The Harlequin

[color=indigo][font=gothic][I]Ilmiwyrth smiled, and his face swam for a moment. When it re-solidified, he was grinning like a maniac, revealing teeth filed to points, cannibal style. His face was covered in inked black tatoos, strange tribals and the occasional black slaughter ritual. From each ear hung a few strung together vertebrae. [/I] Ilmiwyrth: That do? Lifé: Perfect. Ilmiwyrth: Good. I'll even act the part, just to relieve boredom. Should I be barbaric or just coldly intelligently vicious? Lifé: The first one. It'll leave a different impression. [I]Ilmiwyrth chuckled, a ghastly reverbration in the back of his throat, before bursting out into bellowing, full-throated laughter.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: For what you missed, what could have been? Lifé: Not exactly. [I]Ilmiwyrth returned to his silence, allowing her to return to hers. Pensiveness tended to get epidemic quite fast. And very little tended to help. Mainly because after all, Ilmiwyrth was content with melancholia. Happiness could be too easily snatched away, but melancholia had its securities. Its rewards. He'd long since resigned himself to his way of life, and he several doubted that this fleeting influence would change it much. Chances are he'd outlive most of these creatures anyway, though not neccessarily on this plane of existance. Hopping among differerent time frames had some problems attached to it.... He simply continued putting one foot in the other, not really concerned what that action lead him to.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]It's normal on OB for rpgs to start with a thread in the Recruitment forum, so that people can see that you have an idea for an rpg running, and can sign up if they wish. These sign-up threads tend to include a storyline, and what you would ask that people list in their sign up; character name, age, a description, a biography, etc. All this is basically a way of making it easier for the rpg creator, as well as getting the rpg recognised at all. This would belong in the Recruitment sub-forum, and you'll need to rewrite it into a typical sign up form. Thread moved.[/font][/color]

[color=indigo][font=gothic][i]With a snapped glare at Vichante for getting in first, Ilmiwyrth noted her direction, and with signature impatience, started walking.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: What are the odds that someone will try to kill me when we get there? Lifé: Are you always so paranoid? Ilmiwyrth: Paranoid? I've had my services bought and sold like cattle, and my body with them. My soul has played host to all sorts of greater evil and fiends. I've been subjected to torture for all kinds of causes, quite often lasting more than most natural life span, no matter the creature in question. I've been used to tear entire realms apart, and let my patron feel an entire universe's pain through me. Every single living thing, dying inside me. Am I paranoid? In the multiverse I'm used to, I'm a commodity. It pays to be paranoid. Lifé: I blame your work ethic. Ilmiwyrth: So do I most of the time. When I'm in a position to allow anything to take the blame. [I]He lapsed into moody silence, staring at the wan moon. And not finding much help there. Soft murmers of conversation passed between Vichante and Shalistrae, Ilmiwyrth made no move to overhear. He had far too many problems to be worrying about gossip. There was still a potential collection of deities on his trail, after all.[/font][/color][/I]

[color=indigo][font=gothic][I]Qyrain relaxed, letting the mana flow out of his body. He shrugged, and turned to Indrid and Dragella.[/I] Qyrain: I never actually trusted religion anyway. Indrid: You believe him? Qyrain: What have I got to lose either way? This certainly makes more sense, not to mention appeals to my particular bent of insane hilarity. Indrid: So what? We go attack god then? Qyrain: No, we attack anyone who attacks us. Check that...Just anyone. Angel, demon, or misguided human. Indrid: Some moral crusade of destruction? Qyrain: Of course not. Merely rampant, typical humanoid paranoia and aggressiveness. The demon said it himself. They aren't perfect, we aren't perfect. The angels certainly aren't perfect, through self-righteous blindness if nothing else. Imperfect things can die. And with both sides of the conflict calling on mana and burning it like cheap oil, the more we take up, the more likely it is that certain things, such as the world, will remain standing when its all over. Are we fighting Apocalypse or a demon invasion anymore? We're fighting for soveriegnity. Humanity. [/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: So basically a longer lived version of our current company, with a lot more boring ceremony? Lifé: Oh you'll wish that were all. Ilmiwyrth: I've been to Syralik. It was for the investment of the new high whatever they have there, it was pretty unpronouncable. The ceremony itself lasted several months. Preperations had taken a decade. The after party lasted a few hours.... Not one of the people on the entire planet could hold their alcohol. Lifé: Let me guess, you supplied it? Ilmiwyrth: Well, yes. Shalistrae: Can we really trust him anywhere close to a position of relative power?[/font][/color]

[color=indigo][font=gothic]I, of course, will have to say Ravenstorture...No surprise that. Other than that, Raiha of course. And Piro...(I haven't received that skeleton yet either!)[/font][/color]

[color=indigo][font=gothic]I'll go with Raiha's approximation of the situation.... Name: Quin Kalcade Age: 29 Appearance: 5 foot 10, and rather slender. Eyes are a green/grey colour, with an irregular ring of washed out yellow around the pupil. Hair is black, and falls to his shoulders. Bio: Quin's one of your more than slightly bored, supremely confident people who are blasé to the point where life and experiences are either a joke or completely useless. Depending on what kind of mood you're in. Often morose, and always sarcastic, Quin's long since lost faith in anything resembling reality, and prefers to exist in a situation where he can more or less make his own rules, and doesn't have to live up to any kind of expectation.[/font][/color]

[color=indigo][font=gothic][I]Ilmiwyrth chose to ignore that. It wasn't particularly hard, having had quite a bit of experience at it in the past. It was a matter of principle almost.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: So, what in hell do we do now? Vichante: Have you ever been on holiday? Ilmiwyrth: I'm a dimension hopping reality crafter. I spent a few decades a while back on a tropical paradise, and since then, can't stand indolence of any kind. Shalistrae: Decades? Just how old are you, anyway? Ilmiwyrth: Old enough to know what's good for me...Without having my bones ache yet. Lifé: You don't excercise enough then. Ilmiwyrth: There's a lot of things I don't do. Talk about things I don't do is one of them.[/font][/color]

[color=indigo][font=gothic]Qyrain: For a demon, you seem rather hesitant to kill. Shall we investigate why? [I]The being in front of him returned to blusterous challenge. He obviously had some measure of intelligence. It merely smiled, his blade tracing an easy, threatening arc through the air. Qyrain dropped back into as easy knifehand stance, his body awash with mana. His eyes were pristine snow, and white pulses could be seen in his neck. Even his fingerstips, under the nails, appeared white. The demon remained firmly unimpressed anyway. It contemptuously flicked a spray of acid towards Qyrain, that intentionally fell short. Qyrain took in the smoking ground, allowing himself a note of rueful amusement. He straightened, but kept his body loose enough to dodge.[/I] Qyrain: Apparently, humankind was out of their league as soon as this whole thing started. I severely doubt one more time will make a difference. "Whether I kill you now, or I stand back and allow you to be caught in the crossfire, you will die. You're only option is to leave." Qyrain: Even though that's fully based on the idea that you'll win the battle. Should we, say, secrete ourselves with the Angelic Guard, who would no doubt be less hostile to the idea of a little help, and they happened to claim victory in the fray...I have this lingering feeling that our chances of survival would be far greater than what you would have us believe them to be. [I]The demon shook its head in what could almost be exasperation.[/I] "Why is it that you mortals must ever fail to see reason unless it is paired with shed blood?" Qyrain: Because you and your ilk would have it no other way, demon. "You're rather outspoken, for a mortal." [I]Qyrain only returned a tight smile, leashed agression almost pouring out of him. The demon noticed, and returned a wicked grin of its own. The blade raised again, corrosive, foul liquid redoubling its appearance. The ground around the being was not scarred and torn, the quiet hiss of decay having gone un-noticed during the altercation. The place was fast becoming a sere, blighted stretch of ground, for all that it wasn't much better in the first place. The manufactured creature in front of them showed no concern, apparently untouched by the hideous fluid. Most likely a result of its unnatural beginnings. The air thickened around them, tension and weather combining into a stifling mix. Qyrain's eyes narrowed, the white glare seeming all the more intense for it. He felt Indrid and Dragella shift uncomfortably, somewhere behind him. He stopped a moment to consider whether he was indeed too far out of his depth, but the answer was not yet forthcoming.[/font][/color][/I]

[color=indigo][font=gothic]One line posts....Three line sign ups and storylines...This is the second time I've had to talk to this particular group about improving the quality of their posts. Can we please not have a third time?[/font][/color]

[color=indigo][font=gothic]Well, something like this certainly doesn't belong in the Adventure Arena. I have a strange feeling it should end up in Otaku Lounge, but it's so incoherent that I can't understand enough to be certain... and by the look of it, I somehow doubt it would lead to any intelligent discussion anyway. Thread closed.[/font][/color]

[color=indigo][font=gothic]No Vicky, that wouldn't be breaking a rule. And Scorpio, restarting an old idea for an rpg isn't against the rules either. I'd like to point out though, that having multiple people clutter up a thread pointing out what they consider to be against the rules, or asking about the rules, is somewhat against the hereby overly-mentioned rules. Scorpio, there's a report to Moderator button for a reason, and Vicky, if you've got a question, PM a moderator. Preferably Warlock...o.O. If this thread can be turned into something resembling a coherent, spam free sign up in the next day, than I'll leave it open.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth gave a sharp, barking laugh, and ran off a swift, flawless string of runic designs in the air as the creature reverted to a discorporate state and tried with redoubled fury to escape. The thing's dissonant energies unwound inside his astral cage nevertheless. The wraith like being quivered, its stressed being giving off sharp, shattering resonance that left Ilmiwyrth gritting his teeth to contain. Free spirit unwound from the very thread of creation, the illict energies thrown off could unravel matter at will. This was no mere exorcisism. This was destruction, pure and simple. at last, the pressure collapsed, fading away like voices carried away by winds. Ilmiwyrth held the seals a second longer, noting that the other formerly possessed beings looked more than slightly confused. He at last relaxed his guard, and was rewarded with no triumphant spirit escaping. He looked around, quite certain in a minute, something that was either a)stupid or b) merely annoying, would happen, and this time, not even at his instigation.[/font][/color][/I]

[color=indigo][font=gothic][I]The first minor demon wasn't a problem. After conveniently overextending itself in a lunge with a pike-like weapon, Indrid left it with a few extra holes to breath out of. Dragella disposed of the next one with a few sharp slices. Qyrain hung back from the combat on both occasions, looking at several points like he wanted to step in, but some uncertainly kept him in place. He quite certain that some cosmic indifference would mean he'd have to handle the next one though. The rain started abruptly, bringing with it ferocious storm elements. Qyrain didn't know why, and he dismissed the idea that they were approaching some kind of elemental nexus as pure fancy. They were approaching a demon infestation, not some malignant weather fiend. Unfortunate that, but what could one do. Qyrain absently let energy run through him, trying to determine how it could be controlled, or at the very least, harnessed. Though he could fill himself to the point where his aura seemed to quiver, he could not direct a single spark of power outside that influence. Some sort of trigger must be required, but whether he could provide it, or whether it must come from an outside threat, remained to be seen. He found out a good half a second later, when he was abruptly thrown to the ground. A minor fiend, not powerful, but muscled like an alley cat, had slipped up behind him, and knocked his feet out from under him. It sprang towards him now, talons braced for the kill. Qyrain coiled his legs like a viper, and straightened them just as fast, lofting the creature over his head. He brought his legs down and rolled forward, coming to his feet in a low tiger stance, fingers liked talons and locked. The demon snarled, and lunged again. Qyrain danced aside, and thrust his hand forward. His fingers impaled like enspelled daggers, rending a hole in the creature's wings and torso. It screamed, a shrill, piercing sound, and dropped away, fleeing. Qyrain looked to Dragella and Indrid, a slight smile on his face.[/I] Qyrain: It seems such displays aren't really of much use, when one's body can become a weapon. [I]Qyrain looked down at his scythe, debating a moment, before shaking his head. If he was in a position to need it, he'd be dead anyway, and he could do without the added encumberance. Lockstep and slide, he spun, alerted by a clink of gravel. Not the being he had previously run off, by any rate. This was something, or someone different. [/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]The felled man shimmered a second, before dissolving, scintillating smoke pouring from the wound instead of blood. His body basically dry-melted, into a wisp-fine powder that seemed to feed on itself, leaving only a cloud of smoke that lost its iridescent intensity and abruptly fled, leaving a tall, haughtily beautiful figure in its place. It stared at them, glacial blue eyes framed by perfect, long lashes. His chiselled, expressive features spoke volumes of the agonies he had in store for them. Ilmiwyrth gave him about 5 seconds of posturing before spinning a series of sigils into existance, framed in pure light. Rune and counter seal paired in intent to bind, trapping free spirit in a void of etheric existance,leaving it no where to go. The being raged a moment, then concentrated, and started to slip away.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: The bastard decided that becoming material was an option! [I]The being stopped abruptly, in twin with a chill laugh from Vichante.[/I] Vichante: Think you can hold your side of it up? Ilmiwyrth: As long as you can. Ladies, your cue. [I]Bound physically and etherically by both controlled force and raw power, the being could only let that haunting visage twist into hideous rage.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Vichante swore, and closed his eyes. He sent questing fingers of intend through his aura, finding to his amazement that there was an established reservoir of energy pulsing in various links. He cautiously attempted to engage some. It flowed freely, but was not replaced.[/I] Vichante: There is enough residual power left to last me a few weeks of constant use, more if I work out a way to supplement it. Ilmiwyrth: Then why in hell was this all such a problem, if we've all basically worked out that we're more than well-armed? Vichante: You really don't take well to having to be patient, do you? Ilmiwyrth: ....What's your point. I say we go visit this village, take care of this fiend of yours, and....well...I don't care what we do. But can we just do something?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Vichante: What's your problem now? Ilmiwyrth: Quite simple. One. I have, in no way, shape or from, any difficulty in holding a being, immaterial or otherwise, in place, for as long as I want it to stay there. 25 seconds, two minutes, or a few centuries, it won't particularly matter to me. Secondly, I have to watch people dance? Vichante: I know which is more pressing... Ilmiwyrth: Couldn't be a hard decision. Lifé: Don't you want to watch me dance? Ilmiwyrth: Please don't pout at me, and please don't make suggestions like that until I'm reconciled to the idea. Lifé: I thought you were. Ilmiwyrth: I probably lied a lot. So, why don't we go find ourselves a rather dispensible minion?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: I suppose they'll want to take it out on me? Lifé: I imagine most of us would. Ilmiwyrth: Ah well. What can you do. Lifé: You can start by being a little more helpful. Ilmiwyrth: I could, but most of my knowledge lies in the area of extra planar beings, not celestial, infernals and their ilk. Lifé: Then shut up. [I]Ilmiwyrth rolled his eyes. He purposely failed to mention there was a damn good reason he knew a lot about outsiders. It probably wouldn't help, all things considered. Even if infernals were still subject to an imposed reality, which he tended to be able to impose any way he liked... He had a strange feeling that it probably wouldn't work this time though. Just because nothing was ever easy.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: So I assume this is where we run off on some sacred quest to destroy and or banish him?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth's eyes narrowed, his facade as a downtrodden jester no longer in evidence. He flexed his fingers like talons, and waited until the other three had left before turning himself. He gave the tavern a last once over, smiled tightly in respone to the glares. And let himself out.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: I think we have about five minutes before we're followed. Lifé: You give it that long? Ilmiwyrth: No, I can make it that long. [I]Ilmiwyrth turned back to the tavern, stilled a second, and promptly replaced the wooden door which a much thicker granite one. The windows followed.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: They can either knock down the walls or simply try and force the door. Either way, it'll take them a while. Lifé: I thought you didn't like doing that? Ilmiwyrth: So? Shall we leave, or would you prefer to get jumped? Or don't tell me you have the insane idea of actually doing something about this place.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: The sheer inimical nature is refreshing. [I]As usual, his remark to no one in particular was left to that audience, and only payed attention to by that audience. Ilmiwyrth sighed, and studied the village. It wasn't exactly remarkable. He heard a bit of further conversation in the background, and ignored it until he felt a tug on his arm.[/I] Lifé: Do you randomly go into dazes a lot? Ilmiwyrth: If I say yes, will it help me get away? Lifé: No. Ilmwiyrth: Alright then. Yes. So anyway, how long [I]are[/i] we staying here for? Five minutes? Ten?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Well, I don't really mind being a Mod, even though I haven't been for a long time, but that's because I Mod the forum I spend the most time in anyway, so it's not so bad. I wouldn't like to Mod anything other than the Adventure Arena though.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmwiyrth, for what had to be the hundredth time today, sighed deeply. His next sally, strangely enough though, was addressed to Shalistrae.[/i] Ilmiwyrth: Is she ticklish anywhere? Shalistrae: How would I know? Ilmiwyrth: Oh, now you're hedging. [I]His raised eyebrow didn't leave a lot of room for interpretation.[/I] Vichante: What are you implying? [I]Now all three of them were glowering at him. Ilmiwyrth gave a burst of rakish laughter, about time the balance restorted itself. He did mak for the village quite quickly though.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Okay....I'm quite aware of the fact that you're all quite new at this. However, I have read posts here that are more than three lines, and I believe that they are more appropriate than the three line posts that several of you are in habit of making. They don't exactly contradict any of OB's rules, but they aren't exactly living up to certain expectations either. I'm not trying to put anyone down as a bad RPer, and I'm not saying I intend to close this thread, but enough of the three lines of less posts please? Improved quality would make the Adventure Arena a better place, and I don't want anyone becoming accustomed to the idea that this is the level of RPing that goes on at Otaku Boards. Thanks.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: I don't suppose you also happen to be with various mafias? [I]She didn't stop. Or hear him apparently. Ilmiwyrth wasn't inclined to press the point. Asiding to get someone to send lawyers, weapons and money....But he doubted that would be enough. Ilmiwyrth followed along, basically disconsolate, partially morose, somewhat downtrodden, and more than a little confused. But that seemed to be life these days, and at least this way he didn't have to worry about getting lost. Or anything else. Just having to walk, and do nothing remotely intelligent, suddenly had a lot of upsides.[/font][/color][/I]