Zen Posted January 28, 2007 Share Posted January 28, 2007 [center][size=1] A [b]Boss[/b] Production[/center][/size] [center][b][u]The Magicians [/u][/b][/center] [center] [img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v332/PicKitty/TheMagicianspromosplash.png[/img][/center] [size=1] [color=red][center]Rated[b][PG-13][/b] for Violence and Language[/color][/center] [i] It was a chilled autumn night over New York City. A heavy rain shower drenched the street-going inhabitants. People flooded the concrete and pavement in mass at all times, resembling a flowing river delta. No one was an individual, despite their many different appearances, faces, creeds, doctrines, and orientations, for no one looked into the face of another. No one recognized one another. No one acknowledged another?s existence. In the modern day and age of high speed gratification, every person was their own support system. They no longer required interaction between fellow human beings. Simply drifting, drifting through life to pursue their own ambition at the cost of the faceless others. So unaware of others, so out of touch with their souls, that these people failed to realize the amazing and impossible feats performed before their very eyes. Acts of great mercy and heroism bestowed upon them each day, left unnoticed. It was this very selfish ignorance which allowed ?them? to exist. Allowed ?the others? to live in secrecy, to practice their arts and sciences without bother or reprehension. Beings of other worldly talent and ability, these people were gifted from birth with the power to change and alter the physical and spiritual world around them. Long ago, in the ages of chivalry and heroes, they were known by many names. Witch, wizard, warlock, magi, and alchemist. Through out the countless ages, these people have survived and passed down their talents to new generations. Now left to their own will, these magical beings go unnoticed. Their feats of magic are rationalized by the mass human mind as simply tricks of smoke and mirror. Slights of hand and misdirection. Unable to accept the impossible, these people are ruled out as showmen and street performers by the media and masses. All of them, ignorant of the truth that real magic is being performed in plain sight before them. Luckily for humanity, these individuals have stuck to a strict code of ethics which they all follow and enforce. Aware of each other, those who disobey the sacred ?Magician?s Code? are dealt with swiftly. For fear of exposure and exile from civilization, the magical ones hide their true identities and ?reveal? their tricks to keep suspicion at bay. To this day, their secrets have remained unknown. However, a strange disruption has been sensed through out the city. An upset in the balance of the invisible forces of nature has occurred. Unable to pin point its location, the followers of the Magician?s Code are on constant alert. Restlessness has cursed them, and danger is afoot. Dark skies are on the horizon in the eyes of the Magicians?[/i] [b][center]___________________________________________________[/center][/b] Amongst the unknowing stream of lives on the wet New York streets, a particularly special young man wades through the river. His name is Mugen Shisa, a 21 year old young adult of Okinawan descent, his unique complexion contrasts the scattered night-lights provided by late attractions in the city. Garbed in loose jeans and a thin red hooded sweat shirt, he seemed out of place walking calmly through the rain unprotected. His clothing remained dry despite the heavy precipitation, an invisible shield of sorts protecting his person from the outside. The rain drops simply glided away from him. Regardless, he attained no odd looks by passers by, all of them too busy avoiding the rain themselves or entertaining what ever desire they had in mind at the moment. Mugen himself had his own objective to entertain. This would be his job as a performer. Mugen?s particular gift allowed him to perform physical feats unattainable by regular men. His face was serene and calm, as was required of his gift. Peace of mind, a calmed center, and a balanced inner-flow. These were the requirements of a qi-do master. Mugen possessed these traits at a remarkable level, showing them in a warm up as he came near his destination. A brightly-lit theatre of sorts, Mugen had gone by another name on stage, ?The Soaring Tiger?. Something a stage-manager thought up after his first initial performance at an open talent audition. The Soaring Tiger was a part of an act called ?Realms of the Unreal?, a series of short-performances where individuals displayed great feats of magic, physical skill, and etc. A circus of sorts. Some where normal humans particularly adept at some trait, others where magic beings such as Mugen. Mugen entered through a side door in a dank alley way, escaping the rain, he none the less kept his invisible shield on so he could keep his flow at a constant. Continuing into the dimly lit backstage area, Mugen ran into the show?s director. An aggressive, portly Italian man by the name of Joe. [b] ?You?re late again, Mugen!?[/b] Joe?s voice seemed to be an angry grumble in his throat. [b] ?Sorry, boss??[/b] Mugen replied nonchalantly while removing his sweater and other clothing, as he approached a costume rack. [b] ?I got caught in traffic.?[/b] [b] ?Don?t give me that, kid. You don?t even own car?.?[/b] Mugen began sifting through the assorted clothing and selected a shimmering Karate-styled gi made of black silk. [b] ?There?s a lot of people in this city.?[/b] Mugen smirked as he automatically dressed himself. [b] ?Whatever just hurry your *** up. You?re on next.?[/b] with that, Joe turned away and began shouting orders at light technicians. Tightening his belt, Mugen gave himself a once over in a vanity mirror, ruffled his hair, and started towards the stage. He could hear the sounds of applause as the last act finished up. The curtains dropped and the lights darkened as Mugen stepped onto the big stage. [b] ?Ladies and Gentlemen, prepared to be mesmerized by the amazing Soaring Tiger!?[/b] The announcer?s voice blared through the speakers behind Mugen as the curtain rose. He assumed a position of readiness and faced the crowd, bowing. Then the music began, a blend of traditional Asian orchestra with techno beats. Beginning with slow motions of the hands and stepping with the feet, Mugen picked the pace up and activated his underlying powers. Sending his body into spins and leaps unseen by the audience, he was quickly met by great applause. Soaring through the air like his name sake, Mugen performed leaping backflip kicks at inhuman jumping heights and multiple spin kicks from a single leap. The audience in serene ignorance believed there to be strings attached, wire-work and such. This is just what Mugen wanted of them. His performance ended with the expected clapping and cheering from the crowd. Mugen continued back stage, just another night of paid work. It was a good gig to him. After a few parting words and goodbyes, Mugen dressed back in his street clothes, he went exit through the same side door way as he entered. Placing his hand on the doorknob, Mugen hesitated. He felt something strange in the air. He had sensed a strange presence on the other side. Slowly, he cracked the door open, peaking out to see nothing but falling droplets of water. He put one of his feet out, waited, and then the other. Closing the door behind him, Mugen was startled by a shadowy figure standing directly beside him, behind the door. Reacting quickly, Mugen slid backwards on his feet gracefully, his body seemingly moving on an unseen conveyer belt. The shadowy figure was cloaked in a black rain coat. Its face hidden by a dark shadow cast by the hood, Mugen could tell it?s gender by it?s masculine build and broad shoulders. Normally, Mugen would have told the man he had no money or change to give up. But something strange about this man let Mugen know he was not a mugger or thief of any sort. He simply stood menacingly staring into Mugen?s face with a black gaze. Mugen spoke hesitantly. [b] ?What is it you want from me??[/b] he spoke plainly. For a moment, the dark figure said nothing. Just continued observing Mugen from blackness. Then he spoke in a grizzly baritone. [b] ?My master expresses an interest in you, child. He requests audience with you.?[/b] [b] ?Why does he want me for? I don?t give private shows?.?[/b] [b] ?Do not play fool to me, Mugen Shisa. My master knows of your abilities, and demands you to make his acquaintance.?[/b] Mugen was confused and infuriated by the dark man?s blunt order. [b] ?Who the hell is you master??[/b] [b] ?That cannot be spoken of here. Come with me and all will be made clear.?[/b] the figure replied in an uncaring tone. Mugen became more upset at this and his face grew into a sneer. [b] ?Hell no! I?m not going anywhere with some psychopath in a raincoat.?[/b] [b] ?Then you leave me no choice but to take you by force.?[/b] the dark figure reached out his arm and extended a gloved hand. He began mumbling strange incantations beneath his breath. Barely audible, Mugen watched puzzled as a strange black mist, like physical shadows began spewing from his coat?s sleeve and moving towards Mugen quickly. Mugen panicked and backed away but found that the black mist was surrounding him from all direction. With flight out of his options, Mugen decided to fight back. Gripping his right fist tight, a white steam began flowing around his hand as he concentrated his strength into it. His qi flow was becoming visible around him as he focused its power into his fist. With a great yell, Mugen launched forward at other worldly speed and rammed his fist into the dark man?s abdomen. The dark man flew back several feet, causing the black mist to disperse, but he still landed safely. [b] ?You?ve made a grave mistake child? You shall pay for your betrayal of the Master.?[/b] Before Mugen could attack again or respond, the dark figure faded into the Shadows and disappeared. Mugen was scared. Not of the man?s power, no. He knew exactly what this man was, and why he was capable of such feats. But he was scared of the man?s intention. Something was not right about him. He represented the ominous feelings he?d been sharing with others of the magic persuasion of recent times. Mugen knew that he?d been directly placed in a position of involvement with the situation now. It was his responsibility to further investigate this occurrence and get to the bottom of who that man was, and who he meant by his master. Other wise he?d face possible charges from the Code followers of neglecting duty and responsibility. Cursing his luck and situation, Mugen made his way home. The investigation would have to start tomorrow, other wise he?d have no peace of mind. He?d have to use all his leads and connections to solve this mystery? [center]___________________________________________________[/center] [color=darkred] Welcome to the world of Magicians. A modern day place where magic beings hide in plain site for the world to speculate. While some magicians exploit their gifts for money, others prefer to hide theirs and use them only when needed. There are many kinds of magician in all shapes and sizes. Some are over the top showmen, while others try to hide amongst the people and keep their secret within. Regardless of their differences though, all magicians follow the Magician?s Code to keep themselves and the rest of the world safe from those who would use their gifts to seize power over others. Such a dilemma has occurred in the magician?s world as of recent. A mysterious figure has arisen in the magical underground, attempting to contact and recruit other magicians for his sinister cause. [center][size=2][b][u]Sign Ups[/u][/b][/size][/center] In this RPG, you play one of the magicians who resist the call of evil to help prevent this disaster from occurring. You will create a magician all your own, a person capable of using magic. However, magic defers with every person. Each magician has their own special gift. Mugen is able to manipulate and control his inner qi, or spiritual magic energy. This allows him to either focus it inwardly and maximize his body?s power and speed, or focus it outwardly to create barriers or projective attacks. The dark man who faced Mugen is capable of manipulating shadows and darkness through verbal spells. What will your magician be? A summoner of other worldly entities and spirits? A telekinetic capable of attacking with his mind? An alchemist capable of creating any object of their desire from base objects around them? You decide your magicians power, job, and etc. Are they a stage magician? Or just a humble book store clerk? For the sign ups for the RP, I don?t want the conventional form to be filled out. I want a few good paragraphs describing your character. In your sign up, should be included your characters name, age, appearance, job, personality, and magical power. Don?t go over board with your character's power. While they can be a great magician, they can only have one field of specialty. Be specific and unique. Originality helps in my selection process. In the sign up, I?d prefer if you use a situation similar to what happened with Mugen. They are approached by an agent of the mysterious master and use their power to escape capture. This way, my character has a logical reason for interacting with yours in the RPG if they are not an acquaintance of his. I want good writers to help me make this a great RPG, worthy of note. Help to create a gritty underworld of magic, unlikely heroes, and dark villains. I?ve left a lot open for others to be creative, so please feel free to. Just be fair and original. And please, enjoy. [b]PS[/b]- To all you graphic artists out there, this RP could use a little flavor. If possible, any donated banners or graphics would be very appreciated. Thank you.[/color][/size] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Blayze Posted January 28, 2007 Share Posted January 28, 2007 [font=Lucida Sans Unicode][b]"Ten of diamonds," [/b]said the young man sat on the street corner, a small card table placed in front of his seat, a number of cards spread out upon it. The man standing opposite him threw the card in his hand down onto the table, cursing. It fluttered down and landed face up, ten small diamonds peering up at the Magician from the ragged card. A flicker of a smile flashed across his face, barely visible from underneath the thick hood he wore. The contestant threw down his ten-dollar bill and walked away, his face red with anger. The Magician smiled, looked at his watch and decided that it was time to pack up. The cards were nothing to do with the power that lay inside him, of course. That was a simple trick, an illusion. His real power lay hidden from view, not used until he was sure it was time. [b]"Good haul today," [/b]said a gravelly voice from the shadows, as the Magician pocketed the wad of bills that he had collected from unassuming saps in the day, [b]"You're pretty good." "It's in my nature," [/b]replied the Magician, [b]"I'm a trickster, nothin' more, nothin' less." [/b]He wrapped his black cloak around him tighter, picking the card table up and tucking it under his arm. [b]"Don't lie to me," [/b]said the figure, [b]"I know that you are so much more than a trickster, Mr LeCrosse. So, so much more." "How do you know my name?" [/b]asked LeCrosse, turning around to face the figure, shadowed as he was, [b]"Who the hell are you?" "Me?" [/b]asked the figure, stepping backwards into the alley, [b]"I'm unimportant. But you, Mr LeCrosse, you are incredibly important. And my Master wishes to meet you." "I ain't goin' with you. I don't care if your Master wants to meet me, I don't wanna meet him." "That's a real shame, Mr LeCrosse," [/b]said the man, stepping into the pale moonlight, [b]"Because now I have to bring you in." [/b]His shock of red hair flopped down over his face, and his body, while slim and nimble-looking, seemed as though it contained reasonable strength. The dark coat he wore flapped in the cool evening breeze. [b]"How are you goin' to do that?" [/b]asked LeCrosse, as the man's fist suddenly flew into his face, sneding him spinning to the floor. [b][i]How did he do that? [/i][/b]thought LeCrosse, [i][b]No way is he that fast! [/b][/i]His train of thought was stopped by a swift kick to the abdomen that he did not see coming. He looked around, trying to find his attacker, but he was nowhere to be found. LeCrosse got to his feet, and saw the man appear from the shadows that were cast on the wall, and his fist flew into LeCrosse's face again. But LeCrosse kept his balance this time. [b][i]I see, [/i][/b]thought LeCrosse, [b][i]A teleporter. [/i][/b]The man appeared from the shadows again, but LeCrosse swung the card table and struck the man in the face, knocking him to the floor, where LeCrosse pressed his foot against the man's throat. [b]"No-one gets away with hittin' LeCrosse like that, buddy," [/b]said the Magician, [b]"Not twice, anyhow." [/b]The man simply smiled, and vanished from underneath LeCrosse's boot, his very being disintegrating into dark wisps of shadow. LeCrosse threw his cloak to the floor, and flexed his muscles, ready for the next attack. His muscular form was covered with a long-sleeved blue t-shirt, which LeCrosse had covered with a black t-shirt with the inscription: "Quadrophenia - The Who," writted across the chest, and a pair of dark green combat trousers ending in a pair of black boots. His dark brown hair fell lightly across his forehead, not in the heavy fringe that his opponent had, and his electric-blue eyes sparkled with youthful energy. The man appeared again, this time right above LeCrosse's head, ready to land a kick on his jaw. LeCrosse leapt into the air, higher than any man normally could, grabbing his opponent's leg and slamming him to the floor. As the man got to his feet, LeCrosse stayed in the air, hovering a few feet above the ground. [b]"See, this is why you don't mess with LeCrosse," [/b]said the cardsharp, raising his hand, and watching with a sly smile as a heavy wooden crate from the alley rose into the air a few feet away from him, seemingly of its own accord. With a grimace, he hurled the crate at his opponent, who vanished into thin air once more, letting the crate shatter into pieces against the concrete. The man appeared again, this time in a crouched position on the wall next to where LeCrosse was hovering, and leapt at him. LeCrosse was hurled into the opposite wall of the alley, and the man vanished again. LeCrosse fell to the floor, but scrambled quickly to his feet. He stood still and closed his eyes, feeling almost as if the world was slowing down around him, and felt where the man was going to appear next, a spot about half a metre away from where LeCrosse himself was standing, and LeCrosse grabbed a shard of the crate from earlier, and waited, waiting until the man appeared once more, and swinging the plank into his face, knocking him to the floor, his head cracking against the wall of the alley, knocking him unconscious. LeCrosse picked up his cloak and spun it back on, then walked swiftly down the alley towards his home... --- That was slightly longer than I was expecting it to be, but I hope its ok with you, Boss. EDIT: By the way, LeCrosse's power is telekinesis, the whole "time slowing thing" was just a meditational thing he does occasionally - he can't actually slow time. [/font] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TheResplendent Posted January 28, 2007 Share Posted January 28, 2007 [FONT=Tahoma][color=darkslategray]Outside, the rain poured on the seemingly destitute streets of the city at an ultimatley inactive time of six AM. Inside, a young man of roughly 24 years of age flips the dusty pages of an old book containing philosophical anecdotes from the time of ancient greece. He adjusts the thin square-framed glasses resting on his nose and brushes the front of his silvery hair away from his eyebrows. The dim lights in the old basement shop shone enough light to appreciate the coziness of the lay out. For one to actually be able to read any of the many historical and mythological books on the shop's shelves however, candles were designated to several old wooden tables. Xavier on the other hand, simply stood infront of his desk and glanced over the words between wall candles. His eyesight was more then ample to see the words in any book without the need for extra light. The creaking of the stairs from the corner was the next sound to be heard, as a much older man of about 60 descended from them. The man, clearly the owner of the small speciality shop looked on at Xavier; taking notice to the book he was reading. [b]"Pre-Socratic, eh?"[/b] the old man said, resting against his cane. [b]"Yes. It seems to much simpler yet at the same time harnesses what the true origins of philosophy should be."[/b] Xavier answered as he turned another page. [b]"Yes, well...not everything that makes the most sense must be so complicated to figure out. But philosophy, no matter how you look at it...will never offer concrete answers to it's own questions. We are far too challenging in our own rationalities and far too unconvinced in the purpose of so much to just accept what may seem logical."[/b] the old man replied, as he fiddled with a keyring he drew from his pocket. [b]"The fallacy of free-will in the eyes of those who dare to inquire, I suppose."[/b] Xavier said in a low tone as he adjusted his glasses again. The old man singled out one key finally but was drawn to the young boy's last action. [b]"Xavier...why in the world are you wearing those?"[/b] [b]"These?"[/b] he said, taking the glasses down from his face. [b]"I suppose I simply like the look. It isn't as if the lenses are of any perscription."[/b] The old man raised an eyebrow and just went back to unlocking an old oval shaped door next to the largest bookcase in the basement. Xavier turned his head back to his book and finished off the chapter on Parmenides. From behind the young man however, a shadow lurked unbeknownst to him as he gently closed the book in the palm of his left hand. [b]"Parmenides...a magician they say. How absurd."[/b] A voice interjected at that point, before Xavier could even turn around. [b]"Oh, and why is that? Don't tell me you...don't believe that magicians exist?"[/b] came the voice of a man with a darkened complexion in addition to his shadowy surroundings. Xavier turned abruptly, having not heard the man enter. [b]"Oh, good morning sir. I did not hear you enter."[/b] Xavier said, slightly startled. [b]"No need for the clerk act my boy, but if you insist on helping me...then perhaps you could accompany me."[/b] the man said. Xavier narrowed his eyes, unsure of what the man wanted or why he felt such a tense vibe from him. He tried to get a lock on the man's face but it seemed impossible. The light might have been to blame but Xavier knew if he couldn't see something clearly with his own eyes then something was strange. [b]"My apologies sir, I don't know what you mean. If you do not intend on searching for anything here however I must ask you to leave."[/b] [b]"Are you that unaware of what manner of person I am, or is that all just an act you hide behind? You are far too intellegent to hide such knowledge i'm afraid, and in this case it gives you away quite easily. Now, come with me Xavier and meet with my master."[/b] [b][i]'Master...? The magical power I sense from this one indicated enough of his status or so I thought, but it appears he serves another.'[/b][/i] Xavier thought as he placed the book down on the table and pressed the pointer and thumb fingers of his right hand to his chin. His pale blue eyes were not masked by the glasses at this time, as they sat softly unfolded on the same table. [b]"I'm afraid I would be of no use to you or your master. I am but a shop clerk."[/b] [b]"Oh but you are wrong, boy. Your extraordinary eyesight is but the tip of the iceberg is it not? You can do many things involving the human eye."[/b] the man persisted as he lightened his stance. It was then, the old shop owner emerged from the door to see the shadowy man confronting Xavier. [b]"Yo...you. Who are you? Xavier, is this man causing trouble?"[/b] he asked as he steadied his cane, taking as stiff a stance as he could. [b]"Stay out of this old man, I'm afraid it's not of your concern"[/b] the dark magician said in an increasingly vicious tone as he swung for him. The sound of his hand crashing through an old suit of armor was all he heard and felt however. The statue crumbles by his feet as the old man was no longer infront of him. He spun to look back to Xavier but only saw a long tunnel with torches lined up on it's walls. The tunnel seemed to go on forever like the dungeon of an old castle. [b]"Such a bothersome boy, you will come with me one way or another!"[/b] Meanwhile, Xavier helped the old shop owner out the door of the shop from the upstairs. He handed him an umbrella and told him to take the closest cab home and stay there. The old man resisted at first but was ultimatley convinced by the young magician. The old man was out of sight before Xavier became surrounded by shadows once again, along with the crashing sound of the window of the shop breaking outwardly as the darkened man jumped through it. [b]"That was quite a nasty trick back there. Your a quick thinker indeed, but there is no way out of this one, boy."[/b] Xavier focused his eyes on the man and brushed the wet bangs away from his peripheral vision. [b]"You are right, I can do many things to the human eye. But as well informed as you seem to be, you do not know everything about me."[/b] The dark magician advanced forward but suddenly stopped a few seconds after Xavier's words. He turned his head from side to side and lifted his hands up to his throat. Choking noises could be heard coming from the man as he tried to back away, but the increasingly dense atmosphere around him seemed to follow. The man scowled as he made an arm movement before dispersing his presence. From behind the shadow that encased their position rushed forward and engulfed Xavier, ramming him up against the wall of the store opposite the shop he worked in. The shadows dispersed along with the man shortly after, as the young magician rested on his left knee holding his right shoulder with his left hand. [b]"I got him to back off...but just barely. That was the extent of my air control though. Had he stuck around longer he would have simply suffered from consistent coughing."[/b] Xavier stood up and walked back into the shop. He patched up the window with a piece of wood and closed everything else down. He left and locked the front door and began walking to his house first for a change of clothing. [/color] [center]* * * * *[/center] OOC: Hope it isn't too long and meets your standards, Boss. The concept is interesting and hope it gets off to a good start. Oh, and in case Xavier's powers need elaboration (though I hate to do so since I like the way i played the scenario out), his abilities are that of Illusions. But though everything seen within his illusions seem and feel real and are tangible, they are ultimatley fake and will break very easily if they are material items or walls, etc. The air density control toward the end is a part of the illusion within the area of effect of the person, the air appears thinner or more moist or colder in accordance to the ambiances he can create in order to make the illusion seem more complete in it's atmosphere, though it is more deception as the person cannot actually die from the extent of his control of that aspect of the illusion.[/FONT] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kitty Posted January 28, 2007 Share Posted January 28, 2007 [size=1][indent][i]"Where the hell is it?"[/i] A young girl tip-toed about the study of a large home, quietly searching through all the desk drawers and file cabinets she could find. But after rummaging through every visible nook and cranny, she was still unsatisfied. She growled in frustration, slumping down on the floor to regain her composure. [i]"It has to be in here somewhere... It [b]has[/b] to be,"[/i] she thought anxiously. Suddenly she heard the creak of a door, and felt all the color drain from her already pale skin. She turned and saw the face of a man peering into the study from the dimly lit hallway on the other side of the door. The moment the intruder recognized her, he slammed the door open and opened his mouth to shout, but before anything but a breath could escape his lips, he was motionless. Her eyes widened, her arm still outstretched before her, as she suddenly remembered what she could do. She cursed herself, angry beyond words that she had broken her promise to herself and her sister. But at the same time, she felt a happiness and relief. She sat quietly for a moment, her arm returning to her side, before she rolled her eyes and pushed herself back onto her feet. She walked up to the frozen man and reached a hand into his robe's chest pocket. Sure enough, she had found what she was looking for. [b]"No sweat."[/b] She quickly cleaned up the papers and books that she had thrown on the floor before walking back up towards the eerily still man stuck in the doorway. She patted his cheek with her hand, herself wearing an expression of malicious content. [b]"Nice seeing you again, Uncle."[/b] With that, she grabbed her coat, which she had thrown on the floor carelessly when she had first arrived, and left the room. When she was back on the street, she looked back up towards the extravagant house and concentrated for a moment. She heard the yell of her uncle before he cut himself off, realizing she was no longer there. She knew he would pass it off as stress and return to bed, without so much as another thought for his niece. [center]---[/center] Closer to her own home, the girl's giggle broke the silence hanging in the cold night air. Wrapped in her black overcoat, she pulled one of her hands out of her pockets, a small bag with a strange emblem on it resting in her palm. She tossed it up and caught it before letting out another giggle. Her grin almost reached from one ear to the other as she beamed proudly at the bag in her hand. [b]"That wasn't so hard,"[/b] she told herself, [b]"I should start doing that more often."[/b] [b]"Come now, Ms. Landry. Petty larceny is no career for a growing girl."[/b] She stopped in her tracks before turning around slowly. Though she saw no source of the voice, she knew that whoever had spoken was still there. [b]"First of all, the name is [i]Nikki[/i]. And second, I'm sixteen and done growing, thank you very much,"[/b] she spat in rebuttal. [b]"It's not unusual for kids to think they are fully mature when they reach your age, let alone the gifted ones. But rest assured, you aren't as ready to take on the entire world as you may believe. However, I know someone who can help you to... hone your particular ability."[/b] [b]"Oh? Now who would that be?"[/b] Despite the calmness in her voice, she had returned the small bag to her pocket, and held it tightly within her trembling fist. [b]"My master. He'll show you how to use your gift in a much more useful way than--"[/b] the voice continued, but was halted mid-sentence. Nikki opened one of her emerald green eyes, noticing the sudden silence. A smile returned to her face, as the same feeling of relief and joy flooded through her. She examined the street, but could not find the source of the voice. [b]"Dammit,"[/b] she swore. Suddenly, she felt a hand running through her long, brown hair. Instinctively, she spun around and punched at the person behind her, but her fist was caught by an invisible force. She looked up and also noticed that whoever had put their was nowhere to be seen. The surprise faded quickly, and she let out a laugh. [b]"So, I can learn to be invisible, too? Oh wait! I can do that!"[/b] Grabbing the invisible arm that held her wrist, Nikki focused for a moment before the person was revealed to be a rather tall figure dawned in a black cloak with its hood up to hide their face. From the voice she had heard, she had figured it was a man, and the frozen figure now in front of her seemed like a perfect match. With the cloaked man now immobile and unaware, she easily pulled her wrist from his gloved grip. [b]"Just watch me disappear,"[/b] she grinned. She continued down the sidewalk, not even glancing back at the figure still frozen in the middle of the small road. As she walked, she pulled out the embroidered bag and opened it to reveal a small necklace with the same emblem on the golden coin at the center. Placing it around her neck, she let out a sigh before whispering, [b]"Sorry, Sis. Looks like I have to break my promise."[/b][/indent] --- This looks awesome! x3 I'm up for making any graphics you may need. Just give me the dimensions you'd prefer. ^_^ And just to clarify, Nikki's ability is freezing people in time. It's basically like pressing their 'pause' button, so their entire system is halted. They can't hear, speak, see, think, breathe or anything, but it doesn't hurt them. Whenever she wills it, they can be 'unfrozen'. But to balance it out, she can only freeze a maximum of ten people at a time, so if she has left anyone frozen, they become unfrozen the next time she uses her power on someone. [b]edit ::[/b] [url=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v332/PicKitty/TheMagicianspromosplash.png][i]Here's[/i][/url] a splash I just did. The stock image I used is (c) [url=stonethief.deviantart.com][i]Stonethief[/i][/url]@devART. Currently working on a banner usable in a signature. :3[/size] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Disenchanted Posted January 28, 2007 Share Posted January 28, 2007 [SIZE=1] A young woman of 22 sat typing delicately on a key board; her light brown eyes scanned the screen in front of her. With a few final taps a smile crept across her cherry lips. The young woman closed the lid of the black lap top computer and walked back though the shop. She smiled, her eyes gleaming with pride at another job well done. Her sandy blond hair rested just below her shoulders, swaying slightly as she stepped. [B]?There you go Mr Sheppard. Your computer is in perfect working order. If it happens to give you any more trouble, don?t hesitate to come and see us again.? [/B] The woman smiled as she handed the computer back to its owner. [B]?Oh, thanks very much Ivy? [/B] The man smiled back, it was obvious to most that he only came to the small computer shop to see her. He reluctantly took the machine from the counter top, whishing she would have spent just that little while longer fixing it. [B]?See you around then.? [/B] The man said as he turned to walk away. [B]?Goodbye John.? [/B] Ivy smiled to herself as she went about rearranging the counter top, after John had gone. He would receive a nice surprise when he lifted the lid, her phone number. Ivy went about the small shop fixing displays and restocking shelves. When the store clock hit five am she was out of the shop as quick as a lightening bolt. Ivy adjusted the hood of her brown coat, it was raining quite heavily and the air was freezing. She hated rain; Ivy in fact hated any kind of water. She clutched her lap top underneath her arm like a mother would a child. She could be very protective of things. It would take her more than fifteen minutes to get to her apartment. He sighed heavily as she nimbly dodged puddles. Ivy?s jeans were beginning to soak through, her tight green tee shirt and brown leather jacket were fine though. She cringed as her wet socks and Green sneakers squelched as she walked. [B]?Lovely evening, wouldn?t you say Miss Pollux?? [/B] A dark voice questioned seemingly from everywhere at once. Ivy couldn?t tell wether the voice belonged to a male or female, it had a strangle quality sounding like it held characteristics of both sexes. Ivy turned on her heal but there was no one behind her. Sighing she turned around again to be faced with a dark hooded character. She jumped back, startled at the sudden appearance. [B]?How do you know my name?? [/B] Ivy spoke half in a demanding tone, half inquisitive. The figure began to slowly walk around her, as if appraising her. [B]?I know many things, but if you wish for your questions to be answered? I suggest you come with me to see my master.? [/B] Ivy raised an eye brow. [B]?Why would I do that??[/B] She questioned, clutching her lap top a little more tightly. [B]?Why my dear child, because of your gift??[/B] Ivy shook her head and started to walk past the figure. [B]?I have no idea what you are talking about.? [/B] [B]?Don?t play dumb with me girl!? [/B] The figure yelled at her. Ivy jumped, monetarily startled and found her computer slipping from her clutches. It hit the pavement with a loud plastic crack. Ivy looked up at the figure angrily, her fists clenched. She could have sworn it was smiling at her. [B]?You will come with me to see my master.? [/B] It hissed. Shadows seemed to teem from it, reaching out to her. Anger and fear welled in the pit of Ivy?s stomach, as she opened her hands small bolts of electricity crackled between her fingers. Not noticed by either person Ivy?s lap top began to float in mid air and move slowly towards her. [B]?I will do no such thing!? [/B] Electricity began to form in her hair; it popped as it formed between strands and connected with her clothing. With every passing moment the figures shadows grew closer and stronger. Ivy clapped her hands together in defence, as she did so a bolt of lightening passed from her into the mass of shadow. A loud [I]crack-boom[/I] resounded from the shadow a few seconds after the bolt hit. The air and objects around her became electrified as she let loose another bolt more powerful than the last. Another [I]crack-boom[/I] was heard a few seconds later. Ivy scooped up her floating lap top, not waiting to see if the figure was still there, and ran as fast as she was able. Several streets later she stopped to catch her breath, small bolts still crackling between her finger tips. [CENTER]- - - - -[/CENTER] Just to explain Ivy?s powers a little more [I know it?s sorta traditional in nature ><]. Ivy does not create the electricity from nothing, it comes from within herself. Everyone?s body has a small electric current; Ivy can manipulate her own and built it until it is many times more powerful. Once it is built up enough it can be released though her hands. Excess current is discharged through her hair. Her body can act as an electromagnet allowing her to make objects float [hence the lap top] when she is distressed or due to concentration. Her power only affects metal objects or objects with a considerable amount of metal in them. [/SIZE] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Zen Posted January 29, 2007 Author Share Posted January 29, 2007 [color=darkred][size=1] I'm very pleased with the sign ups thus far. Special thanks to Kitty for the awesome graphic. I can't wait to see the banner work. If further sign ups are as good as these, then I'm going to have a big job ahead of me if selection is needed, haha. Good work everyone, and thank you again.[/color][/size] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Doublehex Posted January 29, 2007 Share Posted January 29, 2007 Christopher snickered at the [URL="http://img407.imageshack.us/img407/8120/flowerboybysolkeera7482wx6.jpg"]photo[/URL] of his older brother, Matthew. It was taken way back when, when the Camien family had moved to Hawaii due to their father?s job as an ever moving reporter. Matt had taken interest in a girl there, and she agreed to go on a date with him if he helped her with a photography class assignment. Apparently, the teacher wanted the students to find a fellow teenager to appear in a pose that you probably wouldn?t see them in. For girls, it probably meant being in a more suggestive pose than they would like. As for boys, it usually meant to imply that they were homosexual, wherever they truly were or not. Matt was thankful in the end the photo had spread only to his family and the teacher. Unfortunately, it was more than enough to humiliate him for life, no small thanks to his brother. Matt sighed. ?That photo again?? The echo of a train in the subway roared into their ears as the two descended the stairs. ?I just can?t get enough of it, Mister Matt.? ?Shut up?, he ordered irritably. The train ride home was the same hundreds of others they had taken. Matt would dig into his pockets, gather up the four dollars worth of dirt to make enough change for both of them using alchemy, and they would sit in the train for half an hour until they reached home. Matt would bring out his headphones, probably to listen to some classical, anime or videogame music, while his brother would just sleep. And when he was done sleeping, he would sleep some more. After the train ride, Chris was unusually chirpy. Matt ignored him, paying a newsboy using more alchemy forged changed. [CENTER][CENTER][B]Unusual Deaths! Stage show magicians killed with a black cut. Skull symbol found carved into chest. Officers baffled.[/B][/CENTER] [/CENTER] Matt arched his eyebrow as he looked at the article. He read more and more of it, fully absorbed into it, amazingly ignoring his brother?s ramblings. He would somehow walk at the same pace and direction as if he wasn?t occupied: he had an unusually keen sense of direction. They had passed an alleyway when Matt was done. ?Chris, look at this.? He practically threw the paper into his brother?s gut. Chris scanned the article. ?Okay, weird murders. So what?? ?Look at the victim?s unusual backgrounds.? [CENTER][CENTER][I]Chief Parkerson, said ?The victims have been known to be very good at the art of a stage magician. In fact, you could say they were mostly all prodigies. It?s a very interesting case.?[/I][/CENTER] [/CENTER] Chris fully understood now. ?They?re after people like you.? Matt nodded. They passed by another alleyway, this one holding a robed figure. The figure followed behind. Matt turned around, biting his lip, knowing all too well who this man was. ?You know what I am seeking, Matthew Camien.? ?Not really, but you can tell me what you need.? ?The Master wishes to see you.? Now, Matt didn?t have any PhD on the Psychology of Darkly Robed Figures and their Even more Darkly Dressed Masters, but he had a sure feeling that this Master was not interested in the goodwill of humanity. It was just a hunch, though. But it was a pretty good hunch. ?Chris, the sack.? His brother complied, giving him a bag full of materials. Matt brought out a shaft of wood and some rusted metal. Pressing the two together, the alchemic circle on his glove merged them into a short staff. ?I see that you do not wish to comply, Mister Camien. Then we will have to enlist you by force.? Matt didn?t have time to ask what the man meant by ?we? (after all, he was the only robed figure there). The man rushed onto Matt, giving him little time to do anything but block the attacks. This man was clearly skilled in martial arts: with each punch, Matt had to push forward to keep himself from falling to the ground. Matt, on the other hand, had no sort of training at all. A few times he had forged a weapon, mostly for the fun of it. He didn?t know how to actually use the weapon. The struggle continued, and all Chris could do was watch. The struggle continued for a few minutes until Matt saw a chance to escape. The man prepared to slam his palm into Matt?s shoulder, but seeing the chance, he sliced his spear into the hand. The man, as expected, screamed in pain. Matt ordered his brother to run. The two dashed around the corner, not daring to look back. Chris tried to remind him about his bag, which they left behind. Matt didn?t say anything. He just kept on running. They didn?t stop until they got home. [INDENT]Pretty much, Matt's alchemy works by the merging of materials together, and forcing of contact with an alchemy circle, thus why he has a glove with a circle drawn on it. The precise amount of material is needed for the merging to succeed - too much or too few and it will end in a fluke. It is more a thing of science than it is a form of magic.[/INDENT] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wullf_Maximas Posted January 29, 2007 Share Posted January 29, 2007 It was getting cold. Breezing was becoming an attraction for young children. As puffs of warm air came out of there mouths and expanded into the air others would laugh. It was always soothing to watch children become so amazed by small things. While there parents worried over bills, jobs, and relationships they watched clouds and ants marching one by one. ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]Children are so much simpler than grown ups. If it were up to children we would never have to hide are gifts[/COLOR].? ?You are a grown up Ronyo. Although you do hold a child?s since of wonder, but that in itself is because of your gifts.? ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]That may be Kal but still things are so clear cut as a child. Were they not for you as a pup[/COLOR]?? ?My days were spent with my brothers and sisters until I was old enough to venture out in the world. My world, however, was not filled with streets and buildings but trees and rivers.? ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]Stop, your making me jealous again Kal. I wish I could live there instead of here, but my gifts are best served here or so you keep telling me[/COLOR].? ?And I will continue to tell you because I?m always right and you?..wait?.? ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]What is it Kal[/COLOR]?? Kal didn?t speak or move he stayed perfectly still. Only his nose moved up and down sniffing the air. Then his ears went up straight and his tail went down. A low growl came from Ronyo?s best friend and that was never a good thing. Ronyo was in a ready stance, legs spread shoulders width and arms out. His long brown coat moved a bit from a gust of wind as did his long red scarf. Ronyo watched and shifted his weight slightly when he felt the wind pull. Kal turned and went low to the soft grassy ground and his neck hair stood straight. Ronyo turned to see a man in a long black coat of shadows. ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]Name yourself and your business[/COLOR].? Ronyo demanded ?I seek no confrontation with you or your wolf. I am simply the messenger here to invite you to an audience with my master. He wishes to talk with you.? Ronyo looked down at Kal who was still growling and that?s all he needed to see, ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]No thanks but I?ll pass. Tell your ?[I]Master[/I]? I will be unable to make it[/COLOR].? ?You will come druid, willingly or unwillingly.? The man?s hands came up and pure darkness flowed out of them. They came closer and closer until they slammed into the area Ronyo had been standing. Now he was in the air mumbling to him self a spell he hopped would do the trick. Upon touching to the earth softly Ronyo?s hand hit the ground palms out and energy flowed out of him. The man cloaked in darkness watched with a spell on his tongue ready to counter. His spell was lost when vines shot out from below him and entangled his arms, legs, and neck. Ronyo stood up and threw his coat back ready to move again. His green pants and matching shirt could be seen then. Along with his brown leather vest and brown combat boots. Ronyo brushed his long white hair out of his face and tightened his pony tail. Then the man began to laugh and as he did this he began to cast. The words that left his lips were dark and caked with evil. The vines holding the man seemed to lose all life and dry up. The dark figure broke free and charged Ronyo with fist full of dark energy. ?You?ll have to do better than that tree huger!? Half way to Ronyo the man was slammed hard in the side by a black mass. The man hit the ground and stood up fast. He leapt at Kal slapping the wolf aside and turning his attention back to Ronyo. ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]No one hurts my friends you rat bastard[/COLOR],? Ronyo?s tone was cold and serious far from his child wondering self from only a few minutes ago. The druid brushed up his sleeves to display two brown leather gauntlets with what looked like fangs from a large wolf. Ronyo crossed his arms and grabbed one in each hand with the point curving into his hand and down. As he pulled them away the right one seemed to flame while the left one seemed to look like ice. By the time Ronyo had his arms to his side the fangs had sprouted curved blades. ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]Now come taste [B]my[/B] fangs[/COLOR].? The dare angered the dark man who charged Ronyo with his dark burning fists. Ronyo knew he had only one shot. For he may have been skilled with his blades but that skill had its limits. The man of shadows swung his right fist full of darkness as he came to bare on Ronyo. The druid swung out to his left and brought both blades across the man?s midsection. Flames and cold mist spread over the wounds, but as the man stood he seemed slightly unfazed. The wounds turned dark and seemed to blend in to him once again. However he didn?t speak but held the area Ronyo had cut. ?You will pay druid.? And with that the man slipped back into the shadows. Kal was now next to Ronyo a little sore but no worst for wear. The children had run from the park long ago, and would tell what they saw but still be unbelievable. ?What was that?? Kal asked ?[COLOR=DarkOliveGreen]I?m not sure, but I?m sure will find out[/COLOR].? -------------------------------------------------------- Hope that fits the needs. Ronyo's druidic powers work with the wind, water, trees, and earth. His swords are the only relation he has with fire and ice, but could learn to do something with those elements if he tried. Kal travels everywhere with Ronyo, and his story will come later. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sakura Posted January 29, 2007 Share Posted January 29, 2007 [SIZE=1][COLOR=Navy]Cameron covered her mouth with her hand, trying to calm her harsh breathing. She took deep breaths through her nose, calming her body as she tried to listen to all the sounds around her but the noise was disguised by the sound of raindrops pounding on the pavement. She sniffled quietly, wiping the water from her amethyst eyes and pushing the wet bangs of her hazelnut hair back away from her face. Her ratty clothes were drenched and she was chilled to the bone but she was on the run. Looking down at her sorry form she looked like nothing more than a street rat that could be frequently seen roaming New York, wearing dirty, torn articles of clothing that looked like they hadn?t been washed; a faded worn t-shirt with holes all over it, and jeans with dirt marks and holes riddled in it. Concentrating silently her hearing became stronger and more focused. For anyone that saw her at that moment they would stare, as she now had furry wolf-like ears that sat atop her head, twitching and moving, trying to pick up sounds around her. When satisfied that no one was nearby in this torrential rain, her ears slid back down her head, looking normal as human ears would be. She got up from her crouched position, breathing steadily as she took off out of the alley. She enjoyed the rush of running, her shoes slapping the pavement with each step. And she enjoyed the thrill of pretending to be something she wasn?t? That?s right. She wasn?t really a street urchin, the type of people that her parents looked down upon. She was in fact Cameron Hille the 17 year old daughter of Carter Hille, the owner of a large, successful technology empire. She was making her way home now after a day of hanging out with her friends that genuinely lived on the streets. Her friends of course didn?t know that she was from an upper class family, with a heap of money. To them she was just ?Cammy?, the orphan thrown out onto the streets as a child who?d learnt the ways of life the hard way. People would ask why she wanted to do such a thing, pretending that she was homeless and needed to resort to thievery and deception. It was incredibly fun and she really enjoyed it. Running amuck on the streets with her friends, helping them to trick and steal from others and stores. She was well known around the place as the daughter of a rich man, but when she was on the streets her clothes looked filthy, unlike the stylish things she wore as Cameron. And she?d usually rub dirt onto her face and into her hair so no one would recognize her. Another reason she did it was because her parents always wanted her to be the sophisticated rose and to not hang around with those people on the streets, she did it just to spite them, even though they were unaware of her actions. Today had been a pretty unsuccessful day since it had started raining in the early afternoon, causing everyone to run for shelter, including her friends, taking off in search of somewhere warm to wait out the storm. Knowing there would be no use staying around any longer she set off for home, shivering slightly as she felt the effects of staying out in the rain. After she was sure she wasn?t being followed she slowed her pace to a casual walk, shoving her dirty hands into her worn pair of jeans, black from grime and torn in many places. Cameron had to raise an eyebrow as she saw a man wearing a long hooded black rain coat standing statue still on the pavement, looking in her direction. She became wary of him and moved to walk around him. Just as she was beside him, his arm snapped out, grabbing her wrist tightly. Her eyes flashed and she glared at him, though she was unable to see anything since he was covered in the shadow of his hood. She tested his strength by jerking her hand, trying to pull away. His grip only tightened more, squeezing the flesh tightly. [b]?What do you want??[/b] she asked in the end. [b]?My master wishes to meet with you.?[/b] was all he said. Cam watched him, his grip was unrelenting, and it looked like he wouldn?t be letting her go if she didn?t give him an answer. [b]?What for? I?m nothing special, just a street rat.?[/b] [b]?Don?t lie. My master is aware of your talent and wishes to put it to use.?[/b] [b]?I?m not going to see any master of yours, now let me go!?[/b] she yelled, turning and lashing at him with her right leg. He turned too and caught the limb, squeezing it painfully. [b]?You [i]will[/i] come with my one way or another.?[/b] [b]?We?ll see about that.?[/b] she growled lowly. Cammy took a deep breath, putting a form in mind. Slowly the hooded man released her, manipulating the shadows to form a shield around himself. Cameron wasn?t paying attention to what he was doing however, just falling to all fours as she underwent her transformation. The sickening grinding sound of shifting bones could be heard as her skin stretched to accommodate the change. Her clothes disappeared and her body was covered in navy blue scales. She arched her back as wings pierced her back. They were thick and leathery, filled with the lightweight bones of most flying creatures. Her spinal cord extended, creating a thick, powerful tail that swished with agitation. The man just stared at her new form as it became complete with the change of facial structure and appearance. Now with slitted cat-like eyes and a long muzzle. Standing in human Cameron?s place was now a beautiful navy blue dragon. Who had an angry glint in her eye. She reared her head back, thrusting it forward as a stream of flames emerged from her mouth, surrounding the man. He could feel the heat but wasn?t injured as he had put up a shield. Cameron shifted back to human as the man fought off the flames and the heat. She didn?t glance back as she ran down the street, sprinting the distance home. When she reached her house she was feeling sick and tired, and all she wanted was a hot shower, some food, and bed. Cam looked at her extravagant looking abode, rolling her eyes at her parents? taste in houses. It was a mansion even though her family only consisted of her and both her parents. But the servants of the house also lived there so it had to be large enough to accommodate them too. She walked up the steps and pulled a key from a grimy pocket, opening the door silently and slipping into the large entrance. Used to doing this many times she scuttled along the marble floors and silently glided up the staircase, eyes constantly searching for her parents that could be home, but probably weren?t. Cameron made her way to her bedroom and locked the door. Pulling off the clothes that were making her sick, she wrung them out and hung them to dry in her en suite. Her muscles relaxed under the hot water of the shower, just enjoying the time to herself and washing the dirt from her hair which flowed below her mid-back. Yes, this was a time for just her; not Cammy the street rat, and not Cameron Hille the sophisticated princess, this was one of the times where she didn?t have to pretend.[/COLOR] --- I hope that wasn?t too long or anything, Mike. To clear up, Cameron?s a shape shifter. She can change into any living thing; be it other people, animals, creatures, or even things from mythology such as the dragon. The power stops at inanimate objects. Let me know if that?s too overboard ^^;;[/SIZE] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kenso Posted January 29, 2007 Share Posted January 29, 2007 [size=1][font=Verdana]Tap, tap, tap....The rapid tapping on the keyboard echoed off the bare walls of the small room. The young man at the keyboard was tall, exceedingly so, or he would've been were he not hunched over a desk typing. He was quick, typing with only his right hand at speeds many people couldn't type at with one. It was a trick he'd taught himself to take advantage of his long fingers, features that tended to come with his height. He found it far easier than typing with two hands, which required him to have his fingers far too close together to be comfortable. He was capable of typing like that left-handed too, but his left hand was currently occupied spinning a pencil for no apparent reason, especially as there was no paper in sight. The young man's hair was wild, tossled, and short, two dark brown strands hanging down in front of his forehead, nearing his eyebrows. His face was covered in a thin layer of soft stubble, his facial hair for some reason never getting the rough feeling some men had to deal with. The stubble couldn't even be seen in the low-light of the room. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his eyebrows tight to his exceedingly dark brown eyes, effectively black due to the lighting conditions. His right hand moved to the mouse, switching from his word processor to his browser so he could look at the mathematics site he had up. As he read through the information on the site, his right hand danced through the air, as though he were doing the calculations on some invisible paper. The longer it went on, the faster he got, and the spinning pencil gained in speed also, his agitation getting the better of him. Then the young man noticed the pencil getting warm, no, getting hot, and tossed it up in the air, where it promptly split into a thousand pieces in a small explosion. [b]God-damn it! Not again!"[/b] He looked around for his pack of pencils and realized with annoyance that the one he'd just blown up had been his last one. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, slowly, trying to keep himself calm before he focused that power where he didn't want it. As he opened his eyes, he stood, slipping his bare feet into a pair of black sneakers and grabbing a black unzipped hoodie to wear over his bare chest. Standing, he was an impressive figure - nearly 6 and a half feet tall and 230 or so pounds of well-defined muscle. It wasn't natural, at least not on his body, but he worked hard for it. Not because he wanted the power that came with that kind of muscle, or even the looks women tended to give him, but simply because he'd rather look like that then like the scarecrow he used to look like. His metabolism was simply too high for him to put on weight without making an effort, but his figure without the effort rather scared him. He didn't like being able to count ribs. He locked the door behind him, walking quickly but quietly to the staircase that would lead him down to the first floor from the 10th. It was a long walk, but he had a thing against elevators. As he stepped out the door, a slight smile appeared on his face for the first time when he turned left, in the general direction of his favorite 24-hour coffee shop. The night waitress, Nia, was cute, rather tall for a girl (a plus), with long, straight red hair and a gorgeous figure, around his age (20, though he thought she might be closer to 23), and tended to flirt with him, a fact that he was not too oblivious to catch onto. He stayed in the coffee shop for nearly an hour before heading to the drug store across the street to pick up five packs of cheap wooden pencils, unsharpened. As he stepped out of the drug store, he heard a low voice from the corner. [color=Red] [b]You may just keep that company in business if you keep that up you know, Vincent Terenitio. [/b][color=Black]Vincent spun quickly to face this new person, and quickly grew annoyed. It was bad enough that the man knew who he was, and possibly what he could do, but to stand there with his hands tucked into the pockets of his raincoat, hood pulled up over his head to hide his features was just straight up aggravating. [b]What the hell is it to you? [color=Red] To me? Nothing, nothing really. However, to my Master, it is of much interest. [/color][/b][color=Red][i][color=Black]Master? Oh yeah, this is gonna be a problem...[/color][/i][color=Black] Vincent had a bad feeling about the other man from the start, but that feeling grew far worse at the mention of the word Master. [b]I'm afraid I'm just not the type to answer to any Master. [color=Red] And I'm afraid you really have no choice in the matter. [/color][/b][color=Red][color=Black]Vincent could hear the mumbled incantations as the man slowly approached him, watched as tendrils of shadow oozed from beneath the jacket, reaching for him like impossibly long arms. He panicked at first, and the tendrils grabbed his wrists, dragging his struggling body towards the other man with relative ease. The man...No, Vincent definitely did not want to get close to that man. So he fought harder, but something else fought with him now. His hoodie was growing hot now, and getting hotter by the second, and suddenly, Vincent knew what he had to do to get out of this. He kicked his feet up and away, sending his body sliding away from the hoodie, the zipper slicing his forehead as he got out, the sidewalk tearing into his back as he landed. The wounds were minor, and would not be there in an hour, but for now, they still hurt. As he hit the ground, he rolled across the sidewalk, tucking his body against the drug store. The explosion rocked the street, shattering glass for 100 feet, ripping the top off of a nearby fire hydrant. As he heard it, Vincent stood and ran, just ran, with everything he had, all the speed he could muster. He didn't know if he'd actually hurt the other man, but he knew he was free of him - at least for now. And somewhere in the back of his mind, an odd thought formed, considering the situation. [i]I hope Nia didn't spot me, or I'm going to have an awful lot of explaining to do. [/i][/color][/color][/color][/color][/color][/color][/font][/size][center][size=1][font=Verdana][color=Red][color=Black][color=Red][color=Black][color=Red][color=Black]---------- [/color][/color][/color][/color][/color][/color][/font][/size][left][size=1]Well, my turn for an explanation of powers (and an apology if that was too long)...Vincent is effectively a storehouse of constantly recharging energy, which fuels his body, making him capable of physical feats on par with or surpassing professional athletes, at least with proper training. It also mean he literally has no need for sleep. His main ability, however, is that he can focus this energy into other objects (like Gambit). Vincent, unlike the other submissions, while aware of what he can do, has no idea whatsoever on how to control, and it currently only manifests when he's angry, frustrated, or in similar extreme emotional states.[/size] [/left] [/center] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Allamorph Posted January 30, 2007 Share Posted January 30, 2007 [FONT=Arial][B]?So, what do you call a black man in the Air Force flying an F-15??[/B] Darius Sorél glanced around the door to his changing room to locate the speaker. From the way the others were facing, it was one or another of the trapeze boys?Darius could never get any of the quintuplets? names straight. Judging from the joke, though, it was probably Jude; he had a much quicker mind than the rest his family. Darius grinned and returned to his preparations. He?d heard this one before, and it never got old, simply because no one ever saw the joke coming. He waited for someone to bite while sliding into his gaudy pair of shimmering red and gold performance pants. That was pretty much his entire outfit. That, and the body oil he?d have to coat his chest, torso, and face in just before he went out in the ring. Nothing like a sexy, muscular, greased up man tossing fire around to get the ladies gasping. His hair never needed worrying about; it had a natural silky sheen and was extremely wild, so he just let it stand up while he was performing. He bent his tall frame and checked it once in the room?s mirror anyway, and was pleased once again at how strikingly his electric green eyes contrasted with his dark features and his unruly jet-black mop. Straightening, he turned to exit the room. [B]?Oh, Lord, this is messed up.?[/B] [B]?I dunno?missile fodder??[/B] Someone had finally gone for it. Darius stepped through the changing room?s door and leaned against the wall, and his rich voice grabbed everyone?s attention with the punch line: [B]?You call him a [U]pilot[/U], you racist bastards.?[/B] The performers dissolved into relieved laughter. Jude smirked at Darius. [B]?Works every time,?[/B] he said, clasping his hands behind his head in satisfaction. The fire-eater shook his head and moved off in search of a grease girl. -------------------- He stood in the floor entrance to the Nassau Coliseum, toying with his unlit torches. The clowns were just now piling back into their car (it made a VW Bug look like an SUV, he thought for probably the hundredth time) and he?d be on soon. He waited patiently for his cue from the announcer. A hand on his shoulder made him turn around; it was his assistant, Lindsay, with that same warm smile she gave him every performance. Darius smiled back, then twisted his legs around and put his hands on his hips. [B]?Do these panths make me look fat??[/B] he inquired in his best imitation of a fruitcake. Lindsay snorted in amusement and looked away. [B]?Be serious,?[/B] she ordered good-humoredly, grabbing a lighter and touching it to each of his torches? heads in turn. [B]?I would,?[/B] he retorted, [B]?but I had to spoil the mood somehow.?[/B] [B]?Of course you did.?[/B] She punched his arm playfully; Darius retreated in mock alarm. [B]?Thhtop it! You?ll methh up my shine,?[/B] he reproved, affecting an injured tone on top of his pansy accent. Darius abruptly dropped his charade as he heard the announcer begin his intro sequence. He needed to focus now. [B]?Burn ?em up out there,?[/B] Lindsay encouraged. Darius nodded. [B]?You know I will.?[/B] [I]?and now, prepare to be shocked and amazed by the Man who can bend Fire to his will; the man with asbestos in his lungs; the mortal God of the Flame, VULCAN!!!!![/I] Darius sprinted out to center ring on cue, holding his burning torches behind him. Sure, it was a cheesy introduction, but no one ever cared about that with a routine as entrancing as his. He never completely stopped moving, whether he was spinning lit batons while doing complex acrobatics or weaving his body around, swallowing fire and blowing it back out his mouth. Lindsay came out about halfway through his act, helping him with a few juggling timekillers and providing him with more torches to transfer the fire to and from. He let his power seep through occasionally, making certain flames a little larger than normal for effect, or pulling fire off one onto another, but most of his performance was made up of tricks any dedicated illusionist could have pulled off, given enough time. At last, the final stunt arrived. Darius lay his torches aside and was handed a bowl of burning oil, while the announcer boomed something about an offering for the god. The fire-eater held the bowl just under his face, so he could feel the heat rushing up at him; this was what made his act different from the others. He closed his eyes and began to inhale slowly. The flames rose up and swirled gently into his open mouth and nose. Darius continued to breathe in, drawing the fire into himself. It felt wonderfully stimulating inside, and his neck began to arch backwards in response to his pleasure. When his lungs were full, he cast the bowl sharply aside and leaned back, gathering himself for the release as the arena lights darkened. A brilliant gout of flame shot skyward from his mouth, reaching almost to the Coliseum?s cheap seats in height. The crowd gasped and shrieked in awe and astonishment, and a roar of applause erupted immediately. Darius bit off the flame and pulled a sweeping bow before sprinting to the exit. -------------------- The duffel bag containing Darius? supplies and outfit crashed unceremoniously onto his living room couch. No sense in putting them away tonight; he had another show tomorrow afternoon, so why bother? He glanced briefly into his kitchen?the stew in his crock pot looked almost ready?before heading down to the basement. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he made a small gesture and the fourteen candles in the room flared to life. The light revealed a concrete-lined room devoid of furnishings. All of the candles rested on the floor, haphazardly surrounding a large white circle painted on the ground, and the walls bore numerous scorch marks, a tribute to Darius? residency. Darius himself was dressed comfortably in black boots, blue jeans, and a t-shirt. He was fortunate to have found a house with a concrete basement. It made life so much easier not to have to worry about torching the place down while going through his kata, as he like to call his evening routine. He stepped into the circle?s center and calmed himself. After a few moments of stillness, he raised his hands, and fourteen tiny tongues of fire rose into the air, level with his white-shirted chest. He began moving fluidly through some jiu-jitsu forms, the flames following the paths of his hands. He hadn?t actually begun taking jiu-jitsu as a self-defense course; it was simply a matter of finding a safe outlet for his talents, outside of the menial circus job. Martial arts provided him with that bit of focus, and it let him relax besides. He had finished his forms and was just fooling around with his power when he heard a door hinge upstairs complain quietly. He took a fleeting look out of the basement?s tiny high window, and realized that it must have been past eleven in the evening already. The arcs of fire around him swiftly coalesced into a hovering ball in front of him; he took a portion of the sphere?s fire and held it in his mouth, returning the rest to the candles. A black-cloaked figure silently descended the basement stairs. Darius suddenly felt very nervous. He shifted the flame to his nasal passage. [B]?Can I help you??[/B] he asked curtly. [B]?I?m sorry, but I didn?t hear you come in.?[/B] [B]?My apologies, Mister Sorél,?[/B] replied the stranger unremorsefully. The deepness and tambre of the voice gave his gender away. [B]?I come bearing an invitation to see my master,?[/B] he added. [B]?Really,?[/B] answered Darius evenly. [B]?You?ll forgive me if I?m somewhat skeptical of an invitation borne by an uninvited intruder. Would you mind telling me who your ?master? is??[/B] [B]?I am unable to speak of that now.?[/B] [B]?I see. Then I am afraid I must decline your master?s request.?[/B] Darius moved towards the stairs, intending to show the dark man out. [B]?That does not matter,?[/B] the stranger spoke before Darius could reach him, a sinister edge creeping into his voice. [B]?I have been instructed to bring you, whether or not you wish to come.?[/B] Shadows began to churn around the man, spreading out over Darius? basement, and all of the floor candles abruptly extinguished. Darius blew the hidden flame out of his nose and, motioning swiftly, he speared the fire forward where he had last seen the intruder. The man had moved, so Darius seized the moment, flying up the stairs and out his front door. A shadow burst from his basement window and re-formed into the stranger. Darius gathered himself and held his fire steady in front of him, waiting. The dark man charged, and Darius threw up a sheet of fire, spinning safely away?an involuntary [I]Olé![/I] escaped him. He turned and thrust his hands forward, and another spear of fire shot out, this time striking the man?s shoulder. The stranger clutched at his wound and backed away. [B]?You will pay for your defiance, Mr. Sorél!?[/B] he threatened, before his body dissipated into the air. Darius dropped to one knee, completely shocked and a little terrified. [B]?What the hell was that??[/B] he asked of no one in particular. He looked at his lawn; portions of his grass were scorched, which he?d have a tough time explaining to any inquisitive neighbors. He was just thankful no one else had seen his little fight. The thought of his waiting stew cheered him up a little, though. He went back inside to microwave his now cold dinner. [center]-----------------------------------------[/center] Obligatory OOC power clarification: [indent]Darius is (obviously) pyrokinetic. He can control any type of flame at will. He can also start fires, but only if there is a lightable material around, like a match, dead leaves, old rags, etc.; he cannot just manifest fire at will without a source, though once done he can hold it as long as necessary.[/indent][/FONT] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Inuyasha Fandom Posted January 30, 2007 Share Posted January 30, 2007 A cold, ominous wind blew through the trees, as Winter practiced his moves. Named for his snow white skin and hair, he cherished his name, it was the most precious thing in the world to him. It was the only non material object his parents had left him when they died, so many years ago. Winter stopped, on feeling the wind, his mind coming back from his memories. The sword he was holding shattered into thousands of snowflakes, drifting to the ground. He began to feel a chill unlike anything he had ever felt before, encompasing him, giving the feeling something wanted to claim him. "Something's coming....I think it best to not be here when it arrives." Gathering his things, he slips on a black leather jacket and hurridly proceeds to his car, knowing that whetever he senced was near, and most likely coming for him. Starting up the older vehicle, he noted shadowws creeping up on him. He smiled, an icy mist forming around the car, as his eyes fades from a lively red to a pale ice blue. "Not so fast, loves...You can't catch me so easily." He guns the engine, and floors the accelerator, causing the wheels to spin aimlessly, until they dain the traction they need. Then he is off. Winter finds the shadows are not easily lost, as he speeds all the way to his home, all the while watching the shadows in his rear veiw mirrors. "Damn... they're really persistant...." the shadows begin to become more jagged looking, and then like black liquid crystals. They rear up, to smash the car to peices, but Winter turns the wheel just in time and the shadow smashes only pavement. then, Winter can't see the shadow. "Damn it all! Where is it?" He swerves into his drive as something slams the car from the left.Winter is thrown from the rolling car, to slam into the ground himself, bouncing all the way. He stuggles to get up, and nearly hurls. There is a laugh, and a man steps forth from the shadows. Winter grtts his teeth, trying to see through the blood seeping into his eyes "Who the hell are you?" he asks hotly, his icy demenor broken. the man laughs. "Who am I?" I think that not important, Mister Winter Iyce." Winter grunts, in an effort to stand., He's been messed up pretty good, but it was nothing he couldn't walk off. He focused his mind, and lowed the temperture of the air around him, soothing his wounds and scrapes. [I]"Can I help you?"[/I] Frost appears around him, making it seem Winter was in some sort of sparkleing haze. "my master will not be denied... of you...and you to be his disciple" Winter blinks, confused. "Sorry... i prefer my men to see me face to face...and I don't do my teachers." Winter can feel darkness ebbing all around them, and the crystal shadow rears again. It shatters." Come with me or die, Winter Iyce," [I]"I'll pass."[/I] the peices shoot at Winter, cutting at his clothes and skin. A peice strikes his cheek, and blood drips down his face. A sinister smile, with all the chill of the dead of winter, appears on his lips. [I]"My turn..."[/I] Hundreds of ice crystals form into lond, jagged crystals, and when Winter sweeps his hands forward, they all go flying at the 'shadow man' The man manages to dodge most of them, but he is caught by Winter's right foot hitting him into a wall. "So I see you shall fight...So be it." The man disappears into the shadows, leaving Wiinter only with questions. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Juke Box Hero Posted January 31, 2007 Share Posted January 31, 2007 He could see the conical stream of his breath in the light fog a top the Bank of New York building, like so many clouds of cigarette smoke corrupting the air below. Sharp vision found patterns in the descent of the Camel butt, at once enjoying the hidden subtlety and scanning the ground below for his contact. Calling the magic back from his eyes, he allowed them to close, reflecting on the cold wind battering his face from the West. [i]I miss my sweet North Wind?[/i] Rising from his crouch, the darkly garbed man rose to full stature, embracing the night as his brother. Pale hands found and lit another Camel before affixing the fast rope device to the edge of the stone behemoth. Recalling his days at the Air Assault School in Hawaii, he allowed a rare smile to form around the ember of the cigarette. [b]?Thank you, for lending thy embrace, West Wind.?[/b] Deep, guttural, and strong rose the obvious smoker?s voice, joining the chorus of the Winds high above history?s greatest city. Fitting the metal plated gloves to his hands, he allowed his thoughts to return to her, and in a sudden rage called forth the Magic and the wind met a skylight with awesome force. He remained perfectly still as the winds carried the shrapnel safely around him. [i]Control thyself, fool?[/i] Taking iron grip upon the fast rope, he allowed himself to fall into the bustling city below. He free fell until the slack of the cable expended itself, then called the Magic, forming a cushion of air, slowing to a gentle stop. He fast roped the rest of the way, leaving about thirty meters between his boots and the ground. Releasing hold of the rope, he again called the winds, falling gently to the ground. He was well pleased to see that his control had indeed returned, for the ash had not fallen from the Camel casually draped from his mouth. [b]?Are you ok, sir??[/b] Came a female voice from behind him. [b]?I?m fine, Gillian. Pleased even.?[/b] He looked at his trusted friend, and started at the sight of blood on her fair face. [b]?What happened???[/b] [b]?When you destroyed that light, a bit of metal struck me, its nothing? really.?[/b] The pain welled in him, venturing forth from a pit deep within his soul. This was the price of the magic, even when used for the best of purposes; those he loved were always hurt. This was a poignantly inconsequential example, leading his mind into the past, where the pain grew and thrived. [b]?Gill, I?m sorry, I? Here,? [/b] he wiped the blood from her face onto the back of his armored glove. [b]?Can?t have that pretty face of yours marred in blood.?[/b] She smiled at him, the innocence of her youth deepening the pain. She cupped his face in her hand, sensing the pain, but with no understanding of its depth, her heart filled only with the desire to help. She was an Empath, not a true magician, but a partial bearer of the gift [i]Or curse?[/i], and she was attuned to him. [b]?James, sir-?[/b] His voice honed into an edge, viciously interrupting, [b]?Never, ever use my name outside of the sanctum. Clear??[/b] Giggling, she threw a salute, mocking his storied career as a soldier, [b]?Yes, Master Sir.?[/b] Instantly losing his anger and tension, pain temporarily forgotten, he laughed, enjoying the presence of the only thing he loved. The girl he had found, his daughter. [i]Yes, my daughter, I?ll be damned if I?ll give her up to that home of the foolish?[/i], was the only light, the only warmth left in a cold heart, hardened by years of death, warfare, and suffering. [b]?I swear Gill, you?ll be the death of me yet. Forward march, soldier.?[/b] They began to move, taking a break from his own endless scan of the area, he looked back, pleased to see that she used her eyes the way he had taught her, searching always for a threat, Infantry style. Her eyes, however, failed to notice the two men who had almost immediately began to follow them. His did not. Turning a corner, he pulled Gillian into an alleyway, drawing his well used, much adored Glock 40 from his leather jacket. Motioning for silence, he dropped into a combat crouch, and waited for them to round the corner. [b]?Looking for us, friend??[/b] Came a male voice with a sneer he could feel, even in the dark. Almost before the words left the man?s mouth, he had the Glock pressed against the stranger?s throat. [b]?I?ll not ask twice. State your business.?[/b] [b]?You are in violation of the Oath you swore long ago. Have you forgotten? This little Empath belongs to us. We?ll have her and you can be on your way.?[/b] The other stranger spoke, the first unable to summon voice, as Gillian?s ?Sir? had sucked the wind from his lungs. Muscles tensed, his anger rose sharply, the rage cancelling out the pain he had felt only minutes before. [b]?I have fulfilled my Oath, this is your only chance to see the sun?s light tomorrow.?[/b] Gillian quivered, her own body wracked with the pain of her master, as well as pride in his care for her. [b]?Who do you think you are to speak to us like that? Our power is vested, you cannot challenge us. No one ever has!?[/b] He squeezed the trigger twice, deftly opening two fatal wounds in the first man?s throat. Slamming the back of his armored fist into the wall, blood flew from him as his voice turned to ice, [b]?You were sent against me without warning? My my, they must think highly of themselves these days. I am the Windfall, the North Wind incarnate. I am the Jeulnelune, Master of the Winds. I am your death, bear my greetings to those already fallen to my hand.?[/b] The 9mm round, launched with the added power of his magic tore through the stopgap shield thrown up by the second stranger. [b]?Gill, let us return home, these are not sights for your young eyes.?[/b] He gathered her in his powerful arms, stepping in the growing pool of blood on the street. The ash from his Camel glided slowly, coming to rest amongst the blood, like so many men pitted against the storm of time. Clarification Of Power: Can manipulate air at will, causing it to do a great many things to help him. As he's older (about 46 or 47), he's had more time to hone his gift, though he is by no means "all-powerful". He cannot affect air that has no natural movement, such as deep within a cave. There are ways around this, but it is very difficult. Also, he becomes very lethargic and dim witted when the air has no natural flow. All that is required is the most slight natural stirring of the air, and he's good to go, but stagnant air is his downfall. Anytime he uses the magic, he experiences extreme pain, as it causes those he loves to be hurt (e. g. Gillian's face, for a small example). Cannot conjure tornadoes or hurricanes, but he can encourage weather to a more severe state. In states of GREAT emotional distress, he loses the ability to control the winds, becoming reactively powerful, rather than proactively powerful. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Zen Posted February 1, 2007 Author Share Posted February 1, 2007 [color=darkred][size=1] Fabulous new banner art by Kitty. Feel free to use. Give props. [img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v332/PicKitty/TheMagiciansbanner1.png[/img][/color][/size] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Allamorph Posted February 1, 2007 Share Posted February 1, 2007 [FONT=Arial][COLOR=DarkRed]Kitty[/COLOR], that looks absotively fantabuloriffic. I almost hate to ask, but is there any way you could alter that to fit in the avatar block? Please? :animeswea [/FONT] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Zen Posted February 1, 2007 Author Share Posted February 1, 2007 [color=darkred][size=1] I was actually going to ask her a similar question. Be patient, haha. I don't want to put to much pressure on her, but maybe she'll do something special for us...[/color][/size] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kitty Posted February 1, 2007 Share Posted February 1, 2007 [SIZE=1]I feel so honored that you all enjoy my banner and splash. o3o;; And there's really no pressure on me at all. These were very simple to put together, so they were fun to make. So yeah... Thank you so much! @__@ And an avatar is no problem. Here's one already. x3 [IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v332/PicKitty/TheMagiciansavatar1.png[/IMG][/SIZE] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Doublehex Posted February 1, 2007 Share Posted February 1, 2007 Kitty, as always, your PS works are works of genius. I wish I could steal your sexah talents sometimes for my sites. Also makes me wish OB would allow us to have more than 1 banner in our signatures. >.> ...Boss, wouldn't it be a good idea to create an Underground for this now, what with this being the fifth non sign up related post? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ezekiel Posted February 2, 2007 Share Posted February 2, 2007 [SIZE=1][B]Hay u guyz, stop spamming tha thread lolz!!1![/B] [COLOR=DarkGreen][INDENT]The crowd roared in applause, white down feathers still littering the waxed stage where a flock of doves had seemingly exploded from nowhere. The man in green bowed, his top hat resting between two delicate fingers as his arm stretched out toward his audience, blonde hair tousled and flat from many years of wearing a hat seemed to sparkle in the stage lights. He was proud tonight, it had been a good crowd, but then again these Americans always were fascinated by magic and a good showman. He grinned in a way that most would say was manic, if it weren't for him being a performer. The smile stretched and hid his bottom teeth from view, violet eyes (surely contacts) winking with glee and mischief. [B]"Sank you, all!"[/B] he called, his German accent obvious despite his time away from his homeland. [B]"I do hope zat I'll see you at ze after party!"[/B] With that he edged off stage, backwards, still in his bow. That was his way, and they loved him for it. A servant to entertainment and to the people, for the most part anyway. His dressing room was small, seeming crowded due to the overly sized sofa and gold-framed mirror that covered a wall all by itself. The performer threw his hat onto his desk, running a white-gloved hand through his hair before reaching for his silky, purple tie, throwing that down to join his hat. As he undressed, he watched cards and ribbons fall from his sleeves and shirt, stray coins tinkling pleasantly on the wooden floor. He smiled at the sight of one of them rolling away, closing his eyes briefly before looking into them across the room. His clone picked the coin up and flicked it, catching it before rolling it across his knuckles with practised ease. He grinned and watched as the coin disappeared into an identical sleeve, tossing his own jacket over one shoulder. [B]"You have people to impress, Albrecht, I don't think you should keep zem vaiting." "Ja, Hexenmeister, I shall do my very best."[/B] Each magician grinned and inclined their heads, the real Albrecht quickly getting changed into his 'normal' clothes, those being a pair of dark, slim-fit jeans and a leather jacket, as well as a controversial [URL=http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/662150/2/istockphoto_662150_german_nazi_hat.jpg]Nazi cap[/URL]. He packed his props and suit away, folding it into a briefcase before he snuck out of his room and out of the building. He had only been walking for ten minutes before he sensed danger behind him, the clicking of expensive sounding shooes over the pavement coming to an abrupt halt when Albracht slowed down to look over his shoulder. He spotted a man in a menacing looking suit, a frown on his old and serious face. [B]"Albrecht Himmler, age 30, ex-member of the Neo-Nazi party of Germany. Am I correct?"[/B] Albrecht frowned and turned around fully, his top teeth bared once again in something akin to a snarl. [B]"Ja."[/B] he stated simply, his grip on the handle of his briefcase tightening. The man in the suit smiled and stepped forward, offering his hand as if to shake, [B]"I think we should have a chat, you and I. I know a lot about you."[/B] [B]"It vouldn't surprise me, sir. You see I am on a lot of peoples black lists."[/B] the magician took a step backward, noticing the mouth of a very inviting alley not far behind him. He closed his eyes and tossed his briefcase at the man in front of him, knowing everything in there was repalceable, and three of him were sprinting away at a full sprint. He heard a gunshot ring out as he dipped into the alley mouth, replicating himself once again to throw the 'agent' off course. Another bullet deflected from a wall near his head, causing the German to hiss out a gutteral curse in his mother tongue. The agent ran after him but seemed to be running out of steam, constantly firing off shots between loud shouts for Albrecht to stop. 'I don't think so.' he smirked, winking at one of his clones before he vaulted over a bent fence, making full use of his long legs and lanky 6'2'' frame to easily clear the obstacle, It wasn't much longer before the agent gave up and slumped against a wall, Albrecht's clones only dissapearing when he was safely at home and packing his bags for the next plane out.[/INDENT][/COLOR] --- Afsk, so late oooon. >_< [B]To clarify[/B] (as if it wasn't obvious enough): Albrecht can pretty much make indefinite amounts of clones of himself, much like Naruto's Kagebunshin no Jutsu. He uses them mostly so that he can take a break, because unlike him, the clones don't really tire out. Though they will disappear if injured and Albrecht gets more strained the more clones he creates. He's also a fantastic magician by profession, and German no less! Full title-[I]Albrecht die Hexenmeister [/I] (Albert the Magician). [B]Edit: [/B] Lulz, I wondered why mine was so short compared to everyone elses. Added the encounter, and I hope it's okay to add some mystery to his past with all the Nazi stuff. I'm sure it gives everyone a good idea of the kind of person he is.[/SIZE] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Juke Box Hero Posted February 2, 2007 Share Posted February 2, 2007 We starting this thing anytime soon...? [COLOR=DarkGreen][SIZE=1]Actually, I meant it. Don't be spamming the thread, posts like this are pointless and can be asked over PM. -[B]Ezekiel[/B].[/SIZE][/COLOR] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Revelation Posted February 3, 2007 Share Posted February 3, 2007 [size=1][color=#4B5B5B][indent]Applaud erupted around the auditorium as Amelia DiMaggio finalized her last act. She took a bow and waved to her so-called ?fans? and exited stage left. It was all a routine for her, in fact everything was a routine- on and off stage. Her life revolved only three things- work, play, and school. Be as it may she loved her life and nothing could?ve changed the way she felt about it. It did involve some nasty tricks that shouldn?t be seen by ?normal? eyes but?what good is a gift if it?s unused? Then again what good is a curse if it is used? Flicking a strand of black cherry hair from her ivory tone face, Amelia smiled politely to the other performers waiting their turn. She walked into her dressing room and threw her top hat onto the vanity table in front of her. Using her powers was slightly draining; it was a wonder that she didn?t experience the splitting headaches she always had. Amelia shook her head lightly and began unlacing the black corset that was part of her stage outfit when a knock interrupted her. From behind the door was her manager, Eddie. Eddie came in with a bouquet of- oddly enough- black and white roses. Before her manager left, he added, [B]?By the way, ?Lia, you have a guest who?s interested in meeting you. I?ll send her in.?[/B] This called for suspicion. No one ever came by to see her, not even a potential client, not even her father who accepted her powers and lifestyle but refused to believe what she was doing was good for it. It was even odder that her manager would allow anyone to see her. From the vanity mirror she saw a woman enter the open door. She was a tall woman who appeared sophisticated with an air of royalty hanging about her. She was dressed entirely in black and when she spoke, she spoke with an elegant tongue, [B]?It?s been a while, mio piccolo usignolo.?[/B] It was then that Amelia knew who the woman was- her mother. Inside, she was filled with rage and shock but on the outside, she showed no change of face. [B]?I know this is a big surprise to you- it should be. I left your father and made it seem like I was dead for many years and?? ?You should?ve stayed that way then.?[/B] With disregard to the comment, her mother stepped forward and tried to lay hands on her daughter?s shoulders but Amelia wouldn?t have any of it. [B]?Don?t touch me, Miranda. You?ve no right to lay neither a hand nor a finger on me. I?m not your daughter anymore?I haven?t been for fifteen years. State your business; I don?t have time for petty people like you.?[/B] A swift comment from outside made Miranda bark an order, disrupting her calm appearance. [B]?Alright fine. There?s someone who wishes to meet you, usignolo. He knows of your talents and believes that you?ll do well under his command. If you come with me you?ll see??[/B] A sharp sting to Miranda?s face stopped her from talking further. Amelia threw the door open and crossed her arms. Her mother only left with the words, [B]?Be careful and beware, the Master?s power is limitless. He?ll do whatever it takes to get to you and others.?[/B] Scoffing, Amelia watched Miranda leave with the two people she came with. Slamming her door, she slipped out of her costume and into her street clothes in an angry hurry. She stared at the reflection in the vanity mirror, wanting to break it, imagining it shattering to pieces. Leaving her room, the sound of shattering glass resounded. Amelia said her goodbyes and walked out the door. However, waiting down the street were her mother and the two goons that followed her. [B]?You shouldn?t have turned us down, usignolo. My Master?s not keen on traitors. He?s a hard businessman.?[/B] She nodded to the two men next to her and watched them advance on Amelia. [B]?I?m sorry it has to be this way, usignolo.?[/B] The sound of her mother?s footsteps walking away triggered a distant memory she thought she had forgotten. She could clearly see a woman walking away and closing the door, listening to a man punch walls and curse in Italian. She could clearly remember the day her mother walked out on her and her father. Anger boiled within her, rage settled in, and bloodlust enwrapped her. As she watched her mother walk away, blood trickled down her now clenched fists; her nails digging into the soft skin of her palm, creating small puddles of blood on the pavement. She was transfixed on her image of her mother walking away she couldn?t see an icy dagger flying towards her until the last moment. Amelia leapt out of the way but the dagger had cut her face and sent chills down her spine. The man had a menacing chuckle, it was unnerving and almost ridiculed Amelia. It didn?t take long until Amelia realized why the man had stopped when a cold touch to her neck surprised her. His breath against her neck and cheek made her shiver. Without a moment to lose, Amelia sunk through the shadows before the man could drain her life-force. Breathing heavily, Amelia leaned against the wall for support all the while watching the two men. Before they could do anything else, she noticed where they were standing and sent blood blades flying up towards them, making them jump out of the way. From that moment, Amelia trapped them in her dark trap, ensnaring their powers. Regaining her energy, Amelia stood before the men. They were expressionless and struggled to get out of whatever hold she had on them. [B]?You foolish ogres, tell Miranda this: I don?t care about her Master or his plans. I?m not interested in a worthless man?s game involving magicians. And tell her?I?m not her nightingale anymore. I never was.?[/B] Once around the corner, Amelia released the men from the entrapment. She knew that she hadn?t seen the last of them or her mother.[/color][/indent] Ugh. Long and ugly, sorry for posting so late, Mike. Anyways, Amelia basically uses the dark arts as her foundation. It?s a little of everything but she mainly likes to manifest things especially from tarot cards. Her dark arts powers are also connected to her emotions and can get out of hand when the more extreme emotions take control of her. Anyways, have at it. Let?s see if this thing goes on for a while like Gifts and Curses.[/size] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Zen Posted February 3, 2007 Author Share Posted February 3, 2007 [color=darkred] [b][u]Sign Ups Closed![/b][/u] [size=1] Thank you everyone for signing up. Please check the coming Underground thread for the accpetance list. I thank you all again for signing up, and I appreciate it. PS- Sorry for the spam Zeke, I'm not used to the underground for pre-RP stuff. Thanks for signing up.[/color][/size] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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