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