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Deus Ex Aizen

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About Deus Ex Aizen

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    Pineapple Princess
  • Birthday 07/16/1989

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  1. The Golden Jackal

    Oooh, okay. That is good to know.
  2. Festival of Lights - Updated

    All the style in the warudo.
  3. The Raid

    Always welcome. I expect posting to be casual. The group is small enough so far that I don't see a need for a posting order, but one can be created if requested. And Lichs are p-awesome. I sometimes think of this as a less hostile Suicide Squad. Rae's no stranger to mercenaries, she did marry one at some point in her life. But I've always wanted to employ a splinter group for less than savory work. Figured invading a tech-filled island and stealing said tech was a good place to start.
  4. The Raid

    Man...we need a name for this little group...
  5. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    I haven't checked to see how Will and Grace is doing, but mom and I tune in every week to see it. It remains true to the original style and cast, but I do feel like it's more politically biased in that--if it doesn't back off of that, it may shoot itself in the foot like that other show Tim Allen was in that was speculated to be tanked because of its political agenda. Shit, even Trading Spaces has made a comeback.
  6. Hanami - Flower Festival [OPEN]

    “You may.” She could feel it when she took his hand. The worry—like a babbling brook of emotions that cascaded over his form. A tinge of stress from working, but less severe than it had been before. “Most people,” She joked with him, “Only live once. It’s only fair that you make something good and real for yourself.” By habit, Raveena looked around them, studying their surroundings. The Festival was in full swing, but the last time she and her son had decided to dance, they had been interrupted. Here, there was life—from the mundane to the supernatural. Everyone was celebrating, here. In truth, Raveena loved to dance. Dancing was the one thing she would never let her people forget, and had invested a great deal of time and money in the renaissance of the Matreyan culture, meshing it with Terran culture for adaptation and survival. Dancing, however, was a must! It was the way Matreyans spoke when words could not be said. She was graceful, the lithe of her stride revealing itself. And though Raveena had become every bit the royal and Imperial that her father Rafael had schooled her to be, the grace of her movement was preternatural and well-cherished within the Hyperian realm. She did smile—and practically glowed that she could join her son—and so they danced and enjoyed one another’s company. “We have a home in the Rising West, now. I imagine it will be a lovely retreat for Rowan and I, but it will also be the largest functioning port that side of the continent that is outside my father’s rule. It’s time I return my people to their roots along the coast. They will flourish there, it’s in their blood.” The gentle sway of their dancing was pleasant enough to remind Raveena that she was a considerably lucky woman. Hyperion was nearing its completion, and soon the Festival of Lights would kick off. The Parade of Worlds would showcase beautiful cities from across Valucre. She would bring the world to her people and show her what it was that they could aspire to see with their very own eyes. The People’s Queen, they had taken to calling her. Port Kyros and Alethea were successful acquisitions, boosting both her air and naval forces. Her family was behind her all the way. She could sigh and relax for now. She had a moment to enjoy and truly appreciate the work that had been put in. She now understood why her God had been displeased by how she threw her life away, regardless of how willing she had been. There were other ways to work hard to save her people, and she had done just that. She was grateful to know that people like Grant could indulge her with the simpler things to remind her that she was still human. @danzilla3
  7. Pictures of Us

    My nephew doesn't look like a wrinkly old man anymore!
  8. Come at me...

    Fierach and I fought in Shangri-La. My favorite match was still in Budapest flying over the Danube River on a dirigible. Can fight anywhere.
  9. The Sadira Amar: Tea and Tavern

    Raveena laughed, delighted by them, “No, not a zombie. I’m very mortal. In my past life, I was a living weapon. I died approximately fifteen times while assisting in building Predator’s Keep, but this death had a little more impact. My grandmother was a very powerful sorceress who did not fully realize what she had gotten herself into when she sought to further our family line.” Raveena stood, wringing her fingers apprehensively as she began to pace around the room and explained, “I am the reincarnation of a Sefirot. Like a concept, that represents a part of something divine.” “When I had died, it was to save my then-husband from dying, and I succeeded at the cost of my own life. The God was displeased and—trickster that he was, essentially gave me new life while his brothers weren't looking. He was pleased at my readiness to do what it took, but disappointed by how easily I threw my life away. I lost ten years of my memories as a result of that death, and I will never get them back.” Raveena tilted her head back and looked thoughtful as she slowly paced around the room. She had come along way since her return to Valucre. Determined to stay away, to hole herself up in a stranger’s apartment she could not remember. “In truth, my husband and I became estranged. He was ashamed of allowing something heinous to consume him and lead him down a destructive path. We annulled our marriage and separated amicably. I then had hundreds of refugees who had lost their cultural identity. I hail from an Imperial family, but I wasn’t ready—still not ready—to make that full commitment to my duties as Empress.” She turned to both Zack and Charlie before she strode back to her seat and sat back down, her hands clasped together as she leaned into the table, “I was born from a wager between two gods to restore my people to their former glory. I was blessed with four gifts to see this through. That’s how I believe I can assist you two in what you want to accomplish. I have Hyperion here in Terrenus, Alethea and Port Kyros in the Rising West of Genesaris. And if I have my way, Port Thea in Ursa Medeum.” Raveena leaned forward and rest her lips against her clasped hands thoughtfully before she looked up, “I will have you stay here for as long as it will take me to complete this. As my guests you will have access to whatever resources you need. Tiandi has an excellent facility for training. The Bravot Library contains reading material from across the Multiverse.” Leaning back, now that she was thinking clearer, concisely, she nodded thoughtfully—as if in agreement with herself, “My courtesan is overseas at my Summer Home indefinitely. You may stay at her home here for as long as you’d like, really. If you require work in the meantime, I may have something right up your alley. Essentially, you are now protected under my jurisdiction.” Hyperion was a city about taking those who had very little, and arming them with the tools and the knowledge to make something better for themselves. Men like Zack and Charlie were her particular favorite brand of people. Smart enough to stay alive, resourceful enough to survive and make something of themselves. She had been a lot like them, from what she had been told. She smiled a tiny smile and leaned back into her seat. She thought of Andrew, her estranged husband. His life as a mercenary before she had come along, and how he had become an accomplished mage smith. This very room was once his workshop. His presence was all around, from the strange and magical to the organized chaos. She wondered where he was, now. What he did with his life. Raveena thought of Rowan, a genetically enhanced wetboy who lost his memories, who had assimilated into a life of royalty. Reform. Raveena was good at reform. Adept at seeing the good in people no matter how low they stooped. It was clear these two men had been through quite an ordeal together—and that they were indeed a package. Working for them would be a pleasure, she decided.
  10. Come at me...

    [ Salute ] My body is ready!
  11. The Sadira Amar: Tea and Tavern

    Raveena sat poised and thoughtful, her eyes closed as she listened to every detail. On the occasion that she was deeper in thought, she hummed quietly, a barely audible sound. It wasn’t until they had finished that she nodded. “Purification is ideal by the sound of it—exorcism as you call it.” She smiled a tiny smile. These two were a pair, and she was entertained by their complimenting personalities. To Charlie she nodded, “You are safe so long as you are here, but try not to let your loose tongue be heard by the wrong people. My husband is an excellent marksman and his Chimera gene doesn’t allow room for reason or mercy.” Rowan did not share. The King Consort habitually shadowed his Queen, where old habits die hard. King, Lord, Vagrant—he was her protector above all else, and the last thing she wanted was for him to misunderstand Charlie’s advances. She found him endearing, but her husband was neither kind nor patient when it came to his mate. She was his, and he took a certain sadistic joy in letting others find this out the hard way with him. Such was the nature of a beast. “I can do this. I can purge the spirit and forge the sword anew. If my God sees fit he may bless the fragments, though I can’t be certain of this.” She cocked her head, glancing up at the ceiling, “He’s a tricky thing to please, but so far I’ve done well by him, and he, I.” Raveena had heard of the horrors of Yh’mi. That these two had made it out and to Hyperion, alive was exceedingly impressive! She smiled a pleasant smile, dainty hands lacing together as she rest her chin on top, her elbows propping her up, cutting her gaze to Zack, whom she had been attentive to most of the explanation. “I like the danger of it, truthfully. My King Consort doesn’t allow me much in the way of fun anymore.” She wrinkled her nose and returned his smarmy smile with a crooked grin and a wink. “I have to put together my own splinter cell group under his nose, but alas.” Raveena sat back in her seat and sighed heavily, “I am a Psionic Sorceress, or so I am told. This is what I do in my spare time, unconventional it may be for a ruler.” Her hands unclasped and she ran them across the blueprint to smooth it out. Her pads of her fingers drummed thoughtfully along its edges as she studied the blueprint in question. It was a complicated design, that much as certain. Drew's eidetic memory had served him well when he studied designs for his invocation magic and the many artifacts it was tied to. Raveena cut a glance to an ornate dagger on the wall. It was Alistair, named for the man she had married her taught her the very skill she would use in service to these two men. “I'm self-taught, though I was apprenticed to my late husband. I’d like to think that seeing as I lasted 417 years before I was killed that my armor and artifacts have served me well.” She shrugged her shoulders and grinned broadly, “Nothing says life or death like purging evil spirits before evil and occult get their evil hands on it. What’s your current living situation?”
  12. Come at me...

    My plate is pretty full so this will give me something to look forward to, as I need to dust the rust off myself, ssssoooo. No worries. Take your time with err'thang.
  13. Come at me...

    I'll also spar ya' whenever.
  14. Hanami - Flower Festival [OPEN]

    "Hm? Aah. I'm sure it's simply my anxiety over crowds. As someone with abilities that can be triggered through touch, it can be nerve-wrecking. Old habits die hard, and my anxiety has followed me into this life as well." It was common knowledge, the Queen's Empathy. Only recently in Avalyon did she discover it was not truly Empathy--not as Psions thought it to be, as her abilities when in contact with humans and creatures paled in comparison to the full might of her gift with Dragons and their kin. To Raveena, it were as though she had been on the wrong frequency of a radio station. With people, she could only glean their emotions and on the occasion--their memories. With Dragonkin, a whole picture was painted. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories. Their sensations became her own, their eyes became her eyes. Their language, her language. It had been a cautionary brush with her nephew that had revealed such a marvel, and Raveena had since kept the result of their encounter to herself to research it further. It was not a lie, however. Crowds did leave the woman feeling less than well, for fear of being sucked into an Empathetic Stasis that she may struggle to disengage herself from. She saw it like a muscle. If she practiced it more, she could master it better. The mind was a dangerous thing, and emotions were more dangerous, still. Raveena gently patted Grant's up and smiled at him. From the day she had met him, he had been kind to her, ultimately not knowing that the man who had hired him to keep an eye on her during Himmeslfestung's rebellion had been his own father. He supported her through the elections, and assisted Rowan by joining the Web. He was so much like Rowan that she sufficed to believe that she had a glimpse into who Preta was before he had become a self-proclaimed monster. Who was Raveena to judge? In her past life she had been a martyr, a living weapon with a death wish. She, in her own right, had been a monster--a shell of a woman who had been robbed of happiness, from the loss of her family, the destruction of her home in Predator's Keep, down to her death and reincarnation. She had been given a second chance, but had been robbed of memories she would never recall. She had been told her story hundreds of times, hundreds of ways. Did it really matter in the big scheme of things? She lived now. She loved, deeply. She ruled firmly but fairly. She had a wonderful man who came into her life as someone she wanted nothing to do with, but had gotten to known, grown to love, and could not imagine a future without. She had a loving son who, despite not being her flesh and blood, deserved to be loved and cared for as a mother would. It would never ceased to move her, the way they came into her life, expecting to make a paycheck off of her, and instead gaining much more than they thought they were worthy of. But Raveena knew--they were worthy of much more. "You know," She began to tease, "This is just another occasion for us to find a leading lady for you, my sweet. You may not be my first born, but you are a member of the Imperial Family. I had to fight for my council to accept Rowan as a legitimate suitor. His blood runs in my veins now, as my blood runs through his. To question his legitimacy, is to challenge my sovereignty." She winked at him and grinned, "They did not." "And while my first born son may never take the throne, I want you to know that I don't expect you to. What I do, I was born to do. I was destined to do. It's in my blood. While I don't want to shelter you from the royal lifestyle I now live. When I invoke the Imperial Call and legitimize myself as Empress, I need you to understand that I don't want you to marry for politics, or because it's expected of you as a member of two Imperial families. I want you to find a woman--or man, or cat, elf, undead--whoever it is you choose to love. Do it because you sincerely love that person." She took a moment to admire flowers. At the sweeping petals that cascaded to the ground like snow. Of blossoms that would swivel their heads towards her--recognizing her for the Elementalist by blood that she were. Most things that occurred in nature were drawn to her--and she to them. She speculated this was why it was easy and natural to connect with La'Ruta in Orisia. "Our lives are transient, like flowers. There's too much to experience and enjoy in our mortal lives to waste it on the facade of political relationships." She rest her head on Grant's arm and sighed happily, "You know, there's talk that I allowed myself to be adopted by Rafael for political gain. So few who know me well, or at all. Rafael is the only father figure I can remember. I remember my mother and my father, but as a child who lost them too soon. It's why I place great value on family relationships and romantic ones." She pulled away from Grant, her expression serious as she eyed him warily, "Do promise me that if you ever feel pressured socially, you will tell me, won't you?" @danzilla3 @Bardic Knowledge