Mikalo Member
- Last Seen: MIA
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 70 (0.02 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Mikalo 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Xantara Aradia
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Just make a sheet of your character's name, age, appearance, likes, dislikes [optional] and of course history, along with your weaponry and equipments if you have any
A Unrealistic melee/blade fight between two new users.
.. The cancerous sun, the cankerous heat and the cantankerous cold are heart-haunting. Everything in this God-forsaken place is either wicked and warped or blasted and burned. Golden Graisn shimmering in the trillion of sun-spears that rained down from the ball of fire that hung in the sky arrogantly; its callous face toasting the skin of men and women who ran to the wintry cold arms of the ocean. Minerals in the sand swayed to and fro with each passive wave.
Above it, the sky leeered down at them with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon their minds, such was its throttling effect. Their hearts became heavy, sinking their weights down into the sparkling ocean. Pebbles whisked about the underwash like the little pieces of glitter. A galaxy of dragonflies fizzed through the beams of light, wings a-glirr in the magical space between water and air. The sounds of children playing enlightened spirits.
The ground shook compellingly, cracks revealing its true nature of destruction with the area. The source of the beach had become engulfed in flames of red. The crimson red optics poking out from the fire and revealing phalanges that reached out into the air. Flames dying out, sinking into the ground below the heels of his naked feet. There the muscular figure stood at six feet tall, the ruby red kimono tucked into the long and drooping white overalls. Expanding the aura of fear about the beach.
Quickly, the immediate vicinity was infected with the aura of his power. The sword lay sheathed in its imprisonment that was tied to his back, right above his buttocks. The sword was named Sinryuishi.. given to him by an older brother. They were both indeed erudite in the ring of blade fighting. Though, the thing about it was.. it was a switchblade katana. .. It had been roughly measured to about fourteen feet long, the circumference curved inward so that it could easily catch blades and parry them to the side; whilst disarming them.
His long, obsidian black hair had been stuck in a pony tail, the scraggly strands of hair had ran down to stop at the middle section of his spinal cord which was draped with olive-skinned flesh. His hardened jaw bones had tightened along with his teeth crowns pushing and scratching against eachother. The cross shaped scar upon his right cheek had been shown within the vicinity with a slight look from the people about. He stumbled onward; like a drunken fool, the toes digging into the cracks of the ground created by his enormous strength.
A blade in his right hand signified himself to be ready for his opponent
.. The cancerous sun, the cankerous heat and the cantankerous cold are heart-haunting. Everything in this God-forsaken place is either wicked and warped or blasted and burned. Golden Graisn shimmering in the trillion of sun-spears that rained down from the ball of fire that hung in the sky arrogantly; its callous face toasting the skin of men and women who ran to the wintry cold arms of the ocean. Minerals in the sand swayed to and fro with each passive wave.
Above it, the sky leeered down at them with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon their minds, such was its throttling effect. Their hearts became heavy, sinking their weights down into the sparkling ocean. Pebbles whisked about the underwash like the little pieces of glitter. A galaxy of dragonflies fizzed through the beams of light, wings a-glirr in the magical space between water and air. The sounds of children playing enlightened spirits.
The ground shook compellingly, cracks revealing its true nature of destruction with the area. The source of the beach had become engulfed in flames of red. The crimson red optics poking out from the fire and revealing phalanges that reached out into the air. Flames dying out, sinking into the ground below the heels of his naked feet. There the muscular figure stood at six feet tall, the ruby red kimono tucked into the long and drooping white overalls. Expanding the aura of fear about the beach.
Quickly, the immediate vicinity was infected with the aura of his power. The sword lay sheathed in its imprisonment that was tied to his back, right above his buttocks. The sword was named Sinryuishi.. given to him by an older brother. They were both indeed erudite in the ring of blade fighting. Though, the thing about it was.. it was a switchblade katana. .. It had been roughly measured to about fourteen feet long, the circumference curved inward so that it could easily catch blades and parry them to the side; whilst disarming them.
His long, obsidian black hair had been stuck in a pony tail, the scraggly strands of hair had ran down to stop at the middle section of his spinal cord which was draped with olive-skinned flesh. His hardened jaw bones had tightened along with his teeth crowns pushing and scratching against eachother. The cross shaped scar upon his right cheek had been shown within the vicinity with a slight look from the people about. He stumbled onward; like a drunken fool, the toes digging into the cracks of the ground created by his enormous strength.
A blade in his right hand signified himself to be ready for his opponent
A Unrealistic melee/blade fight between two new users.
.. The cancerous sun, the cankerous heat and the cantankerous cold are heart-haunting. Everything in this God-forsaken place is either wicked and warped or blasted and burned. Golden Graisn shimmering in the trillion of sun-spears that rained down from the ball of fire that hung in the sky arrogantly; its callous face toasting the skin of men and women who ran to the wintry cold arms of the ocean. Minerals in the sand swayed to and fro with each passive wave.
Above it, the sky leeered down at them with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon their minds, such was its throttling effect. Their hearts became heavy, sinking their weights down into the sparkling ocean. Pebbles whisked about the underwash like the little pieces of glitter. A galaxy of dragonflies fizzed through the beams of light, wings a-glirr in the magical space between water and air. The sounds of children playing enlightened spirits.
The ground shook compellingly, cracks revealing its true nature of destruction with the area. The source of the beach had become engulfed in flames of red. The crimson red optics poking out from the fire and revealing phalanges that reached out into the air. Flames dying out, sinking into the ground below the heels of his naked feet. There the muscular figure stood at six feet tall, the ruby red kimono tucked into the long and drooping white overalls. Expanding the aura of fear about the beach.
Quickly, the immediate vicinity was infected with the aura of his power. The sword lay sheathed in its imprisonment that was tied to his back, right above his buttocks. The sword was named Sinryuishi.. given to him by an older brother. They were both indeed erudite in the ring of blade fighting. Though, the thing about it was.. it was a switchblade katana. .. It had been roughly measured to about fourteen feet long, the circumference curved inward so that it could easily catch blades and parry them to the side; whilst disarming them.
His long, obsidian black hair had been stuck in a pony tail, the scraggly strands of hair had ran down to stop at the middle section of his spinal cord which was draped with olive-skinned flesh. His hardened jaw bones had tightened along with his teeth crowns pushing and scratching against eachother. The cross shaped scar upon his right cheek had been shown within the vicinity with a slight look from the people about. He stumbled onward; like a drunken fool, the toes digging into the cracks of the ground created by his enormous strength.
A blade in his right hand signified himself to be ready for his opponent
.. The cancerous sun, the cankerous heat and the cantankerous cold are heart-haunting. Everything in this God-forsaken place is either wicked and warped or blasted and burned. Golden Graisn shimmering in the trillion of sun-spears that rained down from the ball of fire that hung in the sky arrogantly; its callous face toasting the skin of men and women who ran to the wintry cold arms of the ocean. Minerals in the sand swayed to and fro with each passive wave.
Above it, the sky leeered down at them with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon their minds, such was its throttling effect. Their hearts became heavy, sinking their weights down into the sparkling ocean. Pebbles whisked about the underwash like the little pieces of glitter. A galaxy of dragonflies fizzed through the beams of light, wings a-glirr in the magical space between water and air. The sounds of children playing enlightened spirits.
The ground shook compellingly, cracks revealing its true nature of destruction with the area. The source of the beach had become engulfed in flames of red. The crimson red optics poking out from the fire and revealing phalanges that reached out into the air. Flames dying out, sinking into the ground below the heels of his naked feet. There the muscular figure stood at six feet tall, the ruby red kimono tucked into the long and drooping white overalls. Expanding the aura of fear about the beach.
Quickly, the immediate vicinity was infected with the aura of his power. The sword lay sheathed in its imprisonment that was tied to his back, right above his buttocks. The sword was named Sinryuishi.. given to him by an older brother. They were both indeed erudite in the ring of blade fighting. Though, the thing about it was.. it was a switchblade katana. .. It had been roughly measured to about fourteen feet long, the circumference curved inward so that it could easily catch blades and parry them to the side; whilst disarming them.
His long, obsidian black hair had been stuck in a pony tail, the scraggly strands of hair had ran down to stop at the middle section of his spinal cord which was draped with olive-skinned flesh. His hardened jaw bones had tightened along with his teeth crowns pushing and scratching against eachother. The cross shaped scar upon his right cheek had been shown within the vicinity with a slight look from the people about. He stumbled onward; like a drunken fool, the toes digging into the cracks of the ground created by his enormous strength.
A blade in his right hand signified himself to be ready for his opponent
Mikalo Moutoku; the deity of Weaponry, skilled fighting, and strength. Created by the the deity who had been the head of the gods that continued to fight over the newfound open throne position. Being created way before things had fallen down low out of the peace that barely held the fighting steady and sturdy to a minimum, he had only been using his swords against training dummies or spars with his brother and sister deity.
Being in the simple human form of a six foot tall figure with a nice muscular build, usually seen dressed in his red kimono and baggy white pants. A thick rope is tied and entangled around his waist and kimono to keep the sheathe from falling outward. The sheathe holds a blade named Sinryuishi, a sword that can control the waters of the earth and heavens. Rarely known, his symbol of patience in battle is represented by his elemental control over the water of the heavens and the earth, and summoning sea creatures just for the salty feel.
His attitude is usually unshown, due to him being completely quite all the time, stumbling about the heavens and watching battles like the drunken fool he is, always carrying a bottle of sake within the confines of his left hand. Just for the fun, he'll jump into battle to either protect or sharpen his blade skills.
His hair can either turn into an obsidian black into a golden orange mixed with a lighter gold. He is olive-skinned, and the sunlight reveals his cross shaped scar on his right cheek. He is the one who invented the sword and most of the metals known to man. He was the deity who had shown man weapons, eventually they began killing eachother. Which is why he is somewhat one of the most hated gods, driven into insanity and carelessness.
Cool! i'll wait and see if others join, and if noone else does then we'll start
Hey, i'm new here. Ive been looking for a fight, i'd like to show what i can do and have a little bit of fun. Hit me up, if interested.
Okay, thanks. Finally someone can answer a straight foward question. I was thinking about making my character the deity of weaponry and skilled fighting, and strength. If this IS accepted, then i'll just put my character sheet out with information.
Interesting, hello! I'm new here.. and I would like to ask a question. We can have both made up gods, or greek gods or Egyptian? Sorry for the dumb questions
I am new here, so of course I would like this roleplay to be simply focused about Mikalo meeting new people, lots and lots, if any people join.. Ya know. All of this would be focused in a small city in Japan.. the plot of the story, villains, etc, will be put out if i see people joining
.. The cancerous sun, the cankerous heat and the cantankerous cold are heart-haunting. Everything in this God-forsaken place is either wicked and warped or blasted and burned. Golden Graisn shimmering in the trillion of sun-spears that rained down from the ball of fire that hung in the sky arrogantly; its callous face toasting the skin of men and women who ran to the wintry cold arms of the ocean. Minerals in the sand swayed to and fro with each passive wave.
Above it, the sky leeered down at them with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon their minds, such was its throttling effect. Their hearts became heavy, sinking their weights down into the sparkling ocean. Pebbles whisked about the underwash like the little pieces of glitter. A galaxy of dragonflies fizzed through the beams of light, wings a-glirr in the magical space between water and air. The sounds of children playing enlightened spirits.
The ground shook compellingly, cracks revealing its true nature of destruction with the area. The source of the beach had become engulfed in flames of red. The crimson red optics poking out from the fire and revealing phalanges that reached out into the air. Flames dying out, sinking into the ground below the heels of his naked feet. There the muscular figure stood at six feet tall, the ruby red kimono tucked into the long and drooping white overalls. Expanding the aura of fear about the beach.
Quickly, the immediate vicinity was infected with the aura of his power. The sword lay sheathed in its imprisonment that was tied to his back, right above his buttocks. The sword was named Sinryuishi.. given to him by an older brother. They were both indeed erudite in the ring of blade fighting. Though, the thing about it was.. it was a switchblade katana. .. It had been roughly measured to about fourteen feet long, the circumference curved inward so that it could easily catch blades and parry them to the side; whilst disarming them.
His long, obsidian black hair had been stuck in a pony tail, the scraggly strands of hair had ran down to stop at the middle section of his spinal cord which was draped with olive-skinned flesh. His hardened jaw bones had tightened along with his teeth crowns pushing and scratching against eachother. The cross shaped scar upon his right cheek had been shown within the vicinity with a slight look from the people about. He stumbled onward; like a drunken fool, the toes digging into the cracks of the ground created by his enormous strength.
Where was he, now? The last thing he remembered before the blackness evolving with hard strength and consuming his memories; were the teachings of his brother. Still.. though, how could he forgot?
"It spreads and stirss, opening the eyes of others around you. The cockyness radiates from most fighters insults me, even fi they're part of my family. It shames the name and brings dishonor to it. Death no longer terrifys men. Blood is as common as the smell of white plums..So he creates slavery and savagery which surpas the horror of dying.
This can only be fought with more blood shed and the cycle, never ends. My sword is guided by the reason of Aquarian No Uradachi.. yet when all is said..A sword is a tool of destruction. Not salvation. The only way for me to keep my humanity is to bury its victims.."
The flames of the fiery pit of fire in the middle of the brothers fueled in his eyes.. an impassive face stared into the violent vertigo of the flames; arms, watching it dance as it burned the wood. "Heed my words, brother."
Above it, the sky leeered down at them with a manacle-grey hue, like an ashen face. It seemed to compress down upon their minds, such was its throttling effect. Their hearts became heavy, sinking their weights down into the sparkling ocean. Pebbles whisked about the underwash like the little pieces of glitter. A galaxy of dragonflies fizzed through the beams of light, wings a-glirr in the magical space between water and air. The sounds of children playing enlightened spirits.
The ground shook compellingly, cracks revealing its true nature of destruction with the area. The source of the beach had become engulfed in flames of red. The crimson red optics poking out from the fire and revealing phalanges that reached out into the air. Flames dying out, sinking into the ground below the heels of his naked feet. There the muscular figure stood at six feet tall, the ruby red kimono tucked into the long and drooping white overalls. Expanding the aura of fear about the beach.
Quickly, the immediate vicinity was infected with the aura of his power. The sword lay sheathed in its imprisonment that was tied to his back, right above his buttocks. The sword was named Sinryuishi.. given to him by an older brother. They were both indeed erudite in the ring of blade fighting. Though, the thing about it was.. it was a switchblade katana. .. It had been roughly measured to about fourteen feet long, the circumference curved inward so that it could easily catch blades and parry them to the side; whilst disarming them.
His long, obsidian black hair had been stuck in a pony tail, the scraggly strands of hair had ran down to stop at the middle section of his spinal cord which was draped with olive-skinned flesh. His hardened jaw bones had tightened along with his teeth crowns pushing and scratching against eachother. The cross shaped scar upon his right cheek had been shown within the vicinity with a slight look from the people about. He stumbled onward; like a drunken fool, the toes digging into the cracks of the ground created by his enormous strength.
Where was he, now? The last thing he remembered before the blackness evolving with hard strength and consuming his memories; were the teachings of his brother. Still.. though, how could he forgot?
"It spreads and stirss, opening the eyes of others around you. The cockyness radiates from most fighters insults me, even fi they're part of my family. It shames the name and brings dishonor to it. Death no longer terrifys men. Blood is as common as the smell of white plums..So he creates slavery and savagery which surpas the horror of dying.
This can only be fought with more blood shed and the cycle, never ends. My sword is guided by the reason of Aquarian No Uradachi.. yet when all is said..A sword is a tool of destruction. Not salvation. The only way for me to keep my humanity is to bury its victims.."
The flames of the fiery pit of fire in the middle of the brothers fueled in his eyes.. an impassive face stared into the violent vertigo of the flames; arms, watching it dance as it burned the wood. "Heed my words, brother."
© 2007-2024