louie221
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Ravenclaw
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- louie221 10 yrs ago
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Most Recent Posts
Sorry it took me so long to post, I had a pretty busy few days and they were not expected.
Indigo stepped across the dorm-room, empty bags and boxes in his hands. He set them at the end of his bed, stacked up in a neat pile. It was a nice room, a nice big window right beside his bed. He could look out of it and seem to be flying, the cars were like ants and beetles. He had a rather large desk on the opposite side, right next to his dresser, that had a laptop sitting on it, opened up to his email. Indigo settled into the office chair that sat in front of the desk and rolled it closer, scanning through his emails. Emails family wishing him luck, emails from a few websites he took part in, and an email from the college. Not just the college, but the FJA club. He clicked it and read through it a few times, making sure he did not miss anything. He was to be there at 3 o'clock exactly. Seeing as it was noon he knew he had time, so he cleaned up the room a bit.
He made sure that the bed was made, all nice and comfy, and he had placed an odd, twisty kind of lamp on his bedside table. As it turned out, it had a darker blue light bulb in it for some reason. Of course it did, he bought it from some old pawn shop. He decided that it could wind up being cool, and left it alone. He quickly checked the clock and noticed there was an hour left. He spent about 45 minutes relaxing and watching the cars go by outside his window. As the time arrived, he walked down to the hall in which club was held. He entered the classroom quietly, glancing around the room.
He saw several people, one obviously the teacher, and everybody else students just like him. He walked over and sat in a chair, being sure not to speak with anybody. He didn't need to make that mistake, he didn't need to accidentally make an enemy on the first day. He found that most people were eating. Hmm... Odd..., he thought. Indigo scanned the entire classroom now. He could definitely tell that he was in the right place. It had many aspects that reminded him of many different varieties of Fantasy and Japanese Animation, just as he expected.
After a moment of thinking, he frowned. He knew he'd have to learn who these people word, and muttered, "Sparare"(Shoot). He studied some of the students, picking out the ones and assuming which clique they belonged to. Everybody seemed about his age. A couple dark-haired boys and two light-haired girls. They all looked alright, none of them looked like they wanted to kill him. "Grazie, God."(Thank God), he said, only a bit louder now. He stood up and decided he could go for some steak. He grabbed a plate an dug in, making the most of the situation.
He made sure that the bed was made, all nice and comfy, and he had placed an odd, twisty kind of lamp on his bedside table. As it turned out, it had a darker blue light bulb in it for some reason. Of course it did, he bought it from some old pawn shop. He decided that it could wind up being cool, and left it alone. He quickly checked the clock and noticed there was an hour left. He spent about 45 minutes relaxing and watching the cars go by outside his window. As the time arrived, he walked down to the hall in which club was held. He entered the classroom quietly, glancing around the room.
He saw several people, one obviously the teacher, and everybody else students just like him. He walked over and sat in a chair, being sure not to speak with anybody. He didn't need to make that mistake, he didn't need to accidentally make an enemy on the first day. He found that most people were eating. Hmm... Odd..., he thought. Indigo scanned the entire classroom now. He could definitely tell that he was in the right place. It had many aspects that reminded him of many different varieties of Fantasy and Japanese Animation, just as he expected.
After a moment of thinking, he frowned. He knew he'd have to learn who these people word, and muttered, "Sparare"(Shoot). He studied some of the students, picking out the ones and assuming which clique they belonged to. Everybody seemed about his age. A couple dark-haired boys and two light-haired girls. They all looked alright, none of them looked like they wanted to kill him. "Grazie, God."(Thank God), he said, only a bit louder now. He stood up and decided he could go for some steak. He grabbed a plate an dug in, making the most of the situation.
Pitch strolled up the path, taking in the sweet smell of the forestry around him. He stopped for only a moment, watching as they waved slowly in the wind, as if they were all pieces of a grandfather clock, swaying back and forth. He turned away quickly, attempting not to get too sidetracked, and began to make his way back to his destination. Just above the horizon, he could see the very top of a huge building. The college. Excitement built up inside of him, bubbling up to the surface until he let out a little yelp of joy. He began to jog and, once, clicked his heels together in the air.
The sun was high, shining brightly upon Pitch's being. He could feel the warmth wrapping around him as if he were being shoved beneath what seemed like liquid sunlight. He did not particularly like this, though, as he quickly ducked into the trees that lined the path. The shade suited him far better. Not to mention his name, it was only fact that he enjoyed the dark better.
As Pitch arrived at the front gate, closed his eyes and thought of his reason for being here. Crazy as he might be, he had not forgotten what he had come for. Images of his lover flashed through his head. He could remember everything, everything they'd done together, and yet she was gone. Thoughts that had been cluttered in the back of his mind had started to make their way back to the front again as he pictured her in the Pit, tortured because of him.
His eyes flung wide open, horrified at what had just filled his head. Then, with barely any thought, flooded his own mind, replacing his love with himself. This felt much better, yes, much better. So much so, that he began to laugh, but not just some ordinary, funny laugh. No, this was an evil, maniacal laugh, one that could not be of anybody innocent. Oh, the people he'd killed, the thoughts he'd had, he continued to chuckle. After a moment, his eyes filled with tears of laughing so hard.
Pitch slowed his laughing only a bit before completely stopped in an abrupt attempt to focus on the task at hand. He stretched his long arms high in the air, and stalked up to the gate, his eyes glued to the building that lied behind it.
"Oi. Who are you?"
Tyrael spoke out to the strange man who was laughing manically just a short while ago. In his arms were a couple of spikes, and on those spikes were rows upon rows of demon heads, severed from their body and making low, weak moaning sounds from their pain. Tyrael had been ordered to remove the heads as they were "In bad taste", though it seemed to work well to ward off demons and orcs. But an order was an order, and besides, he had other uses for the demon souls.
"Hmph. A new student are you? Tell me your name and what your magic is."
Upon the realization of there being another person here, Pitch studied him a moment. His eyes wandered to the heads that the person was carrying. An evil smirk appeared on Pitch's face as they moaned. When the man asked his name and magic, Pitch quickly looked up, having difficulty pulling his eyes from the severed heads.
"L-" he paused a moment and corrected himself. "Pitch, Pitch Black. Necromancy."
Pitch had not used his own name for ages. It had just about flown out of his mouth without his control. He had been called Pitch ever since he can remember, he couldn't remember a time when he was called Louie. Pitch looked at the man intently, waiting for his response eagerly.
Tyrael gave "Pitch" and derisive snort before motioning Pitch to follow him. "Necromancer. Alright than, before your admittance to the college, you'll need to take an aptitude exam to ensure that you're worth the trouble. Normally we'd give you a more standardized test, however at this time we have to make due with what's on hand. So here's your job." Tyrael took Pitch to the field where he had skewered all the demon heads. Since he just started, there was still a veritable forest of at least ten thousand or so heads scattered about. Upon arriving, they all began to let out low painful moans. A few may have even mustered the energy to scream, though only in short bursts.
"I want you to take each and everyone one of these pikes and bring them to the forge within the college. The guards have seen you with me, and I will be sure to tell them that you are working with me. Now this is not a simple task of just picking up sticks, mortal. These demons may be decapitated, but their spirit still lingers on their remains, and they will attempt to corrupt and sway you into doing evil... Or rather, giving into your base desires. So your this is two parts to see if you can follow orders of doing a monotonous repetitive task for a long period of time, as well as to see if you can resist the insanity of doing so. Fail and you will die. Succeed and you can take the next part of your exam. Do you have any more questions before you get to work?"
Pitch listened carefully, staring out at the heads. He felt a bit different as he moved a bit closer, but attempted to seem unfazed. When he was asked if he had any questions, he nodded a bit to quickly.
"Yes, yes I do have a question!" he blurted, cracking his knuckles to take his mind off of the strange sensation he'd been feeling. He looked up to the man and gave a cough. "Where is this forge? Obviously it is inside of the college, but it would be helpful if I knew where to go." he asked, now making his way to the pikes.
He watched as the heads moaned and let out slight shrieks. He could feel the strange sensation more now, like it was inside of him. He tried his best to ignore this and grabbed a pike and yanked it out of the ground. The demonic head gave a feeble attempt at a shriek and began to moan.
Pitch smirked and moaned similarly, mocking the thing. He chuckled and twisted the pike, examining it. He strode back to the man, his eyes glued to the severed head. The smirk had not left his face, the joy of the head's pain distracted him.
Tyrael was only mildly interested in the mortal as he went to work, only speaking to him to answer his question and to tell him to hurry. "Follow the large amount of smoke, mortal. The Forge is always at work. And do not waste time gawking at the damned. You will have plenty of time doing that later. Much later." Tyrael left Pitch to gather the pikes as Tyrael headed back to the college to turn in his bunch. He alerted the guards to allow Pitch to pass, but only if he had a sufficient bundle of pikes and heads with him.
It took some time, but eventually Pitch managed to get all the heads back to the forge. Tyrael had stayed at the forge to deal with the heads and once Pitch returned with the last of them Tyrael showed him the second part of the test. "Demons, if you do not know, are creatures of the Inferno. Upon the death of their mortal bodies they shall return to the Inferno, but they do not remain their for long. So long as their mortal bodies remain in our world however, they cannot return to here. These pikes have been enchanted to "heal" the demons, but only so that their heads do not decay, and allow the demons to return to our world in full force. That, Mortal, is merely one way to ensure that demons do not enter our realm."
Tyrael yanked a head off a pike before putting it onto what looked to be a large anvil, with a intricate rune on top. Tyrael's hands began to glow with magic power, one hand to create motions to focus his magic, and another holding a crystaloid. Tyrael was silent as he began to channel the demon's live energy into the crystaloid, which didn't take too long. Soon the head began to decay quickly in a matter fo seconds, before turning into dust. However, the crystaloid in Tyrael's hand began to glow faintly.
"What you just saw was a Binding ritual. In Demonmancy, Binding is the method in which a Demonmancer would take a soul of a demon to attach it to a being or object, in order to use it's powers for later, as well as keeping it tethered to the mortal world. Binding is not limited to only Demonmancers, however. Necromancers can do a similar, if not the same, technique with the souls of the dead. This is part two of your test, mortal." Tyrael tossed the crystaloid over to Pitch before putting a head onto the anvil.
"You have proven so far that you have the discipline to not be tempted by demons and the ability to follow orders. Now let us see if you have the skills to put that dicipline to use. Under my tutelage, I want you to bind what is left of the demons souls into that Crystaloid. Unlike me this may take you some time, as you must be able to focus on their soul and transfer it into the crystaloid. It sounds simple enough, but failure would result in the demon escaping it's mortal body, or more likely, your own soul being put into the Crystaloid. I can prevent the demons from escaping, but if you end up trapping your own soul into a Crystaloid I will not save you. Now begin." The demon's severed head looked at Pitch pleadingly, knowing that the it's fate inside a Crystaloid would be a damning one. If it had the breatht to speak it would have begged Pitch to kill it now. But all it could do was look at him, hoping that Pitch would understand the wretched soul.
Pitch watched the head for a moment, taking in it's suffering. He nodded to Tyrael, focusing on the head. He copied exactly what Tyrael did, though nothing happened. He frowned, shaking his hands out and limbering up. Taking a few deep breaths, he stretched every possible limb out that he could and focused once more. He put his hands out, copying once more. He noticed his hands felt a bit different, but he noticed nothing but that.
He coughed, and paused a moment, thinking. He was focusing, and everything that Tyrael did. He couldn't help but think back to what his love might think of him right now, failing miserably at what seemed like a simply task. At least to a professional it was simple. Pitch was fired up now, and felt like his love was right there beside him, encouraging him.
He put his hands out again, imitating Tyrael. He focused as much as he possibly could, watching the severed head's pitiful expression. He saw his hands glow faintly, them flickered away. Pitch let out an odd sort of groan, and shook his hands again.
"Mind uh, doin' it one more time?" he asked, his voice shaky.
Tyrael signed and shook his head. "You will not learn by simply watching. You learn by trying, and failing, many many times until you start failing less. But I will help." Tyrael stood up and grasped another crystal. He held the crystaloid tightly while motion with his hand.
"Watch my hand. The movement is subtle, but with purpose. When Binding a soul, your grip must be firm, but you do not want to crush the soul of the demon. You suffocate it, but let it gasp. This ebb and flow between grasping for life and imminate death is what binds the demon to your will. You cannot simply let it free, but neither can you merely slay it. That is what the motions are for." Tyrael's hand was rigid and firm, but with some visualization it does appear as though he had his hand around someone's neck. It was ease and tighten at frequent intervals, simulating the effect of strangling something with just his hand.
"Now look at the demon. See how feeble it is to you. This makes it easier for you to grasp it's essence, to enforce your will onto it. Focus your magics within you to create a spectral hand of sorts, and have it grasp the demon's very soul. Choke it, torque it, but let it live. Like a fish fresh from the river, let it squirm and struggle until it can do so no longer." The demon could only look at Pitch, but as Tyrael began to bid it, so did the head show the effects. It started to grasp for air much more frantically than before, to the point that it's eyes began to bulge and it's mouth motioned words, but as Tyrael would have demostrated, the demon would have no breath to speak.
"Finally, keep a firm grip on the Crystaloid. Crystaloids are merely one of the more convient means of containing the souls of demons. Anything with sufficent enchantments would do. But focus on the demon soul and the Crystaloid. Now that you have grasp the demon's very essence in your hand, you must transfer it's soul into the stone. And your body is the means in which this happens. Just as you must do with the demon's soul, you must also keep a firm grip on the crystaloid, but you must be careful not to crush it with you power. Each time you tighten the demon's soul, keep your grip on the crystal rigid but also loose, to allow the life energy to flow between your hands and into the new catalsys. You must repeat this process many times to siphon the magical energy of the demon into the crystaloid. When you are finished, you will notice that the hand that would hold the demon soul feels empty. Look at what remains of the demon. It has become an empty shell."
True enough the demon's head no longer looked like it was alive, or at as dead as a severed head is suppose to be. Like the one before it it quickly began to rot away into nothingness, as all demon corpses would do. Tyrael tossed his crystal into a container next to Pitch. He pulled another head off a stick and onto the anvil. "I do not expect you to do it as fast as I did. As I have told you, you will fail many times. But as you fail and see your shortcomings, you will realize that they are avoidable. You see your mistakes and you learn to move past them. And you will continue to do so until you can follow the path to success without even realizing the steps you have taken. A song in your heart also helps."
Tyrael walked away from Pitch for a moment and came back with a fiddle. "What you need is a sense of rythme. You struggle due to inexperience. You need to be paced. Too fast, and you will be sloppy. Too slow, and you will be inefficent. You need not only focus, but flow. So sing along as you work. When you can sing perfectly without me, you will see that this will become easier." As Tyrael let Pitch get back to work he turned his fiddle and began to play a song. Perhaps due to the magical enchantments on the fiddle or maybe just because the forge was a strange place, additional musical accompaniment began to play as Tyrael sang.
Pitch watched admiringly as the life left the demonic head and dissintigrated by Tyrael's hand. It was helpful, very much so, to watch him do it again. Pitch thought he had a much better idea of how to do it. He listened to the song Tyrael sang, nodding his head only slightly to the beat of the song.
Pitch moved closer to the head, which was staring him right in the eyes. He watched as the helpless little face pleaded with it's eyes, seemingly begging for freedom. Pitch shook his head not in pity, but in amusement. Pitch began to recite the lyrics of Tyrael's song, hoping that he was not lying about it helping.
"When the Devil is too busy...." Pitch help his hand firmly around a crystal, being careful not to squeeze too much or too little. He looked at the demon's face, consentrating on it's helplessness. He continued to sing, holding the crystal in one hand, his other held out just the same. but without a crystal.
"Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need." Pitch could tell that the demon's expression had changed. It let out a gasp. One, only one, but it was something. Pitch did exactly what he was told. His right hand firmly gripping the crystal, his left open and rigid. The demon gave another gasp, but that was it. It almost had a releived look on it's face. Pitch knew he had failed, but he was closer to succesfully doing it. He frowned, though, disappointed.
He set the crystal back on the table and crossed his arms. He hoped that this was not something he would need soon, but then decided that if it was he would do it anyway
"Shall I try again?" he asked confidently in an attempt to not let the disappointment get to him.
Tyrael quickly captured the demon as it escaped, the only time he paused playing his fiddle. Once the demon was sealed into another Crystaloid Tyrael resumed his song and nodded towards Pitch to continue as he did. With many failures, Pitch was slowly starting to get into the groove of things, notably he was able to sing the lyrics of the song without Tyrael having to lead, allowing him to focus on the fiddle and dealing with released demons, the latter which was starting to become less frequent. Pitch was still very slow, and during their time working he only managed to seal about twenty or so of the one hundred demons he was made to bind, but all things considered it was a rousing success. The fact that Pitch was still alive told Tyrael this student had the concentration to pay attention, so he'll be a good student. Whether or not he'll be a master mage, well, that'll be Uicle's problem.
Eventually Tyrael stood up after Pitch ahd sealed his last demon. "That is enough. You need practice. A lot of practice. And you have come to the right place. Follow me." Tyrael put away his fiddle and led Pitch out of the forge. They stepped outside and began to walk through the college towards the teachers offices. "I am taking you to see Lucilia. She will set you up with a room and other... Paperwork. She teaches Herbamancy." After entering the teacher's building Tyrael led Pitch through the maze of hallways and stairs until they found Lucilia's office. Tyrael knocked and awaited for a responds.
"It's open! Come in."
Opening the door Lucilia was in the process of making recreational drugs to sell to the students later. She looked up at Tyrael with narrowed eyes, but soften her expression when she saw Pitch. "A new student? I wasn't expecting a new applicant... Well, come in, come in! Let me clean up here in just a bit." Lucili carefully moved her drug lab off to a corner of her office near a open window to let the fumes out. She left the room to change into something that didn't reek of the narcotics she had been brewing up, though what she came back wearing looked exactly the same as before. Once she had finished changing she took a seat at her desk and pulled out a thick portfolio. Tyrael nodded at Pitch and left him and Lucilia alone. After he closed the door behind him, a strange noise occured, and Tyrael was gone.
"I am Lucilia Riovas, Professor of Herbamancy and other ventures. To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?"
"Nice to meet you, I'm Pitch Black." he said, glad that he didn't nearly say his real name again. He scanned the room, his eyes wandering all over the place. He could smell the fumes a bit, even as they were draining out of the room. He couldn't help but inhale the scent, it was unlike anything he'd smelled before. But, of course, he knew that it was bad for his health, so only a quick sniff had to do.
"May I ask what that was?" he asked, nodding to the room in which she moved the lab.
He could see just out the window from where he was, and he could see the very tips of the trees. He was just there, not that long ago. It was odd, thinking that he was actually somewhere in which he could learn more of magic. He could remember his way here, it consisted of many long, winding roads, deep forests, and a few incidents between himself and another traveler.
"Oh, that? It goes by many names. Cloud Dust, Moon Sugar, Meth, White Rocks. Do not worry, perfectly harmless. Um... Once I'm finished. I will have some for purchase later today. It's a pleasure to meet your, sir Pitch Black." Lucilia handed Pitch the portfolio containing the documents he would need to read and sign. SHe also took out a few pamphlets and brochures for Pitch to read over about other things of interest about the college. "Inside this journal contains information the college must have before we formally accept you into our institution. It mainly pertains to your health and past affiliations, such as histories of conflict or possible criminal records. While the college accepts all those from all walks of life, we do not provide safe haven from those who would use us to escape justice, but we also wish to help our students and members of the college to work past any of their trauma or phobias. Be as honest as you can, as this information is entirely confidential; only you, myself, and the headmaster would ever lay eyes on these papers. In addition, we also have various extracuricular activities and classes you are free to participate, should you have the time."
Sliding back to her seat, Lucilia pondered what else she needed to say before chiming back. "You do not need to fill al this out at once of course, but the sooner the better, yes? Now, is there any questions you have before I show you where you will be staying at?"
Pitch scanned the covers of the pamphlets quickly before looking up. He thought for a moment, making sure he asked his questions now so he would not feel like an idiot later. He knew there'd be a point that he would have to give personal information in which he did not wish to give, but he did not know how, or when, it would be required.
"What is it, exactly, that I'd be learning here? Obviously magic but..." his voice trailed off. He began to turn, stepping toward the door. "We can go now." he said, regretting he had asked that question. He'd find out in due time, and a little surprise never hurt anybody now did it?
Appearance:
Name: Indigo Q'loer
Age: 18
Personality:
Prefers to be the one in control, he hates to watch something done obviously wrong. He is a reasonable person, understanding most mistakes, but he can definitely tell when it was not a mistake, but done on purpose. Indigo goes by both Indigo and Indy, either one, he does not care. He is a very smart person, quick thinking and witty. Many times has he come up with a good argument to prove an inferior wrong. Indigo likes company and hates when he is the only one around. Even more so when he is the only smart one around.
History:
Indigo was born in America by an Italian couple with distant descendants from Arabia. Yeah, it's a pretty crazy background. He gets his brains from his father, a scientist who studies illnesses and viruses to create cures for them. No luck so far, but he's come extremely close before. He gets his looks from his mother. She is very good looking, especially when she was younger. As for Indigo, he's very handsome and dapper. He always wears a nice sweater or button-up shirt with a tie. Having had a bad experience in America with dressing in "street clothes", he decided over dressing was better than not.
Indigo moved to Japan when he was seventeen because his father had received an incredible science opportunity.. Being new to Japan and all, still not quite familiar with the way of life, he dodges most times he could get lost and confused. He doesn't like talking to people he deems idiotic, and it's hard to tell when your in an unfamiliar country. He enjoys to sit at his window, though, and watch what's going on outside. Often he'll sit with a good book and periodically peek out the window.
Upon arrival, he heard of a nearby university called Chiharu. He was excited about this news, he could actually get a good education. He hoped, anyway. Indigo enlisted and after a short while of anxiety, he was accepted. This was the best news since he arrived in Japan. Dress code and all, this made him the happiest person in the world. On his way there to get a good look at the place, he learned he wasn't the only one. He got quite a lot of admiring looks, which was odd to him, but he certainly did not object.
Being new to Japan, he figured he wouldn't make many friends, not to mention learn to get around, but he was wrong shortly after he arrived. He met a young man, Shourei Yang, who quickly became a friend of Indy's. It was nice to have a friend to help you out in a place unknown to him, and was quickly familiar with the local places. Every now and then they would see the other and always wound up teaching each other something. Indigo liked to learn more about what was going on and such, so Shourei taught him about that, and Indigo told about his own country of Italy. Indy liked to listen to Shourei, as he told and taught many interesting things about things in general.
Name: Indigo Q'loer
Age: 18
Personality:
Prefers to be the one in control, he hates to watch something done obviously wrong. He is a reasonable person, understanding most mistakes, but he can definitely tell when it was not a mistake, but done on purpose. Indigo goes by both Indigo and Indy, either one, he does not care. He is a very smart person, quick thinking and witty. Many times has he come up with a good argument to prove an inferior wrong. Indigo likes company and hates when he is the only one around. Even more so when he is the only smart one around.
History:
Indigo was born in America by an Italian couple with distant descendants from Arabia. Yeah, it's a pretty crazy background. He gets his brains from his father, a scientist who studies illnesses and viruses to create cures for them. No luck so far, but he's come extremely close before. He gets his looks from his mother. She is very good looking, especially when she was younger. As for Indigo, he's very handsome and dapper. He always wears a nice sweater or button-up shirt with a tie. Having had a bad experience in America with dressing in "street clothes", he decided over dressing was better than not.
Indigo moved to Japan when he was seventeen because his father had received an incredible science opportunity.. Being new to Japan and all, still not quite familiar with the way of life, he dodges most times he could get lost and confused. He doesn't like talking to people he deems idiotic, and it's hard to tell when your in an unfamiliar country. He enjoys to sit at his window, though, and watch what's going on outside. Often he'll sit with a good book and periodically peek out the window.
Upon arrival, he heard of a nearby university called Chiharu. He was excited about this news, he could actually get a good education. He hoped, anyway. Indigo enlisted and after a short while of anxiety, he was accepted. This was the best news since he arrived in Japan. Dress code and all, this made him the happiest person in the world. On his way there to get a good look at the place, he learned he wasn't the only one. He got quite a lot of admiring looks, which was odd to him, but he certainly did not object.
Being new to Japan, he figured he wouldn't make many friends, not to mention learn to get around, but he was wrong shortly after he arrived. He met a young man, Shourei Yang, who quickly became a friend of Indy's. It was nice to have a friend to help you out in a place unknown to him, and was quickly familiar with the local places. Every now and then they would see the other and always wound up teaching each other something. Indigo liked to learn more about what was going on and such, so Shourei taught him about that, and Indigo told about his own country of Italy. Indy liked to listen to Shourei, as he told and taught many interesting things about things in general.
(Assassin's Creed - With a Twist)
This map is a basic map of the civil war. Dark blue standing for the Union, light blue standing for the border states,, and red for the Confederates, and white standing for territories not belonging to the U.S quite yet.
During the civil war, most southern states decided to succeed from the Union. They had their reasons, one being that they wanted slavery to be legalized, and two that they wanted to be their own country because they wanted slaver. The Union, on the other hand, would not stand for this. The Confederates started the Civil War by storming Fort Sumter, angering the Union. Though President Lincoln did not really want to go to war, he was forced into it by this attack.
This is where the twist is set in. The Assassins sided with the Union, wanting equality for all races, while the Templars sided with the Confederacy. The Assassins have developed the will to win this war just as much as the Templars, causing the ultimate feud to erupt from the flames of battle. Though the Assassins are not yet known to the Union Government, they continue to destroy plans of the Confederates, wreaking havoc for the Confederate President Davis. They have already stricken a critical blow to the Confederates by assisting the slaves by helping them cross to the Union. The Templars have
The Templars have the advantage here, fighting in familiar territory. They also fight hard to gain alliances with other countries, such as France, in this war. Though they have less industry, they have traditional military training that gives them a huge bonus on the ground. The Templars have a large disadvantage, though, of not having a good naval army. The Templars have been hunting down Assassin hideouts and burning them to the ground, occasionally killing Master Assassins in the event.
The Assassins, on the other hand, have an amazing naval army. Being a larger area, they also have a larger population willing to fight in the war. Unfortunately, they are fighting in unfamiliar territory, and have poor military skills as far as fighting goes. They have already stricken a critical blow to the Confederates by assisting the slaves by helping them cross to the Union. The Templars have begun to strike back by capturing some of the Assassins found with these slaves. Some killed, some tortured, the Assassins are in danger of being killed off. As long as captured Assassins say nothing, it is hoped that they will stay safe.
Assassin Squads:
There are four Assassin Squads, each with a specialty in combat. Not all squads get along though, so you better be careful who you mess with.
Squad One: Brutes
Brutes are the heavier equipped Assassins. They can have anything from axes to clubs.
Squad Two: Shadows
Shadows are the stealthiest of the squads. They usually use the Hidden Blade as their weapon.
Squad Three: Rangers
Rangers use mainly guns as their weapon. Usually they keep a distance from the huge fights, but rather fight from a rooftop or other high place.
Squad Four: Navigators
Navigators plan out most of their moves. Usually they use swords during combat.
Templars may not have squads, but they are equally powerful in war without them, as they may all be skilled in several areas of combat.
Assassin (Union) Ranks:
Initiate
Recruit
Footpad
Veteran
True Assassin
Master Assassin
Templar (Confederate) Ranks:
Recruit
Soldier
Veteran
General
Naval Commander
Assassin Hunter
Who will win this war, the Assassins or the Templars? How will it be done, will the Templars successfully take down every Master Assassin, or will the Assassins finally free the slaves and end the bloodbath? Time to find out, hop on in the Animus, choose your allegiance, and fight for your side!
This map is a basic map of the civil war. Dark blue standing for the Union, light blue standing for the border states,, and red for the Confederates, and white standing for territories not belonging to the U.S quite yet.
During the civil war, most southern states decided to succeed from the Union. They had their reasons, one being that they wanted slavery to be legalized, and two that they wanted to be their own country because they wanted slaver. The Union, on the other hand, would not stand for this. The Confederates started the Civil War by storming Fort Sumter, angering the Union. Though President Lincoln did not really want to go to war, he was forced into it by this attack.
This is where the twist is set in. The Assassins sided with the Union, wanting equality for all races, while the Templars sided with the Confederacy. The Assassins have developed the will to win this war just as much as the Templars, causing the ultimate feud to erupt from the flames of battle. Though the Assassins are not yet known to the Union Government, they continue to destroy plans of the Confederates, wreaking havoc for the Confederate President Davis. They have already stricken a critical blow to the Confederates by assisting the slaves by helping them cross to the Union. The Templars have
The Templars have the advantage here, fighting in familiar territory. They also fight hard to gain alliances with other countries, such as France, in this war. Though they have less industry, they have traditional military training that gives them a huge bonus on the ground. The Templars have a large disadvantage, though, of not having a good naval army. The Templars have been hunting down Assassin hideouts and burning them to the ground, occasionally killing Master Assassins in the event.
The Assassins, on the other hand, have an amazing naval army. Being a larger area, they also have a larger population willing to fight in the war. Unfortunately, they are fighting in unfamiliar territory, and have poor military skills as far as fighting goes. They have already stricken a critical blow to the Confederates by assisting the slaves by helping them cross to the Union. The Templars have begun to strike back by capturing some of the Assassins found with these slaves. Some killed, some tortured, the Assassins are in danger of being killed off. As long as captured Assassins say nothing, it is hoped that they will stay safe.
Assassin Squads:
There are four Assassin Squads, each with a specialty in combat. Not all squads get along though, so you better be careful who you mess with.
Squad One: Brutes
Brutes are the heavier equipped Assassins. They can have anything from axes to clubs.
Squad Two: Shadows
Shadows are the stealthiest of the squads. They usually use the Hidden Blade as their weapon.
Squad Three: Rangers
Rangers use mainly guns as their weapon. Usually they keep a distance from the huge fights, but rather fight from a rooftop or other high place.
Squad Four: Navigators
Navigators plan out most of their moves. Usually they use swords during combat.
Templars may not have squads, but they are equally powerful in war without them, as they may all be skilled in several areas of combat.
Assassin (Union) Ranks:
Initiate
Recruit
Footpad
Veteran
True Assassin
Master Assassin
Templar (Confederate) Ranks:
Recruit
Soldier
Veteran
General
Naval Commander
Assassin Hunter
Who will win this war, the Assassins or the Templars? How will it be done, will the Templars successfully take down every Master Assassin, or will the Assassins finally free the slaves and end the bloodbath? Time to find out, hop on in the Animus, choose your allegiance, and fight for your side!
Username: louie221
Name: Louie "Pitch" Black
Age: Twenty One
Mageblood Type: Obiligatio
Magic Class: Necromancy
Magic Training: Novice
Race: Human
Appearance:
Where Was He Born/Lives: Born in Hysteria, Djarkel.
Beliefs: Common Sense, Intelligence, Hope, Respect to those who deserve it, and Caution.
Does Not Believe In: Stupidity, Mistakes, Faith (For now anyway), Arrogance.
Weapon Besides Magic(IF this is applicable): Throwing Daggers.
Looking For in a Good Friend: Loyalty, Helpfulness, Intelligence.
Bio:
Born in Djarkel, he grew up a dreary child. He grew up in Hysteria, which is fairly self explanatory. The town was an interesting place to live, always some odd news going about, always being changed a bit from person to person. But there were times when it was just too much, either too much exaggeration or too much craziness all packed into a single story. There were, indeed, some lighter stories told, in which his parents told him when he was just a small child. They were of magical powers, heroes saving the day, or the world for that matter. Louie's favorite story was about an evil wizard who had harnessed the power of Necromancy and saved a small village from evil. The wizard's name was Maekul Pitch. Being so obsessed with the story, he was then nicknamed after Maekul. From that point on, most people called him Pitch instead of his real name.
As he grew older, he became smarter, his quick mind picking up smaller details that often led to interesting surprises. Curiosity built up in him, creating little bubbles that popped into life as he became more educated. Slowly, he began to build his knowledge through the local gossip and stories. They taught him a lot about Life, how it was a great thing. Yes, a great thing it was, and so was it's brother - Death. Stories of Death grew popular during Pitch's childhood, giving him a rather dark sense of curiosity and imagination. When he was thirteen years of age, he had learned to build traps, in which he set around the city, tripping, slightly injuring, or angering the locals. Pitch laughed and laughed, the name of the city growing inside of him like a disease.
Later, he had disturbing thoughts of death upon the locals, giving him the opportunity to practice the magic he had heard years ago. Necromancy, just the thought of it, gave him the chills. It thrilled him, the idea of bringing the dead to life. He had eventually gotten the attention of a local and lured him just outside the city. Being as cunning as he was, he got him to an open, quiet spot. He cornered him, revealing a small piece of metal he stole from the blacksmith's shop. He pierce's the local's heart, laughing at the blood that he had just spilled. Moments after he'd done it, he beat himself up for doing it. Killing a man is not right, he thought. But the thought soon escaped him. He practiced on the body, trying to bring it to life, or move it at the very least.
After years of practice, filled with dementia, he had successfully done something, which may seem boring to those who do not enjoy the dead. He had moved the body. Well, moved the arms a bit. They had twitched for a while, and then he had moved them around as if it were a living thing. He needed to find a place to harness this power. To breath in Life and exhale Death. To be the one to decide whether a man lives or dies. Now, as I said, Pitch is a very crazy man, but he has his soft side.
At age eighteen, he met the woman he loved. They got along well in the city, though she was very sane, very sane indeed. Even so, she loved Pitch with all her heart. As did Pitch, he loved her with all of his cold, withered, black heart. They dated for four years before she died. A horrible accident with an experiment of Pitch's. He was experimenting on possession, when it went downhill. He told the spirit to entertain him, something that he'd remember. The spirit possessed a large rock, very sharp on the edges. The rock cut Pitch's love far too deeply to be healed, and died of blood loss. This left Pitch distraught, even to this day.
He swore his life on mastering Necromancy to bring her back, he promised her that as he buried her. With a withered rose sitting atop her grave, he left in search of a place of magic. After less than a year of searching, he found a building filled with mages of different magic areas of study. This was the place, the place of which he could bring his love back. His dementia still flooding his mind, he made his way inside..........
Good Attributes: Good with Knife Throwing, Brutally Honest, Catches Small Things, Smart
Bad Attributes: Demented, Brutally Honest (Yes it's meant to be in here twice...), Slow Physically.
Secret Word: Rebirth
Name: Louie "Pitch" Black
Age: Twenty One
Mageblood Type: Obiligatio
Magic Class: Necromancy
Magic Training: Novice
Race: Human
Appearance:
Where Was He Born/Lives: Born in Hysteria, Djarkel.
Beliefs: Common Sense, Intelligence, Hope, Respect to those who deserve it, and Caution.
Does Not Believe In: Stupidity, Mistakes, Faith (For now anyway), Arrogance.
Weapon Besides Magic(IF this is applicable): Throwing Daggers.
Looking For in a Good Friend: Loyalty, Helpfulness, Intelligence.
Bio:
Born in Djarkel, he grew up a dreary child. He grew up in Hysteria, which is fairly self explanatory. The town was an interesting place to live, always some odd news going about, always being changed a bit from person to person. But there were times when it was just too much, either too much exaggeration or too much craziness all packed into a single story. There were, indeed, some lighter stories told, in which his parents told him when he was just a small child. They were of magical powers, heroes saving the day, or the world for that matter. Louie's favorite story was about an evil wizard who had harnessed the power of Necromancy and saved a small village from evil. The wizard's name was Maekul Pitch. Being so obsessed with the story, he was then nicknamed after Maekul. From that point on, most people called him Pitch instead of his real name.
As he grew older, he became smarter, his quick mind picking up smaller details that often led to interesting surprises. Curiosity built up in him, creating little bubbles that popped into life as he became more educated. Slowly, he began to build his knowledge through the local gossip and stories. They taught him a lot about Life, how it was a great thing. Yes, a great thing it was, and so was it's brother - Death. Stories of Death grew popular during Pitch's childhood, giving him a rather dark sense of curiosity and imagination. When he was thirteen years of age, he had learned to build traps, in which he set around the city, tripping, slightly injuring, or angering the locals. Pitch laughed and laughed, the name of the city growing inside of him like a disease.
Later, he had disturbing thoughts of death upon the locals, giving him the opportunity to practice the magic he had heard years ago. Necromancy, just the thought of it, gave him the chills. It thrilled him, the idea of bringing the dead to life. He had eventually gotten the attention of a local and lured him just outside the city. Being as cunning as he was, he got him to an open, quiet spot. He cornered him, revealing a small piece of metal he stole from the blacksmith's shop. He pierce's the local's heart, laughing at the blood that he had just spilled. Moments after he'd done it, he beat himself up for doing it. Killing a man is not right, he thought. But the thought soon escaped him. He practiced on the body, trying to bring it to life, or move it at the very least.
After years of practice, filled with dementia, he had successfully done something, which may seem boring to those who do not enjoy the dead. He had moved the body. Well, moved the arms a bit. They had twitched for a while, and then he had moved them around as if it were a living thing. He needed to find a place to harness this power. To breath in Life and exhale Death. To be the one to decide whether a man lives or dies. Now, as I said, Pitch is a very crazy man, but he has his soft side.
At age eighteen, he met the woman he loved. They got along well in the city, though she was very sane, very sane indeed. Even so, she loved Pitch with all her heart. As did Pitch, he loved her with all of his cold, withered, black heart. They dated for four years before she died. A horrible accident with an experiment of Pitch's. He was experimenting on possession, when it went downhill. He told the spirit to entertain him, something that he'd remember. The spirit possessed a large rock, very sharp on the edges. The rock cut Pitch's love far too deeply to be healed, and died of blood loss. This left Pitch distraught, even to this day.
He swore his life on mastering Necromancy to bring her back, he promised her that as he buried her. With a withered rose sitting atop her grave, he left in search of a place of magic. After less than a year of searching, he found a building filled with mages of different magic areas of study. This was the place, the place of which he could bring his love back. His dementia still flooding his mind, he made his way inside..........
Good Attributes: Good with Knife Throwing, Brutally Honest, Catches Small Things, Smart
Bad Attributes: Demented, Brutally Honest (Yes it's meant to be in here twice...), Slow Physically.
Secret Word: Rebirth
Heyo!
Username: louie221
Name: Louie "Pitch" Black
Age: Twenty One
Mageblood Type: Obiligatio
Magic Class: Necromancy
Magic Training: Novice
Race: Human
Appearance:
Where Was He Born/Lives: Born in Hysteria, Djarkel.
Beliefs: Common Sense, Intelligence, Hope, Respect to those who deserve it, and Caution.
Does Not Believe In: Stupidity, Mistakes, Faith (For now anyway), Arrogance.
Weapon Besides Magic(IF this is applicable): Throwing Daggers.
Looking For in a Good Friend: Loyalty, Helpfulness, Intelligence.
Bio:
Born in Djarkel, he grew up a dreary child. He grew up in Hysteria, which is fairly self explanatory. The town was an interesting place to live, always some odd news going about, always being changed a bit from person to person. But there were times when it was just too much, either too much exaggeration or too much craziness all packed into a single story. There were, indeed, some lighter stories told, in which his parents told him when he was just a small child. They were of magical powers, heroes saving the day, or the world for that matter. Louie's favorite story was about an evil wizard who had harnessed the power of Necromancy and saved a small village from evil. The wizard's name was Maekul Pitch. Being so obsessed with the story, he was then nicknamed after Maekul. From that point on, most people called him Pitch instead of his real name.
As he grew older, he became smarter, his quick mind picking up smaller details that often led to interesting surprises. Curiosity built up in him, creating little bubbles that popped into life as he became more educated. Slowly, he began to build his knowledge through the local gossip and stories. They taught him a lot about Life, how it was a great thing. Yes, a great thing it was, and so was it's brother - Death. Stories of Death grew popular during Pitch's childhood, giving him a rather dark sense of curiosity and imagination. When he was thirteen years of age, he had learned to build traps, in which he set around the city, tripping, slightly injuring, or angering the locals. Pitch laughed and laughed, the name of the city growing inside of him like a disease.
Later, he had disturbing thoughts of death upon the locals, giving him the opportunity to practice the magic he had heard years ago. Necromancy, just the thought of it, gave him the chills. It thrilled him, the idea of bringing the dead to life. He had eventually gotten the attention of a local and lured him just outside the city. Being as cunning as he was, he got him to an open, quiet spot. He cornered him, revealing a small piece of metal he stole from the blacksmith's shop. He pierce's the local's heart, laughing at the blood that he had just spilled. Moments after he'd done it, he beat himself up for doing it. Killing a man is not right, he thought. But the thought soon escaped him. He practiced on the body, trying to bring it to life, or move it at the very least.
After years of practice, filled with dementia, he had successfully done something, which may seem boring to those who do not enjoy the dead. He had moved the body. Well, moved the arms a bit. They had twitched for a while, and then he had moved them around as if it were a living thing. He needed to find a place to harness this power. To breath in Life and exhale Death. To be the one to decide whether a man lives or dies. Now, as I said, Pitch is a very crazy man, but he has his soft side.
At age eighteen, he met the woman he loved. They got along well in the city, though she was very sane, very sane indeed. Even so, she loved Pitch with all her heart. As did Pitch, he loved her with all of his cold, withered, black heart. They dated for four years before she died. A horrible accident with an experiment of Pitch's. He was experimenting on possession, when it went downhill. He told the spirit to entertain him, something that he'd remember. The spirit possessed a large rock, very sharp on the edges. The rock cut Pitch's love far too deeply to be healed, and died of blood loss. This left Pitch distraught, even to this day.
He swore his life on mastering Necromancy to bring her back, he promised her that as he buried her. With a withered rose sitting atop her grave, he left in search of a place of magic. After less than a year of searching, he found a building filled with mages of different magic areas of study. This was the place, the place of which he could bring his love back. His dementia still flooding his mind, he made his way inside..........
Good Attributes: Good with Knife Throwing, Brutally Honest, Catches Small Things, Smart
Bad Attributes: Demented, Brutally Honest (Yes it's meant to be in here twice...), Slow Physically.
Secret Word: Rebirth
Username: louie221
Name: Louie "Pitch" Black
Age: Twenty One
Mageblood Type: Obiligatio
Magic Class: Necromancy
Magic Training: Novice
Race: Human
Appearance:
Where Was He Born/Lives: Born in Hysteria, Djarkel.
Beliefs: Common Sense, Intelligence, Hope, Respect to those who deserve it, and Caution.
Does Not Believe In: Stupidity, Mistakes, Faith (For now anyway), Arrogance.
Weapon Besides Magic(IF this is applicable): Throwing Daggers.
Looking For in a Good Friend: Loyalty, Helpfulness, Intelligence.
Bio:
Born in Djarkel, he grew up a dreary child. He grew up in Hysteria, which is fairly self explanatory. The town was an interesting place to live, always some odd news going about, always being changed a bit from person to person. But there were times when it was just too much, either too much exaggeration or too much craziness all packed into a single story. There were, indeed, some lighter stories told, in which his parents told him when he was just a small child. They were of magical powers, heroes saving the day, or the world for that matter. Louie's favorite story was about an evil wizard who had harnessed the power of Necromancy and saved a small village from evil. The wizard's name was Maekul Pitch. Being so obsessed with the story, he was then nicknamed after Maekul. From that point on, most people called him Pitch instead of his real name.
As he grew older, he became smarter, his quick mind picking up smaller details that often led to interesting surprises. Curiosity built up in him, creating little bubbles that popped into life as he became more educated. Slowly, he began to build his knowledge through the local gossip and stories. They taught him a lot about Life, how it was a great thing. Yes, a great thing it was, and so was it's brother - Death. Stories of Death grew popular during Pitch's childhood, giving him a rather dark sense of curiosity and imagination. When he was thirteen years of age, he had learned to build traps, in which he set around the city, tripping, slightly injuring, or angering the locals. Pitch laughed and laughed, the name of the city growing inside of him like a disease.
Later, he had disturbing thoughts of death upon the locals, giving him the opportunity to practice the magic he had heard years ago. Necromancy, just the thought of it, gave him the chills. It thrilled him, the idea of bringing the dead to life. He had eventually gotten the attention of a local and lured him just outside the city. Being as cunning as he was, he got him to an open, quiet spot. He cornered him, revealing a small piece of metal he stole from the blacksmith's shop. He pierce's the local's heart, laughing at the blood that he had just spilled. Moments after he'd done it, he beat himself up for doing it. Killing a man is not right, he thought. But the thought soon escaped him. He practiced on the body, trying to bring it to life, or move it at the very least.
After years of practice, filled with dementia, he had successfully done something, which may seem boring to those who do not enjoy the dead. He had moved the body. Well, moved the arms a bit. They had twitched for a while, and then he had moved them around as if it were a living thing. He needed to find a place to harness this power. To breath in Life and exhale Death. To be the one to decide whether a man lives or dies. Now, as I said, Pitch is a very crazy man, but he has his soft side.
At age eighteen, he met the woman he loved. They got along well in the city, though she was very sane, very sane indeed. Even so, she loved Pitch with all her heart. As did Pitch, he loved her with all of his cold, withered, black heart. They dated for four years before she died. A horrible accident with an experiment of Pitch's. He was experimenting on possession, when it went downhill. He told the spirit to entertain him, something that he'd remember. The spirit possessed a large rock, very sharp on the edges. The rock cut Pitch's love far too deeply to be healed, and died of blood loss. This left Pitch distraught, even to this day.
He swore his life on mastering Necromancy to bring her back, he promised her that as he buried her. With a withered rose sitting atop her grave, he left in search of a place of magic. After less than a year of searching, he found a building filled with mages of different magic areas of study. This was the place, the place of which he could bring his love back. His dementia still flooding his mind, he made his way inside..........
Good Attributes: Good with Knife Throwing, Brutally Honest, Catches Small Things, Smart
Bad Attributes: Demented, Brutally Honest (Yes it's meant to be in here twice...), Slow Physically.
Secret Word: Rebirth
In
Fantasy and Japanese アニメーション 531 or FJA 531: Limited Seating
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Yeah, ok, then I'll give it a go!
In
Fantasy and Japanese アニメーション 531 or FJA 531: Limited Seating
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Hello, I really want to join but there's one thing - I don't know much about anime. Everyday posts may be a slight issue on occasion, but all-in-all I'd be pretty active. Is this ok?
I took a look and it seems great! Do I just send in an application thingy there, or elsewhere?
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