Engel

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Ashagi Nagashandie [b]Age:[/b] 27 [b]Class/Job:[/b] Demon Hunter; Ashagi made a pact with a dark entity to use demonic powers against demons themselves. Those that choose this path are scorned by most, though none change as much as Ashagi has. [b]Weapon:[/b] Demonic Embrace: The two blades he carries around with a multifacted swatsika for good luck. Very sharp, and gleams with fire from time to time. [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://www.blizzard.com/inblizz/fanart/ScreenShot.aspx?ImageIndex=245&Set=0][color=darkred]Ashagi[/color][/url]. He usually wears nothing but pants, so that when he accesses his darker powers, the extra appendages and such don't hinder him. [b]Natural Ability:[/b] Can control fire, and summon/enslave demons for a peroid of time, with an arcantie knowledge of their magics. Also has a limited control over nature. [b]Genetic Variation:[/b] Ashagi's skin has changed, giving it a mithril like quality; smooth and flawless, but extremely tough and durable. No blades have every pierced his skin since the transformation. [b]Personality:[/b] Ashagi is a lover of nature, amd most creatures never shy away from him, no matter how timid they might be. Dispite his pact with the darker forces of the universe, Ashagi is a caring and sweet kind of guy, and will offer his helping hand-or claw, at times- to people in need. He can be aggrivated, though he usually doesn't do much then, unless it's a paticuarly nasty reason for him being angry. Against most, Ashagi shows too much mercy, in his father's words, but to demons....that's another story. Away from the scorns that come from the job, many people harbor a deep respect for the sacrifice of his own future to help the present. Interested in tailoring and enchanting, when he chooses to and disugses himself, Ashagi can sell the stuff he enchants and makes for a reduced fee, believing that everyone should have something that they can call their own. [b]Motivation:[/b] To liberate the people and creatures changed by the merging of the worlds. [b]Character Snippit:[/b] [b]"Come on, come on..."[/b] Ashagi muttered to himself, as the gigantic humanoid spread the lacy wings that were ment for a much bigger creature, and flew into the air. At that time, the small glowing shard in Ashagi's hands glowed bright purple, and he threw it into the air, then kicked it expertly, sending it through the gigantic Dreadlord. Crashing to the ground, it reeled in pain, monsterous claws grasping it's head in death throes. After a while, the demon's body fell to the cool, drafty stone, twitching softly as it's eyes rolled back in it's head. Dead? No. It was enslaved to Ashagi's will now. [b]"Rise, Thriandas."[/b] With no apparant struggle, the collasped dreadlord stood, the twisting and curving jet black horns, laced with gold and various gemstones running across the rocks, carving small little gashes into the surface. [b]"You called....?"[/b] The bastardized creature asked, with a tint of...what was it...a masochistic urge to slaughter Ashagi, you would call it. Craning it's red neck to the side, the bones made a wet sort of [i]crunch[/i] as Thriandas cracked his neck, in a resistance. It could move of it's own free will, until given a command, and then... [b]"It's time for you to get wiped from here."[/b] Without another word, Ashagi pointed to a deep chasm, full of barbed thorns and the swords of those that had tried to cling on, but reversed by whatever sick presence inhabited there. The universe was full of mysteries. Thriandas used whatever willpower he could muster to plead with Ashagi. [b]"No, master...no....please....Don't...."[/b] With the will that came of years of demon killing, Ashagi blocked it out, and made it move with a flick of his finger, beckoning it again, to the pit. With an indominable strength that was unbreakable by the very pact that had condemmed Thriandas to this world, he walked a stiff death march to the edge of the cliff and wordlessly threw himself in. Sighing, hearing the horrible screams of the Dreadlord as the blades ripped and teared, the thorns straggling in the skin, Ashagi ran a hand through his dark blue hair, and pulled out the hair band, letting it fall. Another hand went through, pushing out the small bits of filth and gore that had come from Thriandas' mouth. Ashagi had caught him feeding on the local livestock. Humans, that was. Shortly after, the hair band went back on, and with a finger, he pried off the band that covered his eyes. They were white with a rim of fire, most thought Ashagi was blind. He was far from it, he could see better than an owl in the night, a bird in flight, anything. Just a side effect. Running his hand over his forehead, Ashagi cleared the sweat away, flicking his wrist as the salty liquid flung off of his hand. [b]"Psh....I hate demons."[/b] Without another word as the band went up around his forehead, just over his eyes, Ashagi left the enclave of the damned, as Thriandas fell through a neverending hell, ripped and torn to shreds by the sick will of another demon. That inspired more hate.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]I'd also like to take part in this tourament, with all you fine people. [b]No matter what, I wish to participate in the OOGT.[/b][/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1] Sighing, Mike lifted himself from the table, running a hand through his hair. [i]What's it going to be like here? Faries and dragons and funny people wearing armor? I don't know, I'm just glad I have the group here with me. That's the only comfort. And that these people seem pretty friendly.[/i] The long blond strands tickled across the back of his neck, another comfort. Through the hall, he went to find his room. It was small, cozy, and made of stone, decorated with depictions of battles and such. It also had a picture of a kusari gama, so Mike knew this must of been made custom tailored. Or something to the sort. Just another oddity to the puzzle. Oddity indeed. He sat down on the bed, which was dressed in a few sheets, and was quite comfortable. Michael shrugged off the jean vest, and kicked off his shoes, laying down on the bed in just his red shirt with the english flad and his faded blue jeans. What a day...[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][i]Capsizing? What the hell?[/i] People screamed, a wailing, and quite annoying sound in his hair. Looking around, bewildered, Rick managed to gather that the storm had indeed done damage, and the ship, well, was going under at an alarming rate. So Rick did what any sane person would do on a sinking ship. Grabbed his kinfe, his wits, and ran, trying to navigate the now drowning ship, as water began to fill in tiny holes, pouring into the boat with an ever increasing fevor. Rick just stuck with one command in his mind. [i]Run to lifeboats. Run to lifeboats. Run to lifeboats.[/i] However, he managed to make a wrong turn, and end up in the kitchen. Cussing out the kitchen in a rage often unseen, he took the time to gather his knowledge of the ship. According to where he had been so far, he concluded that if he kept going forward in the hall ajacent to the kitchen's main doors, and took a few turns, through a few more rooms, and straight, he should have a straight run. Nothing was ever that simple though. Another death moan and shake of the boat threw Rick from his feet, and the falling kitchenware threatened his very survival and conciousness, but as he managed to scramble to his feet, the door suddenly seemed so close, to the hallway. Running with his arm out, other oen wrapped around his face softly, the decorated glass door shattered as Rick crashed through. His hand bleeding, a little while later Rick was piling into a life boat with some guy named Zachary, Donovan, and Jean. One guy wouldn't make it off that lifeboat and onto whatever shore the crew of the boat might meet on, though Rick didn't know it. With a huge wave from the now almost fully sunken ship, the lifeboat capsized, trapping Rick and Jean, who hadn't managed to make it out. Thank god for the Carrol High Swim team. Rick's hands strayed to his lifejacket, and he took it off, as Jean resisted all attempts of Rick to help him get the yellow object off. Shrugging, knowing the boat would kill him soon, Rick took a breath, and plunged into the rocky cold water. Rick turned to see Zachary flip the boat back over, and get in, riding off without him. "YOU SOUNVA..." Rick screamed, and started to swim after it, as the waves pushed him forward. However, the boat sped out of sight. Soon, Rick was too tired, and simply braced himself, trying to let the waves carry him to where he saw the lifeboats. Rick let himself ride on the waves gently up to the shore, his blond hair wet and matted, his bandana somehow magically staying on. As everyone soon arrived, Rick felt bad for having left Jean. He had no time for regret, however, as Zachary the man "Zachary" made it clear that he was being a pessimist. Pulling his knees to his chest, and locking his hands, Rick told him, "Zachary, is that you name?? Rick was a little irrtated that he couldn't see the good luck that they had gotten off the boat alive. ?I resent the comment that we?re all going to die. We?re going to live if we actually try and not be a quitter like you.? Rick didn't know if Zachary was going to explode at him or not, so he continued on for the group. He was still pissed off that Zachary had left him behind. "I've done my fair share of stuff, from writing to music. I guess I could record the amounts of supplies we have here, and write down scedules for what we should have as jobs. And the name's Richard, but call me Rick." [/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Michael sat down at the table, the rough wood of the chair countered by the soft cushion that was placed upon it. He motioned for Maria to sit next to him, as he looked at the food. After all that had happened, he sure was hungry. Without a second thought, Mike began on his meal, and said dryly, [b]"Much better than cafeteria food..."[/b] And it certainly was. It was a melody of spice, and the hint of rosemary shone through slightly, the stew being rather aromatic. [b]"So, what do ya guys think we're here for?"[/b] Michael asked, taking a bite of the stew. [b]"I'm sure people like us don't get ported here everyway, like some Warcraft game or sumthin'."[/b] He was highly skeptical, thinking that it was a dream. His long hair swished past the chair gently, and he realized something. What [i]were[/i] they doing here? Being lead around by that farie or gnome or whatever she was. And the whole flying Maria incident. [b]"I don't know, but we should just eat while we can, and listen to what Kirra says. Ain't you hungry?"[/b] Maria said, almost abesentmindedly. [b]"Doesn't hurt to be skeptical." Mike told her, almost finished with his food. It was quite filling, and flavorful.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Mike was worried about Maria, as she floated out of reach. His hands scrambled for a branch, to pull himself up the tree. His hands propelled himself up, desparate to get to Maria, as she drifted for the clouds. A branch slapped across his face, a small giggle that was mixed with malicious intent followed. Michael ignored it, the sharp stinging in his face swelling to a chrisendo. Her hand was in sight. The foilage of trees was thick, but his determination was thicker. The sky wasn't going to have Maria, and Mike would make sure of that. Something grabbed his long hair, trying to pull him down. His foot propelling backwards, Mike kicked off the small wood imp that had grabbed his hair. Maria was grabbing at the branches, only slowing her ascent. Her hand was almost in sight again, and suddenly, it was within reach. [b]"Grab my hand, Maria!"[/b] Michael yelled out, holding the slender appendage that was his hand out to Maria, and she took it. There was a soft layer of leaves waiting below, along with a huge patch of mushrooms. Holding her close, Mike whispered in Maria's ear. "Hold me close, make sure I land first." And before she could respond, his feet and body left the tree, falling for the foilage of leaves and mushrooms, and he thumped down hard, groaning slightly. He hoped she wouldn't float away again.[/color][/size]

[b]Name:[/b] Richard Lennington (Rick to most) [b]Age:[/b] 26 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://img286.imageshack.us/img286/8461/gg174th5yy.png]Lose the kusari gama.[/url] Richard's a tall, and muscular man. Most wonder why he's in the legal field, when he looks like he could be a champion prizefighter. He stands about 6'1, and carries his 155 lb body with grace. His long hair and style of clothes always make people question, again, [i]why[/i] he was in the legal fields. Rick's blue eyes have hints of amber, giving him a kind look to his grinning face. [b]Personality:[/b] Rick's kind of strange. He's always wearing a grin no matter what, but if you ask about his father while he's in a courtroom, that smile is wiped off of his face. Keen to help out those in need, he offers a helping hand and a word of advice on what they might do next time to avoid that. Rick's answer to any question regarding other jobs, like boxing or anything, his reply is simple. [b]"Do I look like a kind of guy that'd beat ya to a pulp for some money? Nah, fightin' don't interest me."[/b] He is a strange man indeed. [b]Place in the Group:[/b] Rick's the "Hunter." He's the one to scavange supplies from the boat, what he can reach anyway. He also hunts and gathers food for the group at times. [b]Special Skills:[/b] Rick was always a brilliant writer, and wanted to do that before his father forced him into the legal field. [b]Record of Events:[/b] A crash of water, the spill of random obejcts and people, and the screeching sounds of metal alerted Rick to what was happening. He looked around, remembering the annoucement about the storm. What dumbass managed to chart them all the way into the middle of a [b][i]storm?[/i][/b] As the ship careened to one side, as the water lashed at the metal like a rough whip on the back of a slave fed up with his life, Rick just barely had enough time to grab the bar hanging overhead, to avoid falling. It kept rocking, as the metal screamed in torment, like some sort of specter crying for a death that had already came and passed. People screamed. Objects fell. Water pressing in at the sides, panic ran rampant through the general crowd, as people ran for the lifeboats, the foolhearty trying to grab their possesions, most of which would be floaters in the sea. As he ran for the lifeboats, grabbing only his pocketknife to open the lifejacket container, Rick pited them, so attached to what they owned. He'd rather live and buy them back some day, then die like an ***. Rick jammed the blade into the lock, and twisted hard, as it clicked open, he grabbed the 5 lifejackets, throwing one on. There were a few people in one boat, and he threw one to each of them, not knowing all but him and the guy named Zachary would survive. A waste of supplies, but a good waste. The lifeboat floated out, and Rick felt safe, at least for the moment. Until a lurch capsized the small lifeboat, and it flipped him out, along with everyone else. Only he and Zach managed to make it back in. Alive, that is. The small boat was headed away from the now sinking cruse yhat. The skyline was getting ready to sink below the sealine, as the lifeboat lurched onshore.

[color=darkslategray][size=1] Welcome to the Silent Hill: Dust in the Wind underground thread. Here will be kept a short recollection of the current events, if one of our members go missing for an amount of time. A record of the beasts that we might encounter will also be kept here. Feel free to ask questions.[/color][/size]

Alex turned to Syris, and smiled at her gently. [b]"Yeah, those guys...they care a lot."[/b] His smile wore off, and he got up, taking a last glance at her. Maybe she'd be staying in the hotel that he would, as it was the only one around. Or maybe she had family or friends up here. Shrugging internally, Alex lifted up his luggage, approaching those friends that she had pointed out to him. Caleb was there, and Alex grinned, and gave him a quick "hey" and a hi-five. [b]"Nice to see you all guys. Thanks for flying me down here, Caleb." "No problem, I'm glad t- hey! I didn't pay for you to come down!" "Nope, your father did. With your money."[/b] Alex told him, ready to duck from an oncoming punch. All that came was a short laugh. [b]"Okay, fair 'nuff."[/b] He told Alex. [b]"I think we should stay at the South Ashfield Heights hotel. Caleb, no like...erm...offense, I guess, but your house is packed enough as it is. I'LL pay, if that makes you happy enough to do it. What do ya think, Kat?"[/b] [b]"Sounds fair enough. Glad to see you, Rum."[/b] She smiled at him, and he looked at her. [b]"I thought I was Alex to you...or Al, which I could care less for..."[/b] Alex had his head cocked to the side in mock curiousity. [b]"Ah, shuddup, Al."[/b] [b]"Oh great, like dad always said...don't poke the bear."[/b] [b]"I'm not a bear! I just get sorta irritble when people mess with me."[/b] Kat told him, in an equally mocking hurt voice. [b]"...Let's just get checked into that hotel, okay?"[/b] Alex said, not annoyed in the slightest. The trio that had joined up with him nodded, and he looked back, one more time at the woman from the plane. Oh, how fate could be a jackass, which all those that inhabited Silent Hill would soon find out. Too soon, as it would steal away the old time talks of nothings and meaningless subjects, and replace them with the overriding need for [i]survival.[/i] At the South Ashfield Heights, Alex pulled out his wallet, taking out the amount of money that was enough for over two weeks for the four of them. Kat, Caleb, and Amelia looked suprised. [b]"Where'd you get all that [i]cash?[/i]"[/b] [b]"Work. And my father won a scratch off lottery ticket. So he gave me most of it for the trip down here."[/b] He gave them each a room key, there were two rooms. [b]"Caleb and I will take one room, Kat and Mel the other. Any objections?"[/b] Caleb looked as if he wanted to make a suggestion that he should be with Mel, as he secretly had a crush for her, but he kept silent. Silent in Silent Hill, such irony.

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Airplanes. Alex hated flying, but put up with it. The girl that sat next to him was quite cute, and she wore a white coat that showed her stomach. She was quiet, not speaking a lot. He preferred that. All that he noticed, really, is the pen she carried and the smile she wore. [b]"What's your final destination?"[/b] Alexander asked her, finding himself curious. The plane shook slightly, the turbulance in the air soon calming, along with Alex's nerves. The shaking of the fragile craft, the flight attenant, before each flight telling you what to do in case of an emergency, all that was what Alex [i]hated[/i]. He barely noticed as the woman gave her answer. [b]"Silent Hill, you?"[/b] She was pointing to her itinerary. Alex managed not to stutter. [b]"The same."[/b] Rum croaked, and then after a moment, he asked her, [b]"What's your name?"[/b] [b]"Syris. And you are...?"[/b] [b]"Alexander Rumina. Just "Rum" or "Alex" to most."[/b] Alex noted the pen again. It said her name, he had figured it was the company she worked for. His eyes managed not to glance at her stomach as he pulled his head back up, his eyes closing. The plane shook more, and he had a terrible image in his head, of that strange creature splicing that man, the one running from it, apart with a huge butcher knife. It's eyes looked at Alex from it's meaty, disturbing, and disgusting pyramid head. Blood dripped off the weapon of death held in the right hand. Alex's breathing was ragged and shallow in his seat on the plane, the cool material of the gun, made not to fire, on his leg. Detached from society in his own little world, he watched the [i]thing[/i], take a profoundly wet step, the metal case surrounding the Pyramid Head's neck and body. A gunshot. His own, the gun from his foster father firing off, even though it was unable. A warm touch brought him back. His forehead was bleeding, and Syris had her hand on his arm. [b]"Are you alright?"[/b] Her voice asked him, as he shook his head, trying to clear the fog. [b]"Erm...yeah, I'm fine. Just a...well, I'm alright."[/b] Alex tried a smile, and it came out, just barely. He winced as the cut on his head stung. It was going to be a [b]long[/b] flight. ~~~ Finally, it's time to start our little walk to hell in a handbasket. Enjoy.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Alright, all. Great signups, I'm very pleased. I should be starting this by 7:00 PM (5:50 PM right now, here) . Sign ups shall be open until Monday at 5:00 PM Eastern. Thank you for your sign ups, Duke.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Alright, I just found something interesting. There was a game in 1981, that just mysteriously showed up in several backwater towns. It was called Polybius, and it attracted flocks of people. It was supposed to be a simple game, yet curious enough you couldn't put it down. The people that played it suffered from amnesia, horrible nightmares, strokes, and other ill effects. It was soon banned everywhere. Some of the shop owners said that every once in a while, men in black suits came and took information from the game, never the money inside. I have a ROM of the game, I haven't tried it yet. To play, visit [url=http://home.ripway.com/2005-2/255711/programs/Polybius.exe]Polybius, by clicking here.[/url] If that doesn't work, take the link, [url]http://home.ripway.com/2005-2/255711/programs/Polybius.exe[/url] and copy and paste it into your browser bar. [b]PLAY AT YOUR OWN RISK![/b] I do not know if this game will cause the effects said, as I have not played it. I got the follow screenshot just by turning on the game to the first level, but I didn't have enough guts to play. Here is a screenshot: [url=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/Screen01.jpg] Polybius.[/url] Enjoy. Try not to spaz out on me.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Michael Roahnoak [b]Age:[/b] 16 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://img286.imageshack.us/img286/8461/gg174th5yy.png]Lose the Kusari gama.[/url] [b]Traits:[/b] Mike is a calm guy, passive-agressive some might say. Due to his training in the kusari gama, no one's messed with him, and if they did, he'd only do enough to stop them, and make them [b]understand[/b], that violence isn't his way, unless provoked. And it takes a lot to provoke him, but messing with Maria will usually do it. Even though she can take care of herself, and he fully knows it. That still doesn't stop him from beating them into a pulp. It seems like Maria and him are perfect for each other. [b]Character Snippit:[/b] He ate with his left arm, his right draped over Maria's shoulders caringly. The food...wasn't so great. It was tasteless, really. A bland sort of something probably shipped from a mass producing company. [b]"Maybe I'll start going in the veggie line...this stuff, frankly, tastes like the mystery meat is cigarette butts or something."[/b] He poked at it with his fork, to see if the noodles moved, out of suspicion. None did. [b]"Had to make sure it wasn't something they found in the backyard of the cook's house."[/b] Maria laughed shortly, as he tentatively took another bite. [b]"You sure you want to eat that, Mike?"[/b] She looked at him, and Michael made a face at it, in disgust. His fork jutted over to her's, and he took a bite, before she could notice. When she did, Mike just smiled and told her, [b]"Take some of mine if you want, I couldn't be happier."[/b] Michael's hands went up, as if someone was pointing a gun to his head. Maria just looked at him, and he just took another bite of her's. This went on for quite a while, but Mike wouldn't let it get serious. After lunch, and taking up his trey, still filled with whatever these people considered lunch, he sat back down next to Maria. [b]"Math finals today. Anyone think I can fake sickness well enough to get out of it?"[/b] Mike wondered aloud. He didn't want to take it, Math was his worst subject. [b]"Oh, shut up and just do it. Two tests in a row-they might get suspicious."[/b] Maria told him, looking at him slightly annoyed that he wanted to fake sickness once again. [b]"Alright, alright..."[/b] Mike's arm back around her, he kissed her cheek quickly, and grinned at her. [/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Suddenly, the room had gone, much like the blooms from a tree, floating away in the distance. In it's place, was a cold whipping wind, and jagged swords of icy mountains, the ones farther south the hilt of the intimidating blade. The sunlight did nothing to warm the air. Hauken just smiled, and drew Hyournimaru, looking around for his opponent. From behind the frozen remnants of a withered tree, came a wolf that seemed to be chisled out of ice, with a ring of ice around it's eyes. When it stood still, the aura slowly emanitating, flared up in an anger, sending ice and dirt, with little stones, at everything in the immediate vicinity. [i]Hmph. So you are Hauken. I suppose you want my powe-[/i] Hauken cut him off ignorantly. [i]Ooh! Oh! You look like Fenrir.[/i] [i]Yes, that may be so-[/i] The Wolf was cut off again [i]Does that mean you ARE Fenrir?[/i] [i]I suppos-[/i] Hauken was extremely happy, and cut off Fenrir. [i]Sweet! My Hyournimaru's spirit is Fenrir![/i] [i]Does this have a point?[/i] That was the first full line that Fenrir got off, as he paced around, his frozen lips pulling into a grin. The aura flared again. [i]Erm...nope.[/i] Hauken grinned, and scratched the back of his head. [i]Well, I guess you want your power...for real. My power.[/i] [i]Yep. That's what I'm supposed to do, anyway. Let's get this show on the road![/i] Hauken was indignant in his judgement as he brandished Hyournimaru at Fenrir. In turn, Fenrir darted forward, dodging a few of Hauken's attacks, then rearing his head, firing off a gigantic blast of ice. Hauken barely sidestepped, as the blast came at him. [i]Geezus! Flinging balls of ice...[/i] [i]Why do you think your sword's name is Ice Ring?[/i] Fenrir replied dryly. He shot out another blast, and as Hauken sidestepped, he held out Hyournimaru, slicing the huge ball of ice in half. It fell to the ground with a clink. This was going to be a long battle, and the two wouldn't have it [i]any other way.[/i] Slash after slash, biting and gnawing, each had inflicted equal damage in different ways. Fenrir stood on all fours, red blood leaking from his lips and front paw, to white ground. Hauken was on his two feet, holding his sword, the daunting red draining from his hand and a gash on his stomach. [i]Good fight...Fenrir.[/i] [i]The same, Hauken. End it now?[/i] Hauken nodded at the Ice Wolf, and swished his sword out to the side, the blade, drenched in the slow running blood, flying from it. He huffed from exaustion. Fenrir's teeth were bared, claws extended. They ran at each other, both on equal ground. However, in the end, only one would win the battle, for the better of the war. That strike would not happen now. They both managed to parry each other's blows, thinking in perfect symmetry. Hauken's body flipped forward, his stomach and mind reluctant to follow. Fenrir managed a rather spectatular barrel roll midair, and landed on all fours. [b]"I see. This ain't gunna be easy, is it?[/b][/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Alexander Rumina. (Goes by Alex, or Rum.) [b]Age:[/b] 15. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://img54.imageshack.us/img54/9089/render8578oj.png]Click Here.[/url] [b]Starting Weapon:[/b] A broken gun. The gun was from his adopted fahter's days on the police force. Alex has tampered with it to make it unable to fire. [b]Personality:[/b] Most of the time, Alex is quiet, reserved, and cold, just like his eyes would leave you to believe. However, when he knows the people that he's around, he can be quite talkative and funny. The unusually quiet nature hides his high intelligence. Alex's memory sometimes claws through, thought most of of it is repressed in a sense. This memory might be what has caused his onset of silence, among many others that can cleary come to mind at time. [b]Worst Fear:[/b] Alex has a fear of insects and corpses. Together, they are his worst nightmare, and something that he loves to avoid all together. [b]Character Snippit:[/b] [b]"Off to 3rd peroid, c'mon!"[/b] [b]"...Okay."[/b] Alex didn't increase his pace at all. He didn't know them, besides what he saw of them in classes. His very nature was to be distrustful of those he didn't know too well. Taking the books from his locker, and closing the narrow box of metal, he looked to the floor as he walked. A hand clasped on his shoulder. A familiar grip, that turned him around to a smiling face. [b]"Hey there, Rum."[/b] It was his friend, Richard Gracehart. Most just called him Gracie, a name he wasn't too fond of. [b]"Hey."[/b] Even though Alex never usually talked to anyone but Rich and a few others, he was abnormally quiet today. [b]"Okay, you ain't gonna fool me. What's goin' on?"[/b] Richard was a good person, and able to pick up on what was bothering people. [i]Espcially[/i] Alex. [b]"...Memories, I guess."[/b] Alex truely didn't know. At the same time, they could be far and distant, but vivid and real. Of silen. He knew there was more of the word "Silen" but, his memory wouldn't go farther. His adopted father, James, was being chased, by a gruesome monster that looked like it had a trangular head....Pyramid Head... He snapped out of the repressed memory. [b]"You still there, Rum?"[/b] Rich asked, putting his hand back on Alex's shoulder. [b]"Erm...yeah...3rd peroid. C'mon, we better go."[/b] And Alex started down the hall.[/color][/size] [b]OOC:[/b] James, and Pyramid Head are refrences to Silent Hill.

[color=red][size=2][b]Warning!:[/b] This RPG will have graphic scenes, though not in the starting post here. You have been warned. From rape to dismemberment.[/color][/size] [color=darkslategray][size=3]Silent Hill: Dust in the Wind[/size][/color] [color=darkslategray][size=1] A silent California town. Not much, couple of groceries, a movie theatre, Pete's-bowl-a-rama, a couple of bars, and a hospital. The name of the town? South Ashfield. South Ashfield, California. Who wouldn't want to move there? Got cool wind in your face, Nice sunny, if not too sunny, atmosphere, the people are kind and nice, and it's an overall good community. Dispite the kind neighbours, you might not want to stay after you hear what I'm about to tell you. That town, was where a great battle took place. I know many people are skeptical when I tell them this. It took place between Samael, and Metatron. Metatron was looking for power, and Samael had it. Naturally, the cataclysm that followed was an eternal stain upon the dust that still whips around that...place. Long after the spirits had supposedly died down, in 1923, a building contractor had sought out this godforsaken place. not knowing the history. No one really did. They were too dead to tell it. So, naturally, greed does as greed is. That man, William Ashfield, had set up, quite frankly, a nesting ground for Hell. Years later, it was renamed Silent Hill. None of the inhabitants noticed anything for the longest while. It looked like the bleak hope of those long gone had begun to shine a little clearer. Until...Harry Mason, a 36 year old writer, he used to come here often with his wife, seven years ago just after the horrible fire occurred in the town harry and his wife find a child laying on the side of the road exiting from silent hill, they decide to keep the baby and name it Cheryl, a couple of years after that Harry's wife suffers a strange disease and passes away, now harry was left alone with Cheryl, he raised Cheryl better then most people would treat their own flesh and blood. Years later, he went there with the 7 year old Cheryl. They loved the town dearly, but they...would grow to hate it. When Harry and Cheryl came to Silent Hill, all communications were cut. Harry had made a crash landing to avoid a person in the middle of the road. When he woke, Cheryl was gone. and snow was falling. Where was Cheryl? Harry didn't know. He had to look. No matter what. He ended up nearly dead, and in the end, killing a god, Samael. HIs Cheryl...she had been possessed. He had no choice, but to kill her. He had mourned her. As e did, so started the hellish saga. Silent Hill would end up claiming more and more lives. Years later, after four separate events, in which some came out okay, and some were...gruesome, we come to this tale- no, chronicle, of Silent Hill. For the sake of what has happened, I shall call this forecoming event, Silent Hill: Dust in the Wind. A tribute to those that had succumbed, and those that have triumphed. --- "Silent Hill, ey? I GUESS so. Sounds too quiet, but okay. I'll catch a plane to Cali tonight. Yeah yeah, whatever." Alex laughed into the phone. His friend had wanted him to come up to California for a vacation with him. He never stopped his talking about it. Alex finally succumbed to it, and began to pack his things. iPod with his Kansas, Incubus, Green Day, Slipknot, and various others on it, several clothing items, a few things, and that was about it. Two hours later, and very aggrivated with the Flight Attendant trying to sell him his ticket to the wrong plane, Alex Rumina, age 16, had finally recived the ticket from the reluctant attendant. eyes jumping around, looking for the security gate. Sighting it, and the flight was about to leave, he quickly went through, just to reach the plane on time. --- Airport food sucks. Period. Alex had to suffer this ordeal, but just stuck with it, not hardly eating. The plane would be landing in an hour or so, and he would be at the California International Airport. Or CIA, interestingly enough. A thought about running around on the plane, screaming that the CIA was coming for a hostile take over, looking for terrorists came and past. After his life, Alex was still able to laugh. Lucky Alex. The plane made a safe decent, into the airport, where he soon was headed for Silent Hill, along with several others that would be staying in the same hotel as him. And would suffer the same ordeal. Though, none knew each other, they'd get real close, real fast. Or die, real fast. --- Alright. Been a long time since I did an RPG. Figured, "Better get back in the swing." So, in accordance to my Silent Hill experience (All four games.) I have decided to make the next installment, "Dust in the Wind." I, however, think we should skip the chitchat, and go straight to the sign up. --- [b]Name:[/b] Simple. Nothing too complicated. First and last, please. [b]Age:[/b] 13+ [b]Gender:[/b] [b]Appearance:[/b] Picture, description, or a mix of both. Detailed, please. [b]Starting Weapon:[/b] Here's where you have to be inventive. Your first weapon of many. No guns please, and nothing overpowerful. Like Henry, from "The Room", had a steel pipe. I will allow one type of knives: Swiss Army Knives. [b]Personality:[/b] Is your guy/gal a maniac? Socially frustrated? Kind? How do they act, specifially in the face of danger and fear. [b]Worst Fears:[/b] This is going to be fun for me. *Evil Laugh*. Everyone in Silent Hill faces their worst fears at some point. Like Harry, having to kill his own daughter. What. Are. You. Afraid. Of. [b]Character Snippit:[/b] Just a snippit of your writing prowess at this character. --- Now, welcome to the Ashfield Heights Hotel. Please enjoy your stay in Silent Hill.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][i]Clear your head, Akuma, now is not the time for romance and grief. You're right, Tetsu. My heart is in chaos...the rain falls...at least my inner world has a soothing rain, not the angry bullets and stabs of that outside. I thank you for that. I love the rain. I know, friend. For Jidanbou, for the 11th squad, and for Kenpachi...I will fucking [b]kill[/b] that bastard![/i] Akuma's spirit energy flared in a red and silver aura, as Nozomi stepped out, dressed for battle. She could feel the immensity, and was almost driven to her knees by his immense, emotion-kindled spirit energy. Noticing her, he slowly diverted it into Tetsu-Okami, and she soon stopped shaking. [b]"We better go, Nozomi-chan."[/b] Akuma told her coldy. She understood Akuma's battle mode. He just knew three words in that mode. Kill. Defeat. Protect. He had begun to slip into it. Opening the door for her, he stepped out, not noticing if Nozomi had begun to follow. He used the flash step to get on the other side of the wall separating him from continuing. [i]Akuma, do you think you have a chance against the Hollow Faced Shinigami? I've got more chance then Kenpachi. Remember the last duel we had with him? I didn't use your power nearly as much, and I still won. I miss Kenpachi...that bastard had to go off and fight the Hollow Faced Shinigami, didn't he...Kenpachi, you stupid bastard. Yachiru needs you. Rukongai needs you. Soul Society needs you. We can't do it all. [/i] Akuma broke into a run, the rain slickened floor no obstacle. Jumping from building to building wall, he soon came to his destination, opening the doors. The massive casket of Jidanbou, the Gatekeeper, and Akuma's only friend, stood in the middle. He lay a hand on the casket, tears mingling with the rain. He had slipped from battle mode on the way. [i]Jidanbou...No...You can't leave me all alone here...You were the one guy that understood me...Whatever the next life may hold, carry your head high. Carry it damn high, Jidanbou-chan.[/i] Akuma retreated into the ranks of captains, letting everyone think the tears were rain. With some amount of humor at what his name, Akuma, ment, he whispered, [b]"Devils never cry."[/b][/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]I've been working on some stuff in Photoshop for a while, and I'm jsut confident to show them...now. [IMG]http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/DataShouldBehave.jpg[/IMG] The render is Cloud from FF: Advent Children. Like you didn't know. I got the idea for "Data Should Behave as Such" From Star Ocean 3, and how Cloud seemed to be fading away. [IMG]http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/DontFuckWithMe.jpg[/IMG] Render is of Dante, from the upcoming sure-to-be hit, Devil May Cry 4. I got the idea from the way Dante acts, really, for the "Don't **** with me". Quote. Not my best, I think. [IMG]http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/SaveRukia.jpg[/IMG] Good ol' Renji, from Bleach. Quote is from ep. 32. Not my best. [IMG]http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/HollowInside.jpg[/IMG] Homage to ULX's Hollow-Kao no Shinigami. [IMG]http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/FadingInBG.jpg[/IMG] 'Nuther Dante. Nothing spectacular. That's it, for now. I'll do more every day.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Akuma sighed, but waved as Nozomi-chan left for Renji's house. The rain was too slow in the fall to comfort anyone, but it still helped. His arms now on the smooth stone, he was glad that only two things here were built out of leathality stone. the Shrine of Pentinence and the underground tunnels. The bandage on his arm squirmed slightly. That...was bad... Akuma sighed, ignored it, and looked up into the downpour. Everyone else was inside or out of the rain, seems he was the only one to stay out. The bleach in his hair would suffer for this showing the blond, black and red massacre that was left, but he didn't care. And the red was Hollow blood. That stayed, it wouldn't ever come off, even if he cut it. Besides, it looked fine by him. The somber, amber eyes of his looked to the dark clouds. The generality of Soul Society must be unhappy. Akuma was just...preoccupied. Running his hand through his hair, he stood on the ground and then opened up a secret plate, leading into the underground caverns, where 4th squad was cleaning. How demeaning to 4th Squad, they were healers. Not cleaners, the [i]baka[/i] that couldn't get into the Gotei 13 should be doing this. He charged up his spirit power, and let out a blast, making sure all of the 4th squad were out of the tunnels first. The 4th squad was done early. They thanked Akuma-taichio, and left. He didn't mind the the 4th squad commander got pissed off. Akuma would deal with that later. He didn't know where he was headed, so he popped up in a few places, one at Kenpachi's grave. Yachiru-chan was still there. The white, thin, ornately designed fine silk that lay over his Shinigami robes wasn't even touched by the grime down there. 4th squad did a good job. Coming behind Yachiru-chan, he put a hand on her small shoulder. She looked at him, and gave him a meek smile. [b]"Hey~o Akuma-taichio...."[/b] She said, still sad. [b]"Yachiru-chan, you okay?"[/b] [b]"...Yes, I am."[/b] She smiled at him, a real one. [/b]"Ken-chan had fun playing with you, you know! You were one of the few that could even touch him! You guys always ended in a draw."[/b] [b]"Its a shame, Yachiru. He was a good man, a great fighter, and a friend to me. Take care, Yachiru-chan. Just ask me for anything, okay?"[/b] [b]"Okay. Take care, Akuma-Ch~an!"[/b] She said, trying to give him a happy sendoff. Tetsu-Okami, as a Hell Butterfly, landed on her nose, tickling it a bit before leaving with Akuma. He retreated back into the tunnels. Akuma had one thought of where to go, he wanted to talk to someone he knew. Friends were scarce among him, he had maybe two. Once, three, but Zaraki Kenpachi, was dead. That Hollow faced Shinigami.... Akuma walked more, and came up at Nozomi-chan's quarters.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Time froze. Akuma stood still, so did Orihime. The world went into a pastel of grey as Tetsu-Okami, a man cloaked in a white robe with a red dragon, and long hair, handsome, came in front of Akuma. [i]Don't you love the rain, Akuma?[/i] [i]...Indeed, friend.[/i] [i]We should finish this fight. I feel Nozomi-chan's spirit energy...she feels sad.[/i] [i]Then we should end it. A spar is nothing compared to the dispair of a Shinigami that needs someone to talk to.[/i] Tetsu-Okami faded. The color returned to the world. Time resumed. The rain continued to fall. It had never stopped. Hair slick, weapon cold, the summery smell of the rain mixed with sweat, it was all what Akuma and Tetsu loved at that moment. Orihime was there too. She had begun to charge with Eiei. Akuma met her. Before she was in range, he charged up his spirit energy, letting it out in the slash of Zangeki, he took her by surprise. She flew backwards. After helping Orihime up, he simply told her, [b]"I am sorry for cutting the match short. There is something I must tend to. Maybe later."[/b] Akuma bowed, and began to visualize the Spirit Threads, grabbing the thread that was Nozomi's. He followed it, the rain still beating down. Akuma turned his head to the sky, enjoying the soft pour of rain, the rythmitic [i]tap-tap-tap[/i] on the ground and his face. There she was. Slumped against the fountain, and he walked to her, his Zanpakutoh dissapearing, and a Hell Butterfly apppearing in the air, the spirit of Tetsu-Okami. Without a sound, Akuma placed a hand on Nozomi's shoulder, and sat down beside her, the long wraps of hair slinking into the fountain. The arm on her shoulder slid all the way around both of her shoulders. [b]"Hey, Nozomi-chan..."[/b] Was all that Akuma said. He knew she felt...something. He didn't know.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Akuma grinned. He was going to have a fight, probably no better than some, but better than most. While she was going for a better position on him, Akuma took this time to jump into the air, moving Tetsu-Okami behind his back, the five fingered, one and a half foot bladed Zanpakutoh gleaming in what seemed to be eternal sunlight in the Court. Before she was completely done grabbing her weapon, he made a slash down her left arm, a bit shallow, but still painful. [b]"Don't turn your back to your enemy, Orihime!"[/b] Akuma roared, half hoping she would of been able to block or dodge it. Blood trickled from the wound. He let off a furious series of painful and deadly slashes at her, which were countered by Eiei. Using her quarterstaff, Orihime dashed back a bit, then lunged forward at his legs with Eiei, creating a large bruise. However, Akuma had been trained to block out pain. And to use the momentum created by the attacker against them. Akuma flipped forward, using the staff as a run-jump pallete, and lept over her head, aiming for a long gash down her back. He didn't know if he succeeded or not, but it was, on his part, a clever attack. The moment replayed in his head, as he dove in for another series of heavy, brutal, and fast slashes. Battle was battle, practice or not. He'd just have to hold the killing blows.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1] [u]The Basics[/u] [b]Name:[/b] (Surname, given name) Shichishito Hauken [b]Age:[/b] 14 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/captain.png]Hauken.[/url] [b]Personality:[/b] Hauken isn't what he should be, after the loss of his parents. Most kids at his age when they had died, would of grieved uncontrollably. He acknoledged that they had passed on, showed remorse, and then continued with every day life. I suppose you could say, in short, that he's a massive storage of energy shoved into a human body. Jumpy, and can't sit still for long, this young but impressive swordsman has show remarkable courage in the face of death. Hauken, can on one occasion, become very serious. If one of his comerades are hurt or in danger, he will take the blow for them without a second thought. And after they get over the intial stun, then the stun that he most likely survived relatively unscathed, he gets the message across. [i]Yah can't go dyin' on me yet![/i] [u]Weapon of Faith[/u] [b]Appearance/Weapon Specifics:[/b] [url=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y50/YamatoVergil/Inaction.jpg]Hauken in action[/url]. Hauken's weapon, Hyourinmaru, is a large katana, larger than his own body. The guard is in the shape of a star, the blade jagged, but very sharp. Hyourinmaru means Ice Ring. [b]Technique:[/b] Hauken has fashioned his own style of fighting. Combining the large size of Hyourinmaru, and his own strength and speed, he manages to take on any range of opponents with either brute force, simple elegance, or a balance of both. He prefers brute force. Hauken calls this way of fighting [i]Shichishito[/i], after his family name. [b]Weapon Power:[/b] Hauken is able to summon the spirits of the dead to Hyourinmaru, powering up the blade and his whole body in a bluish white aura. A mask of bone and stripes forms over Hauken's face, and the aura takes the shape of the bone mask, with flames. He can fire off explosions of spirit energy. [u]History[/u] [b]Biography:[/b] Hauken had a good life. He wasn't spoiled, but he wasn't poverty-striken either. His mother and father cared for him for a long time, until a tragic night, when several gang members had ambushed his mother and father, asking for money, getting two deaths and a thirty year sentence instead. Hauken didn't dispair long. His mother and father had taught him to be strong, and from the age of 3, had begun to teach him in the noble art of the katana. On his 5th birthday, they had given him a large katana, about six feet tall. This...was the greatest gift. When Hauken hit twelve, he seeked out his mother and father's killers, the local gang of dropouts and drug addicts. None got away from his sword, but it was broken and serrated in the process. For the next two years, Hauken lived by himself, training in secret, always honing his skills. He managed to make his old sword renown. He named it...Hyourinmaru. Ice Ring. [b]Character Snippit:[/b] [i]Come on! I'm not even breaking a sweat![/i] Hauken lept off of a mobster's back, taking him down with one slash. Hauken was short, 4'11, but that only served to his advantage. His foot took out the one sneaking up behind him. [b]"Don't sneak up on your enemy, stupid!"[/b] Hauken bent over the collasped figure, taunting, his finger waggling. Sheathing Hyourinmaru on his back, Hauken skipped down the road, the gang with guns all face down in the dirt. [b]"I'm just too good, ya can't beat me, the Ha~uken-sama!"[/b] He chanted to himself, skipping down the road. Someone was coming. Someone powerful. Someone dangerous. Hauken's intuition and incredible power told him this much. He turned the skip into a frontflip, unsheathing Hyourinmaru, the serrated sword gleaming in the soft, dimming moonlight. He wore a black suit, and had bushy hair, tangled and matted, giving him a rugged look. He sorta looked like Hauken's.....fath...er...? Completely random, on this one night? Impossible...but Hauken didn't want to believe that it was impossible. As the man passed, Hauken realized that it wasn't his father. Just a random passerby, wearing the same look. Hauken's spirit fell, but he knew he had to stop playing with himself like that. His father wasn't coming back. He was murdered right in front of Hauken. Nickles and dimes, old time ryhmes. That was his childhood, a loving but poor one. He didn't have time to ponder the past, as he set out for home.[/color][/size]

[color=darkred][size=1]Forescore and ten years ago, I had been wandering the land known as [b]Cyberspace.[/b] I had my trusty Zanpakuto- Ok, fine. Here's what happenend. I was browsing on Gamefaqs.com's boards, and saw a link to a quiz. I believe it was, "What color Link are you?" (Red if you must know.), and at the time, I was looking for a new message board to inhabit, infest, and root myself, and I saw Otaku[b]Boards[/b]. I esplored, and without thinking, plunged myself in here. w00t. My life story![/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Akuma saw the attack coming. His high spirit power wasn't just for a large Zanpakutoh. Left hand on his Zanpakutoh, he sidestepped, flicking the sword from the sheath, aiming for the back of her head. Orihime had felt it, and she spun, batting it back down in the sheath. Akuma grinned. [b]"Good to see my opponent can sense spirit energy better that most of the people I've thought."[/b] With that, he dissapeared from her sight, suddenly above her in the air. Tetsu-Okami in hand. Orihime brought her Zanpakutoh up, to block. The swords never connected, as his leg shot out, striking her in the shin. She managed to catch her fall, springing back up to her feet. [b]"Did I mention...no rules. Kicks, punches, biting, anything's aloud. Don't hold back, Orihime."[/b] Drifting past her, without a trace, he went for three stabs. One in the spirit link, the other in the chain of fate. Even practice had to be deadly. She managed to block and parry, sending her Zanpakutoh for his stomach. Akuma drifted back. However, one of the long locks of his hair, entwined in bandage, fell clean on the ground. [b]"Looks like I got you this time, Akuma-taichio!"[/b] She smiled, then went back to battle pose. The girl was good. Time to stop clowning around. Akuma increased his spirit energy, the hair soon growing back, as he ran his hand through the bleach white hair, to the red ends. The girl was indeed good. But the power separation between her seat and captain.... [b]"Indeed."[/b] Was all that Akuma would say, before running for her, Zanpakutoh filling with spirit energy. He felt empty that day, but his sword...was not. Tetsu flowed with a silver and red sheen, from the massive amounts of energy being poured in. Akuma [i]lived[/i] for battle. Rumors went around of him being named Kenpachi next. He was one who had made a cut on even Zaraki Kenpachi, whose spirit energy was so thick no one could make a dent in him but the highest powered people. Zaraki couldn't ask his Zanpakutoh its own name. It didn't matter. He was as tough as the strongest steal. And yet...Akuma had damaged him. He should of been captain of the 11th division, but he took third. Ichimaru Gin had taught him. He owed it to him. [b]"Usuwara, Tetsu-Okami!"[/b] The blade glowed with the bright silver and red light, and dashed up his arm, forming as a metal gauntlet. Tetsu-Okami still glowed with the immense power. [b]"I got no interest in weaklings, so Shikai."[/b] Akuma's personality completely changed. He waited for her to Shikai, so he would have a challenge. He wouldn't use Bankai...it'd be no fair.[/color][/size]

[color=darkslategray][size=1]Akuma was surprised that Nozomi-san had remembered his birthday, but he soon shrugged it off. He felt a slight bit guilty, but pushed that aside. From his quarters, he grabbed his Zanpakutoh, Tetsu-Okami, and made his way for the trainning hall. Rukongai surrounded the city of sorts, where the rest of Soul Society lived. Jidanbou guarded the gate, and no normal passerby could have a hope. Nor most of the hardened warriors. This gave Akuma and many others comfort. Not bothering to change his garments, Akuma grabbed a pair of fingerless cloth gloves, sliding them over his tough hands. His right arm was still bandaged. Akuma didn't know why he never had bothered to take it off. He guessed it was homage to the fight he had to bandage it from, from a fight with [i]Menos Grande[/i]. He and another got away. Menos Grande...didn't. [b]"I'm probably just too lazy to take it off."[/b] Akuma laughed. He didn't mind the white bandage, slightly frayed. Before he left for the training hall, he redid the bandage. To his horror, the wound had come back. It was small. [i]You can change from just one bite.[/i] When Akuma looked again, it had faded. Must of been a trick of the eye. Fetching a white bandage, he looked at it, and sighed. The metal cuff around his wrist clinked lightly against the two chain links hanging from it. Akuma bandaged his arm again. He flexed. Released. He flexed. Released. It would hold. Grabbing his Zanpakutoh, Akuma returned to his feet. Sliding open the door, someone tapped his shoulder. Hand on Tetsu-Okami, he spun. Who could be in his own quarters? He sighed. It was his fukutaichio, Renku Inomi. [b]"Inomi...."[/b] Akuma growled. Inomi grinned. [b]"Yes, Akuma-Taichio?"[/b] [b]"Get. Out. I'm not in the mood today."[/b] [b]"But Akuma-Taichio...I brought you a birthday gift."[/b] Inomi held out a large box, ornately wrapped. Akuma took it, thanked him, and told him once again, to get out. [b]"Fine, fine, Akuma-Taichio..."[/b] He wouldn't stop grinning, like a damn fox. Finally, to Akuma's relief, he left. The paper fell off in four even sections, the slight ring of metal evident, but no blade. He pulled out a pair of sharkskin, fingerless fighting gloves, white with a skull wreathed in black flames. Taking off the old cloth gloves, he slipped these on. They were comfortable, but provided good grip, even if his hands got bloody. Akuma resumed his path to the Training Grounds. On the way, he ran into a fellow Shinigami. Coming behind them, he simply asked, without seeing who exactly it was, [b]"Want to practice?"[/b][/color][/size] [b]OOC:[/b] This can be anyone, I don't care who.