• Last Seen: 10 yrs ago
  • Old Guild Username: Cifer
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 579 (0.15 / day)
  • VMs: 0
  • Username history
    1. Soul 11 yrs ago

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Litepow said
Nakamura said with a smirk. Yami was just as intimidating as the lunchroom chatter suggested: He was burly, mean looking, and even in his moments of what seem to be peace, he looked to be on edge and ready for a fight. He was the embodiment of what a higher education is afraid to produce, a true brute. Despite this, Nakamura tried to straighten himself out and put on a casual mask. Nakamura couldn't help but feel just the teensiest bit afraid of Yami. After all, there was only about a 4 inch height difference and Nakamura was obviously not strong based on an eye test alone.


"A legend?" Yami raised a sharp black eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest and giving the shorter, yet older teen a surprised expression. He understood that quite a few people knew him as the Close Quarters Combat captain, but a legend? Pshaw! "That's cool. I gotta head to the off-" he began, but was cut off by the intercom suddenly blaring from beside his ears. God damn it.

"Yami Kitsugaia report to the offi-"

"Shut the fuck up! Raptor Jesus!" He groaned, flipping the cameras the one-fingered salute, before turning back around and giving Nakamura the peace sign. "Gotta split. Peace out." Yami turned around fully, and jogging towards the office. If he kept the man waiting a second longer, than he'd have an aneurism.
Name: Sinpher 'Sin' Legionaire

Age: Sin's appearance signifies someone of youthful age, yet his eyes are that of a hardened spirit. He is within his early twenties, but spiritually he feels as if he is, at the least, in his fifties. (23 years of age).

Race: Humon

Affinity: Fire

Class: Mercenary

Personality:

Biography:

Appearance/Equipment: When one looks at Sin's form, a multitude of observations could be made on his pure physical and outmost layer. Sinpher's skin is a dusty, yet fair tanned color that represents the number of hardships and elemental damage, both natural and combative, he has taken over the years. His physique is a natural balance between muscular and slender, made for both agility, nimbleness, and swiftness with sinewy yet taut and wiry muscles for an enhancement of strength. Sin's face is naturally set into a wild, guttural, and eager grin, small wrinkles on the corner of his lips only making the primal facade look even more sincere, along with jagged, angry-red scars that tears from between his eyebrows and right over his lips, ending near the bottom of his chin. Angry, yet determined and focused crimson eyes, sharply curved eyebrows, and long, messy black hair is the only other noticeable features on his face and head, his strong, chiseled jawline and cheekbones cleanly shaved.

Sin's apparel isn't the most unusual that's been seen in this realm. He's usually, and by usually I mean he's never seen without his travelling cloak - A long, gray, battle-tattered, and durable coat made of thick, water and flame-resistant material, something tanned with both leather and iron flints. It's designed with a chainmill-protected hood that's matted with black, warm wolf fur, with the lip of the hood pulled down to leave Sin's face hidden in shadows, with his scarred lower face the only evidence of a being. The cloak acts much like a protective cape/hood combo as well, with the cloak having no sleeves, revealing Sin's muscular arms - and allowing for increased range of mobility. The cloak is clasped at the collarbone by a mottled gray shackle, locking it into place onto Sin's armor and other clothing, providing the man with a lethal, mysterious image.

Underneath the durable material, Sin wears protective gear that provides an equal amount of defense and mobility. An iron chest-piece, matted with gray wolf fur and padded cotton cloth acts as his chest-piece, with numerous pockets and pouches sewn into the dependable armor for misc. things such as canteens and maps. A small length of mottled gray chain dips around at random intervals, hooked with fangs of treasure and trophy - bear claws, shark fangs, and even a rather impressive figure of the large, razor-sharp molar of a wolverine. It's skin-tight in it's fitting, though there's an extra layer of leather and chainmill, greased to not restrict agility or silence, hidden under the first layer, to provide protection from both the cold and the piercing and slashing prowess of both swords and arrows alike. His iron grieves are made of relatively the same material, sans the extra layer of chainmill and hardened, dried leather. It's mostly made for sturdy protection, with greased cloth built around the ankles and knees. Boots, soft yet durable, takes up his final slot of armory equipment, with an extra layer of cotton cloth hidden under the soles for environmental protection.

Weapon-wise, in Sin's honest, and slightly paranoid opinion, one cannot have too many safety precautions. It just so happens that this motto applies to him as well. He carries a substantial amount of lethal items, but the more noteworthy ones are the ones that no one can see. He has a ring of throwing axes, around 10 in total, strapped to the back of his waist, while he keeps three self-created 'smoke-pellets' on his breast pocket. It's basically a shell of flour and granite, mixed together to create a giant smoke cloud of gray and whiteness, very good to create confusion and escape enhancements. Stored in the other breast pocket is three self-created 'bomb-pellets'. They're basically shells of gunpowder and flint, with a small pin on the top to set off the chain reaction. Great for times where area damage is needed,

And for his main weapon; a durable, agile, yet dependably sharp and powerful iron shortsword made with rich iron metal. The sword is, like all shortswords, sharp, fast, and hardy, made for both piercing and slashing attacks. The hilt is skinny and short, with a curved guard melded exactly for Sin's gloved hand.
: D
skrubby skrub skrub
Thank you! Someone gets it!

epiphany

litepow

skrubs
Anyways, for anyone wondering, I'm going to start de ded actun when my character gets to the principal's office and junk, so be patient~!
"Damn teacher, damn principal, damn school, damn country..." If one were to look at Yami Kitsugaia at that exact moment, they would be both fearful and awed by the waves of pure annoyance and anger that seemed to be pulsing off of the tall, broad-shouldered boy in waves. Being sent to the principal's office wasn't something that was entirely new to him. After all, he was one of the biggest troublemakers in the school - and it wasn't just because of the rebellious hair and his refusal to wear the school's stuffy ass uniform. He often just did things that he wanted to do, whether it be making wonderful spraypaint art on the roof of the school's building - more often then not it being his regular 'symbol of vandalism', which is usually a large white skull with demonic red horns coming from it's cranium. Picking fights with the officers, starting arguments just to see the other part become pissed, and then beating their own skull into the ground under a false pretense of it being self-defense. All in the fun of things.

But, for some reason, he wasn't feeling the whole 'sitting in the office twirling a ballpoint pin intimidatingly' act was going to work. He had way too much energy due to being cooped up in that stifling classroom with that stifling, wrinkly-assed old bat that went by the human name of 'Nemu', despite her mother and father both being orcs that were sent from World of Warcraft to create an abomitable monster of a daughter. Yeah...it was pretty obvious to see that he was pissed. The hallways seemed to stretch on for hours as the boy walked towards the long corridor that lead to the entrance of the school - and therefore, to the principal's office. That is, until some wise smartass decided to walk by him with a muttered 'Asshole stole my haircut'. Asshole turned to walk to another hallway - just in time, too. Otherwise, an extremely sharp, extremely jagged, and extremely painfully wicked pocketknife would have been embedded inside of his pin-brain. Too bad the wall beside him wasn't lucky enough

"Fucker..." Yami cursed, rather loudly and bluntly, yanking the knife from the wall and swiftly pocketing the blade. That boy was...who? Oh....Matthew Humus? Matthew Hymen? Someone he didn't really know all that well, to be honest. 'Psh, let's go with that.' Chuckling to himself, Yami began walking once more, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The principal office waits for no one. Brushing past a shorter student on his 'rush to the office', Yami began walking away with a muttered apology, but was stopped by the sound of the boy's voice.

"What's the rush, guy?"

"The Principal wants to attempt molestation on another student before the feds decide to bomb this place. Anyways, yo." From the sound and appearance of the boy, he seemed to be someone cool and casual. Talking to him seemed moderately better than going to the principal's office.
Oh, sorry, I thought one of my co-GMs accepted you.

Yes, you are accepted!
yo wot m8

Also, Expllo, is your character in the CQC (Close Quarters Combat) club? He seems like he'd be in something like that.
No.

Gods no.
Matthew is accepted.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet