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Michael Bloodfang

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About Michael Bloodfang

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    Male
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    Stark Tower
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    Movies, Anime, Comic Books, Music, Rap, Writing, Books, Roleplaying , Gaming
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    Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist 😎

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  1. "Hey, Doc," she said. The kind doctor rounded his eyebrow at an unwarranted nickname. He addressed this woman with the utmost of respect. However, it seems like; she was one of the common volk that don't bother with such mannerisms. He duly noted that as he glanced her way. Without being much help - he watched as Ben and Natalie did the heavy lifting. Although, he could spot Ben... checking Natalie out? The simple man was somewhat confused as to what all this between them seemed. Maybe they were together? Or maybe he was trying to check her out and get something out of it. Nevertheless, he finally could be useful as Natalie pointed him toward the two bags, stating that they were his equipment. Since they had a red cross in the middle. He didn't know with the kind of equipment he will work with. He theorized they'll be the typical - run of the mill - doctor instruments and nothing too high tech or pompous. That being said, Doctor Morgan had his own equipment with him in a briefcase he was holding. His tools - were more high tech. A lot of it miniaturized with the help of nano-bots. He pondered if that couldn't count as normal... then again... ...what is normal? And if anyone asked - he's paid well. That's what he could say in return. "Right away," Doctor Morgan nodded his head as he walked toward the two bags. He placed his briefcase under his armpit, before grabbing the two bags. He turned around and followed the two down the hill until another personage popped out of nowhere. He paid the person no mind, as he had his own objective in mind. And as suspected, they weren't the only ones here. Other groups of humanitarian folks joined in this particular "save the people" mission. They were already on the lookout for clues and information they could gather. His natural competitiveness stirred in him. The Doctor glanced toward the man who was sent by Natalie to help him with the bags. "You can have this one," he handed him one bag, so he could hold his briefcase more comfortably, as he followed Natalie and Ben. In the end, the poles were sat down in a clatter, before everyone went to construct them into place. Meanwhile, Doctor Morgan watched as everyone did their jobs before Natalie talked to him and he averted his attention toward her, listening every bit she had to say to him. However, he didn't let her teasing humor go by undetected by the Doctor. "Yes, of course," he replied with a soft tone, as a smirk donned his cast. "That is why we have brutes like you, with a basic education and religious belief, rather than an understanding of factual science, to do this kind of job," he jested, while gesturing with his hand. "Rough hands and all," the Doctor teased her a hundred times back. He was a feisty and dominant one, despite his mundane appearance and all. He still had to show this woman her place and that Doctor Morton wasn't someone to trifle with in a battle of wits and mind. "With that being said, if you'll excuse me, important matters await me," he said. When he passed Natalie by, he smirked at his brief yet exciting exchange. He wondered what she could have possibly said back. Maybe an insult? Or something as trivial and equal to that? Of course, it was all in good fun. But since she decided it was good to poke the Doctor with a stick. He only saw it fair to return the favor. Alas, he didn't give that woman or her words much thought as he walked toward his destination. While he passed many people by, he could see the destruction of this place. Buildings scorched and turned to ashes. Bodies burnt beyond recognition... ...This was a massacre. On the other hand, the Doctor didn't seem to affect him on an emotional level. He was quite apathetic about it. This was a disguise. An act. Because underneath all of that nanobot shell, there was hiding a merciless yet with an honor code killer, who piloted an NS empowered by an ancient demon soul. Just because he's here. It was because of his interest in this archdemon. Anything he could get about this entity would greatly interest him. With that being said, he had to keep his entertainment in check as he approached the tent where Doctor Flores and Mr. Chen. "Greetings," Doctor Morton said, walking toward the two. "I've been told this is the place where my physician and medical skill will come into great help," he mentioned.
  2. Jack stared at Osvif's eyes in anger, much the same as Osvif gazed back at him. The blade of Jack's scythe screeching across the surface of Osvif's divine blade, small, fiery sparks ignite from the continuous rubbing against each other. They seemed equally matched, at least for now. Their stalemate would last only for a few seconds, enough for Gwen to make a run for it. "I resent that term," was what Gwen said. Osvif's hardened his face, scoffing from his lips, "I don't care what you resent," he said, "you are a filthy demon, just like him," his anger would also directed at her. She got herself involved in this now, even if she had no intention in getting involved. On the other hand, Jack cursed with his thoughts, before Gwen exited the room and now the two could go all out. Their blades decided that they had enough of this rubbing, as they chipped and they slipped, thus throwing the two off balance. But Jack would be the first to regain his footing. He gripped his scythe and slashed across his abdomen. Osvif would counter-attack the strike with his blade. His nose scrunched in annoyance as he yelled and turned around. A mighty kick shot at Jack's abdomen, throwing him off balance and into the bar stand. The wood cracked, and the commotion followed through, causing the drinks to fall on Jack. As his enemy held his weapon up, the tip once again ignited itself with energy. His mighty hands fell, the blade emitting another metaphysical force in the form of a bright-blue energy burst. Jack opened his eyes in shock. He ducked and dodged the attack, just barely to save his skin, as he got back on his feet. Frustration built up in his body. However, he smirked for a moment and Osvif caught that. Gwen had successfully evacuated everyone from this place. Now, this place stood before the inevitable ground zero. At last, he had a chance to go all out. Loud bone cracking sounds were heard, as black angelic wings sprung from his back horrifically. The edge of the scythe's blade glowed. It cast an unexpected expression from Osvif, his face curled in perplexity as Jack lunged forward at a hypersonic speed. There was no window for Osvif to react, despite trying his best to slash downward, toward Jack's face with his hunching form. Though, the effort was futile in this situation, as his scythe gauze through Osvif's harden abdomen. A burst of blood-stained Jack's sudden sick-palish complexion. The sword fell with its heft from Osvif's hands, hitting the ground, the tip impaling the wooden floor with relative ease. An inhuman gasp escaped Osvif's shaking lips, his arms immediately folding themselves around his abdomen. He fell on his knees with a grunt, he looked up at him, "you demon," he coughed blood heavily, staining the floor with the red subsistence. This wasn't at all what he imagined. He let his guard down and he paid for it. He had little doubts Jack would spare his life now. Yet, when he stared at Jack, he could see that he lost all of his humanity. Osvif couldn't even make a face. It was all shadowed by darkness. What he could see, however, were pure moonlight eyes emitting from the creature. Grotesque sounds came from the creature known as Jack. His wings twitched and shook. His fingers independently moved in different ways, struggling to find a sturdy hand grip. This wasn't Jack anymore, this was something else. Something that he was hiding from most, a state of being that Gwen would most likely not want to see. Osvif remained static, unable to move, but he could cast a healing spell on him at least by uttering a few faint words. Jack's presence became so unbearable, it made Osvif feel like a little child again, afraid and agonized by a demon. From this black winded and faceless creature came an excruciating barbarously sound, as he faced the ceiling, clenching his fists harshly, causing blood to spilled from his palms as his yelling met a black aura that was being produced from his body. Soon, an explosion occurred that lit the entire establishment in flames, causing the ceiling to fall down on the two. ...And then there was silence. Approximately, two hours later... What was once Gwen's bathhouse, there was only a short reminisce of what it once was. Debris was everywhere, from wood to stone and of the sort. However, that wasn't everything, the place engulfed in perpetual black flames. They seemed to not be extinguishable. With that in mind, they could only be flames of hell. By now, Osvif was long gone, as he survived whatever that creature did. Only Jack remained in the debris, unconscious and almost unaware of what happened. But he would not remain asleep forever, as he abruptly woke up and debris fell down his back. "What..?" he asked himself, as he turned around. His clothes were a bit torn apart and damaged, but they were still wearable only a little scoffed and dirtied. He stepped out of the debris and out in the open. He glanced at his surroundings. Not even the innocent snow could put to ash the accursed flames of hell. "What have I've done...?" he said in shock, before realizing that he must have been the only one here. He couldn't sense Osvif or Gwen. At least, no one was caught in the attack. Now, what bothered him was a good explanation as to why Gwen's place blew up. He crossed his arms, pondering about it. "I'll just put the blame on Osvif," he said, as he walked toward his scythe, grasping it. "I can't have her know about my... " he didn't dare to finish that sentence. Whatever was inside Jack, it was something serious. It was a matter of trust and understanding that Jack would not want to share his biggest secret with everyone. After all, he didn't trust Gwen enough to be so foolish to tell her everything. There were some things that were best left alone to his knowledge. It could bet that even Gwen had secrets as important as his, that she kept away, deep into her heart and locked, to never be known or spoken of again. He sighed as he sat his scythe on his right shoulder, before walking up to a boulder and sat down, waiting. Maybe Gwen would show up. @Eternity
  3. Greetings and welcome! This will be the OOC Chatter Thread where we can plan stuff and discuss about the roleplay, as well as, throw in suggestions to better improve the roleplay and whatnot. @amenities, @Zashiii, @danzilla3, @Walk Among The Abyss, @carrionjackal, @Die Shize, @Djinn&Juice and @DarkHorse (DarkHorse make sure to let that other player know this is the OOC Thread)
  4. The Devil’s Advocate, a dangerous contract killer that did about any job for the right price. And now, he was running along with an organization that likes to call themselves “The Dead” and to add on top of that. They wore masks that resembled a skull. If he was going to be honest, he fit in quite well with these people. They were like him… freaks of nature. Society's outcasts, outlaws, and even more. However, freaks they may be. In his eyes, they were people of some slight renown. Before he embarked on this mission, there was a meeting that not only involved him but other individuals as well. Some had ties with the Dead, others did not but still wished to work, so that they may get a quick buck out of it. The essentials were simple to understand. Get to Corum. Plant the Totem of Alignak. And get out. Only if the Devil’s Advocate would believe it to be so easy. Maybe they could even form some sort of connection with the people of Corum. They’re known as Vati. People with… Song Powers. That’s the best way Morgan could describe them. Unexpectedly, Morgan would be the so-called “leader” of this operation. He didn’t care much. But he cared about the people he worked with, since he demanded from them complete obedience. His orders are not to be questioned. Because, unlike some, he knows what he is doing. (The music that is being played on the ship) The briefing was a few hours ago, now the Squad was in a spaceship of some sorts. It was enormous. Rich and advanced in technology. If anyone asked him where he got this ship. He would tell them not to ask him. The ship even carried Morgan’s friend. Scarlet Devil Barbatos. He was in the far back, right in the ship’s hangar. The NS was on power-down, resting on his knees while some robots did maintenance on him. The Squad Members had a place where they could relax while the ship carried them toward their destination. It felt like a living room, only the image was broken the moment one spot a bar station on the far right. There was a Bartender and everything. The place was busy, especially with the loud music playing in the background. It gave a friendly vibe to everyone inside; the place felt cozy. There were other things inside the ship, such as an armory room, and all the sorts that a ship needed. However, Morgan believed he made it clear to them to absolutely not touch anything. He clearly had some trust issues, or maybe he didn’t like people not minding their own business. Talking about business, Morgan was in the bridge deck or to be more precise the piloting room. When he walked inside, an old friend greeted him as they exchanged glances. “Morgan, you son of a bitch!” he calls, as the man walked toward him and Morgan did the same. The two grabbed onto one another’s hand, their muscles flexing. But the man, also known as Reyes, was struggling to keep the strength contest a contest, as sweat began building up. “I told you to never call me that, Reyes,” Morgan commented. Reyes’ hand was shaking, his breathing racked up as he stared him in… well, not the eyes but the visor. “Oh come on Morton, you know I never give up,” he said with a stoic expression. “Maybe you should,” Morgan replied, as he began forcing through. “Okay, okay!” Reyes let go of his hand, as he chuckled, before patting his friend’s shoulder. “Damn you and your doohickey things.” Morgan chuckled as he walked toward the control panel. “They’re not doohickeys, Reyes. They’re called nanobots,” he looked at him. ”And for your information, I didn’t even use them,” he had a smirk on his face. His visor hid that. “Glad to hear you are not slacking your arm days,” Reyes said, as he approached him. “Okay, Cap’n, where to?” he asked. The Devil’s Advocate quickly worked on the holographic keyboard, as a flying path and map appeared in front of the two. Reyes could see their ship and then the destination. It was quite far away, but they’ll make it there, eventually. But he glanced at Morgan, confused. “I’ve never seen that place before… what’s it called.. UHM.. “ he squinted his eyes, “... Co-Cor..” “Corum,” Morgan said. “I’ve never been to this place before either. The group I’m working with. The Dead. Gave me the information. So far, what I know is Corum’s inhabitants have… song powers,” he cringed at the term, but he did not find any better either. “The City itself resides on a small island in the realm of Terrestria. They’ve told me it resembles a dense jungle. You can easily get lost,” he explained. Reyes chuckled, “song powers?” he asked, “in a big ass Jungle? You sure they’re not some monkeys?” He rolled his eyes. “I did not come up with it,” he stated in a heated voice. “And no, I don’t think so, Reyes.” Reyes lifted his hands, “okay, okay, Advocate, I was just sayin’,” he mentioned. “So, you want me to fly this baby all the way there, right?” he asked. “Right,” Morgan turned and looked at him. “Try not to crash my ship again,” he warned before he walked away from Reyes, leaving him with the warning. “Oh, come on, whenever did I crash your ship?!” he yelled out to him. “Do not make me answer that, Reyes!” he said as he exited the bridge. @amenities, @Zashiii, @danzilla3, @Djinn&Juice, @DarkHorse, @Greenmntman
  5. All right peeps, the day has come so far. I have the post and thread all ready to go, I'm just one click away from it. All I need to know, is if you guys are still interested in this? So @Zashiii, @danzilla3, @Walk Among The Abyss, @carrionjackal, @Djinn&Juice and @Die Shize, I would appreciate it if you'd let me know.
  6. "When the rose is faded, Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed, And the sweet smell gone. The vanishing loveliness, That burdening breath, No bond of life hath then, Nor grief of death. 'Tis the immortal thought Whose passion still Makes the changing The unchangeable. Oh, thus thy beauty, Loveliest on earth to me, Dark with no sorrow, shines And burns, with thee…"
  7. I am the foundation of my writing. Imagination flows in my body and motivation is what keeps me going. I have created over a thousand stories. Unaware of the beginning, nor aware of the end. Withstood idleness to create many stories. Yet, my flame never ends. I have no regrets. This is the only way. My whole life was Unlimited Writing...
  8. How could he had not seen this from a mile away? Oh, how foolish sometimes he can be. Jack was so entitled in getting what he wanted, that he forgot to step back and acknowledge the situation. Gwen wasn't some kind of women where you could easily seduce. She needed something in return, something that she could gain from. Perhaps, he should have let his mouth speak that sooner rather than later. But he enjoyed playing the jester with her. He didn't feel any shame that he was playing her like game. After all, she was toying with him as well, with her subtle movements and room to fantasize about what she was going to do. And now, it appeared that the two got what they wanted from the other. Jack faced her as she faced him, her hands resting on top of his thighs. She talked about how long it has been since she returned home, before she mentioned something about her home being destroyed. He pondered in which era she left the realm, if her age was anything to go by. Still, he couldn't place it with the lack of information. As soon as she said those words, his lips took the shape of a mischievous smirk. "I think you know what I really want," Jack leaned forward. Since she touched him first, it was only fair he'd do the same in return. He reached with his hand and grasped her chin with his palm. His delicate fingers gently grasping her soft skin as he caressed the lower part of her cheek. The intensity of his mischievousness grew. "But I'll tell you anyway," he said, as he leaned into her right ear and began whispering to her about sweet nothings and what he really wanted in great detail. As soon as he was done seducing her with those words, he pulled away not quite fully. His hand still cupped her chin, his needy eyes glanced deeply into her own. "Indeed, I've mastered all forms of pleasure, Gwen," he spoke, as his thumb rubbed against her upper lip with the surface of his fingerprint. His thumb continued to roam around the surface of her lip, pressing his thumb against her soft flesh before coming to the end corner. He turned his thumb around and brushed his thumb across her lower lip in a slow teasing way. Jack glanced at her lips before back to her eyes as he leaned forward. Jack's lips parted as he neared the distance between his own and Gwen's. Their lips would meet eventfully in a splendorous kiss, as his lips molded with hers, his eyes closing in the process to enjoy such a moment between the two. Alas, that sweet moment was interrupted by the door being abruptly opened. Jack pulled away and turned around, he saw the silhouette of a tall man holding a greatsword in his dominant hand. "Jack, you half-bastard, I've finally found ya!" Osvif roared, as his blade suddenly shined brightly. Osvif held the hilt of his blade with both his hands and slashed with it in the air. His greatsword projected a vertical energy slash that came toward the two. Jack turned around and looked at her. "Get down!" Jack yelled as he jumped into her and fell with her on the ground, saving them in the process. However, her display of drinks weren't so fortunate as the two as a small explosion erupted from the impact of the attack. Jack was on top of Gwen before he averted his eyes back at her. "This guy means business," he said. "He won't stop until I'm dead. I don't have much time to explain, only that I didn't know he will be coming here," he quickly spoke. "I'll distract him, meanwhile, find a way to get the hell out of here," he got off of her and quickly turned around to confront another barrage of light. "Fiat voluntas mea protegas me," he chanted a spell as a shield manifested itself from his magical energy before it tanked the impact of Osvif's attack. "What the hell are you doing here, Osvif?" he demandingly asked. "Oh, did I interrupt your play time with that whore?!" Osvif yelled, as he gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and charged toward him. Jack was at slight disadvantage due to how the room was. He couldn't fight with his powers in here, otherwise, he could risk bringing this whole thing down. But he could stall him, in hopes that Gwen would get out of here. Unless, she was bold enough to confront him but the risk of this place collapsing on them was still a imminent. Jack stopped Osvif from progressing further, as the hilt of his scythe clashed against the edge of his divine blade. The wooden ground cracked underneath Jack as Osvif appeared to be physically overpowering him. Small flames ignited from their weapons rubbing against each other, as the two glanced in each other's eyes. @Eternity
  9. Doctor Morton, while holding a suitcase with his right hand, watched how Natalie hesitantly answered him while struggling to do her job. She looked as if she was in need of a strong hand to help her out with her task but he couldn't help her unfortunately. He was but a scrawny, normal, doctor that didn't appear nor was he expected to do much weight lifting. Of course, that was just a role he needed to play because he could have easily dealt with that by himself. But he played the part and he shrugged. "Apologies but I'm not best suited for that kind of work," Doctor Morton said. Unfortunately, Doctor Morton had to stand watch as a conversation sparked between Natalie and the one that called themselves Private Sanders. He glanced at the young man and if felt like staring into an older mirror as he remembered the days where he was once a private. Funny how things have changed. Now he was a contracted killer and robot pilot that left carnage in its way. With that being said, he waited for things to get situated as Private Sanders jumped in on the action and held on the back of the poles, before they could hit the ground. The two exchanged names between each other and then she glanced his way, assumingly waiting for him to share his name as well. He stared back at her and it took him a moment to realize what that stare meant. "Oh, my name is Doctor Morgan Morton," he said as he approached the two. "Pleasure to meet you. As my title implies, I'm a doctor that will help with the wounded," he mentioned. The Doctor looked around. "Truly, we'll need the tents so I can properly attend to the wounded," he replied.
  10. A man such as Osvif that radiated dominance and a demanding feel wasn't to be trifled with. The moment he commanded the receptionist to hand him information, it happened instantaneously. It relieved him that was the case. Osvif didn't feel like killing civilians in his line of duty. He was here for a reason. His heavy hand grabbed the book and his hefty index-finger searched through the list of names the establishment had. In his head he constantly muttered the name of "Jack O'Neal" because he had a feeling he'd put his name like that on the list. His amber hues searched and searched until his finger stopped on that one name called Jack O'Neal. He had found him. Osvif knew his senses did not play tricks on him. He went to guess that Jack was still inside this bathhouse. The only problem remained was the fact that he may get into some altercation with the owner of this bathhouse. Of course, his first option isn't to kill the owner, but that would come much later into play should they prove to be uncooperative. But if he knew Jack, then this battle would turn into a bloody mess. He almost felt sorry for these folks. His heavy and suffocating stare averted back on the receptionist. "Thank you for your cooperation," the man said, much to anyone's surprise that he could be formal. Osvif closed the book and gave it, placed it back on the counter. He didn't believe anyone would interfere in his search and if anyone had half of a brain; it was best to not get into this man's way. He turned slightly around and walked further into the establishment. Prior to given the book back, he had memorized the number of the room he was in. Finally, after so many years, Osvif could deliver the finishing blow to his enemy. This time he won't escape his grasps, not like the last time. He was prepared and knew exactly what he wanted to do. The ground lightly shook with his heavy boots stomping the ground. He continued his search for Jack and eventually as he stumbled upon his room; he tightened his grip, his right hand forming a fist that cracked his knuckles loudly. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils before exhaling the air, as Osvif reached out with his hand and gripped the doorknob. His right hand was ready to get his powerful weapon out the moment he spotted him. However, much to his surprise when he opened the room, he could see that no one was inside. His expression furiously changed with anger. He barged inside the room fully now as he unsheathed his sword. The sharp edges of the blade cut through the air, creating a soft screeching sound. The cast of the blade had its own shimmering light that continued to illuminate its presence. Osvif prioritized caution with his steps, his eyes examining the surroundings of the room he was in. Unfortunately, he did not find Jack in here, which allowed him to sheath his sword back into its scabbard. He exhaled in frustration as the only thing that remained for him to do was to explore the room for any vital information. Upon further investigation, Osvif found nothing that interested him. So, he took his amulet that could track down demons, and it the green light gently glowed hastily. He turned around and walked outside the room before he followed the path that the amulet paved for him. That threat Gwen was sensing was nearing itself quickly toward her chambers. Meanwhile... Even if things didn't go the way Jack wanted, his conversation with Gwen was definitely most intriguing. It went so far that Gwen had shown her significance with a small amount of flex that her personal affairs with other men did not leave her empty-handed. She informed him about an archway with a rune that was a portal that allowed a pathway to a kingdom ruled by an emperor. She was a woman with connections, that much was certain. "Oh, great emperor, you say?" he jested to that comment. "For what it's worth, it is impressive," he nodded his head, not denying that fact. Naturally, it raised the question of what he could give her. He was powerful and she wouldn't dare to question it, but she needed something different from just raw muscle. Fortunately for him, he was the Prince of the Inferno Realm, also known by common folk as Hell. It would be in their great interest if they formed some relation that would allow them to relay on each other. There were many benefits from a deal such as this if they realized it. But their conversation set nothing in stone and it was mostly about Jack getting to know this Demoness called Gwen, that interested him. Even Gwen had to admit that Jack was right, as she enjoyed the sensations her little fun could bring. He nodded his head in agreement, "a soul naturally seeks pleasure, Gwen, consciously or not..." he mentioned as he let those words ponder in her head. With him revealing his actual age and heritage, it cast a greater light on him. He had an impeccable knowledge about things such as this. Surely, if she was interested to find more about what he knew, she only needed to seek the answers out by questioning. Jack had nothing to fear, thus he was like an open book for anyone to read. "With that being said," he mentioned as he grasped the glass of wine and had an elegant sip, as Gwen shed some light to her history. Her lineage was that of a demon nobles, so at one point or another they were bound to have met his great father. Jack played with the glass after he had a taste of it, the liquid inside circling once again as he stared at it. A jested smile was on his expression as he talked about her heritage. "Your name holds great meaning to us Demons. Earlier it frustrated me I did not know who you were, but now... " he paused, "I can safely say I do," he looked at her. As their conversation progressed, she suddenly leaned into him without touching him. He arched an eyebrow, wondering what was the meaning of it, as she moved in between his knees. She neared his ear and whispered to him. She knew he was coming here. Jack slowly averted his gaze on her. Their faces were close, only inches away. His priceless look made him appear perplexed to hear such unexpected declarations. "So, you are a gifted Demon with clairvoyance," he said as he composed himself, before drinking the rest of the wine and placed the glass back down. "That doesn't explain everything, of course, but..." he looked at her with a smirk on his face, "here is a little thought I had occurring in my mind while you were talking about, your precious men not leaving you empty-handed," he said. "As you can tell I am of royalty, because my old man is the current King of our birthplace. Much has changed since you last came there, if I may, it may have changed even more since I've last visited. I take it you know that our kind has much progressed over the years. However, we can never achieve the pinnacle like the Demons of Old did," he said. The Demons of Old were known to Demons to be their so-called Genesis. Unfortunately, not every record was restored, but what the current Demons knew was that they were highly advanced both in magic and in technology. It was a goal and a dream that each King tried to chase and accomplish, but the sad reality was that they may never achieve that perfection again. But that is not to say they didn't make sure to fill in on their shortcomings. Now, their realm is a cosmopolitan metropolis with a democratic demon hierarchy. "What I offer is simple, Gwen," Jack said. "You'll have the support from the King and you will regain your noble rights back. This means not only you will be allowed to enter Hell via a simple portal whenever you wish, you'll also have access to the finest of materials and its unique metals. Of course, that's not the only thing you will gain as a noble, but you get the picture," he mentioned. "In this deal, I get what I want and you get what you want and that is more power. Now how's that for leaving you full handed, hmm?" his tone peaked as he waited for her response. @Eternity
  11. It may or may not have been a little strange for the Devil's Advocate - of all people - to join such a humanitarian mission. After all, wouldn't a contracted killer eliminate any sort of feeling that would prevent them from finally unleashing the final blow? Well, 'tis a question that only had one simple answer; life is an actor's job and one needed to put on any role, so that they could fit the mold. But the world wasn't a white and black view, as many, would like to believe. Which could only mean that the Devil's Advocate had some sort of - twisted soul - inside, dark, and twisted, but a soul nevertheless. The news of him being a physician were most likely unexpected when he had to report on whether he was the right "fit" for this mission or not. And much to anyone's surprise he was. Nevertheless, he was here for a reason. His view on the matter was a peculiar one and it was even more interesting that the Dead, had their noses in everybody's business. But there were some boundaries even he would not let them cross. Such as, him not truly showing his real identity to them. On this particular assignment, he would be known as Doctor Morton. He even had the sheet and everything that depicted him as a doctor. It furthermore eased him into this humanitarian group. He didn't stood out from the group, as a matter of fact, he blended in quite well. Doctor Morton was wearing a pair of black, unbranded, shoes with a pair of grey pants on his legs. In addition to that, he wore a light grey t-shirt and like any doctor. He had his laboratory white coat on, the most important and crucial aspect to a doctor's outfit. His face, that was not his own to claim. It was purely made out of his advanced nanotechnological bots. The only one who knew it was not his actual face and body type, would be Morgan himself. His complexion was rather a pale one, with a casual, messy hair, that any doctor could have. He wore a neutral and unexciting cast with slim cheeks, sharp chin, and brown, ordinary hues. With him, he had everything that a physician needed. Such as a doctor's tools as well as an aid kit. Of course, he had more advanced medical support, that being his suit that was a part of him, as well as his Scarlet A.I that could have helped him furthermore on his task as a physician. But the assignment clearly stated that they needed to appear as normal people. So, it was reassuring, that this would be a non-combat recon mission. His job like any other subordinate, was to scout out any information in regards to the Arch-Demon attack, anything to intel from the locals, and evidence, as well as samples if there were any left from such a vile creature. To him this felt like vacation, as he didn't need to feel worried about someone constantly shooting him - or a giant ass robot - trying to kill him. For all intents and purposes, this mission had some sort of meaning to him. That he, naturally, didn't want to share with anyone. But, he would not stand in a place and not do anything. Just as Jacob Natalie gave out the orders, the doctor glanced her way and spoke in a different, natural, and kinder tone than previously when he was the Devil's Advocate. "Ms. Natalie, would you need my assistents or am I free to roam and help out as a doctor?" he asked.
  12. There was silence… In that silence, the echoes of weapons clashing on each other were heard. A breath was taken… A step was made… Yet neither of these warriors appeared to be making any crucial mistake. That would inevitably, give the other, the upper hand in this battle. Jack and Osvif were arguably at it for almost an hour. As Jack’s scythe clashed with Osvif’s blade, fire cracking, metal screeching while the two seemed to have locked themselves in a never-ending stalemate. But a smirk found its way on Jack’s lips, which wasn’t ignored by Osvif. “What are you smirking at?” he asked, pushing his guard further, appearing to have the so-called ‘high ground’, on Jack. While he held onto the handle of his scythe. Both of their weapons pressing against each other, their hold shaking as they struggled to overcome the other. “Nothing,” he said, “it’s just the look on your face. I can’t look at you with a straight face.” He chuckled. Continuously he was mocking and toying with the Warrior of Truth. Still, it wasn’t the fact that Jack was the one doing it. He was upset with himself that he was such a fool to allow himself, to sink so low. He gritted his teeth, alongside his facial expression changing with his eyebrows furrowing in a furious manner. “You WILL take me seriously!” Osvif declared, as the tip of his sword channeled lightning throughout the blade. Jack’s smirk suddenly left him, totally devoured by the unexpected and shocked expression on his cast. He stepped back, his spine arching backward while he held onto his scythe’s grip tighter. Osvif began overpowering their weapons lock. Now, the differences in strength were clear as day. Lightning chained itself on the length of his blade. He pushed with one step forward, while Jack took one back. He continued to pressure him into a tight corner. His overall size imposed itself on his smaller build. A vein on his temple bulged, as blood rushed through. “Release…” Osvif chanted a spell. “No, don’t!” Jack demanded. “... Element!!!” Release Element was one of the two abilities his blade had. This one allowed him to channel as much lightning as he wanted, and then, he could release it all in a devastating attack. Granted, it did release all of its absorbed energy. However, it was necessary to Osvif if he wished to defeat Jack. And with the spell finally being chanted, a gigantic lightning bolt shot on the tip of his sword. Before a bright light flashed in a large radius that blinded everyone for a few long moments. Electricity disbursed from his sword in a violent manner. The ground beneath them was cracking with the lighting surges going through them. The overwhelming release of his sword caught Jack by surprise. As the surge of lighting passed through him. The blinding light would have continued to remain prominent at this moment. With the release of the lightning, a massive concussive explosion came with it. The explosion pushed Jack several feet away from Osvif, as the blinding light disappeared. And he was left there with smoke ashing away from his body. He visibly panted. One might say that attack knocked the wind out of him. As Osvif appeared in front of him. He slashed with his sword across his chest, thus inflicting a cut on his pectoral chest. In the moment of his momentum, he left himself being carried away, as he turned around and swung his leg, kicking Jack a few paces away. Without letting up, he charged into him again. Osvif swung his blade and gauzed Jack’s left thigh, as a yell erupted from the Half-Demon’s mouth, together with a few splats of blood. The Warrior proceeded with his onslaught but Jack growled and willed himself to dash back, thus dodging a deadly attack from Osvif. He wasn’t going to lie to himself. He greatly underestimated Osvif. He didn’t remember he was that willing to fight him but this proved him wrong. There were only two ways this could end. Either Jack unleashed his forbidden power or Osvif will have his head! And that, he did not oblige by at all. However, before he could react, Osvif was two steps ahead of him. As he prepared himself and swung a devastating kick that dropped the Prince of Hell down onto his feet. “Pathetic!” he calls, “and to think, that I thought you once, as the greatest of Demons,” he said with a disappointed tone. “Be that as it may, you no longer live up to your former self!” he held his sword up high and he swung blade downward. And then, it happened… He could see it, in that dark tunnel, he was in. He could see an even darker version of himself. It was his greatest curse. A curse that only a half-breed such as he could endure. His dark self stared at him, it was as if he was staring himself into a mirror and he smirked at him. And just as Osvif’s blade was about to connect with his head. His eyes glowed even brighter. They were two pupils that manifested the whiteness of the moon itself. In a supernatural speed, he brought his scythe and his swings ruptured from his back, and they widely spread themselves, before they flapped and Jack moved at incredible speeds. To the mere naked eye, it would have been as if a lightning bolt struck him and teleported him on the other side. He was now behind Osvif, who didn’t even go full-on through with his attack. He glanced behind him, as he could see those ominous black wings. His complexion was completely pale and his cast was inexplicably perplexed. Osvif’s very soul felt attacked and oppressed. His legs were frozen together with his entire body. He struggled to turn around, only to see a gauzing wound on his abdominals. “Oh… you… bastard…” Osvif calls, as blood blasted through, splattering the ground with it, as he fell on his feet. With Kimiko undoubtedly watching, she couldn’t make out what happened. Only that Jack moved at incredible speeds that made him appear as if he teleported from one place to another. As a scythe slashed through the abdominal region of Osvif. And now, the battle was over with Jack being the victor. Although, not at a cost, as he stood and watched Osvif. His pale skin was overshadowed by his long hair, while his eyes glowed terrifyingly bright. “Tss,” that was all that came out of his mouth, as he turned around with his wings disappearing out of existence, together with his scythe. However, he could feel the struggles of the man. “This… is… not… over, Jack,” Osvif declared. “I will kill you,” he said. “No, you will not,” Jack retorted. With that being said, Jack continued his approach towards Kimiko. The one that this fuss was all about. He slowly walked up to her, his expression bore nothing but a fit of unsettling anger. “Let us go,” he told her.
  13. Well, I'll just reveal the beans before they hatch. So essentially, the Dead, are looking to expand their power. As perusal. And so, we've set our eyes on Corum. The mission will consist of us, placing a Totem of Alignak. The mission is simple. Get in, place the Totem in a place that, hopefully, will stay there until the end of time, and get out. My friend, @amenities, entrusted me with the leadership on this one. Meaning, I will be your Gamemaster/Dungeonmaster. Unfortunately, @Die Shize, I'm not looking for you to be the main antagonist. However, you don't have to be a good doer, just like this thread implies. We want Evil Geniuses, Politicians, and Assassins. Of course, I believe that is not only limited to that. It's there to give you an idea of what we're looking for. So, essentially, you can be anything you want and directly or indirectly help us through... what I like to call "Jungle Mission". If you are not really a team player, then you can play as a character that can give us a hard time completing our objective. However, that character won't be as prominent as the main antagonist that I will be playing. I've already discussed with @-Lilium-, the creator of Corum. And I like to think, I have a nice surprise in store for you guys. You will not only be tested physically but emotionally and spiritually. If this all would be an easy mission, where would be the fun in that? Anyway, I hope some of you who have shown interest in this, actually join in. And I promise, that you will receive, perhaps not the greatest of journeys, but one that you may look fondly back at. Or not, who knows. I'm not capable of seeing into the future. All I can do is hope for the best and do my best! So if you have faith in me. Then, what are we waiting for?
  14. Upon the drive opening up all of its content. Aiden took a closer look on what it had. He could see packed things in different files that were all organized by file type. A smirk donned on his lips as he laid back. This was definitely much easier now since John Wilder took the liberty to be so helpful. He guessed John really wanted this mission to be done and dealt with. In truth, he couldn't blame him. After all, if he was in John's place and had to repair such a massive mess up. He'll want to get this quickly as done as possible. Unfortunately, Aiden wasn't some kind of Superman either. So this mission may take a bit. However, before he could do his proper research someone knocked on the door. Aiden turned his glare at the door, before returning his attention on his monitor before minimizing the tab file. He turned around. "Come in," he said, wondering who was knocking on his door. It was either his mother announcing dinner or his little sister that visited him every once in a while. Mostly when she was bored. The door knob slowly moved and the door clicked, unlocking, as a dim of light shimmered throughout the outlines of the door. The darkness in Aiden's room became more evident by the bright light form outside his room. When the door was fully opened, he could see his litter sister. She rocked one of his old sweatshirts. One could say that the two were very close as siblings. It should have been obvious, since he was doing such dangerous jobs to find a cure for her... She wasn't physically disabled or anything. But she had an internal illness that was killing her slowly. The doctors didn't give her much. A few years or so. She'll be lucky if she turned eighteen... and she wasn't even thirteen yet. Either way, she was dying slowly and he didn't want to see her gone. Aiden knew of only one way to cure her illness. Fortunately for him, he knew a way but it required a lot of money and... he didn't have that kind of luxury. Aiden sighed in relief as he laid back against his chair, gently crossing his legs as he glanced at his little sister walking into his room. "Big brother.." she spoke with a innocent voice, as she tilted her head slightly and gently stuck her tongue out, staring at him for a moment or two. "Hey, Cecily, how are you feeling today?" her brother asked her. Cecily walked towards him, tipping her weight on each toe as she walked to him. She kept her hands into her sweatshirt. "I'm feeling fine, big brother," she said, her voice continued to be sweet and innocent. Aiden smiled kindly at her, as he placed his hand on her head and gently gave her a brotherly pat. Cecily noticed her brother was doing something on his computer. It caught her curiosity and she tilted her head, and stuck her tongue out a bit. "What are you doing, big brother?" she asked curiously. Aiden blinked surprised as he stared as his monitor, before looking back at her. "Oh, just doing my usual stuff. Watching youtube... playing games, you know, the usual," he shrugged indifferently. "Oh, okay," she nodded her head. "Well, I just wanted to check up on you," she said. He smiled, "I'm glad," he said. "Thank you but now I'll get busy with a project of mine, so you need to go out of my room now," he mentioned. Cecily pouted noticeably, he couldn't lie, it was kind of cute. "I want to spend time with my big brother!" she retorted. "I want to watch movies with you!" she said. "We will, later, promise, okay?" he asked. She crossed her arms and looked away, tilting her nose up in the air. "Promise?" she kept her pouting face, one of her closed eyes open and gave him a sly look. "Promise, pinky promise," he stretched his pinky finger. Cecily seemed to be visibly happy, as she reached out with her pinky and wrapped it around his. "Yay!" she smiled, before she rushed out of his room with a big happy smile on her face. Once the door was closed. The innocent world of Cecily Barron left Aiden into the perpetual dark and unforgivable world that was his reality. He sighed, as he turned around with his chair and averted his concentration back at the matter at hand. He had a job to do and he couldn't use his time off slacking with his little sister. Even as much as he'd like to do so. "All right, where were we?" he asked himself before he popped the tab back. Aiden started out with the videos, as they were the most easiest to get rid off. He watched a few videos and saw the clips of various trials the suit underwent through. The ATLAS was outrunning vehicles, smashing through buildings, bounding between buildings, and shrugging off hits from various weapons. Aiden leaned back, with his arm across against his chest, while his elbow sat on his palm, with his index finger lightly tapping his upper lip. "Well that is... unexpected," he muttered. "A suit that can outrun vehicles, break concrete walls as if it were nothing, jump in between buildings and is bulletproof? I wonder if any high caliber rounds could crack that armor. For what is worth... an individual like me, would have a hard time trying to outstrength the suit," he said. "That is if I ever enter into such a conflict," he mentioned before he could see another video where the ATLAS suit destroyed the various drones, that didn't even came close to put a scratch on it. He wasn't afraid but he definitely was worried. Even the name ATLAS sounded suspicious. From what he knows the name Atlas is essentially an Ancient Greek one. It belonged to the notorious Titan God of Endurance and Strength. Now, he may look into this way deeper than he should. But what if, the suit is supposed to resemble just that? The possibility was there. The suit did superhuman feats with ease. Things became more interesting for Aiden when he went onto the audio files. They were only split between brainstorming sessions and personal audio diaries from the developer team. But one name stand out to him the most. Krassic. According to what he had on him. He was a researcher who was starting to act strangely. Eventually, his co-workers became suspicious of him and eventually he was fired. "Aha..." he slightly smirked, his white teeth skimmering through his lips. "Could it be that Krassic took his revenge by stealing this ATLAS suit from John?" he asked, as he laid further back into his chair. He reached out with his left hand, spreading out as if he was reaching for something while he stared at the ceiling. "Yeah, that makes sense!" he calls. "If this project was top secret," he mentioned. "Which I undoubtedly believe it was," he said. "This means Krassic is responsible," he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and stared at his monitor. "However, if I could come up with this conclusion. Then how come John didn't?" he asked. "He is significantly smarter than me," he bitterly mentioned. "Or perhaps he does, but he doesn't have any proof. But, there is enough proof that there is a traitor amongst their ranks. Someone leaked the information and so the ATLAS suit was stolen. That's the only plausible solution. Unless, I'm being played like a pawn and it was handed out willingly." "I need to remain vigilant," he said to himself as he searched further through the files, until he found the document at the end that was a memo calling for a reevaluation of the suit's power core. The document also revealed that the suit required a specialized power source that was only found in one factory. "Let's see..." he searched further into this specific factory, getting all of its possible information. @danzilla3
  15. As expected, John Wilder, of all people in New Everrun, didn't have problems with money. For all intents and purposes, he was just a rich bastard who thought freerunning was for fun. How wrong he was. He didn't take it seriously as Aiden did. For him... this wasn't just a hobby. It was his way of making savings for his sister to help her live! Even now, he just felt insulted by this man who stood before him. If he wasn't in need of money... if all of this wasn't important to him. He'd punch John Wilder in the gut for insulting him right now. Perhaps, he didn't try to insult him directly, but indirectly, he felt like a pawn that was used by a higherup such as John Wilder. People like him thought the world circled around them, and that it played and danced on their fingertips. He detested people like him. People who taught they could do what they wanted, because they had a higher status. But he may be looking into this far deeper than he should have. It didn't seem that the rabbit hole went deeper on this one than it was. "Under your protection... you say?" he asked, as he averted his gaze slightly up him, since he was glancing at the ground, his posture was slightly hunched. In truth, he didn't know who John Wilder truly was. He only knew him from the covers and mostly the news. He didn't know about his background. Aiden wasn't as resourceful as he was, so he couldn't get that kind of knowledge about him. Even now, he was more than weary as he thought that John may know who this "Bon" character really is. If he knew his true identity, then he was in trouble. What if he refused to help him? What then? Would he turn him in on the law? He couldn't allow that, no matter the circumstances. Aiden refused to do jail. So he had to play his cards right this time, what a pain. Nevertheless, John told him that if he would find himself in trouble, there was a personal comm frequency that he could use from that drive. He just needed to call him and he'll bail him out. However, there was a catch, and as perusal, Aiden saw it coming. Since he was born, he learned something in this world. Nothing came for free and out of the kindness of people's hearts. That would be living in a fantasy world, a dreaming reality that optimistic weebs like those volks still like to believe. Aiden knew the truth... and the truth was always so hard to bear. But, he'd have rather the truth than full on lies. "Right, I'll keep that in mind," Aiden said with a serious tone. "I didn't know calling in the calvary was so pricey," he brought in some dry humor in the conversation for a moment. While John Wilder exposed his back to him, Aiden kept a sharp eye on him as he walked over the edge of the building, stopping in his tracks and looking at Aiden. And then... John Wilder proved his every suspicion right. He knew who he was... goddammit. How did this bastard know who he was? His face became more paler than before. Since he already was pale by default, it was still noticeable that something in him... clicked... and not in a good way. His curled fingers began twitching as he revealed to him why he worked with outlaws like him. Because nobody cared about them, and if he stepped out of his boundaries. He will be facing John Wilder next. The bastard dared threatening him?! But then again... he indirectly threatened him as well, so maybe it was his way of calling each other even. And as he walked off the edge, plummeting to the ground in matter of seconds. Aiden ran over to see that he waved at him, while walking into a car that waited for them. "Touche..." he said with a smirk. Right after, Aiden didn't waste much time and he got to moving. He had little time to spare now, so he made his way back home. Once he was inside his house, he walked inside his room undetected by his family. While closing the door in the most quiet way he could manage, he approached his desk and he sat down. He reached out for the drive and he plugged it inside his computer and he opened it. "All right, let's see with what I'm up against," he said. @danzilla3
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