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Post by Shin RyuKen on Mar 28, 2012 23:39:40 GMT -5
[[Okay cool, everyone's going to show up in the evening anyway. First blood it is.]]
~Vindictus ~ Memorial Square, 2:00 PM~
"Day before festival day and ain't nobody talkin' to the wolf guy."
Vydunas walked down the side of the town's central plaza, as the giant fountain in front of him spurted ever-so aggressively and leaving crisp droplets of water on his white fur. Today was another typical day to him in wondering when the curse of his sword would ever be dispelled.
He sat on the ceramic edge of the plaza fountain and lay deep in thought. He expected someone new was going to show up today, someone new he may or may not have to take on in combat.
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Post by BloodValkyrie on Mar 29, 2012 10:27:22 GMT -5
Vindictus Memorial Square ~ 2:01 PM
A beautiful woman with pale skin and long black hair walked into the center of the town. She wore a knee-length red and black dress, complete with black arm-gloves, red and black leggings, and black shoes. A red sash was tied around her waist and flowed in the wind as she walked by. She looked around at the town's buildings as she went, observing its architecture.
Veronica knew of the oncoming festival despite her having just entered Vindictus a mere few days ago. However, she knew nothing about the actual festival itself and was walking around trying to find some hint about it. She stopped to look at the fountain, standing only a few feet away from the wolfen. She actually liked the structure of it and found it to be rather pretty. The crimson-dressed woman seemed to not notice Vydunas in the least.
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Post by Shin RyuKen on Mar 29, 2012 15:29:52 GMT -5
Vydunas just simply flickered his sight on and off and looked outward. He was rather stiff-legged and lazy, apathetic to the thought of confronting anyone on the eve of tomorrow's festival. In spite of his lethargic gait, he got up and stretched his arms.
Ignoring the fountain for a moment, he couldn't help but notice the demon girl blankly staring at the fountain behind him. He saw his fair share of unusual people stroll through the city, but none quite as questionable at this one.
Vydunas tilted his head up briefly and said, "Hey there. Don't think I've seen you around these parts. What brings you to Vindictus?"
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Post by BloodValkyrie on Mar 29, 2012 16:13:58 GMT -5
Vindictus Memorial Square
Veronica's green eyes shifted towards Vydunas, then went back to the fountain after a moment. She often chose to ignore people who spoke to her, but this particular person was...interesting. Perhaps it was because he looked more animal than man. She had actually never really seen someone such as that. This shouldn't have been surprising to anyone who knew her past though...which, thankfully, was no one. At least not in this town.
"I was merely traveling. Wandering, if you will. I heard there was some sort of festival happening here, so I arrived a few days ago to see what all the fuss was about. I still know nothing else of it though. No idea what it's celebrating or anything of the sort." Veronica sat down on the edge of the fountain as well, now turning her head towards Vydunas and giving him her full attention. "I'm guessing you live in this town?"
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Post by Shin RyuKen on Mar 29, 2012 16:23:29 GMT -5
Vydunas was getting a rather peculiar vibe from Veronica. She looked like she was a demon of some sort and probably had ulterior motives, but Vydunas didn't really look deep enough to infer any of them. It didn't help that Metus was really reacting to her at all; normally, the sword would tremble or cause Vydunas's temperature to rise. Instead, it just sort of slouched in Vydunas's sheath. Vydunas chose to ignore the blade for now and redirect his eyes to the woman that sat next to him.
"Ah, cool. You heard right, actually, there's an annual festival here every year. The town celebrates its colonial independence or something like that, and there's often a lot of free food, so of course I'd come to that." Vydunas chuckled lightly. " It's the only reason I show up to the town usually; I live way up in the mountains to the north. You probably don't see a lot of people like me because we don't migrate often. "
Vydunas was pretty casual with his tone and, despite feeling something hesitant about Veronica, offered a question to keep the conversation going. "And where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?"
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Post by BloodValkyrie on Mar 29, 2012 17:21:44 GMT -5
Vindictus Memorial Square
Veronica closed her eyes, showing more of her eyeshadow, and nodded in understanding. "Free food is always an enticing offer. That alone has convinced me to stay. I honestly couldn't care less about this town's 'independence' though." She said this flatly, with no care at all. She then began to unconsciously twist a strand of her black hair around a finger.
"As for where I am...you know of a city called Platuna?" Veronica smiled lightly as she said this. "That's where I'm from." If Vydunas was someone who kept up with current events, beyond festivals with free food, he may have known about Platuna's recent, and unexplained, destruction. The city itself was several miles away from Vindictus, quite a distance.
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Post by Shin RyuKen on Mar 29, 2012 18:33:55 GMT -5
Vydunas's voice didn't really falter at Veronica's words. Her bluntness barely struck him, even. Perhaps this was his subtle way of agreeing with her disinterest. "Heh, I understand. I haven't known what independence is like for quite some time." His eyes shifted briefly back to his katana's scabbard, and back at the woman's face with maintained composure.
However, Vydunas raised one of his scruffy eyebrows at Veronica's history. Now he knew why the woman struck him as an unusual character around these parts. "Huh, that's weird. I walked by that place on my way here, it looked like a cemetery from my point of view. Thought it was genocided or something. Are there actually survivors from whatever happened to it?"
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Post by Mayor on Mar 29, 2012 18:54:40 GMT -5
"Hey you, one of the bitches with a sword. Fight me!"
The owner of the bellow from across the market was slowly creeping his way over towards the duo. Even at a slouch, the mountain of a man was moving in bounds across the plaza, causing concerned citizens to stumble out of his way. The lumbering man, despite the enthusiastic inflection in his voice at the request of violence, had a dull expression set on his large face.
Drago "Bloodhound" Mayorovich looked positively drained of any sense of, well, positivety. His large frame hung as low as it could in the clearing marketplace, slouched low with the gravity of boredom holding him firm.
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Post by Shin RyuKen on Mar 29, 2012 19:01:06 GMT -5
Of course, Vindictus was no stranger to attracting swordsmen in the open public. The giant man's presence was so imposing that his voice inflected in such a way that all of the pedestrians in the vicinity heard him. Vydunas heard him too, but for some reason, his sword wasn't giving a pulse yet. He assumed that the man was a pugilist and felt as if fighting him would be either a bore or far more of a frustrating experience than he'd like.
Before he turned his head and opened his mouth, some foul-mouthed rogue raised his sword and yelled out, "Hey, fuck you! The festival is tomorrow! Nobody cares about your boxing!"
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Post by BloodValkyrie on Mar 29, 2012 19:08:13 GMT -5
Veronica nodded at Vydunas. "Yes, Platuna is nothing but a cemetery now. The grave for hundreds of people." She sounded like she truly did not care that her hometown was utterly wiped out. "I wasn't there when it was destroyed, so I'm not really what you'd consider a 'survivor'."
The pale woman's attention was taken by the massive brute calling towards them. He wanted a fight...and from his size it seemed like he knew how to fight pretty well. Veronica was quite tempted to accept his challenge. It had been a while since she'd seen blood after all. However, a random citizen yelled at the hulking brute before she could come to a decision. Veronica smiled, expecting to see the idiot get pulverized by the monstrous man.
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Post by Mayor on Mar 29, 2012 20:36:53 GMT -5
The brute halted in his tracks, being confronted by another brave soul. An idiot, but a brave soul. The lumbering giant altered his course slightly, casually strolling on over to the rogue, now frozen in his tracks by the presence of the giant's might. Drago approached the measly man, the rogue's once brash attitude replaced by a quiver as he sensed a feral might emanating from Drago.
Of course, it wasn't just the tiny man; all could see the signs of tension in Drago's body. As he towered over the man, Drago thought about plowing the man through the concrete upon which they stood, but decided against it. This tiny speck simply wasn't worth the effort. Rather, Drago bent his head down so that it rested six inches from the man's face, and uttered six simple words in a whisper, with such force and overwhelming intention that the man wet himself before running off.
"Get the hell out of here."
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Post by Shin RyuKen on Mar 29, 2012 20:56:32 GMT -5
The rogue's resolve seemed completely unscathed by the inhuman presence the boxer glowed through his entire body. He held his hands by his hips and spat at the boxer's feet, uttering with such nerve, "Just go away, man! Nobody's going to fight you here!"
Vydunas was a little thrown off point that he didn't get to finish his sentence, but as soon as Drago made his approach on the bold little rogue, Metus released a pulse that only Vydunas could notice. He knew then that a little combat might just be necessary; much to his chagrin, he had to get up and follow through with the thirst his katana desired to quench. "Man, I get no lunch time with this blade, I swear."
Vydunas lunged forward in a full motion that took advantage of the boxer's vulnerable back and unfocused stance. In one full motion, his katana radiated out of its sheath and landed a swift, powerful slash along Drago's enormous back.
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Post by Jisui on Mar 29, 2012 20:56:40 GMT -5
Name: Maxwell "Max" Aene
Age: 20
Race: Human
Class: Paladin/Death Knight
Appearance:
Max is a rather unintimidating figure, garbed in pure white robes similar to those of a monk or priest. The robes are of a simple white design, with a hood large enough to conceal Max's features if needed. Rather amusingly, the robe seems to be a size too large for the young man, the sleeves drooping past his arms and dragging along as he walks in his worn brown boots. Remarkably, even despite this, the robe maintains a pure white glow most times. Max, as shown by his simple clothing, isn't a fan of jewelry, however, a simple silver chain bracelet with a black cross pendant adorns his right hand. His left arm is completely bandaged from his shoulder down to his hands, while his right has no wrappings. The object that stands out the most to others however is his enormous blade, tied diagonally across the back of his robes.
In contrast with his blade, Max doesn't exactly strike fear into most people's hearts. Despite being fairly young, he has a rather withered, slumped form most of the time. Despite his 5'10 frame, he looks diminutive in the presence of others due to his frail, slumped posture and avoidance to look face to face with others. Max's face is young, with a chiseled nose and sapphire blue eyes that would make him fairly handsome if he didn't appear sickly and weak. Max is adorned with short, tussled brown hair that's spiked with occasional gray, which most people find surprising considering his young age. His frame reflects his sickly nature, slight and slim as if a stray wind could knock him down to the ground at any instant.
Personality:
Plagued with an illness only he understands, the disease Max is inflicted with has affected his mental state as much as his physical one. Condemned with an illness no one would want to understand, Max finds travel on the roads to be far lonelier then even he could have anticipated. Quiet, peaceful and wracked with self-pity over his current state, his negative traits often overshadow his positive ones, such as his willingness to understand others, his faith in religion, and above all, his overbearing kindness to everyone he meets. If confronted in adversity, Max believes in solving problems without violence before moving on to drastic measures. Despite this, if his loved ones are in danger, he won't hesitate to protect them. Max also has an eccentric side to him, the former priest is a food lover, despite his sickness and slight of frame.
However, unknown to others, Max has a spirit stored away in the cross shaped pendant on his right hand. When released, the spirit takes over Max's body, and acts as his alternate persona. This spirit, with little recollection of any events of his past life, can speak only to Max alone, as they both share the same body. The spirit, or inner Max as he likes to call him, carries himself with much more poise and pride then his partner. If the spirit takes over Max's body temporarily, a noticeable change in Max undergoes as his poise seems to straighten up almost instantly, and his gaze, once sickly and shy, turns grim and proud. Despite having no memory of his past life, the spirit carries an air of poise and cold indifference around him when he takes over Max's body. Inner Max shares none of the same pacifist nature as his counterpart, and he won't hesitate to use force when necessary if it benefits him. In battle, inner Max is the exact opposite of his outer self, cool, calm and ruthlessly efficient. His main goal is to both reclaim his lost memories and his old body, and to do that, he realizes he needs the outer Max to complete his goals. He tends to be indifferent to many of the struggles his carrier goes through because of this, only advising him because they share the same body. Despite this, the spirit seems to hold a soft spot for his partner deep down inside of him, and can appear overprotective at times, although he disputes it is only because they share the same body.
Weapon: Silver Greatsword- The last item people expect the sickly, peaceful priest to be equipped with is a weapon, much less a gargantuan two-handed broadsword nearly the length of the priest's body . The blade is around 4 foot long in length, and a foot long in width. The blade itself is polished with a silvery white gleam, double sided edges gleaming wickedly in the light, The thick blade tapering into a wicked point at the tip. The handle of the blade is around one foot long, bandaged with similar wrappings as those around his arms, with a simple steel cross guard at the top that makes the handle resemble a cross. The blade has the capability to do devastating damage in the right hands, but in the sickly Max's hands, it is essentially a large paperweight. Although he can carry it around, swinging it, much less holding it, is extremely tedious. When the spirit takes over however, he can wield it almost effortlessly with one hand, as well as swing it around with devastatingly swift strikes.
Abilities: Spiritual Release: In his former life, Max was a priest who specialized in exorcisms. He was an expert on handling spirits, and diverting them out of the bodies of victims. However, during one exorcism, his method backfired, and the spirit he was supposed to be exorcising possessed him instead... Max was left unable to exorcise the strange spirit, who had no recollection of his past life, and no desire to be trapped inside Max. Even worse, Max couldn't exorcise the spirit out himself for reasons he couldn't understand. With two spirits trapped inside the same body, Max realized that he risked having his very being melded with the spirit himself, so he came up with a temporary solution; he created a seal, trapping the spirit inside a tiny black cross pendant on his right arm. Although this possibly saved his life, it came at a dire cost; to maintain the seal, Max had to use his own life energy to supplement it. This left him in a severely weak, sickened state even today, and he realizes that without a way to exorcise the spirit, the seal will eventually claim his life.
While the seal prevents Max from battling, in dire times, he can call on the spirit possessing him to temporarily take over his body. This can be done by removing the seal temporarily, which has several restrictions bound to it:
1: Max cannot remove the seal himself.
2:The seal will reattach itself after a short period of time.
3. Once opened, it cannot be removed for a short period of time.
4: Only people Max truly trusts may remove the seal for him.
Despite the restrictions being high, the cost is well worth it. Once the seal is removed, the spirit will possess Max's body for a short period of time. Because the sickness was associated with Max giving his life force to maintain the seal, the spirit is bounded by no such weakness, and he can use Max's body to its fullest extent, if not even greater. Without his sickness, Max's body is actually quite nimble and well-built , able to move around at swift speeds even while carrying his greatsword. In addition to this, the spirit is an extremely capable combatant, equipped with both experience and tactical awareness in battle. While the restrictions are great, the rewards of awaken the spirit can be even greater, if Max finds a person he truly trusts with his life.
Faith: As a former priest, Max is well adept at healing any wounds people may have. Although he usually tries to conserve the little energy he has because of his sickness, the kind young man won't hesitate to use it if he believes someone is in danger. Wounds have to be closed using energy, so the greater the wound, the more energy it would take to close an injury. Due to this, Max is restricted due to his sickness how much he can heal a person, but the spirit inside of him doesn't have to worry. For some reason or another, the spirit finds himself incapable of using his ability at all, much less caring for a wounded person.
Blade of Sekhmet: Just as Max finds himself equipped with the ability to cure disease, the spirit inside Max finds himself just as adept at causing it. Once the spirit inside Max is awakened, the Silver Greatsword Max carries takes a different form. After the spirit awakens, his blade returns with him, the large blade of the sword gains vicious jagged, serrated edges capable of ripping a target to shreds on contact. The blade maintains its same general shape, tapering into a wicked point on the tip, with the same cross shaped handle as before. However, the spirit is capable of infecting the edge of the serrated blades with pestilence and disease, infecting any wound it causes through contact. Although the disease dies after a short period of time, it slowly wears the opponent down, lowering their stamina and endurance over a period of time.
Money: 500 Credits
Items: Sword, Healing Herbs, Black Cross Pendant
Vehicle: N/A
Story: To be updated.
Theme Song:
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Post by BloodValkyrie on Mar 29, 2012 21:04:59 GMT -5
Veronica's eyes widened and she smiled with pure, sadistic, joy. This man...this powerful, battle-hungry, warrior... She had to fight him. Her lust for violence boiled and she jumped off the fountain, taking one of her large knife-shaped blades out of its sheath. She quickly ran towards Drago, keeping herself low to the ground, and horizontally slashed at the brute's ribs.
She didn't care that the wolfen had also attacked. She would try to avoid hitting him since she had no desire for battle with him, but if he got in her way...that would be his fault.
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Post by Jisui on Mar 29, 2012 21:06:05 GMT -5
A white robed man in the attire of a monk, hooded so that his face was completely concealed, stepped out of the crowd as Drago, Veronica and Vydunas confronted one another, stepping aside from them near the fountain. Grimacing with a frown under his hood, he gave a frown, looking at the three confront one another.
"Gentleman, ladies, please... the festival is a day of peace, not-" The man began to speak, a quiet young man's voice reaching out to them before being cut off with a violent, almost spastic cough that lasted well over a few seconds. Once finished, beads of sweat running down his concealed face, he began breathing in and out heavily with great exertion.
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