Don't have one. Certainly not one I would fight myself on
Rilla Member
SuperNova Generation
The Lazy Storyteller
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It turns out that you can, if you message your friendly neighborhood moderator.
7 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 4 mos ago
- Old Guild Username: Rilla
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 3699 (0.93 / day)
- VMs: 8
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- Rilla 11 yrs ago
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7 yrs ago
Current
It turns out that you can, if you message your friendly neighborhood moderator.
9 yrs ago
Working, essentially, second shift blows. I hate getting home after midnight. xD
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10 yrs ago
Any day now, I'll have my first kid. Mini Rilla. #Awesome
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Most Recent Posts
His words uttered last not long on the wind before another person appeared before him, forecast by lightning strikes around his person. The being would not require Alphonse's innate ability to glean knowledge if their manner of Chi manipulation with his ever so brazen display.
What words came from the man's mouth seemed to slither in one ear and out the other, at least the first set. Eyes of sadness peered towards the manner of man before him, registering the various wounds and weapon, a Taichi that now danced with dangerous electricity. This man had come to do battle, perhaps a pawn of Liaison to test the mettle of his would be bodyguard. So much like that trickster this test would be.
His own swords seemed to come alive in his hands, the soft blue aura of Chi gracing their edges as a reminder of who he once was. A man of honor and morals, now a sellsword with a murderous persona. If the man dared attack him, his life too would be forfeit, another bath in the blood of those who sought to challenge the First Sword.
Once more words came from the man's mouth, but these were not ignored. They bespoke his intentions, for they were accompanied by lightning that sang like a violent storm. What wild power and raw energy this man must have possessed to be one with the skies, or was it all for show? Could be wield the wily light of the world, that burst with such intensity. If naught, then the man would fall where he stood, a victim to one who had been a victim since he took his first name, The Warrior.
Today, man of electrical power, it is you who should not blink.
His words were somber, almost as if they were the words of a sad apparition. With his words, the Chi of his soul sprang from him like a fountain, already forming it's first step. For inside him the real process was occurring, the Chi pressing against the bottom of his skin, gathering itself up for the coming storm.
He lifted his right sword, named after one of his sons and pointed it towards his for before bringing, and the other into a stance, the left lower and pointed towards Hiro, and the right pointed upward and angled towards his rear.
What words came from the man's mouth seemed to slither in one ear and out the other, at least the first set. Eyes of sadness peered towards the manner of man before him, registering the various wounds and weapon, a Taichi that now danced with dangerous electricity. This man had come to do battle, perhaps a pawn of Liaison to test the mettle of his would be bodyguard. So much like that trickster this test would be.
His own swords seemed to come alive in his hands, the soft blue aura of Chi gracing their edges as a reminder of who he once was. A man of honor and morals, now a sellsword with a murderous persona. If the man dared attack him, his life too would be forfeit, another bath in the blood of those who sought to challenge the First Sword.
Once more words came from the man's mouth, but these were not ignored. They bespoke his intentions, for they were accompanied by lightning that sang like a violent storm. What wild power and raw energy this man must have possessed to be one with the skies, or was it all for show? Could be wield the wily light of the world, that burst with such intensity. If naught, then the man would fall where he stood, a victim to one who had been a victim since he took his first name, The Warrior.
Today, man of electrical power, it is you who should not blink.
His words were somber, almost as if they were the words of a sad apparition. With his words, the Chi of his soul sprang from him like a fountain, already forming it's first step. For inside him the real process was occurring, the Chi pressing against the bottom of his skin, gathering itself up for the coming storm.
He lifted his right sword, named after one of his sons and pointed it towards his for before bringing, and the other into a stance, the left lower and pointed towards Hiro, and the right pointed upward and angled towards his rear.
The disturbing sound of twin swords clanging to the ground, the soft patter of leaking blood, and the twinge of an aching heart brought back to reality a man long thought a myth. He was once a warrior, revenge and obsession driven to find a way to put a stop to a man who he had deemed a rampant tyrant. Long he had been on this path, ever since their first interaction. He had matched through futuristic wilderness, overgrown with metallic and silicone vine-like wires. He has slept in ancient fields where magic trumped man-made arms, and mythical beasts were plentiful and obliviously dangerous. At every turn he has failed at his goal, he had been within reach, an inch at the most - and still had not managed to gain the power to reach beyond that woeful barrier.
How he longed to end that man.
How the night seemed to laugh, as though his reach and rules and deals brokered controlled their very twinkle. The sun seemed to glare harder with each step, as though the untouchable had placed a magnifying glass between it and him. Each failure mounted up until he walked over mountains and oceans of each. It had started easily enough, a failure was a failure, and he could move past it. Each taught him something about the man, or something about himself. But now, each failure was another weight that brought with it another step away from who he was.
Who was he now?
No longer the warrior who danced elegantly with swords names after children, his own flesh and blood. He was not the man who had competed in the first tournament of many, a simple human against fantastical creatures of lore and destruction.
No.
Life had failed him, he had failed himself, and now he was something different than when he started.
His last bout had not been a pretty one. He had slaughtered the man, and his child, in cold blood with many swings of his left handed weapon. He had not flinched when the small child took up arms against him in defense of his slain father. Instead he bathed in his blood as well.
As noted sounds and pains bought him back to his reality, and baleful eyes cast themselves upon the open field. It was mostly empty, except for a lone tree and long grass. The latter swept across his pants, brushing against him in the light breeze. With each inhale and exhale he could almost taste the Chi that had been expelled here. Battles won and lost.
A flicker of life danced through his eyes, as they flicked downward and he saw the crossed weapons lay on the ground. Almost a second later they were back in his hands, his body part registering what had become an extension of his limbs. He did not return his weapons to their sheathes. Every fiber in his being told him there would be no need for that.
Have you had you fun, Liaison? The Warrior, Dessembrae, your hunter has fallen.
How he longed to end that man.
How the night seemed to laugh, as though his reach and rules and deals brokered controlled their very twinkle. The sun seemed to glare harder with each step, as though the untouchable had placed a magnifying glass between it and him. Each failure mounted up until he walked over mountains and oceans of each. It had started easily enough, a failure was a failure, and he could move past it. Each taught him something about the man, or something about himself. But now, each failure was another weight that brought with it another step away from who he was.
Who was he now?
No longer the warrior who danced elegantly with swords names after children, his own flesh and blood. He was not the man who had competed in the first tournament of many, a simple human against fantastical creatures of lore and destruction.
No.
Life had failed him, he had failed himself, and now he was something different than when he started.
His last bout had not been a pretty one. He had slaughtered the man, and his child, in cold blood with many swings of his left handed weapon. He had not flinched when the small child took up arms against him in defense of his slain father. Instead he bathed in his blood as well.
As noted sounds and pains bought him back to his reality, and baleful eyes cast themselves upon the open field. It was mostly empty, except for a lone tree and long grass. The latter swept across his pants, brushing against him in the light breeze. With each inhale and exhale he could almost taste the Chi that had been expelled here. Battles won and lost.
A flicker of life danced through his eyes, as they flicked downward and he saw the crossed weapons lay on the ground. Almost a second later they were back in his hands, his body part registering what had become an extension of his limbs. He did not return his weapons to their sheathes. Every fiber in his being told him there would be no need for that.
Have you had you fun, Liaison? The Warrior, Dessembrae, your hunter has fallen.
Is this by chance just a thread for a city, or is there an overall RP here?
Seconded.
PS. Still recruiting
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