Post by Yamaroshi Riel on Sept 1, 2007 16:56:30 GMT -5
Yamaroshi had joined the Angelus Morti recently, and Lord Azrael had only given him one order: to increase his elemental powers. He had done that to an extent. His earth magic was getting much more powerful than it was before, thanks to Taurus, one of the zodiac books of earth. This was good, but Yamaroshi had intended to learn fire magic. At the moment, his abilities were self taught, and therefore he could barely do a thing with it.
Yamaroshi had gone to Firefox University to find a way to gain this power, but apparently he was too late. The book he found out he needed was gone, stolen by some sort of creature he knew essentially nothing about. Tiberius was his name, and that was all he knew, and the way Talon talked about him, it was clear that it would be difficult to get this book back.
Now, the boy's only hope was his new leader, Azrael, who had told him he would help the boy to empower himself. Yamaroshi unfortunately didn't know where he might find Azrael at the particular moment, so all he could do was come to the crypt in case the master was around somewhere.
The Crypt: a place where only the dead could really call home and a spot that no mortal would ever want to remain in much longer than they had to. Or there were those that simply had no choice in the matter: neither living nor dead, but left there under the impression that they had passed on. The last words that the body had heard ringing through his ears were "Richard, it's for...your own good. FULMINA!" Perhaps he had died and transcended into the stars to join the Great Wolf himself; however if that was the case, why was he in such pain? Was joining with a star a painful process? Or worse...was he not in the Skies at all, but in the unquenchable flames of Satan's domain?
Feeble: that was how he had felt now. There were only two times before this when he had felt this way before. When he had been born as Richard Rutherford and his rebirth as Fenris Fenrir. He didn't feel intact and he was afraid, oh was he scared about where he was. He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes nor did his other senses aid him in any way. It was like he as baby that had no clue to the potential of it's motor skills and didn't understand what they were there for. It took time for him to even flicker an eyelid, as if the movement once so familiar was now so foreign.
Flickering weakly open, the sole eye of the man known as Fenris Fenrir opened and it's black pupil glanced left and right followed by up and down. What he gained was a very distorted picture of chains around his waist and ankles from when he looked down, and looking up showed chains holding his arms out like he was that famous sketch by DaVinci on human anatomy. When he tried to rotate his head, he found that he couldn't and opening his eyes just a little more revealed a muzzle that held his entire head in place. And to make things worse, a vast portion of his clothing and skin was tattered into useless strips from the violent discharge of static electricity.
"Richard, it's for...your own good..."
"FULMINA!"
It is no man's place to judge whether it is for another's own good that they should die or live. Man cannot play the role of God.
Weakly sniffing the air, Fenrir caught a familiar scent and knew that the person wasn't far off from his position. Too weak to physically acknowledge the elementalist or to talk with him, Fenrir sent him a little message that really had no backing behind it.
Post by Yamaroshi Riel on Sept 6, 2007 1:32:44 GMT -5
At first, the boy thought he had somehow imagined the voice in his head. But the fact that it was so random, and that it was such a clear, powerful thought that sounded like another's voice made him realize less than a split second afterwards that it was not. The voice was familiar, and with another split second, he was able to identify it as the voice of Fenris Fenrir.
It made sense. When he was with the group of students from Firefox lead by the purple haired witch, Fenrir had sent a message, and he had to relay his own corruption of that message to his golem who didn't hear it.
Fenrir was nearby. This put Yamaroshi immediately on alert. As it turned out, Azrael was right. Talon obviously did let Fenrir go, and now he was nearby, possibly looking for a fight.
A quick look around told him otherwise. He saw the lycan there in his pathetic state, and lowered his wand just after he raised it to the appropriate height.
He managed to ward of the sick temptation to remove his pants, revealing that no cat had made off with his penis. Instead he settled for a more sadistic cruel comeback. "No, no. I still have it, but thank you for asking. What about you though?" He glanced away briefly, pretending to think. It was part of Yamaroshi's 'dark' side which showed so plainly because of the boy's contempt for the lycan. "Oh, yes, that's right. You don't have one anymore, do you?" he then asked, making a reference to the brutal attack Azrael employed on Fenrir.
Post by Thomas Lucre on Sept 6, 2007 16:05:29 GMT -5
moar?
Jeez, there's just more threads I gotta keep up with. Disregard that last post then, I guess. My fault for being ignorant. The last I checked though, Fen was in shambles because of what Talon had done to him.
ooc: What Yama is refering to is a previous attack and what you are thinking of is when he just recently got fried by Talon. In other words, Fen might not be getting rookie of the year this time round.
ic: 'Heh: you've got moxxy kid. That and the fact that after your friend so generously decided to rearrange my nethers, I've been making a slow recovery. It's still there kiddo, it's just not going to be kicking anytime soon, if you catch my drift. Then again kids these days...', came Fenrir's thoughts into Yama's mind. The little punk before him was really nothing without that wand of his or Rocky, and the minute that Fenrir could get any wizard alone without their tool: they were chum. And will the near-dead lycan couldn't show it on his face, the Earth Mage's insult stung and the kid with the Asian name moved up on his hit list. But once again, he was in no condition to inflict any harm on anyone, so he would resort to negotiating: a skill that didn't gain him much considering it was talking that had gotten him here.
'So kiddo, I've been bored out of my mind for hours now and I'm curious. What brings a little man like you to Cyrpt? Unless...you're not looking for a big man are you? Cause he's not here: if he was I'd be giving him a piece of my mind.'
Spin the wheel, spin the wheel Go wherever she spins Surrender to this wave that's rolling in
In the eerie confines of one of the tucked-away corners of this realm of the dead there rested a creature with the power to gift both those present with that which they desired most in that moment; the power over fire, the power of regeneration. Lucky for them these two powers were available in this one being; in the nature of her kind, the creature only had three. She was belied only by the faintest ripple of a soft cloth trouser leg against smooth calves - the skin of which lay bare shades apart from the pure white linen in which they were clothed. She leaned, static and unmoving as a statue, upright as a stone pillar, her well toned back resting easily and lightly against the cool smoothness of a tall tombstone, each one of her perfect muscles carved in exquisite immobility. Even the lids of her eyes could have passed for chiseled marble.
What she had been waiting for she knew not, only that she had been drawn to this area by a strange aftermath of magic of a most unusual kind. Not from the earth mage, nor from the lycan, though neither could be considered usual. The magic that made the air tingle had been and gone, an explosion, a mana bomb that had left scars on the energy signature of the area, scars that Kesterel could taste like a metallic tang on the air. Perhaps she was waiting until the perpetrator of this magic reappeared, or perhaps she merely had some time to kill; her life was a long one, after all. A few hours, a few days, what did it matter? And then - voices.
Violet eyes fluttered open, crystalline clarity against their alabaster trappings, and the Nephilim stepped out from behind her rocky perch without sound. Her loose clothing, all in white, moved lightly and silently against her flawless skin, but her feet were bare. Sinewy tendonous feet they were; any mortal that beheld them would think only of running, a chase through a midnight forest, the joy of the hunt, blessed, blissful death. Hypnotic were her movements, all gliding rippling flesh, flowing as constant and inevitable as a river flows to the sea, soft and stealthy as a tiger stalking its prey. She did not step, she flowed, but she was not yet appeared to the two cursing each other on the floor of the crypt. To all eyes that chanced to look she was naught but a memorial, carven of stone to mark the final resting place of any upon whom she trod. A weeping angel, flitting from grave to grave without anything quite so mundane as physical motion ever being involved.
Soon she could see them, well, one of them. It was the boy her amethyst eyes fell upon first, and to him it was that she finally revealed herself. Light. She could have been made of it, so fierce was the burning of the sun within her breast. Her skin glimmered moon-bright in the gloom, while her hair was of an impossible weave, flaxen gold, lustrous silver, shining like starlight on water. This was beauty itself; no concept born of even the most delirious of poets could compare. A beauty to drop to your knees for, to worship. And when she spoke truth rang in her faintly Nordic-accented words, stunning and raw as the shimmering ice-like fjords of what may have very well been her birthplace. Powerful and primal, soft and alluring.
"Watch your tongue, little one," she said, her words falling like spring rain onto Yamaroshi's ears, only for them then to burn a hole in his brain. "The severed head of a wolf may still bite. And Fenris," she added, not turning to see the lycan's prone form, instead keeping her washed-out irises focused unblinkingly on the wizard, her glorious golden head tilting raptorially to one side as if examining a mildly intriguing insect that may take flight at any moment. "I would not hold your breath for the return of the - big man - did you put it?" Faintly mocking was her emphasis, but so wondrous her presence that this insignificant alteration in tone would surely not register. "I may be of assistance, however. To both of you," she finished, those violet eyes boring into Yamaroshi, fire in their depths, and when she spoke next it was only to him, nothing, nobody else in the world existed. "Tell me," Heaven, dripping with spiced honey. "What do you desire, little one?"
Dance with me around this fire The dance of bad angels who'd love to fly higher
[/i]
Last Edit: Sept 10, 2007 9:54:02 GMT -5 by Kesterel
Post by Yamaroshi Riel on Sept 28, 2007 22:02:55 GMT -5
Yamaroshi opened his mouth, though the words he would use to reply to Fenris had not come. He quickly shut his mouth again. There was nothing he really wanted to say to the beaten up lycan, though simply leaving would have seemed awkward, even if he didn't have any love for the lycan.
But it didn't matter. Suddenly there was another presence. It was a female. He was quickly overwhelmed by her presence. His body was covered with the sensation of little hairs sticking straight up. He turned his gaze toward her, and was at first overwhelmed by the way this woman seemed to almost glow. For less than a split second, he wondered if perhaps this woman was one of the nephilim Talon mentioned. But that thought was put quickly aside. He knew only two things about the nephilim: that they existed, and that they were powerful. At the moment, there was no reason to think she was one of them.
The initial sensation that had overcome Yamaroshi had vanished, and was eventually replaced with distrust. She wanted to know what he desired? What made her so sure he desired anything? For all she knew, he could just have come here for having nothing better to do. Perhaps it was because she had overheard Fenris talking to him, because Fenris also seemed to think Yamaroshi had come here for a specific reason. This was, of course, true, but the boy did not want to let either of them know this...not that he knew why.
The woman had already irritated Yamaroshi with her high and mighty act, and by calling Yamaroshi 'little one'. "Sorry, but exactly who are you?" The boy spoke from behind facial hair unshaven for longer than a year, his expression now livid with distrust.
A sultry upward curve of those rose-kissed lips was accompanied by a white-hot glint in the depths of her crystalline eyes, as if she enjoyed the young mage's hostility, and then, without any kind of flourish, her movements seemed to lose their slow-motion ability and the ethereal timelessness of her mobility vanished. It was a strange but dazzling effect, causing the Nephilim's stunning physique to appear less spectral and more immediate, and all in the time it took to blink. It was as though she had been previously walking on air and had, for whatever reason, chosen to take the material step to ground, letting the earth fill her body, strengthening her, making her solid and real. Her skin retained its unearthly sheen, however, and when she moved now the overall effect was rather like watching a flickering flame in the approximate form of a woman. All the more hypnotizing, all the more deadly.
That feline smile grew wider as the animosity in the boy's stance increased. Every word he spoke, every flutter of his hand and eye told her more of his nature, and she came closer to hitting the nerve she sought. Knowledge was power, or so it was said, and the golden creature thirsted for both. Of course, it was also written in the lore of many cultures that knowing the true name of something granted you power over that thing. It was just as well then that the name she gave in response to the young man's simple but antagonistic query was not her original title.
The Nordic intonation notwithstanding, this time she spoke her voice was altogether less haughty, less refined. Her speech was now that of a mortal, approachable and mischievous, more, well, earthy. Sweeping into an exaggerated curtsy her face was lit as with a thousand stars as she smiled in a more genuine manner - or what appeared to be so - and she introduced herself. ""Forgive me. My manners must be slipping if I forget such a simple thing as an introduction. I am Kesterel, and at first I thought I might be able to help your worgen friend there." A slow blink, another shimmering smile. "But then I thought to myself that helping one and not helping another might been deemed... unfair, and so offered you use of my particular - how say we say? - talents.
"After all," she went on, prowling in a circle toward and around the young wizard, quick and brilliant, answering his unspoken question as accurately as if she had read his very thoughts. Who knew? Perhaps she had. "Everyone desires something."
Post by Andrey Lionhorse on Oct 21, 2007 16:21:28 GMT -5
Professor Andrey went outside from University to relax, but his attention was distracted when, from the distance, he saw someone near Crypt. That because he went there to see what's going on. Andrey was dressed in white suit and around his shoulders there was a violet mantel, he also had a simple pants and new, black shoes. As always he weared black gloves and one ring on his finger of right arm. When he arrived there he hided himself and saw some kind wizards and something like nephilim. Suddenly Andrey heard that nephilim told something about desires and then he went forth from his hiding place and speaking stood near a wizard who looked like Earth elemetalist: "You don't say nephilim... of course everyone desires something, but you don't need to use this against someone as weakness. Don't you?"
Teagan Offline: This board is full of nostalgia.
Aug 22, 2020 8:39:09 GMT -5
Missing the old MH: gotta say missing when MH and all that was around.
Nov 6, 2019 0:02:30 GMT -5
Willow_lazy: why tf are there 400 posts about adidas
Sept 6, 2018 17:35:57 GMT -5
Azrael: I'm not hard to find, since I'm the only one there who goes by "Azzy", I'm pretty sure. XD
Feb 10, 2018 16:44:41 GMT -5
Azrael: Dunno if anyone still pops by here from time to time, but if any of you mofos do and still feel like gettin' yo nerd on, I've been hanging around this here place a bunch recently: www.roleplayerguild.com/
Feb 10, 2018 16:44:10 GMT -5
Azrael: hold onto your pantaloons
Jul 25, 2016 5:16:43 GMT -5