Avatar of Lemons

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6 mos ago
Current I've been on this stupid site for an entire decade now and it's been fantastic, thank you all so much
11 likes
2 yrs ago
Nine years seems a lot longer than it feels.
2 yrs ago
Ninety-nine bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles of bottles on the wall
4 likes
4 yrs ago
Biting Spider Writing
7 yrs ago
They will look for him from the white tower...but he will not return, from mountains or from sea...
2 likes

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Name: Aiden-12

Sex: Male

Race: Exo

Main Class: Titan

Subclass: (Pick one) Sunbreaker

Weapons: (pick up to three)

Primary Weapon: Doctor Nope

Secondary Weapon: Vestian Dynasty

Heavy Weapon: Thunderlord

Armor: (Optional)

Helmet: Commando Type 0

Chestplate: The Armamentarium

Gauntlets: Commando Type 0

Boots: Commando Type 0

Mark: Mark of the Deep Stone Crypt

Appearance: (Picture is fine) When inside of his armour, Aiden-12 is essentially a wall of metal, inscrutable. Outside of his armour he's actually much the same, being the exo that he is. His "skin" is a deep, metallic burgundy, detailed with lines of white. His ocular sensors glow with a pale blue light. He has a tall, burly frame, clearly built for close, front-lines combat. He's very strong, as could be expected, and the pistons and servos present in his arms and legs are extremely durable and powerful. On each side of his head, a sort of antenna-esque structure is present, allowing for greater auditory receptivity. He has large, powerful hands and feet, and quite often, he crushes delicate things with his hands, completely by accident.

Ghost Name: It's a Ghost. It doesn't have a name. Aiden-12, in accordance with this fact, simply referring to him as "Ghost", or "my Ghost".

Personality: Contrary with his somewhat-imposing outwards appearance, Aiden-12 is actually a fairly amiable and jocular person. However, he can be rather stubborn at times when he needs to be. When he's off duty, he can often be found simply lounging around the tower having a good time. He does, however, have one major pitfall in his personality: he has a compulsive adoration of anything that goes boom. This is essentially the main reason he wears the Armamentarium: incendiary grenades for DAYS. He takes advantage of his, as he has dubbed it, "bomb-hammer" as much as possible. Occasionally, Guardians that he's worked with in the field have reported somewhat manic laughter upon hearing him activate his super.

History: As an exo, Aiden-12 was obviously built for war. Given his name, his memory has been reset several over the course of his life. His current set of data began just before the Collapse, only perhaps fifty or so minutes before his death. All that he remember from that time are building drenched in fire and oil, collapsing before his eyes as everybody that he'd ever known crumbled away completely. Looking up, one of these enormous Golden-Age structures fell on top of him. Then he was being woken up by his Ghost. In particular, he was working as a guard for the Ishtar Collective on Venus during the Collapse. A simple jumpship presented itself to him and his Ghost, something that the Collective had been working on and had been locked away for a very long time. It was half-finished and experimental. really, it was nearly broken, but he was being hunted. He somehow managed to get it into space and pilot it to the Cosmodrome, where it crashed in foot-deep water in the Forgotten Shore.

It was by sheer luck that a party of Guardians came upon him there, lying in the ruins of a jumpship that was crushed like a crumpled soda can. They managed to keep him safe from any Fallen incursions until he awoke. His right arm was essentially unusable and had to be painstakingly reconstructed over a great deal of time. Finally, he was called out into the field, having been reforged and prepared for battle in the Light of the Traveler. That puts him where he is now.
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Hmm, sounds interesting. I'm in.
Such a shame...I did love this RP.
Little_ninja said
Holy molyLemons are you really trying to revive this after 4 months?The GM is long gone as well and most of the others I assume also are gone


Nah, I just felt the need to post to bring in some closure; I hadn't posted on it for a very long time, and I felt the need to. Nothing big like that.
Gavin

Though somewhat apprehensive, I follow the human to a door with my name on it. He stands to the side, and I hesitate briefly before opening it. "So, what's this test of mine?"

He glares back coldly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to say. Mistress Fio'Rana will tell you when you get inside." Figures. I sigh and crack open the door, walking through somewhat slowly and looking around. It looks like a pretty simple room; just four walls, about equal length, I guess, and a floor. For some reason, though, something about this room is making me really, really nervous. My skin starts crawling and the bracelet on my wrist unconsciously flickers for a moment before reforming in my hand as an elegant curved knife. Staring around, I can see what looks like a loudspeaker recessed in the ceiling. Assuming that Fio'Rana can hear me, I call aloud:

"So, uh, what kind of crazy test are you coming up with for me? Does it involve me dying? I really hope it doesn't involve me dying..."
I'm all for clever ways to get around things :3

Go ahead and depart, I have a feeling we'll be meeting up later if Aría doesn't come along.
Aría

Ughhhh, he's absolutely right. The place could be a bombed-out crater by tomorrow. But there's something both he and the Elvhen overlooked or simply don't care about; galactic quarantine law. I clear my throat.

"In the event of a catastrophic infectious pathogen, a planet's airshield is to be closed off completely and totally until such time as the infection is cleared." Or, in layman's terms, there's a bigass force field stopping us from leaving. "As far as I know, even those crazed assassins don't have something going through a planetary quarantine shield, and even if they did, in all likelihood, there's a blockade of Charon-class battlecruisers stationed at strategic points around orbit. If something slipped through, it would be shot out of space before the engines could sputter." I won't lie; I haven't used my tactical brain much in the past few years, and to be honest, I've missed it a bit.

"So unless you want to take a chance with heavy military armaments, I suggest we all stay here. Whatever happens, we'll find some way to make it through this utter insanity."
Yoooooooo.
Aría

A manic grin is still plastered on my face as I pull the triggers for the last time, the final wave of zombies either bashed, sniped or shot to oblivion. Takes me a moment to unravel the ork's rather heavy accent, but as I figure out what he's saying, my smile grows even wider. Isn't it a little ironic that I'm smiling more during a zombie apocalypse than in normal life? I chuckle a bit and pat the big guy on the arm in lieu of his too-high-up head.

"Now you're speaking my language, man. Let's see what kind of dakka you got."

The guy lights up a cigar. And here I was thinking that he couldn't be any more badass. I load my clips up again, frowning. Only a couple dozen spare bullets left; I desperately need a restock. Good thing, then, that this guy appears to be an expert in the dakka arts. Plus I won't have to deal with an Elvhen. Pretentious killer fucks...Anyway, the clips go back into my guns and a loud clack echoes off the rooftops twice in succession as I cock them. The knife slides from my pocket, where I'd hastily shoved it, back to its sheath, and I twirl the guns, slipping them into their holsters.

"Lead the way, as long as we get away from that damn Elvhen girl."
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