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    1. riurik 11 yrs ago

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Just a heads up, I'll be out of town June 6-15th. So I guess consider Phil on bed rest.
Hmmm may I ask why?
I'm definitely interested. I was actually toying with the idea of doing this myself, but you beat me to it. I have a few different ideas right now that I'm working on.
Also, I agree with KL. The "emotional spectrum" is a flawed idea. It's not completely bad, but "will" and "avarice" aren't emotions. And the rainbow aspect is a bit cheesy.
Lucian said
My aforementioned favoruite character,

I can't take him seriously. I feel like if Deadpool had a cat, it would be Dex Starr
Player Name: Riurik
Name: Tharas
Age: 17 Earth Equivalent
Sector: 2682
Homeworld: Rann
Personality: Intense, brash, idealistic. Tharas knows no half measures; he puts all of hisyouthful energy into whatever he's doing, giving him drive and willpower, but also leaving him prone to extreme emotions. This can cause him to be quick to action, but sometimes this comes at the cost of planning.
Experience: 3 months
Constructs: He prefers animals, especially the prehistoric Megafauna of Rann, including a Mammoth-like creature for sudden impacts, a dinosaur-like creature for sustained mass damage, Rannian lion-lizard for its razor-sharp bite, etc
Former Occupation: student
Alien Power: none
Appearance: Humanoid features with pale, yellowish skin and pointed ears
Brief Bio: Tharas' mother was killed during the Rann-Thanagar war when he was young. He was raised by his father, a paleontologist, who told the young Tharas about the exciting creatures that once existed on Rann.
Notes: Due to the death of his mother, Tharas despises Thanagarians. He tries to avoid working with the other Green Lantern of his sector, Kor Gunnar, because of this.
The wolfman burst from the remaining rubble, with an empty, animalistic rage in his eyes. This was not Fenrir, Phil's team mate and ally. This was the wolf.

"Uhhh, Fenrir? Are you in there?" Phil asked hesitantly. The wolf gave a growl.

"He's not in there. You know it. Why ask?"

The wolf began to snarl and bark. He crouched down on his haunches, ready to pounce.

You're still here? I thought I told you to leave?

"Incolent boy. I cannot leave. Do you think I wish to be in your juvinile mind? As long as you wear my Helm, I will be here."

The wolf leaped at Phil. His attacks were savage and unrelenting, sending Phil reeling from the power and fury.

"Fenrir! It's me! Fate! Phil!" the young sorcerer yelled, barely managed to get a shield between himself and the wolf.

"I know you can hear me, so that must mean you are a cretin. I tell you again and again. Your friend is no more. He is no longer in control. Simply kill this beast and be done with it. I'll even do you the favor of doing it myself."

The wolf had pressed Phil into another room, away from the rest of the group. Phil was starting to counterattack, pushing the wolf back with small magic blasts.

No! I'm sure I could bring him out of it. Maybe I could use my magic...

"Must I remind you it's my magic? Insolent mortal. And you could revert him back to normal, even human form, if you actually knew how to use the vast power at your disposal. If Nabu had a face, it would be painted with a sly smile. However, you do know someone who knows everything about magic..."

You want me to give you control, don't you... The wolf was starting to break Phil's nerve. The spell that staved off the pain from his mangled arm was starting to fray under the pressure, letting the pain seep back into his body. His shields were beginning to crack and splinter; they wouldn't last much longer.

"Better do it quick, boy. You're spent. Your one 'friend' is about to eat you. Your other friends didn't even notice you, they were so busy with their own fight. You know this is what must be done. Give me control, boy!"

Phil wavered for a moment too long. The wolf finally broke his shield, sending motes of light flying. Big, powerful jaws clamped down on Phil's already wounded arm, rending and tearing flesh. "Take control! Take control!" Phil screamed in pain.

"Only once you have learned your lesson. You are insignificant compared to my cosmic power. I am immortal, while you are a fly, living for only a day. When I say give me control, boy, you give me control!" Nabu's voice was hard as steel, cutting into Phil.

"Do whatever you want, just take control!" Phil screamed once more as he heard his own bone crack and break between the wolf's razor vice. Then, he felt nothing. Phil fell through what he now recognized as Nabu's memories, stretching all the way back to ancient Egypt. He had to fight to remember himself, to keep his own memories, lest they be washed away by the torrent of Nabu. Slowly, he clawed his way back to his own mind. Briefly, he saw a young man where the wolf had once been.
"Fen...rir?" Phil said faintly, before passing out next to the ex-wolfman.
I was thinking about making a character that has to work with someone he hates. Lucian, since you made a Thanagarian, I was thinking my character could be Rann, or possibly some species that the Thanagarians conquered. Thoughts?
Phil watched in horror as Hellfire was gunned down. Casting a shield, the young sorcerer tried to get himself in between the would be assassin and his downed teammate. Automatic gunfire ricocheted off the magic barrier.
“I’ve killed a lot of people a lot stronger than you. That’s why I brought this.” Deathstroke drew the enchanted sword once more, and suddenly lunged at the young Fate. Phil reflexively raised his arm above his head as his shield flashed in between the two combatants. The sword first cut into the spell, then into flesh and bone. Pain seared through the sorcerer banishing all thoughts. Phil's senses returned to him a few seconds later, and he found his arm mutilated, Deathstroke no where to be found, and a giant hole in the burning wall.

"Wh-what happened?" Phil asked the empty room. His arm was encased in gold light; he recognized it as a spell, but he didn’t remember making it.

”Your power was faltering, and your will is insufficient. I needed to step in.” The voice seemed to echo in Phil's ears, but he didn't know where it was coming from.

"Who is that?" Phil asked tentatively, peering around the room. The fire was beginning to grow and expand. Where was Frostburn when you need him?

”You are wearing the Helm of Nabu. This is my helmet. You have my power. You must follow my rule henceforth. Refrain from asking any further idiotic questions. It gives away my position. Now, just let me take control, and I’ll finish him––”

I can do this myself, Phil shot back. Besides, I need to help my team mates.
As the young Fate began unearthing Fenrir with his magic, Deathstroke reemerged, preceded by a volley of automatic gunfire.

Nabu's voice whispered once more in Phil's ear. "My powers have been squandered on you far too long. If it was in my power to relinquish the Helm from you, I would. When your will fails again, I will take control once more."
Sorry, I've neglected to post so far. Is this RP still alive?
A wave of nausea hit Phil as he staggered after Hellfire and Orbit. Teleporting normally makes me a little disoriented, but not this much. That's what I get when I teleport without a destination. I don't know what I was thinking. Trust Fate?

Images danced across Phil's eyes: dreams and memories both familiar and strange. He was at the first meeting of the Young Justice group; he surveyed half-finished pyramids from the air; Zatanna chastised him for letting one of the vampires escape; he battled a young sorcerer and his feline familiar. The images flashed faster and faster, discombobulating Phil. He didn't know where he was, or even when he was. Foreign memories seemed to invade his mind, but he tried to block them out. Stumbling, Phil crashed into a half-dress half-god.

"W-where am I?" Phil asked, trying to clear his head. I must be hallucinating, some side effect of the teleportation, the wizard thought. Zatanna always warned me that the most important rule in the mystical world was not to trust anything. That includes Fate.
"Apollo? I must be hallucinating still. I thought he was in a coma." Phil wasn't sure if he was thinking the words or saying them out loud.
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