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dvsn

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About dvsn

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    —infinity

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    Below the earth (all my friends are dead).

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  1. If I were going wrestler I'd go Turtle.
  2. Caesura OOC

    When it's moved back to Kadia I'd like to be notified please, thank you.
  3. Tiandi Wushu School of Martial Arts

    omehow a blind, lazy master of martial arts found himself on the horizon of dawn laying among a camp of interesting would-be students. The immersive, impregnable forest that hid them from all but a beacon of light from the sun to Yuyi Ren, everyone one at a time began to introduce themselves. The Blind Salamander winced. “You did send all of the right invitations didn't you?” So Chan蘇可以 the Deadeye was atleast amused. Two-hundred and fourteen centimeters tall (7 feet and a quarter) and ninety-four kilograms himself, there were few he feared, and even less that kept him entertained...that is long enough to actually learn. As the only active Baxian, the Blind Salamander was notoriously lazy and often did nothing without mountains of food to fill his bottomless stomach. Perhaps a legendary master within the world of martial arts but unproven as a teacher, a conveyor, one who could break down the mountains of tomes written by ancestors of old and convey their timeless wisdom. This was his chance to change that. “Just kidding...” So Chan smiled loudly for a moment, his left hand lifting to scratch his bright white hair. Unlike the others, he wore thick iron bangles on each of his wrists that at first glance seemed cumbersome - but did little to hamper him. His soft, baritone voice suddenly started much louder so that they could all clearly hear. “My name is Su Can, but you're all welcomed to call me So Chan. I'm one of the instructors here to denote the teachings of the elusive Dragon school, that of which much must be obscure to you all by now. You will come to know my nickname and much about me in your instruction with us...for now...the important thing to know is I love food, and have been called the most violent instructor many have ever had. For some reason most people don't survive my training much less become masters...perhaps becoming a master of the Quinlong is too much for others...” the blind, though still young man, began to trail off, his chin falling into his right hand for a moment. “...anyways. I look forward to learning more about you all when you're not half dead...and I'm not sleep.” Stroking his chin one last time he nodded to himself convincingly before crossing his hands along the back of his head. It was hard to stay awake when there was so much talking to do, even for him - but even he knew how important conversation and dialogue was.
  4. Just to clarify there are four available schools but only two listed. For most information not stated you can either PM me or hit our Discord channel for now. This will be a longlasting project. 1. Yes. 2. No. Although a temporary location in Terrenus is something that interests the group I'm sure. More to be explained.
  5. The factions are coming OOC

    Not sure what our general plan is. Was planning to collaborate with @danzilla3 but we both seem busy now so I'd casually write us off for now.
  6. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    efore eternity there was nothingness, this much Evaristus knew. Within the sun existed naivety deceased and disposition gelid though respectful. The house of horror existing before his days of the Soulseeker Academy spent injecting himself himself with secrets of the Sicamedes School and the eclectic enemies of his livelihood faced throughout his aimless journey of many mysterious locations afar—they both served to mature him well beyond his true years. When he were only thirteen and the rest of his peers older, he had already far superseded their ceilings of thought and understanding of the world and it's painful, blunt truths. This was not only a gifted talent but a curse, one that drove him away from the warmth of happiness and betrayed the warmth of allure and charisma that made him one of the most well-known of The Corvinite Imperium. After having eaten the fruit carefully, he was given ginger soft napkins to wipe his hands and clear liquid drops from a thick bag containing cleaner along his back. “Primera? Oh good luck sir!” the teenager bowed, aware of Kadia but unaware of Evaristus' importance - not that it mattered. “She's up in the palace beyond where many of the others are, but it's so darn crowded! I enjoy the fresh air and the calm breeze of lilacs, honey, and alcohol all in the same air!” Evaristus gleamed a rare smirk. The fire in his soul was akin to that of his older brother back then in the Old World, when poverty had chipped away their fingernails and their every encounter played at the lines of life and death...the days before they had discovered who he was... “I'm sure you'll have no problem tho'...she's very-” “Thank you for your hospitality...” Evaristus waved with his right hand from beneath his ivory cloak, his cashmere shoots tapping lightly against the stone that brought the titan past the young teenager. The red-haired teenager, shirtless and green eyed, grinned and waved off the swordsman before disappearing back into the festivities. It was almost as if fitting into the scheduled timing of fate itself that Justis would appear from an alley to his right, the loud black armor loud enough to hear over the voices of those traversing to and from. Remmington. Everything else died, their noise, their existence, all he could see was the celestial canvas to his own infinite glow in their duality even from afar. Subconsciously maneuvering through the few that surrounded them, Justis took four steps back and to Remmington's rear before bowing. His celeste eyes became gentle and his hands that rose to the touch of her cheeks were warm and ginger. There was something that troubled her, something dangerous was here...no...the woman of his dreams had already warned him that he would face evil of many faces in the future...a burden not just his own but that of those around him. Could it be that day? “What is it that troubles you, my heart?” Evaristus whispered, his rumbling bass aiming to surrender to what words she would next say.
  7. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    When the reborn arrived in Avylon he was drowned in the mystical air of Renovatio and equally taken aback by the people and their positivity. Disgusting. People with no power who lived naively didn't deserve the favor of fortune. The world since the dissolution of the presence that would be Exus Prime was a complicated time for a scholarly elite such as Camus Derg or in this life Camus Maxamiliano Cristo the Seventh. As complicated was his history was the world that he came to view with his true family blood's celeste colored eyes. From beneath his platinum mask his facade showed remorse and humility but his soul burned with hatred, echoed by Adremmelech from within. His entire life he had walked the road of absolution which gave him the opportunity to become RioT, to become elite, to become SANCTUM: until finally the time came where he realized the truth of the world and his purpose in it. It was by the Crystal of Alterion's very blessing in granting him the wrothful beast that he came to realize the life that was beyond his own. This was the birth of a different kind of evil. “Hut-tup!” Camus stammered, tripping over his own foot. Regardless of his pedigree and reverence he remained one of the more clumsy, out of character personaes outside of war. Brushing against an armored knight of a foreign country, they gave one glance to him in irritation only to realize who exactly he was. The resplendent silver mask and the rumors of a foreigner from Alterion employed by RioT who was something of a genius. While not everyone was aware of what he was capable of they were atleast aware of the rumor. The soldier pushed along as did Camus, and he could feel the soldier pushing for breath realizing how close he had been to a disaster. What was a man like him doing walking casually among everyone? It was true that this festivity was meant to be a gathering of all under peace and reunion...but someone like that? Camus took step after step (occasionally) tripping along the way, and before he knew it he was welcomed warmly into the castle. His smile was clean and teeth ivory, they lined symmetrically and his hoary hair contrasted his platinum mask with punctual horns. Yet with every word he coaxed the threads of destiny. This festival was magnificent, everyone from across many worlds had all come under one roof. Furthermore, Primera...Camus had long desired to meet the anomaly of a curious existence while observing the others that existed throughout whether as partners or allies. Irregardless, The Armor of Fafnir seemed suited to meet his disposition as a knight while remaining so elegantly crafted that it was suitable enough to represent Alterion, but more importantly, it's highest military elite. Within minutes he'd swept up a few glasses of alcohol before dissolving into the crowds, appearing to be a casual pedestrian among the masses of those arrived. Where was Primera? In due time. Until then Camus simply was.
  8. What are you playing?

    Yes.
  9. What are you playing?

    Monster Hunter (four hours), Warframe (466 in mission hours), Digimon Hackers Memory (82 hours) all in rotation.
  10. he moment Evaristus identified mistakes he exposed them like freshly stitched wounds being torn open. The problem with both of his enemies was purely mental, and perhaps execution itself. What brought his focused drive forward was his ability to calmly adapt upon observation of often times subtle changes in his opponents (Justis argues it's a war god's luck). However equal they may be in stature, experience and ability would become the defacto. When they decided to commit to their strategy and take Evaristus itself wasn't nearly as bad as their execution. The wind blast itself was fired in an incoherent shape1 (for the sake of argument calling the gust a beam) and being that it was only fired straight at him and not in any general direction like his legs, or chest, the blast fires towards his upper torso where ducking becomes possible. As you can guess, that's exactly what the titan sword did. Being that his approach was always one that remained calculatingly aware of his opponents, it became a combination of experience and his opponents lack of execution that allowed him to almost casually dodge the gust of wind, but dealing with Aoi would be far more to Evaristus' tastes. As to why he'd think that the gust of wind, regardless of whether it was successful or not (he has other tricks up his sleeve), would render him unable to swing his sword and strike Aoi down before he was in arm's reach was beyond the Saint of Swords. Regardless, the gust of wind didn't render any optical abnormalities nor did it shift anything but his crouched stance while jogging forward swinging his sword - which fortunately was the perfect adjustment for a charging Aoi who was closer to his size than most. The slipstream didn't make Aoi much faster than he would have been, but fast enough for Evaristus to pull the trigger early, and swing his blade horizontally just before Aoi's right hand began to reach out to obstruct that very hand. Unfortunately Aoi was looking to lose that battle. With a renown amount of focus and patience into the timing of the quick draw upon adapted situations his mind was clear evermore in that very moment. The swing of the horizontal blade was poised to slice through the bicep and tricep region of the arm of the very hand even thinking to grasp it in time, or slice cleanly through some amount of flesh that would be ignited by his blade when it struck. Judging his prior stance? It looked like his arm was gone. But atleast Aoi stood to gain something from their engagement. Already frustrated by his opponents lackadaisical approaches to war he'd get the best out of Evaristus Sicamedes on this malevolent night. A beast for years locked away stirred underneath his celeste eyes stirring with fleckes of emerald as the engagement continues...
  11. Had the flu just recovered. Post tomorrow.
  12. I'm fairly sure we'll be doing a thread here soon at @danzilla3's behest.
  13. I won (sacrifices had to be made, however). Posting will resume accordingly.
  14. Dancing on Moonbeams!

    he Sun of Kadia transmitted his frustrations with his very demeanor, ambling cautiously throughout the festive streets of Avylon with little desire outside of coming to some rationale as to the festivals atmosphere. So much joviality that Evaristus was subtly annoyed. Pacing with black cashmere boots his starry celeste eyes surveyed the upbeat tempo of Renovatio's celebration with silent scrutiny. Minutes since he had dismissed his battalion there was no doubt that Justis had already found Remmington so that he could watch her from afar - still, something felt dreadfully wrong. There was no evidence, but rather the lack thereof, that disturbed Evaristus'. The steps of which the golden-haired Sword Saint took were that of careful footwork, with each step he appeared to glide with an air of preordained caution unlike that of his esquites. Once a vanguard always a vanguard Evaristus refused to dissolve his constant watchwork. Wheresoever he went, so too did the stares of natives that watched the tall hume of glowing creamy skin, gorgeous hair that resembled the sky of the morning, and celeste eyes that looked upon others with critical indifference. “Sir! Please take one!” a young adolescent barked, no older than a teenager, stretching his frail arms out together simultaneously cupping a fruit covered by iridescent stripes along its exocarp. “And welcome to Avylon! Are you in need of any guidance?” Having stopped at the child's behest Evaristus gave the young one no eye contact, rather instead observing any nuance of the world around him. If the Sword Saint could ask anything, he would inquire about Remmington's whereabouts. “I require an audience with Primera and Desmond on behalf of Corvinus and Kadia. Nothing more...” his stern, rumbling voice vibrating the air and rivaling that of the collective of serene chaos that surrounded them. Then his left hand lifted from his side and grabbed the large fruit in his full, singular grip. It was true that he hadn't eaten in hours, but it was also true that he didn't need to. Still, he would have to be sure not to stain his ivory attire. Justis was a vassal analogous to that of the Sicamedes royal blood and carried out all orders on behalf of their undying loyalty. For years his mother had served Dioscleti and the other unnamed vessels of royalty until their dying days, and there was never a day of doubt that what he was doing was in the best interests of his family and a higher calling altogether. The Black Knight of the Dawnbreak esquite moved with imperceptible ease through the shadows of Avylon wheresoever they manifested while observing the security protocols and the other arrivals as well. While Evaristus was naturally cautious, it was Justis veritas to ensure safety to those who were of The Corvinite Imperium and otherwise allied. As such the left-hand of Duke Evaristus dissolved and reappeared every few moments in a different location where his incandescent eyes of fire observed all, that was until he discovered Remmington. The weakness in her blood and her bones bothered Justis as it had from the moment the Sun of Kadia declared his love for her. While her skill was revered across even The Corvinite Imperium, Justis saw her as the achilles heel of the Dawnbreakers. Were the golden-haired swordsman's sanity henged on her livelihood, their future expenditures and service to Corvinus Melinsede would be limited, this much the grim knight felt. Still the gelid heart remained detached from the black knight's objectives as black greaves beat against the cobblestone beneath, and eyes of fire glowed from beneath onyx plate. “Maiden of War,” Justis spoke with respect, calling out to Remmington from a few feet beyond. She appeared weak, pale, troubled. Something was diffusing the balance that Ucissore's were revered for, which meant that it was a matter pertaining to Evaristus or Avylon itself. “...what is it that troubles you? The Sword Saint expects to meet you in the palace beyond, is there something afoot?” Still and unmoved the black knight lifted his left hand to rest on the hilt of his mysterious sword, eyes of indifference much like that of Evaristus own looking down upon her.
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