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Etched In Stone

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Etched In Stone last won the day on May 20

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About Etched In Stone

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  • Birthday 12/15/1991

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    Depths of the Underworld
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    Writer, Poet, Musician, Composer, Student

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  1. How strange was it the twelve Okami shugenja warriors were already amongst the combatants. Six on one side of Komorebi as the remaining six circled for the advantage around Yoshihide. The grip around the Monk's wrist though it was strong enough to shatter the bone from tendon, his clench over the swordsman's neck was not enough. The entire time his ki aura protected him nearly from every corner and there was no breaking it from his spirit. Unwilling to claim defeat drained not only from the blood loss in his gut, but the will of his own becoming overthrown by his primal fury, the beast within slowly was consuming him. Nearly invisible threads of life force of over two hundred pounds of tensile strength webbed from the reinforcements fingertips. In each hand of the shugenja warriors made it sixty in total out of the six men surrounding Komorebi. In their tengu arts these threads were projected to tangle and suppress the knife hand’s debut ability and the rest of his limbs from any further motions. His assault stopping barely mid-air, vibrating with immense energy. Just when the crackles from flame no longer could be heard, it seemed the entire world stopped for just this one moment. The remainder of Okami acted promptly with thin cords of intangible energy in the same manner suppressing both his grips from around the Man-Eater. Halting the battle from any more commencements. Shiroyasha would have never admitted to have met his match, it was evident in the arrival of the highwaymen just who had been the victor. With the blade still lodged it was true, he had taken the most physical damage from the bout. His eyes ignited in protest of acknowledging the interfering clansmen with Komorebi still in the air. "Release him at once, Shihan you must! We cannot allow this fight to destroy any more than what it has upon the land. These are orders from the Soke, Kenshinobu. It also seesm that a fellow Okami was murdered in the jurisdiction of his outpost." The alpha finished his words screaming across the crackles of flame burning the grassy fields of Jigoku. The band of shugenja proceeded in retracting the latched hands from Komorebi as the other six worked on drawing away the energy blade formed in the knife hand of the monk. As Shiroyasha's grip finally let up, so did his rage; the infused threads of life force not only impacting any current physical judgements, but any intense emotions from either party were also soon dulled and diminished to calm to their spirit. This bout was viewed rather pointlessly up to now and while their bodies were being puppeted into the commands of the Okami, neither man would have been in control of doing anything with the life force threads attached. The pack leader went following with his words shortly standing furthest from the group of men in a simple Akatsukizukyo crimson robe, four black squares in the formation of a diamond adorned the uniform on the right, pec, sleeves, and back of his haori. He was a clan official from the elitist swordslayer group, the Breaking Dawn. Yoshihide's focus returned to his eyes the moment he regained his natural awareness, staring down to find the pool of blood soaking into his white robe as they flickered in and out of consciousness. His guard now lowered, defenseless, the importance of acquiring the yokai spirit from the Monk drifted from him as a passing wind. His underestimation caused enough damage. Even if he desired to be left to finish what started between he and the Monk the Okami men simply couldn't will it to happen. As the six surrounding the Monk moved further to restrain him with ki infused makeshift cuffs, so did the others go to secure Shiro and tend to his wounds with their healing capabilities. "Contain these spreading flames, then head out back to Jigoku with these two." While simple kuji in water seals were utilized to extinguish the quenching flames abroad the land, half of the group were already in line formation headed back to the Imperial City in captivity of both men. Shiroyasha's wounds were still deep, yet the shugenja plunged the sword from him without scarring more internal organs, then healed what wasn't beyond repair enough to stop the bleeding. As for Komorebi, they'd patch him up after the interrogation waiting for him back into the city. @Twitterpated
  2. "Talix Engine, my Pure Blood master. After a day's travel, we've arrived." The lifeforce drawing him to seek out the lands further, even those glorious eyes stared beyond the glass wind bewildering in slight wonder the entire city that was now beneath and around them and the once endless sea of white sky. This was nothing in comparisons to Tia and the infected, these undead vampires felt of noble life force ... Much as the Dolos were, but in mass numbers. A grand city of ruins so was it overthrown. While there had not been any forward deals cut, a gift from the confidants of Pendragon; the airship descended with it's whirling engine from the great ascension of sky, emerging from a plethora of clouds hundreds of feet from the air to safe land into Talix 's outskirts of the city. The Blood word from Martis's coordinates of the City in mass Chaos and Darkness governed by vampyre deemed worthy once over, the Dark Redeemer sat in rumination of the area in the gracious quarter provided to the Pureblood and Matriarch. Nearly two weeks passed since their sojourn from the Chateau. Spreading, infectious endearment over civilizations across the Nation of Terrenus. In a red tailcoat, slacks and matching cowhide loafers, loose strands of parted obsidian hair and goldenrod colored eyes, the Vampire remained temporarily longer astounded as the territories came more into view. Ran by massive clockwise, and counter-clockwise gears on a wheel of Science and architecture. In the ancient's 10,000 immortal knowledge he had failed to spectate a city so, timeless. “A city raging with claimed vampire nobles. This should be interesting.” @Eternity
  3. I guess just give me Kenshi, my first character the three events. Claws, the size of canine's for the sake of him being half Okami wolf … As a second weapon would he be able to use those of course without use of magic added onto them? @Fierach
  4. What is required as per missing days of course? Grace period? I would like to try all three, honestly. Just don’t want to bite off more than I can chew.
  5. In the Trueblade event, I’m aware that no powers will be allowed. 2 questions: My guy is a blind swordslayer with that being said, the only abilities considered passive are his heightened senses and inhuman strength. That’s not a power is it, seeing the majority of fighters have some content of super strength, agility, etc? My second question for the Wildblade event, will he be able to use his enchanted Blade that negates the ability of Regeneration? What about his expertise in Kuji In? Or his Okami abilities? @Fierach
  6. He still hasn’t added me, or anyone new to the list I don’t believe.
  7. On a summer night of a Blood Moon the people of Kabbalat and their leaders burned down every unholy house in the land of Lyon in search of the Lady Phoenix and her vampire. In their cottage away from the dangers of the City, naked in the warmth of satin sheets they romanced endearingly. A longevity seven centuries ago Tatia was in human flesh. and breathing. Now, he found himself staring into the pits of a resurrected woman, his Bride and her gift of Choisel immortality. In a short lived nostalgia away from the apartment and their sojourn, Tatia pursed her lips unto his breaking him free from he recollections of their distant past . The sensations of her drawing, sucking, pulling the sweet nectar from the arteries soon was no longer numb in his left forearm once she stopped drinking and ceased her tongue from prohibiting recovery. The hand upon her cheek glided fingertips down her face, barely breaking into a layer of her skin. Lifting from near her chest he held his tongue beneath her chin to catch the rolling red fluid run down the side of her face. Then the sound of some bolder came crashing from the backroom, abruptly ruining their intimacy. Craning his neck eerily in a final glance abroad the other side of the hall, piercing the the flickering lights with bewilderment, his gaze stretched towards the loud thud that echoed the corridor through the apartment. In her heightened alertness as always, Tatia was first to respond bursting from his lap with phenomenal acceleration until her vibrating form halted by the bedroom, prying the door in her vampiric prowess. "Culpabilities got him before we were able to put them to good use? What a tragedy, no?" In his slightest impressions, the Ancient's presumptions were if ever hardly mistaken. Judging by the young lady’s hysteria and the Countess's insight, some dreadful misfortune had to occur to her lover. Through what his sister witnessed, he didn’t necessarily have to peek into the room to conjure her sightings. Through the Matriarch's mind eye he envisioned the image of the hangman suffocated out of his own accord in the center of the room. Leinhart let out an exasperating sough, porcelain hands cracked together in an unnatural 360' degree rotation, contorting from the wrists and tendons only to sew the damaged ligaments anew in the next seconds that came. He stood up to rise to his full height of nearly 6' 1/2 feet, the natural cast of darkness beneath him from the room retrospectively, reflecting the frightening stature of their Master's in return. In the blink of a second his towering form beneath his vneck and the golden glitters he tried hard not to reveal, cast themselves at the doorway as Tatia moved to unhang the bedsheet from the rafter and so the corpse of the wrangling man that could not bear the burden of death to come. Hanging onto the frame his left arm with the mark from his mistress's fangs, the Ancient traced his eyes over the sound of wailing woman. An aura of unnatural darkness would generate in his manipulation as he chanted an incantation over her mind, obeying his supreme command and enacting service at the end of his words. "Clean this mess up, you will, under obedience of the true Redeemer. See yourself to the Queen once you have finished for a change of clothes. Tonight, we will have a little outing and you'll be at your best behavior as our puppet." One less person to play with was disinteresting. He winked for the hellavit’ a golden eye at Tatia before shifting on the balls of his steel toes, heading back into the shadows of the flickering lights the Choisel went to get ready for the nightclub. @Eternity
  8. An undead servant in a pinstripe suite, boyish in features with shortly faded bluish hair to contrast his gleaming eyes of viscous red oddly, appeared at the other opening of the grand room. Casually in his duty, long legs marched forward the ceiling cast his shadow from barely lit candles and torches about the stone corridor. In the visitor's presence and of the Kronos general hospitality was a metallic tray in place of bone hands he served a stone goblet filled with crimson lifeforce for the Master and topped with ice, a clear glass of cold water for Benny. Only in case, the Demon did drink fluids. Natural, at that. Even in Leinhart's brief acquaintance of Benefactor in Tia, he didn't seem the demon to require vitality as the Ancient needed. Thee Demon laid his issue upon the audience of the Count. Too weak to handle these vampires and rid them himself that were now fleeing into the parts of the Glen near his small kingdom of the Chateau. Then, boasted of a single artifact that was rightfully Kronos's from their deal. He'd apprehend what Benny spoke, something he'd already been forewarned about since his sojourn from Martial Town with his sister, the Matriarch. Allowing a moments time to grace a period of silence between them, his goldenrod eyes fixated in their stare of the Glen beyond the courtyard's wilderness. The growing miasma in the distance soaking life dry in corruption, blanketing clouds in unworldly impurity, obstructing order and creating chaos. Ultimately, this could leave room for his undead population to spread, to change, and to adapt. A distraught world under his dominion of thoughts brought an exaggerated smirk to etch across Leinhart's thinned lips. "While the ring you giveth me was upon agreement and supplemented my attunement over the forces of shadow, it is not enough of a bribe to aid you had the tables been reversed. In the fold of paths you present me, both lead to the same edge of darkness." The Pureblood's polished black fingernails retrieved grip over the ruby engraved chalice from the platform on his throne affording himself an exaggerated gulp of the red fluids. The first drink since returning, the edge of his thumb smearing away any left traces of blood, craning his orbs of bewildered intent at the Demon in his shuffling forth and back. The servant bowed gracefully in his immortal blessing and service to the Count, then once to Benny, slowly disappearing into the stone blackness from which he arrived. "What is it that I find useful, particularly at the end of yours?" Artifacts meant there was more than one, no? Purebloods fought against each other instinctively for hierarchy. The Dolos might have been weakened fleeing their destroyed city to establish territory in the Glen, and cutting a sort of deal between them and the Choisels was possible. Yet, Leinhart only imagined what Benny's power had to be in rawer form if he was in access of the rest of these artifacts. @amenities
  9. Even as the Kronos was still currently reeled towards the crevice of her neck she broke his grip from further domination. The exposed side of his own collarbone cringed in ecstasy at the slithering wetness of her riding tongue. As she pierced into the ulnar artery of his wrist with her glass like nails for a supernatural of incomparable senses, felt extremely sensual - a good rush for the pureblood. Yet, he remained composed with her there in his lap. As she stole her kiss in her painted red lips he returned it with the hand that she had not been holding unto her left cheek. Tracing the very hand that rode it's way across his lean torso back up to the pointed edge of his ear with her eyes to sink into the black flames of the past, the future, but even amongst a monster did she find a man ... she would argue, then. "That my Pureblood of 5,000 years bestowed immortality upon you." @Eternity
  10. This should have been executed prior, but the heat of battle poured onto Shiroyasha as driving rains from Hinodegakure ceaselessly intense than any normal shower. Rage for the spirit of the Man-eater blinded his judgement that even the Shinshin Shingan was unable to properly assess a counter from the thrusting blade wounding his mid-section, accompanying the burning Ki effects that opposed his dark composition. Yet, it seemed his face now only grew hideously fearsome as he jolted his neck only slightly in an arch to release a snarl of excruciating pain, terror and further hatred for monk. Shiroyasha hadn't felt such an eye opening infliction of pain since he last remebered previous Shugendo trainings alongside his older half-brother the Senjo no Ookami. The thought alone, as he went stopping from his skid .... burned harder than the blade encased in Ki itself. Channeling this immense anger and distaste for the monk, Yoshihide flipped his hands so the exposed sides of his forearms now faced upwards or towards the heavens above. From their opened palms he clenched them tightly into fists, the veins hidden beneath the elongate silks of his spring robe pumped thoroughly with blood. Even the stained silk of his white robe from the intrusion of the blade had not yet been noted. Simultaenously without much conscious thought, the cells and soft tissue of the fast twitch muscles found in his arms and shoulders in their contractions greatly exceeded their normal capacities if not almost by 50%. This meant that his arms were no longer pencil thinned and slim, but became rather meaty and clublike in the matter of a blink of the eye. Adrenaline now rushing with unstoppable furry with the blade still lodged in at this point, before the monk could manage to think of his next maneuver, even if was already predetermined. One hand latched forth and grabbed the closest wrist to him holding the katana and with the strength of a single ton in a single hand he literally, crushed the wrist until the bone and tendons snapped like a boulder fell onto it. The second hand went wrangling around the man's throat and before the eyes began to feel like they were going to pop out, his maw spread viciously wide in animation flashing a set of forty two supernatural fangs. Lifting the monk as he would a rag doll with the same arm gripped around the throat into the air to dangle as his death approached. A massive uppercut to the gut with the first hand was delivered with the same external force as the ton, all the while still choking the life from the man. "Shiroyasha!!! Shihan Shiro!!!" Words from the approaching Okami clansmen went muted amongst the crisping flames of the reeds in the grasslands, but even if he did hear them …. his feral mind had already consumed him in his bloodlust for this monk and all seemed too late to engage or better yet, prevent the inevitable at this point. @Twitterpated
  11. "Yes, maybe just as much as you like your namkeens. Imported Sencha from the foothills of my homeland, Hinodegakure. Good for the mentality of a young Warrior as myself." A cloudy, almost rich golden lime liquid steamed from the ceramic betwixt his clutch of the right hand. It's aroma reminded of flowery green, or a seaweed beachiness with the hint of delicate sweetness. The young wolf gave a delighted bright smile to the little girl and nuzzled his nose lightly against the bridge of her curiosity. Together they'd seat themselves in the lowest row of the bleachers floor side, affording a leveled view of the currently empty dojo grounds. She went smashing her teeth into the treats provided to her by the bakers, stuffing her face fast as possible like a child afraid of her parent's finding their daughter, snacking away in disapproval of such sweets in the first place. Even when Ozu didn't appear to be keeping an immediate eye on Kaori in their relative closeness of each other occasionally, sipping from his tea, picking scoops from his Sekihan bowl of rice and beans with a pair of bamboo hashi between the thumb and fingers. His canine extrasensory perception was sharper than a freshly forged blade at the blacksmith. Every so often the occasional passerby was mugged by his beady sepia eyes that even in their innocent visage, still threatened to cause harm to just about any one willing to take the risk in opposing. As heavily guarded as the Dojo appeared for the Ceremony from the hundred or more service wolves, all the way to the three-hundred or so footmen from the Imperial Army; while it seemed quite sufficient enough to protect the attendees and students, etc., things like bomb threats was something that nobody not even Ozu could prepare himself to prevent from occurring. Even still, there were just too many eyes to keep track of all at once. "Your mother would kick-my-butt if she found you eating all this junk food, wouldn't she? Hurry it up, Shimai." @Aleksei @Twitterpated
  12. The cushion from her soft bottom as she sat betwixt him, his legs spread wide in their easing peacefulness; attractively enough, she was every thing and more the Patriarch could possibly ever desire in a woman. Of course she was, Tatia was manifested from His flesh and Blood …. Her remarkable beauty was a reflection of his own glamour and grace. A slender hand ran itself slowly down the interior of her leggings, she found herself tracing a finger down the bridge of his nose and so did he find himself with the tip of a clawed finger as he glided his hand back up towards the inner thigh, easily tearing through the fabric of her wear. Puncturing into her flesh, digging his blackened nail into the porcelain white of her skin - this rather erotic moment was taken as unhurriedly as possible. She faced him with her pools of innocent blues an arm slung over his shoulder, it was true …. he was roused and galvanized by her slight dominance and for once, it actually felt right the connection between them unlike any thing experienced since her resurrection. He had given her all she desired, and whatever she wished more of …. It was Her's his Matriarch's for the keeping as was His soul, something he'd never take from her again …. Something, that Leinhart only shared with Tatia. His freed hand found itself wrapping around her neck in a clench full, pressing his thumb against the lifelessness of a vein in her throat in the heat of the moment and from his seated position he reeled as close he'd get to the nearest ear in which he whispered a poison that never been so pleasurable to be heard. "Devour me. I can only recall last the time you've done, so." What would seem a rather heinous or odious thing to do …. They were Vampires, Purebloods of the Underworld, eaters of the Blood and Flesh …. This was his way to express to her their inseparable and intense affection. His voice rung through her ear in euphoria smooth as honey from his reeled position, he didn't resist what she did next. A slither of a moistened tongue erected from his thinned pinkish lips as he slid it desperately down the tenderness of a cheekbone, rolling its way to the bottom of her neck before stopping at her naked collarbone. His grip remained firm around her throat for the time being, but then, he found his self tempted to grope at her one of her breasts in slow, sensual touches. All the while, the captures of the couple had been forgotten, they no longer seemed a nuisance in their silence behind the closed door; lost in his lechery for her to delve fangs into his flesh and saturate desires with the richness of his pureblood. "Tatia Choisel, you are mine aren't you?" @Eternity
  13. Hundreds of years ago …. One man an abandoned child was raised and protected by a pack of wolves. Later that boy grew into an adult and was eventually given the Cursed Ookami Okoto as a spirit and protector over the wolves that once nurtured him. That man was the Soke's Father who later passed and next in line to be the clan's heir was his oldest son, Kenshinobu. The Okami were known as the founding clan at the top of hierarchy within their existing lineage. When the clan married amongst each other to preserve the sacred knowledge of the Okami they were allowed to keep their Mother's surname to distinguish between the three bloodlines of the lineage. Unlike any other Ichizoku apart of Datsuzoku, they were the only clan that divided into three separate subgroups. Momoku, Moromichi, and the Momiji were beneath the main branch of Okami. It was in that reason and many others, often the other clans under the Imperial Family detested them. Primarily, the Owari. It been true the Grand Opening of the Dojo was the Hanyo's first actual acquaintanceship of the other officials. As he followed directly behind the traveling line of the Emperor after affording his niece a pat on the shoulder further for her commemorations, the Blind Wolf felt the tension between he and the one known as Otomatsu as he drew closer like a fish pulling on a line in water. Swatting down a mosquito that plunged itself into his neck with a crossed right palm in the same instant, it was no longer leeching from him. The smell of fresh foods, rice cakes, steamed and boiled fish, delighted his senses like a favorite treat perhaps - this moment was not one he could entertain himself with dining. His sightless stare lacked the care for the inconsideration of the others, though his company had been apart of the Emperor's this second … It was only in that reason did he afford them all a slight arch of his back as he bowed gesturing himself in a kind manner. Specifically, he was now standing amongst the one he had anticipated his most attention out of, the Shogun, Lady Koharu. "How could I ever forget such a spectacle as that day?" He graced his benevolence upon her without sighting himself onto her directly. Today, this moment they were faced-to-face with the Nation's greatest Swordslayer that despite his reputation of being second-to-none in his Battojutsu continuously afforded those of worth with his serenity and amicable temperance. A change over time since the Yokai Wars of his era. His ash black tendrils cascaded down his back in abundance with all the shorter hairs falling across his face as bangs. His appearance stood rather smaller and slender in build up-close and even in his age of nearly 200 odd years his countenance remained very youthful and feminine in visage. As the two other leaders seemed to have more important matters to handle than their supporting roles here during the ceremony, Kenshi gently brushed down the sides of his silk white summer robe and stepped from their way into a seat besides the Shogun. With the smell of cherry blossoms in the fragrance of his garbs he proceeded in delightfulness looking into the emptiness of the arena floors. "That is possible. Perhaps, once Moromichi returns from his summons we can arrange that. What if we added a door from Union City to Jigoku, until then?" @Twitterpated @vielle
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