TheBiddz Member
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- TheBiddz 11 yrs ago
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What? They are most definitely NOT the underdogs. They're a giant fuck all space armada. Especially when Skallagrim gets back and they actually start doing things. Once their High Tier Leader starts moving, things will really get back into play.
Man, that old man really has some moves. Moves that involved getting punched in the face, apparently. Well that's lame. Khold know's for a fact he can move faster than that, he saw it happen. I mean come on dude. He sighs and shakes his head, shivering a bit. "Goddamn I hate this place." Zipping up his jacket all the way, he buries his face into the collar. "I want to go back to Florida, where at least it's a bit warm." Not that it was ever really warm for Kholdony. Hell, wandering around to check that burning fire out seems like almost a good idea right now. It wouldn't do much to him. Fire pretty much quenches itself whenever he gets within 10 feet of it. Or at least it CAN quench itself. When Khold's on full output, he freezes everything, even down to the stuff in the air. Oxygen, hydrogen, carbon dioxide. All of it. And frozen oxygen, well, to same that it's not very burnable is the understatement of the century.
Khold wonders whether or not he should help. He wants to, he's well aware that he can do some damage, though he doesn't know what the Bald Guy can do, but honestly he thinks that the Old Guy would just get mad at him for interrupting his glorious battle. Or something. He looks like the kind of Old Dude to say some shit like that. Shrugging his shoulders, the massive down coat rustling with the movement. He's glad he has the coat. Even if it doesn't exactly make him warmer, it does make him feel safer. Kind of like a security blanket. Oh yeah, and the fact that he knows most predators won't be able to penetrate the coat, and even if they can, its their own death sentence, cause now they're gonna freeze to death. Yeah, all warm and toasty with that though. Kholodny pinches his brow. He just wanted to have a nice relaxing day.
"Oi there traveler! Well now! What do we have here?! I hope you don't mind me saying, but you surely don't look like you’re from around here do you?"
Kholodny jumps a bit, not expecting to hear anyone calling to him. "What the hell was that?" He mutters, far too quietly for anyone to hear. Looking up and behind him. (Right? Is this Khold's Six o Clock or Khazna's?) he spots the man.
"Ah! But where are my manners? My name is Tablurath, Cardinal of the 6 fleet and conquistador extraordinaire! Who might you be if I may ask? And from where might you hail?" Oh, well at least he's pleasant enough. Kholodny grins and creates a pillar of ice under his feet, with a three foot radius, going up about ten feet, until he is level with the Cardinal. "Well a good day to you as well sir. My name is Kholodny Zima, which is Russian for 'Cold Winter'. Yes, I know, you don't need to say it, it is indeed a very fitting name." He removes his left hand from its coat pocket and begins to rub his chin. "So I'm taking it that you're the leader of all those ships that just came out?" He takes a few steps back on the platform, the ice forming right under his feet as he steps, an instantaneous process. "And friends with that guy?" He points down to Fury. "The guy that tried to kill me?"
Kholodny stops taking his steps, now standing about 40 feet from Khazna, the icy platform now having a long extension coming off of the side. "Gotta say, not off to a great start for us being friends. But, you've not done anything to me yet, so I see no reason for us to try and kill each other. What would you like to speak to me about?" Kholodny is not an unreasonable man, and Khazna does not look like someone to quick to jump the gun either. Maybe someone won't have to die.
Khold wonders whether or not he should help. He wants to, he's well aware that he can do some damage, though he doesn't know what the Bald Guy can do, but honestly he thinks that the Old Guy would just get mad at him for interrupting his glorious battle. Or something. He looks like the kind of Old Dude to say some shit like that. Shrugging his shoulders, the massive down coat rustling with the movement. He's glad he has the coat. Even if it doesn't exactly make him warmer, it does make him feel safer. Kind of like a security blanket. Oh yeah, and the fact that he knows most predators won't be able to penetrate the coat, and even if they can, its their own death sentence, cause now they're gonna freeze to death. Yeah, all warm and toasty with that though. Kholodny pinches his brow. He just wanted to have a nice relaxing day.
"Oi there traveler! Well now! What do we have here?! I hope you don't mind me saying, but you surely don't look like you’re from around here do you?"
Kholodny jumps a bit, not expecting to hear anyone calling to him. "What the hell was that?" He mutters, far too quietly for anyone to hear. Looking up and behind him. (Right? Is this Khold's Six o Clock or Khazna's?) he spots the man.
"Ah! But where are my manners? My name is Tablurath, Cardinal of the 6 fleet and conquistador extraordinaire! Who might you be if I may ask? And from where might you hail?" Oh, well at least he's pleasant enough. Kholodny grins and creates a pillar of ice under his feet, with a three foot radius, going up about ten feet, until he is level with the Cardinal. "Well a good day to you as well sir. My name is Kholodny Zima, which is Russian for 'Cold Winter'. Yes, I know, you don't need to say it, it is indeed a very fitting name." He removes his left hand from its coat pocket and begins to rub his chin. "So I'm taking it that you're the leader of all those ships that just came out?" He takes a few steps back on the platform, the ice forming right under his feet as he steps, an instantaneous process. "And friends with that guy?" He points down to Fury. "The guy that tried to kill me?"
Kholodny stops taking his steps, now standing about 40 feet from Khazna, the icy platform now having a long extension coming off of the side. "Gotta say, not off to a great start for us being friends. But, you've not done anything to me yet, so I see no reason for us to try and kill each other. What would you like to speak to me about?" Kholodny is not an unreasonable man, and Khazna does not look like someone to quick to jump the gun either. Maybe someone won't have to die.
Apparently nothing!
I will be responding to any posts after about 9:30, which is when I get off of work tonight. Other than that, Im online almost all the time
Blumenkranz is suuuuuuuch a good song.
Maxwell the Golden
Kholodny Zima, Scion of Stribog
Samuel Lionheart
Kholodny Zima, Scion of Stribog
Samuel Lionheart
If you two wanna go ahead and go at it, just let loose. Khold wont get involved in this unless he absolutely has to
Ahhhhhh that makes a lot more sense. And yeah, the whole skeleton thing is kind of a big difference.
Name: Samuel Lionheart, The Lion God
Age: What is time, lol. Dude's old as balls.
Gender: Male. 100 percent dude.
Race: Lion God. A god of all things lions.
Random descriptors: Very large. Heavy. Smells of bread. Constantly baking bread. The best of bread.
Character Tier: God
Character Type: Critical Character- Background Character
Physical Description: Standing at eight foot five, Samuel is a very imposing presence on or off of the battlefield. He is a very dense man, weighing in at about 6 tons. As a god of all things lion, he is in fact, a lion person. Imagine Simba, but also a person. He wears armor, the kind you find in a JRPG, with exactly ONE shoulder pauldron, no more, no less, because why would you need more than one piece of protective wear? Ah, you know what, have a picture.
Its the one on the right, if you couldn't tell.
Personality Description: Sam's a pretty chill dude. There's really no reason to get upset about things when you're an all powerful fothermucker who don't need NO man. He tried the whole "Douchebag god" schtick for a couple years. Totally boring. He's a total paladin who always does the right thing. Hahha yeah right. Absolutely Chaotic Good. He does the right thing, when he wants to, which is admittedly most of the time, but if he doesn't feel like it, he won't, and there ain't a damn thing that can make him.
Character History: In space, several hundred warriors stood on a battlefield. Commanded by the psychic king of their people to watch for any signs of lion. The air soon filled itself with the smell of bread and cat hair as an enormous rift tore itself in the very space above their planet. From this gargantuan space crack poured a literal trillion lions, enough lion to form not one, but two earth sized bodies in space.
Literally everyone in that situation died, not even joking, they're really dead. But the two earths worth of lions crashed together and somehow a blackhole got into the mix and crushed literally every lion there into one entity. Exploding out the rest of the material to create a gargantuan lion head universe. At least 150,000 times the size of your average universe.
In the center of this new universe the lion god Samuel was born. And since then he has dicked around in cosmic...Stuff. For the past few million or so years. Recently he has taken a liking to the internet, and it shows.
Age: What is time, lol. Dude's old as balls.
Gender: Male. 100 percent dude.
Race: Lion God. A god of all things lions.
Random descriptors: Very large. Heavy. Smells of bread. Constantly baking bread. The best of bread.
Character Tier: God
Character Type: Critical Character- Background Character
Physical Description: Standing at eight foot five, Samuel is a very imposing presence on or off of the battlefield. He is a very dense man, weighing in at about 6 tons. As a god of all things lion, he is in fact, a lion person. Imagine Simba, but also a person. He wears armor, the kind you find in a JRPG, with exactly ONE shoulder pauldron, no more, no less, because why would you need more than one piece of protective wear? Ah, you know what, have a picture.
Its the one on the right, if you couldn't tell. Personality Description: Sam's a pretty chill dude. There's really no reason to get upset about things when you're an all powerful fothermucker who don't need NO man. He tried the whole "Douchebag god" schtick for a couple years. Totally boring. He's a total paladin who always does the right thing. Hahha yeah right. Absolutely Chaotic Good. He does the right thing, when he wants to, which is admittedly most of the time, but if he doesn't feel like it, he won't, and there ain't a damn thing that can make him.
Character History: In space, several hundred warriors stood on a battlefield. Commanded by the psychic king of their people to watch for any signs of lion. The air soon filled itself with the smell of bread and cat hair as an enormous rift tore itself in the very space above their planet. From this gargantuan space crack poured a literal trillion lions, enough lion to form not one, but two earth sized bodies in space.
Literally everyone in that situation died, not even joking, they're really dead. But the two earths worth of lions crashed together and somehow a blackhole got into the mix and crushed literally every lion there into one entity. Exploding out the rest of the material to create a gargantuan lion head universe. At least 150,000 times the size of your average universe.
In the center of this new universe the lion god Samuel was born. And since then he has dicked around in cosmic...Stuff. For the past few million or so years. Recently he has taken a liking to the internet, and it shows.
Maxwell sighs. "You could at least say please. I mean, if I have to bus all of your shit around anyway." He furrows his brow, doing the "Lord Give me Strength" brow pinch. "If I didn't need you to get out of here, this would be a completely different experience." He takes another thick strip of meat out of his pouch and starts chewing on it, sizzling noises coming out between his teeth as he chews. Maxwell grabs the paper while he chews. "Might as well get started on it while I'm eating. The less time I have to put up with this bullshit, the better." Slipping the paper in between his waist and his armor, he takes off his gauntlets and holds them out to LeeRoy with his left hand. "I wasn't kidding about those train whistles. If you could weld them to the gloves, I would very much appreciate it." Maxwell walks off with both the list and the sack of food, grumbling to himself. "At least one of us grown ass men has the decency to be nice."
Anyway, after all the mumbling and grumbling, in between eating some raw steak, Maxwell takes the list out of his pocket. "Alright, lets see here. We've got...." 12 tons of boron steel, a shit ton of copper wiring, plastics, ceramic plating, and some battle grade glass. "Where in the hell does he expect me to find all of this?" He looks around himself, at the surrounding city.
Well lets see here. Tall buildings, more tall buildings. Hmmm. Jeez, Maxwell doesn't really know what he's looking for. "Well, lets try just looking around. Maybe asking some questions." And so he does so. Asking the city people, who are all actually very very nice, he manages to find out where all the supplies are.
AND because we have better things to do here, for posterity's sake, lets just say that Maxwell bought everything, including some more food, and head back to the ship, with an UNREALISTICALLY large sack full of everything. (Mind you, this is at least a 15 ton sack. Shit's gigantic.)
Anyway, after all the mumbling and grumbling, in between eating some raw steak, Maxwell takes the list out of his pocket. "Alright, lets see here. We've got...." 12 tons of boron steel, a shit ton of copper wiring, plastics, ceramic plating, and some battle grade glass. "Where in the hell does he expect me to find all of this?" He looks around himself, at the surrounding city.
Well lets see here. Tall buildings, more tall buildings. Hmmm. Jeez, Maxwell doesn't really know what he's looking for. "Well, lets try just looking around. Maybe asking some questions." And so he does so. Asking the city people, who are all actually very very nice, he manages to find out where all the supplies are.
AND because we have better things to do here, for posterity's sake, lets just say that Maxwell bought everything, including some more food, and head back to the ship, with an UNREALISTICALLY large sack full of everything. (Mind you, this is at least a 15 ton sack. Shit's gigantic.)
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