Zephyr

[COLOR="DarkRed"][SIZE="1"]Talon has asked me to avoid the OOC's on the main thread, so I will post my point here for people to read. The first half of my first post is mostly to show that the character has emotions that are heavily veiled. The stoic and somewhat grim behavior in the second half is the "normal" behavior she has. Also, unless otherwise required by the RPG plot I am assuming that she is not in the immediate vicinity of the other hunters, and not "half-way across the world" either. Talon, if you want me to change this let me know. If anyone else wants to suggest a link between character or their proximity let me know. If neither is the case, then sit back, buckle up, and see where the ride takes it. (I think the full moon is getting to my brain today)[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[quote name='Darren']Posted. Just thought I would apologize to Zephyr for stealing your internet format type thing at the beginning. I liked it! So kudos to you ^_^[/QUOTE] If you can make use of it, feel free. Was in a "tech geek" mood at the time. Always glad when someone can do something other than roll their eyes or curl up in the corner at my random musings.

[COLOR="DarkRed"][SIZE="1"]A bitter cold chilled Amanda to the bone as the wind whipped through the streets of the small town. No sign of the cold was evident in the way she walked through the dawning twilight. Despite having been up the entire night, and spending nearly two hours of it chasing a new, phantasmal creature through the remains of an old apartment complex, she walked with a steady grace and a stare void of noticeable feeling. Underneath her mask of indifference she was seething enough to explain why even the cold breeze could not keep her cool. [I]I swear, if I ever find the hermit that sent me this info I'll bring him on my next hunt, and see how he likes a firsthand view of his "special information".[/I] The last three days had not been kind to Amanda, as she spent most the nights awake chasing three steps behind the "Wraiths", as she had taken to calling them, that had infested a lower class part of the town. Normally three days of hunting on her own would have been fine. Time well spent following leads and gathering information on her prey. This time, however, she was offered to be let in on information a local hermit had supposedly gathered that would shave days off of the hunt. Too bad his information was so outdated that even the corpses left behind at the scenes had been feasted on days ago by Inhumans that Amanda had to deal with. At least there was a bright point to everything here. This small town was familiar to her, a place she had not seen in nearly a year, and had one place she could always go to feel at ease. She made a beeline through the streets to the local church, and found the doors open despite the rather early hour. Forging forward she made her way past the empty rows of pews and stood before the alter, staring up at the statues, paintings and stained-glass windows, now gleaming with the first morning rays. "Blessed be, do these old eyes deceive me, or is that an angel before the altar of the Lord?" The heavy Irish accent cut through the silence of the church as an aging gentleman made his was toward Amanda from one of the side doors. Amanda turned, bowed to him, and a small (and very rare) smile graced the very edge of her lips. "A fine morning to you, Father," she spoke quietly and carefully set down the violin case she had chosen to bring with her that night. "I am afraid your eyes must deceive, for I am not an angel. I am neither so holy, nor do my 'wings' carry me to or from Heaven." A dry chuckle loosed from the man's lips at the reciting of the jokingly ritualistic greeting between the two. "Of course, my child. Still, you are truly a sight of beauty to this aging eyes. How long has it been? Nearly a year, if I recall." He may have been in his seventies, but the feigned bad memory was a lie common to everyday conversation. "Tell me, does your return mean that you have found what you seek from the teachings?" "No, it does not. I have seen many religious practices through my travels, but an understanding of The Heavens still eludes me." Amanda had never taken to a particular religion for answers, but had looked to many for commonalities and guidance on her role in life and as one of the Hunters. She chose to refer to any divine level of existence, be it one god or many, as "The Heavens" to avoid taking a single view. "Well, the answers seldom come that easy, I suppose." As he spoke he lowered himself into the seat of the front pew. "Would you be willing to do an old man two favors? Please stay for the sermon this morning, and until then would you mind playing for me a bit while we talk?" With another small smile Amanda wordlessly opened the violin case and set the instrument to her chin. With her eyes half closed she started to play a slow melody with a relaxing tune that she had played only once before, and only for the man who now sat before her. [CENTER]***Later That Morning***[/CENTER] Having calmed down from her time spent in the small church Amanda now returned to the motel she was renting a room in. At the lobby she paused for a moment with her eyes closed, and uttered almost breathlessly: "Even in the shadows the eyes of the diving reign." She continued to glance around at everyone she passed confident that if any Inhumans were around they were being careful. Once in her room she bolted the door, shut the blinds, and logged into the Hunter-Net to check for any further information. All she found of interest was a video of one of Salvage458's recent autopsies. [I]Hmm, I really do find his methods grotesque. Still, I can't deny the usefulness of what he had found in many cases. Maybe he should know...[/I] Amanda logged into the network's library of Inhumans and jotted down the information form the recent encounter with the Wraiths. Shortly after she posted a notice on the network directed at Salvage458, although open to everyone, seeing as she lacked direct contact to him. [I][B]Subject:[/B] To Salvage485, Re: New Inhuman Data Salvage458, if you have not noticed new data has been posted via the network on a recently encountered Inhuman. See the listing of "Wraiths" for current info, and attached pictures from the kills. If you want bodies I will save them pending your response. If you want live test subjects you are on your own. I do not approve of you methods enough to try and cage these Inhumans for you. You can find a Redeemer with a sadistic streak or a Martyr for that kind of work. --Archangel298[/I] With that she logged off and lay down on the less than comfortable mattress in the hope of getting at least some kind of rest before dealing with anything else. Best to think on a rested mind.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[SIZE="1"][COLOR="DarkRed"][B]User:[/B]Archangel298 [B]Password:[/B]******** [I]Access to Hunters Network approved. Welcome, Archangel298[/I] [I]Information >> The Hunted >> New Entry[/I] Subject: New encounter. Codename: [B]"Wraiths"[/B] Recent investigation of an abandoned apartment has led to an encounter with a new "freak". Identified by a mostly humanoid shape with both arms crossed and fused into their hips. The faces are blank masks of bone white, and the remaining skin is fairly pale. They are extremely flexible, and move with exceptional grace. Direct attacks are swift, however seem to be driven mostly from defensive instinct, and are thus rare. Of particular note is their ability to fade into surrounding material to escape. Maximum time of two minutes was noted during the encounter, though further study is needed to confirm. Victims were located at the scene, and their recent deaths indicate they were likely the Wraiths' victims. No physical bodily damage was noted, however expression of extreme terror covered their faces. It is possible they were literally scared to death by the Wraiths. Perhaps a feeding off of emotions. Physically the Wraiths are not much harder to kill than a normal human, although they seem to heal partially when fused into other matter. A viscous black fluid was spotted bleeding from their wounds. Chest shots are ineffective, most likely no heart there, however head shots can kill them in the same manner as a normal person. Further details pending further encounters. --Archangel298 [I]Logout Confirmed.[/I] OOC: Heh, felt like doing a computer style entry. Either way, just to clear up Wraiths are fast but fragile. If it can kill a human it will likely kill them. Fusing with matter is limited in duration, but does heal them slightly. They feed off of human fear, and possibly other emotions, which leaves feeding material for follow-up freaks. *Wants Crawfish now. Thanks Talon.*[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE="2"][COLOR="DarkRed"][B]Name[/B]: Amanda “Amy” Swift [B]Hunter-Net Name[/B]: Archangel298 [B]Age[/B]: 18 [B]Hair[/B]: Raven Black, with a single, inch-wide blue stripe down the front-left (over the eye). Hair is straight and extends to about mid-back. [B]Eyes[/B]: Mostly Grey, faded to a light blue at the outer edges [B]Height[/B]: 5' 7" [B]Weight[/B]: 135 lbs (adjusted thanks to advice from a fellow OB'er) [B]Creed[/B]: Judge [B]Weapons[/B]: Amanda prefers to travel rather lightly with weapons. She carries a single Walther P-99 in a shoulder harness under her left arm, and two spare magazines hidden in the folds of her cloak. Strapped to her back are three small throwing daggers, and a jagged shard of metal about 6 inches in length (from her first kill, see bio). For protection she normally wears a Kevlar vest under her dress. The forearms of her dress hide small metal plate bracers to help deflect blunt weapons, small blades, claws or fangs, also good for busting said fangs with a quick back-hand. Her boots are also armored on the inside with metal, making them more durable and good for a rousing game of zombie-skull soccer. [B]Edges[/B]: [i](While Edges may be inherent to Hunters, Amanda has stumbled upon a downfall in hers. A negative emotional state, resulting in the misuse of her Edges can will often have consequences. She does not often misuse them in this way, but she has lost her temper in the past with some freaks she has faced. Amanda attributes this to the strong bias caused by emotions, which is not appropriate to the act of standing in judgment.)[/i] (Note: this is not something I expect to crop up constantly, as Amanda is in control of her emotions generally. However, I just wanted to add a new depth to both the edges and her personality for the purpose of possible gameplay options) [I]Burden[/I]- Places her left hand over her right eye and stared daggers with the left eye. “I can see your fate. Now, stand still for it.” [I](If misused will often fail, and possibly backlash for a fraction of a second) [/I] [I]Discern[/I]- Closes both eyes. “Even in the darkness the eyes of the divine reign.” Opens both eyes to the sights around her. [I](Will not function at all if misused)[/I] [I] Respire[/I]- Places both hands over her heart. “It is not yet time. I (you) have much to do.” Places a kiss on the forehead of the recipient (not used for herself). [I](Misuse of other edges will taint the next use of this one for up to a week later, slowing the healing process and giving the recipient nightmares.)[/I] [I]Payback[/I]- Motions toward the target as though preparing to fire an arrow. “Heaven rejects you, and so does this world!” Releases the “arrow” at the target. [I](If misused this edge will either not work, or leave Amanda almost paralyzed by the pained screams of her target.)[/I] [I] Impact[/I]- “In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” Kissed her gun, dagger, or fist, then lets fly with the “righteous judgment.” [I](Bullets will explode right out of the barrel, daggers veer off course, and limbs may break if misused) [/I] [I]Balance[/I]- Crosses her arms and merely glares at the target. “Your tricks pale in comparison to the glorious truth.” [I](This edge will just flat out not work when misused)[/I] [I]Pinpoint[/I]- “Even the birds who approach Heaven are susceptible to gravity’s pull.” [I](May either not work, or provide a stinging pain in Amanda's eyes if misused)[/I] [B]Appearance[/B]: Amanda’s appearance is rather deceiving at first. Standing at only 5’ 7” and having a lithe, curvy frame it is hard for people to imagine her as being physically strong or imposing. What she lacking in physical strength she makes up for with a visual demeanor that is almost frightening. Her eyes are cold as an artic wind, and she holds herself steadfast and calm in even what often seems to be the center of a war zone. On occasion she wears the left side of a theater-style “smiling mask” which has been broken in half and painted with a single steam of blood from the eye, as though it were crying. Amanda’s normal attire, both in combat and her time off, is almost creepy in and of itself. She is often seen wearing a flowing black dress, designed just loose enough to hide Kevlar coverings underneath while still slightly form-fitting, and with a very gothic look. The arms extend down to the wrist and cover the back of the hands, connected by rings on the middle finger. A two-layered half-cloak covers her shoulders and upper half of her torso, with a downward V-shape clasped at the throat by a black widow pin. Despite this rather sleek look she chooses to wear thick leather, knee-high boots with three belt straps for ties. Generally unseen in the scar stretching diagonally down from left shoulder to right hip on her back, though it is obvious when she is not wearing the cloak (as her dress has a low back). On either shoulder blade she has a tattoo of an angel’s wings, and a vampire tooth earring in her left ear (which she tells most people is a wolf’s fang). [B] Biography[/B]: Most of Amanda’s early life was normal by the standards of most of society. She grew up in a middle-class family, attended school, enjoyed learning to play the violin, and had various aspirations for her future. Both of her parents were loving and supporting of her changing dreams, and her younger sister was a source of constant companionship and encouragement. Sadly, as with most dreams, this one came to a screaming and unexpected halt. To celebrate her sister’s birthday her family decided to spend the week with relatives who they had rarely had the chance to meet with. Wanting to see a bit of the country along the way they choose to take a Greyhound bus there and back. The bus never made it to its destination. Halfway through the trip a freak, more specifically a hungry vampire, lost control and took it out on the passengers. [B]Imbuing[/B]: Amanda was originally caught in a state of shock as she saw people slaughtered before her eyes, the bus crash into a guardrail, and the searing pain of a jagged piece of metal bury itself in her back. Lying before her in the wreck was her own family, torn apart by either the vampire or the crash; she no longer can remember the specifics. It was not long before she was faced by her own mortality, in the guise of a vampire staring directly at her, and a decision. Should she die lying on the ground whimpering, or die making that bastard pay for his actions. As with many cases of fight or flight, logic was thrown to wind in place of pure, heated instinct. Grabbing at the metal shard in her back she rended flesh tearing it free and lunged at the vampire. Tears of sadness, rage, fear, and probably a tinge of understanding of the insanity of the action blurred her vision as she flew forward with a speed she never imagined she possessed. Images of her life, her family, her loves and hates, joys and fears, hopes and dreams flooded her mind in the seconds before she struck. Her hands bled from the edges of the metal shard as it seemed to be guided by the hand of the divine straight into the heart of the vampire. The vampire dropped to the ground, paralyzed instead of instantly killed, as the legends often claim. For a time he lay there, twitching as Amanda remained curled up on the remains of a seat, her mind racing. As she watched him squirm the once happy, child-like gleam of her eyes faded away, leaving only a void stare that would frighten the darkness itself. [I]Animal. No, even a savage beast has more meaning than this thing.[/I] Slowly she uncurled from the seat to stand over the vampire. No rage, no sadness. There was nothing in her eyes. [I]This thing wishes death upon us? Then death it shall have.[/I] Amanda’s foot rose from the floor of the bus to sit upon the top of the makeshift stake. “Never again.” With one swift motion her heel slammed down into the metal and shattered the remains of the vampires heart. As a last insult she sliced out one of his teeth and later turned it into a makeshift earring before walking away from the scene and disappearing into the night. Weeks later she was confronted by a now forgotten hunter who seemed to know too much about her involvement in the incident. However her distrust was overridden by his offer regarding the killing of such freaks. He brought her into the fold, mentored her for a time, and then disappeared once he believed her to be ready. Now, she hunts. [/COLOR][/SIZE] Talon, I hope this meets with your approval. If there is anything your dislike about it, just let me know and I will work to correct if for you.

You could always go for Caster from Fate/Stay Night. [URL="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Caster.jpg"][COLOR="RoyalBlue"]Caster (on Wiki)[/COLOR][/URL] Not a well know character, but a cloak nonetheless. (Would have suggested Boogiepop, but she/he has a hat, not a hood)

[B]Name[/B]: ?Moonlit Snow? (will answer to either ?Moon? or ?Snow?)( Explained in bio) [B]Gender[/B]: Female [B]Race[/B]: Ctarl-Ctarl [B]Age[/B]: mid-30?s [B]Appearance[/B]: Moonlit Snow towers over many at a height of 6? 7? tall, and looks as though she could bench-press a small planetoid. Her body is covered in a pure white fur, which has a faceted, glistening shine to it which is said to resemble moonlight dancing across a field of snow (hence her name). Her hair, equally as white, is pulled back into four waist-length ponytails, with two sitting over her shoulders and two falling down the middle of her back. Contrasting the gentle white of her fur/hair are two deep crimson eyes, which look back at the world with a sharp glance. Despite her age Moonlit Snow has a rather young looking face, and is often mistaken for being ten years younger by many. Moonlit Snow?s usual attire is a simple denim jumpsuit, often left unzipped in the front and off of her shoulders so that it hang down from her waist up. When it is like this she ties the arms around her waist to keep them from dragging. Underneath she wears a leather ?girdle? (for want of a better term), which ends just below her arms. Her boots are leather with open fronts to avoid being torn open by her claws. [B]Personality[/B]: ?A wild one.? This is perhaps Moonlit Snow?s favorite description of herself. When in a good mood she can be one of the friendliest people anyone has known, and will often celebrate anything she can think of with a drink, or twelve. However, when she is in a bad mood most people will know it across the span of a space station from the yelling alone. She tries to control herself more than the average Ctarl-Ctarl, and will do her best to seclude herself before reaching the point of physical violence. Mention of certain events from her past, or conversations leading in that direction will turn her heart to ice, and she will often go silent for a time instead of answering anything about them. [B]Abilities[/B]: A knack for machines has always been one of Moonlit Snow?s greatest strengths. Growing up she could practically disassemble a ship?s engine, clean it, grease it, and have it back together in time for breakfast (not seriously, just the standard overrated description). She has even managed to make a variety of small gadgets to help her with repairs, and if she does not have one for something she might just go and make it for fun. ?I can tell you the personality of your engine(s) just by spending a day listening to them speak, and hearing them whisper in my dreams as I sleep near them.? While she tells people things like this often, no one is really sure how serious she is. [B] Weapon(s)[/B]: Moonlit Snow sees little use for weapons, given her natural abilities as a strong and proud Ctarl-Ctarl. Despite her natural strength and endurance she has been know to use her tools and her gadgets as weapons in a pinch. The one common weapon she tends to keep with her is a ?Shock Talon?, a customized glove designed to deliver a non-lethal shock to a victim. Even though she prefers non-lethal devices she is not squeamish about using guns, knives, and over weapons if absolutely necessary. [B]Bio[/B]: Growing up in a lower-class family on a Ctarl-Ctarl ship did not afford Moonlit Snow many options in life. Both of her parents worked as part of the ship?s repair/maintenance, and as a result she was seen as being only able to learn to their level as well, never getting a chance to even train for a position of honor in the military. Still, this suited her, and she learned at a rapid pace. Despite not getting an opportunity to reach higher she became noticed for her skill and aptitude with the workings of the ship, and was often offered postings on bigger ships with better names. It was still just a lowly repair tech life though. All of this changed for her one evening though. While stopped at a random dock on a nearly nameless space station in the middle of nowhere she had a chance encounter with a Terran. Both of them were slightly tipsy from a night of drinking, words were exchanged in a flurry of drunken emotion, and the almost inevitable fight broke out. Moonlit Snow found herself bested by a Terran, in front of several members of her own crew, and worse yet that Terran had the unrivaled gal to claim that her loss meant a debt was owed. To top the entire thing off, and nearly send her mad with rage, her superiors agreed with the Terran. From that point forward she was pressed into the service of the one who had bested her, becoming the personal tech on his ship. Refusing to admit her previous dealings with her own kind she gave up her birth name and took on the name Moonlit Snow, which the Terran had told her that her fur resembled on that fateful night of drinking. For nearly four years she worked with him until the day he tossed her into an escape pod and jettisoned her into space, moments before a missile cleaved the ship in half, at the very least. Since then she has wandered around finding work as it came. OOC: Any issues with the sign-up, just let me know.

As odd as it may sound I tend to get a rush more from the emotion behind a song or a scene from a movie/show than from anything physical (which is not to say that I don't enjoy the rush from physical risks). I've found that certain high-emotion parts of a song will send a short wave of adrenaline through me, almost like a wave of ice water through my veins and hairs standing on end, when I concentrate on the thoughts and feelings hidden deep within the tune. More than a few of Kajiura Yuki's songs have this kind of power behind them. The same can be said for emotionally charged scenes of anticipation in movies and shows. If I know that a scene of strong emotion or some kind of truly awesome imagery is about to begin my skin bristles with excitement a moment beforehand. I guess this is one of the odd sides of sitting on the mental edge of reality and imagination. I tend to find myself sucked into imagination as an extension of reality (but still clearly defined as imagination). Yeah, I'm an odd one. :animeswea

OOC: Going to go in a slightly different order with this one. Aria sat quietly singing to herself in the small cafe, her attention focused on the sheet of paper she was currently writing on. The paper's surface was covered with small sections of musical notes scattered about haphazardly, and seeming to contain no real direction. Still, it kept her mind moving while she waited. It was not long before a server came over and set down the slice of cherry pie she had ordered, and Aria scooped the waiting fork from the table in anticipation. She stopped a second before digging in as a nearby conversation caught her attention. [I]Wrath?! Envy! Could they be hunting....[/I] Aria knew all too well what they were speaking of, having had a similar encounter of her own only yesterday. [CENTER][b]***One Day Earlier***[/b][/CENTER] Wild cheering and laughter could be heard from behind the door that Aria was now standing next to. Gluttony was here, she just knew it. After weeks of tracking him she had finally caught up. And now she was sure that she would have the upper hand thanks to the surprise of having caught up to him. With her heart steadied Aria pushed her way through the door and.... stopped dead in her tracks, tears welling up in her eyes. Inside was like a madhouse. The rather large room had tables filled with lavish delights from the far corners of the globe, and a group of people fighting over them in a way that even animals would consider offensive to be compared with. Fists were thrown, elbows swung, forks and knives used as weapons, all for the purpose of being the first to grab the food, or the one to grab the most. A low mist hung in the room, surrounding the tables and the people. The mist seemed to pulse with an energy leading back to a single individual standing in the center of the room who looked Aria straight in the eye. "Welcome, welcome Faye.... oops, that's right. You prefer to be called... 'Aria', was it?" A smile twisted his face. "Tell me, how do you like my menagerie? Beautiful, is it not?" Aria could not bring herself to respond, and nearly collapsed under the burden of pain her heart felt. Instead of letting the sadness crumple he knees she opened her mouth as if to speak, and let a sad melody echo from her lips. It did not take long before the music caught the ears of the people at the tables, and they soon forgot the food as a wave of sadness washed over them and drew them away. Gluttony just sighed as the mist in the room faded. "Humans are such fickle creatures. My beautiful art is ruined by a sad child and a song. Maybe it [I]is[/I] time I heeded my siblings' calls and joined up with them again." As he spoke Gluttony slowly walked out of the door next to Aria. After what she had seen she no longer had the strength to try and stop him, and his words about his 'siblings' froze her in fear. Shortly thereafter he disappeared down the hallway. [CENTER][b]***Next Day, at the Cafe***[/b][/CENTER] The fork in Aria's hand trembled as she realized what she was about to do. Quiet talk of the other Sins still reached her ears, and she came to the sudden understanding that this was exactly like the way Gluttony's victims had acted. Wordlessly she stood up and approached the group talking about the Sins and set her food down in front of them with a childish smile to greet the bewildered looks she received. "It seems that in my battles against Gluttony I have nearly become his prey. Have you, the hunters of Sins, faced your own selves as their potential prey yet?"

Name: Faye Hawkins (prefers the nickname "Aria") Age: 21 Personality: Despite her age Aria still has a very childish view of the world. She is just as likely to go running and dancing through a field of flowers in the moonlight as she is to just sit and stare into the distance with a smile. Aria is very friendly to those who are friendly to her, but seems a tad shy even if her closest friends talk to her. Often her only response to others is an ear-to-ear grin or a short series of notes from her flute. She prefers not to fight, if possible, but stands firm against any aggressors when there are no other alternatives. Appearance: [URL="http://www.theotaku.com/wallpapers/view/137623/dream_of_happiness"]Aria[/URL] (ignore the elf ears and the wings) Bio: Aria was born in a small town in northern Michigan. Early on she became the pride of the town due to her talent with singing, hence her nickname, and with the use of wind instruments, most notably the flute. Most of her life has been spent training her skills in these regards, and as a result bringing notice to her town from outside. As she grew so did her notice of an additional skill she seemed to have with her music, the seemingly supernatural ability to draw out the emotions of a packed auditorium of people in full force. When she approached her parents about it they shrugged it off as be "a natural effect of music on the human soul." Aria was not so convinced and worked to hone what she saw as a power beyond the normal. In her attempts to do so she set out into the world on her own shortly after graduation, seeking guidance in her studies, or at least a way to work them into focus. (Sorry if this is a lousy bio. Could not think of anything better at the time) Weapon: Aria's only real weapons are her voice and a flute that appears to be made of a clear crystal. Magic: Hypnotic Melody. She can bend the will of musical sound to create an emotion or compulsion in the minds of a single person or a group of people. Other possible applications may exist that she has yet to discover. Sin: Fighter of Gluttony OOC: Please let me know if you want anything changed, Knuckles' Girl.

[B]***Friday Afternoon, shortly after classes end***[/B] Voices could be heard from the now dark room of the school's automotive class accompanied by the sound of a small engine's hum. Inside Seita was getting ready to leave the school on his motorcycle, which the teacher allowed him to park in the small garage in exchange for the opportunity to use it as a demonstration piece in class, when he was interrupted by one of the few friends he had. The girl's name was Amy, and she had been a recent transfer to the school a grade below Seita's. At the current moment she was giving him an earful about joining her for a party planned for the evening, another one of the heavy-metal just outside the city where people overlooked the noise due to it's distance. "Come on, Seita. You really need to get out more, meet people, have fun, and loosen up a bit. You're too quiet sometimes, and you need to show people you can be social too. Even if it is at the top of your lungs over blaring music." Amy let a wicked grin slip past her lips at that last mention. Seita just rev'ed the engine a bit before looking over at her, shaking his head and replying in a quiet voice. "As much fun as it would be to have a whole crowd avoid me for a night, I'll pass. With the weekend coming up I have to help out my family anyway." Amy just crossed her arms, stamped one foot on the ground and gave Seita a dirty look. "You really are no fun sometimes." Seita looked away at this remark. He knew Amy was only joking, but his self-conscious nature kicked in at that moment. Amy uncrossed her arms as a look of regret passed across her face. "Sorry, I did not mean it that way, Seita." "It's fine. At least you are willing to stand up and say it." He left of the second half of that thought: '...most people wont even bother.' "At the very least can I get a ride out of here," she asked with a coy smile. "All of the buses have left." Amy took a step back to catch the helmet that was lobbed at her after that remark. "I figured you would plan something like that. You may be manipulative, but you are not [I]that[/I] good at it." Amy just responded by sticking her tongue out at Seita before putting the helmet on and sitting down on the back of the motorcycle. Seita kicked the RPM's up and barreled out of the parking lot a second later. OOC: Short after-note. I know this seems a little off from the description of my character's personality description, but I wanted to show early on that while he is shy in groups, he is a bit less so with one of his friends.

[B]Name[/B]: Seita Endo [B]Gender[/B]: Male [B]Age[/B]: 18 [B]Real World Appearance[/B]: Seita dwarfs most people at a height of 6? 5? and has a slender frame. While he may be thin he is also well built, with compact muscles and calloused hands displaying years of labor. His bright green eyes are set high on a calm, almost expressionless, face that is framed by long black hair pulled into a tail at the back. Outside of class his normal attire is a mostly bland mix of blue jeans, a T-Shirt (of varying dark colors) and a black leather jacket. [B]Year and Class[/B]: Year 12, Class 3 [B]Personality[/B]: On most days Seita is very calm and quiet, and very rarely seems to talk up unless spoken to first. The few people who he does talk to regularly only seem to describe him as ?just being himself? or ?just being a bit shy?. As to whether either of these is true he will not say. Randomly Seita has shown a heavy bursts of emotion of varying styles and degrees. There never seems to be a trigger to these outbursts, and most are short-lived, after which Seita is quick to apologize and excuse himself from the crowd. While few people talk about this openly it is a great concern to many around him. When distancing himself Seita can often be found in his garage working on his motorcycle. [B]GPA[/B]: Heavily A?s and a few B?s, though his grades will drop on days when he has his outbursts [B]Character History[/B]: Seita has grown up on the edge of the city most of his life, in a middle-class, average family. Most of his early life was spent running around playing in a happy manner, the same way many children do. He was well know to be a friend to nearly everyone, and was often the first one to greet newer children to the area and bring them into the fold. All of that changed around the age of 12 when a tragedy struck his family. No one in the town ever seems to talk about the even, other than the mention of ?six years ago it happened.? Since then Seita has become more distant, started to display the outbursts, and lost many of the friends he once had. Since then only a few people will ever approach him, and often times those who do, and who carry a form of understanding, have managed to become his friends. [B]Significant Item[/B]: A silver (or at least crome-plated) locket in the shape of a Celtic cross. On the back is a round picture holder with a picture inside of a young (roughly 10 or 11), and vividly smiling, Seita with his arms around a smiling, blonde-haired, grey/blue-eyed girl around the age of 7 or 8. [B]Inner Universe[/B]: There is no name for Seita?s inner universe. The four elements of Air, Earth, Fire, and Water form the basic structure of the land into a four-sided mass of the controlling element. Great lakes of lava and desert heat scorch the Fire realm, a cold snow and constant winds bear down on the high mountains of the Air realm. In the Earth realm sharp cliffs, towering plateaus and crystal towers dwarf all who enter, and an endless sea surrounds the sporadically placed islands of the water realm. In the center of it all is a massive crater with a single floating landmass. Resting upon this landmass is ?The Cathedral?, a mysterious building of unknown origin and purpose. The inhabitants of the inner universe are mostly elemental beings, consisting of animals formed from the elements themselves. Reigning above these common creatures are the elemental lords, the Sylph of the Air, Gnomes of Earth, Salamanders of Fire, and Undine of the Water. All An uneasy truce is held in effect most of the time, though random and short-lived wars break out. High above the land itself Angels of Light and the Demons of the Darkness vie for control of the sky, creating the uneven cycle of night and day in the universe. A single beacon on the highest tower of the Cathedral shows a reaction to the celestial battle by changing from a bright light to a cold void in the tower. [B]Inner Universe Appearance[/B]: Seito?s inner universe self is a twisted amalgam of the four base elements. He stands at more than 7? tall, with an armored shell of solid Earth. Under the cracks in this shell, and in his eyes and mouth, are the glowing embers and lava (blood) flows of Fire. From the top of his skull to the middle of his back is an ever-flowing river of Water, which evaporates at the base and reforms at the top. His ?hair? parts in two spots, mid-back, where wings of Air can be seen by a close look and a careful observer. [B]Inner Universe Races[/B]: Elementals (in the form of animals), Elemental Lords, Angels, Demons, and unconfirmed rumors of humans [B]Inner Universe Age[/B]: Due to the state of his body it is impossible to tell if Seito has an age in his inner universe. OOC: Odin, let me know if you feel that anything needs to be altered.

I have no clue about the first one, but I believe the second one is a modification of a scene from a game called Mahou Shojou Ai. It's seen fairly often on photobucket.

Hmm, looks like fun, and I happen to have had a character design running through my head lately (a random one even). Name: Serenity “Noir” Hart (Codenamed: Black Winged Angel) Age: 19 Gender: Female Physical Description: [See Attachment in addition to description] 5’8” tall with a deceptively slender build (she is stronger than she looks). Has the same red hair and piercing blue eyes as depicted in the attachment. Her usual attire consists of dresses, normally of a Gothic Lolita fashion, in combinations of red/black or blue/black. On each of her dresses the left arm is covered in a black, web-like lace from the shoulder to the wrist, and the right arm is left uncovered. She carries the mask (seen in attachment) with her all the time, though it is often tied to her face when she is out performing her job. (Note: Mask does not have the handle on it. Instead is has a leather strap so that it may be worn normally.) Around her neck she wears a leather choker with a small pendant containing a thumbnail sized piece of amethyst set in iron. Personality: Serenity is a quite person, often mistaken for a loner at first, but has a very upbeat attitude when people get to know her. She rarely lets anyone get to her enough to get on her bad side, but those who do she will respond to coldly (usually with an icy stare). While performing her work in the field she is calm and collected, working hard to keep distractions at bay. She does have one small weakness, crystal jewelry. Whenever she sees a necklace or bracelet she likes she tries anything within legal bounds to obtain it, usually attempting to negotiate her superiors to “loan” her some money. Occupation: Search and recovery. Serenity works to find and retrieve others identified to have powers, and bring them back safely. (In retrospect, I should mention this is done for Genesis Corp. Forgot that part) Power: Serenity has the ability to phase herself out of normal layers of reality by adjusting the frequency her atomic structure resonates at. In essence she drops into another dimension just below the normal one. While in this state she can sense everything normally, but cannot directly affect it (i.e. make a loud yell, move objects, etc.). As a result she can walk through objects, but the concentration needed to do so limits this movement to a few feet through low density objects (wooden doors/walls), and makes it impossible for high density objects (such as lead walls) This ability also gives her the codename, as its effects take on the look of black wings that spread to enshroud her in shadows before fading away. Currently it is unknown what side-effects prolonged phasing may have. Hope that is good. Let me know of any changes you may like me to make, Blayze.

OOC: Sorry about the delay in posting. Just noticed it up a few days ago, and been hectic since then. So, let's have some fun. A scene of pure calm and tranquility spread itself out before Alno'dra. Though his eyes were closed he could see every detail of the room around him, having spent many long days meditating within. Overall the room was large, spanning nearly fifty feet across, and half that high. In the very center was a small, open structure, octagonal in shape with a domed roof supported by pillars at the eight corners. Surrounding this structure was a "sea of stones," pure white in color and roughly half the size of a human fist. The landscape was only part of the beauty and tranquility. The air was alive with the sweet perfume of various flowers, which clung to vines creeping along the pillars and the edge of the domed roof. From three points in the distance came the sound of water running from high in room's ceiling to three artificial ponds amid the stone sea. Calmly sitting at the very heart of the room, within the eight-sided "garden," as it was often referred to, was Alno'dra. In front of him was a young child, clad in a full white robe, who also sat, facing toward Alno'dra. It was hard to distinguish past the light from the roof above, but a careful observer could notice that the air between them seemed to glow a dim yellow, and even wavered as though it had been heated. For a time nothing disturbed this tranquility. Sadly, as with all tranquility in a world or chaos, this was not to last. The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall to the room. Alno'dra did not show even a hint that he had noticed, however the child in front of him unconsciously fidgeted in a barely noticeable way. The aura in the air changed in response. From a dull yellow it split into two, a bright yellow from Alno'dra, and a dull red from the child. In a matter of seconds it dissipated. It was at this time that Alno'dra spoke, still in a meditative spot. "Why have you broken away, She'Ari?" In response the soft voice of a young girl replied from beneath the robe's hood. "My apologies, Master Alno'dra. I lost focus when the quiet was broken by the footsteps." "You must learn to drown out such disruptions. If you wish to properly utilize your spirit's power you need to be able to stay focused even if a war were to start around us in this very room." Alno'dra could hear the rustling of She'Ari's robe as she bow her head to the ground in apology. "For today we will have to call off the lessons. It seems I have a guest to attend to. I would like you to practice your focus until the next lesson." "I understand, Master Alno'dra." With that She'Ari bowed again, and made her way across the stones, none of which so much as shifted while she walked across them. Alno'dra silently smiled at this. She'Ari was a talented child, picking up things that even she did not notice. Alno'dra finally opened his eyes to the sight of a red-robed adept standing at the edge of the stones, he dared not enter. Next to him was a gentleman who appeared to be from the king's court. "Why have you interrupted the training session?" The adept kneeled and looked down. "I bring apologies, but this man insisted that I lead him to you at once. He refused to listen to reason." The man from from the court looked visually annoyed at this, and spoke up instantly. "I have come bearing a message from my lord, King Malomantre. Alno'dra your presence is requested at the castle for a meal. The king would like to speak with you." With fluid grace Alno'dra stood and began to walk silently across the stones. "So, you felt the need to barge in on private matter to invite me to dine? I would have expected better manners from our beloved king." The messenger did not take kindly to this, but did not receive the chance to talk back. "Very well, I will follow you." Alno'dra looked over at the adept. "Please inform She'Ari that I may be gone for a while. She is to continue her basics until I return, or she may be assigned another master to work on advanced studies." With that the adept withdrew and Alno'dra followed the messenger down the hall. OOC: In retrospect, I'm not sure that "Adept" is the right term to use there, but I blanked on a more appropriate one.

This one sounds like a really fun RPG. I'll add my sign-up too. Let me know if you want more to it, Lionheart. I'm working on a background idea right now, that I can add later. [b]Name[/b]: Alno?dra [b]Job[/b]: Spirit Monk [b]Age[/b]: 36 [b]Gender[/b]: Male [b]Race[/b]: Guado [b]Personality[/b]: Alno?dra is a quiet individual with a worldly knowledge that belies his age. He is level-headed, often has a fatherly smile on his face, and works hard to avoid fights (both verbal and physical) if there is a non-violent solution to be found. Should he ever be forced into a fight he is quick to dispatch the one he is fighting, but strives to minimize the injury inflicted (just enough to disable the opponent). In everyday life he is gregarious and tends to make friends easily. Often his presence in a room of friends will bring with it a sense of calm. Even among those older than him he often takes on the role of a surrogate father, spreading his knowledge to those around him. [b]Appearance[/b]: [I]Physique[/I]: Alno?dra dwarfs many of the people he meets, standing at a height of 6? 5? tall. Adding to the oddness of this is his lithe/thin build with long arms and legs. His skin is heavily tanned, and off-sets his white hair, which appears to be made from the petals similar to a lotus (best I can think of for ?plant-like hair?) and stands up as if gelled back. Across his arms, chest, and back are intricate tattoos displaying everything from runic symbols of his tribe to scenes of nature. [I]Clothing[/I]: Alno?dra?s clothing roughly resembles the outfit seen in the picture on the main post, specifically the one shown center-right (with the raised collar). The main body and collar are white with red trim on the collar, around the shoulders (vertical stripe under the arms), and at the base. Staring from the red trim at the shoulders the arms are light blue with a green ?creeping vine? pattern up to the elbow. Topping everything is a light-blue cloak with a flaring V-shape clasped at the throat with an iron broach containing a small yellow crystal. Alno?dra also wears a pair of leather bracers on his arms, which have similar iron and crystal inlays, albeit much larger. [I](Lionheart, would you mind me having those crystals being used as small Spirit Energy batteries for emergencies? Please let me know)[/I]

OOC: Gah! Sometimes it sucks being a responcible person with classes and a job. Never any real free time. Well, should be back on regularly now. Tension in the room was begining to mount rather heavily. Even without his "extra" sense Kell would have been able to tell this. Right now he was trying his best not to let it get to him, and succeeding, for the moment. Around him the room was a buzz of energy as new people appeared, others experienced sudden onsets of emotion for the young girl who called herself Brisk after her voice faltered, and everyone as a group became more confused and nervous by the minute. Someone in the room was trying particularly hard to hide their true feelings. With the torrent of emotion Kell could not tell who, but at some point they were bound to lose themself in the moment and snap. Hoping to delay the result as much as possible Kell reached out with his power and tried to calm the raging emotions of the house's occupents as much as possible. It was not much, but as long as it stemmed the tide a little there would be a bit more peace in the house for a while. [i]Maybe coming here was not such a good idea after all,[/i] he thought to himself. [i]At this rate I will just make myself even more sick.[/i] As this realization passed through Kell's mind he slowly stood up and staggered toward the door. Right now he could see himself moving, but did no seem to have the control over his limbs he should have. Under his breath he muttered as he approached the door: "Anger..... confusion..... fear...... sorrow..... pity...." With each step the door to the outside drew closer, however it was slow going in his condition. "Doubt.... mistrust...."

[CENTER][b]***Act I***[/b][/CENTER] [CENTER][i]Rendezvous[/i][/CENTER] "Anger," Kell wispered in an almost inaudible voice. "Fear. Spite. Decite. Pain..." He continued on as he walked through the city. His head throbbed with pain as the overwhelming emotions of others pounded him. To most of these people he must have looked pathetic, weak, and possibly half-way to his deathbed. Most of them were right. Despite having knowledge of this fact he pushed forward, slowly making his way toward the beach. By all rights he had no business there, but something felt like it was pulling him in that direction, something very similar to his encounter at the hospital. Still, with his body ravaged as it was by his condition, he was not even sure how far he would get. The days since he left the hospital were brutal. Suddenly being removed from the machines that kept him pumped full of nutritional fluids proved to be rather harsh, and since then he had been either drifting between homeless shelters, or using his ability to "force" others to throw food to him in an act of either hate or pity. Combining the physical and mental stresses from this it was a wonder he was as lively as he is now. Kell was greeted with a sight which momentarily brought some life back into him, the golden yellow hue of sand meeting the light blue tint of sea. In the middle of the beach was a small house, which looked to be abandonned. Emanating from the house was a strong feeling, the same that had drawn him here. As he approached the feeling faded, but the intent was clear that he was meant to find this place. For a time Kell's pace quickened as he endevored to reach his destination, which seemed so close and yet so far away. Sadly, he did not manage to finish his trip. As he approached his eyes began to fog over, and his body succum to its own fatigue. A mere seven steps from the door he collapsed, his shoulder hitting the side of the house, and slumped against the exterior. [i]Damn it.... so close,[/i] was the last thought that entered his mind as he lost consciousness. -------- OOC: Heh. Well, so much for a dramatic entrance. ;)

[CENTER][b]***Preface***[/b][/CENTER] [CENTER][i]The Awakening[/i][/CENTER] [CENTER]Three Months Earlier[/CENTER] The steady beeping of the EKG next to his hospital bed was the only sound Kell heard as he awoke from his restless sleep. It wasn't hard to tell that it was still the middle of the night. Outside was shrouded in darkness, the only light in the room was from the equipment in the room, and the halls outside were so quiet you could hear footsteps of the departed if you listened closely. This was no surprise to Kell, in his state he was always going in and out of sleep. Then again, being hooked up to every manner of machine just to appease the doctors and his family that he was not going to die did little to keep him occupied. And then there were the "feelings" he got from everyone nearby. Pain, anger, hated, malice, evny, the list went on. With those emotions tearing him appart in life, sometimes it was better to just wish for an eternal dream instead. If not for the nightmares. On this particular night it seemed another nightmare had found him in his awaken state. Looking over Kell noticed a shape in the corner, a tall figure wrapped in long, flowing robes. The only part of the figure visible past the dark clothing was the lower half of the face, an emotionless one at that. "So, are you the real keeper of death this time, or just another illusion from someone who thinks their end is near?" Kell spoke in a calm and weakened voice. This image was nothing new to him, so he no longer feared it. "I am neither, my child," the figure spoke in an androgynous voice. "I am the one sent to lead you on your chosen path." As the figure spoke the lights in the room begin to dim, some began to swirl around to form new shapes, runes. [i]Destruction.... desity.... the world.... danger.... save.[i] Kell was shocked to be able to understand any of the runes that began to float in the air. One in particular caught his attention, and was repeated numerous times: [i]Gangirock[/i]. At first he swore he was asleep again, dreaming. However this time, he knew he was not. The dark figure began to speak again. "You have been given the gift of Gangirock, an ancient an near-forgotten power. You must use it wisely to help protect this world. Your gift has a name, Hypnotic. As it has entranced you with the thoughts of others, so will you learn to entrance others with it's powers." As the figure spoke it's robes begain to flow slightly, as though a light wind had started nearby. By the end of the speech the "wind" had picked up to a gale's force and now threatened to take the robes and the mysterious figure with them. "Remember, you must help to save all that is. Search for more like yourself, they can aid you in this." With that the robes shreaded and flew off into the distance. A second later there was a flash and Kell awoke to find it was morning. At his beside was the regular morning shift nurse checking the equipment. Although she spoke politely, Kell could tell she hated her job, her boss, and even him. Having learned to control his "gift" to a degree he knew how to not only feel her hatred, but to control it for himself. It seemed like this would work in his favor, and he now had a good route of escape.

Hmm, no one seems to have tried darkness yet. Well, guess I'll give it a shot. [b]Name:[/b] Thomas Kell (preferes to be called Kell) [b]Age:[/b] 23 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Appearance:[/b] Kell is rather short, standing at 5'7" and is very fragil looking. He is thin to the point of looking malnourished, and rather pale. When in large groups he often has a look of pain on his face, which he tries to mask (with little luck). Other than that his look is rather plain. T-shirt, blue jeans and street shoes are the norm. He also has a black leather jacket, which he tends to drape over his shoulders, instead of wearing properly. Has jet-black hair and dark green eyes. [b]Personality:[/b] Kell is a quiet, and rather reclusive, individual. He tends to shy away from large gatherings as much as possible, and will often avert his eyes from others when speaking to them. He seems especially fearful of people expressing large amounts of anger in his vicinity (even if not at him specifically). He does, however, seem to have a breaking point. At times he will pull a total reversal of his behavior, becoming straight-forward and sometimes even violent. These outbursts are often shortlived, but strong nonetheless. [b]Gangirock: [/b][i]Hypnotic[/i]. The Gangirock of darkness has become the power within Kell. Specifically, the ability to see/feel/hear the darkness in the hearts of others, and even manipulate it to his will. This mean reducing or ampilifying the darker emotions of others, redircting them, and possibly making them the only emotion the victim will ever experience again. This gives Kell powerful control over specific actions of the victim, so long as those actions can be based off of a dark emotion. It's not know how far his abilities extend, but ther seem to taper off as the distance grows. [b]How did you obtain Gangirock?:[/b] As far as anyone can tell the Gangirock has been with kell since birth. Before his teens he was a normal child, then became the quiet recluse he is now shortly into those years. [b]What did you lose after obtaining Gangirock?:[/b] Emotional control was the personal loss that Kell experienced. He is now highly suseptible to his own dark feelings, as well as those of people around him. [b]Bio: [/b] Kell's early life was nothing to be proud or ashamed of, in fact, it was pretty average. Middle-class family, mother, father, two siblings. He lived is a small house and went about life as a normal child. Things began to change early into his teens, however. He became shy, staying away from people as often as possible. When he was around people he became moody, swinging between sadness, fear, anger, and a host of other emotions. This led to him being bullied in school, and that led to fights which were generally rather violent. As his family became concerned, so did he. Falling into state of depression at home he started to become sick more often, ate less, and began to fade. Fearing for his life his parents entered him into a hospital which set him up on IV fluids, medication, and anything else they could try without killing him. Still, not a single treatment helped. As time passed Kell began to notice that he was not only aware of the darkest feelings in people's hearts, but that he could even reach out and tug at them. After a few years he learned to control his "gift" (or curse) and used it as a means of escape from the hospital. Since that time (shortly before this RPG begins, a few months perhaps) he as wandered around doing what he had to in order to survive. Okay, hope this works out for you. Wanted to try a unique approach to the darkness aspect. I will probably clean up the bio a bit later, can't think of a good way to write it out at this moment.

A short period of time had passed since Heimdall had been "granted entry" into the village. In the time he had found himself before the leader of the DH, was offered a job, and sent out to locate a designated group of additional recruits. Currently, he was being led through the halls of the compound by an overly-chatty woman, who was either hell-bent on leading him to the group, or driving him mad. It did not take long, luckily, to find the rest of the group. "Ms. Sky!" The woman yelled. "Ms. Sky!" Ahead of them a group of people Heimdall recognized from the streets turned to face the two of them. The same female demon he had noticed before stepped forward. "Sorry to stop you so suddenly," the woman spouted out faster than Sky could respond, "but there is one more who will be joining your group." "Welcome," Sky turned to Heimdall, and nodded, "I'm Sky" "Heimdall," he responded with a nod back. "I assume you have been filled in on the details," Sky asked. Heimdall only nodded in response. "Good, then lets get going." With that she turned and took her spot at the front again, Heimdall took up posistion in the back of the group. While they walked he thought back to his meeting with the DH's leader. [i]"Heimdall, born and raised in a village in the eastern desert. Real name unknown, age guessed to be early 20's, parents unknown. Virtually non-existant as far as the past is concerned. To top it off, the agents we have had watching you report you have little worry about killing demons and humans alike. You sound like the best choice for a special mission. I have sent a group of new recruits out to hunt the most dangerous demon of them all. However, I do not trust them fully. One is likely to break from the strain. Keep a close eye on them, and do whatever it takes to prevent that."[/i] Heimdall could have cared less if anyone of these people lost their mind, or if the DH failed, or even if the world fell into darkness. He had his own reasons for taking this job. OOC: Heh, just wanted to throw in a little chance for turmoil in the future (as though my character was not likely to do that anyway). If you dislike the idea let me know and I we can disregard it.

"Hold it," a guard shouted as Heimdall approached the gate to the Village of Light. The guard walked up to Heimdall as his partner placed a hand on his own sword's hilt. "State your name and your business here." The guard's voice was none to pleasant. "My name is of little concern, and I am here because someone left me a message to come to this area." Heimdall responded in an even tone, showing little sign of emotion. "Show me this message," the guard responded in a harsh tone. "I burned it." Heimdall's only response. "In that case, you may not enter. Leave here at once." With a flick of his boot the guard turned an walked to his post. With no warning whatsoever the guard was suddenly hoisted into the air, and slammed into the wall. A gasp of fear escaped his partner's lips. Looking down he saw Heimdall lifting him by the neckline of his armor, effortlessly with his bandaged left hand. This was no mere feat, as the guard and his armor much have weighed well over 200 lbs. "I am in little mood for this right now," Heimdall spoke in the same even tone, but his eye looked as though it could burn through the man's armor with a mere thought. "I have already been deprived of my prey once today thanks to that letter on an arrow piercing the heart of the demon. Perhaps you would like to be next one I claim. Believe me, I have few qualms about who I kill. Now, let me in." The guard agreed, rather quickly, and Heimdall put him down, then proceeded through the gate. With long-legged strides he made his way along the streets to the location in the note. Few events around him raise his interest, with the exception of a group led by a female demon. Overall he deemed it meaningless, and passed by the group without a word or another glance. Beneath his cloak he gripped at his left wrist, as if rubbing away a sudden pain, but ignored the sub-conciouss reaction and pressed on.

Heimdall sat down on the remains of partialy eroded tree that had fallen to the ground. In front of him was a scene he watched with slight disinterest. "Hmm.... What to do about this." A howl ripped through the forest, possibly loud enough to scare any nearby villages, but did little to bother Heimdall. "Release me, you inferior whelp!" Another howl, this time accompanied by a low roar. "Release me, or I shall eviserate you!" The speaker was a demon, a rather pissed off one at the moment. To an observer it would seem odd that it would be yelling for release, when it had not visible shackles. However, there is stood, well.... kneeled, before Heimdall. Yet it seemed to be chained down, unable to make real its threats. "I see little reason to set you free," Heimdall responded, with pure calmness in his voice. "Your kind knows only destruction, you will likely try to kill me and everyone else you find. I can, however, make this deal with you. Tell me where I can find find your kin, and I will make your death a painless one." The demon smirked at this, cursed something in its native language, and spat at the ground near Heimdall's feet. Heimdall merely shrugged and raised his flute to his lips. He was stopped short by an arrow, which cut into the chest of the beast, dropping it limp onto its back. Hanging from the arrow was a letter, addressed to Heimdall himself. He opened and read the letter, then burned it along with the corpse of the demon. With the same calm he had while facing down the demon, he now walked away from the scene, playing out a namless tune on his flute. [i]The Village of Light? And a job offer? Well, it beats randomly hunting demons, for now.[/i]

OOC: Ah, been a while since I have been back, and what an interesting looking RPG to start back in with. Name- "Heimdall" (gave up his real name, see [URL=http://www.pantheon.org/articles/h/heimdall.html]Here[/URL] info about the name ) Age- early 20's Race- Infected Human (I'll explain in the bio) Personality- Very calm, and quiet for the most part. It is common to see him walking at a calm pace, with little interest shown in the events around him. At random, and usually without warning, he will snap and his mood will pull a 180-flip. When this happens he becomes madly sadistic, and will not hesitate to bust through anything (or anyone) in his way. Appearance- Heimdall is approximately 6' tall, give or take a few inches, with raven black hair and a piercing ice-blue right eye. His left eye, the left side of his head, and his left hand are covered in bandages (similar to a mummified corpse). His normal attire is rather standard, work pants, ragged shirt, and heavy boots, save for the light tan hooded cloak he wears. Slung over his back is a small fabric bag, which holds various items. Weapons- Heimdall's main weapon is a flute which produces a hypnotic wave that can freeze a human or a demon in their tracks, and cause other unspeakable results to them. As back-up he carries 4 consealed throwing knives in his boots. Bio/Writing example- Born under a name that is now lost to the winds, and in a small desert village left ravaged by demons, Heimdall is nothing less than an enigma. He refuses to share his past with others, due to the gruesome nature and potential for hatred cast in his direction. The true story is that Heimdall's village was destroyed many years back by a small squad of demons. The luckiest villagers were killed imediately, but Heimdall recieved a fate far more disturbing. He was captured by a "Spore Demon," as his village dubbed them, a demon who slowly infected humans with demonic seeds to experiment with hybridization of the two species. Heimdall managed to escape before the infection was complete, but the result ravaged the left side of his body, and much of his mind. Since then he has set out on his own, surviving as he sees fit, and running by his own agenda. OOC: Hope you do not mind the slight indepent nature of my character, Monipo. It is fine to have him work as a part of a Hunter group, but a "loyal to myself" attitude makes for interesting results.

Bowling, now there is something you do not hear mentioned often. Okay, I'll bite. I only bowl everyone once in a while, last time was a send-off to a co-worker last year. I do kind of like the game, though my abilities with it are questionable. Usually, I start off as the best of the group, then watch my game go into the gutter (yes, intentional pun) while my friends get better. It's a bloody paradox, I tell you. ;) As for my high score, no clue. Like I said, I do no play often, and my memory for those details sucks anyway.