[u][i]Dafuq is this thing...?[/i][/u] Outside of the Dojo's gates, a little banging could be heard against their massive steel body. A white man looked to be hitting the door with his sword, quite strangely too, like he was examining it. "How the hell does this thing stay perfect like this?!" He exclaimed, hitting it again with such force that "The Ring in Return" made its signature ringing. Nothing had happened to the door, unsurprisingly. Tyto was very puzzled, perhaps thinking it was a new metal or something instead of magic and spells. Even though his own blade was formed with magic he refused, still, to believe in it. "...I hate this thing..." He put away his sword and pulled out his pistol. "Ludicrous Speed". He loaded a few shots, then fired them off into the steel. Some stopped dead, but one ricocheted off and hit the ground next to him and buried itself like a mole. Tyto simply looked down at the miniature crater and sighed. "Screw this thing..." [spoiler]open, weird intro post[/spoiler]

[b]W.M.D Plot Intro[/b] [b]Tatakai, The Dojo, Varied Time[/b] [b]No Character[/b] [i]A device nearby your character activates, whether if it's a TV, Phone or Radio. It seemed to be receiving a transmission from... Somewhere, and the message seemed urgent because of the warning alerts that your character hears or sees. The distinct voice of Xavier echoes into the device.[/i] "Listen... We have an emergency here. One of my... Informants has found out that groups of people have been silently observing us, and are building weapons to try and take us down. Their objective isn't clear on why they plan on destroying us, but it's clear that they want to destroy this place. No, not nukes... It's smaller, but deadlier, which our defences cannot counteract." "You may not believe me, but you have no choice. Things will go to hell if we don't take actions against this. Meet me here; I'll be waiting." [i]The co-ordinates are send or said on the device you were listening to. Should you choose to go there, well, you'd be bearing a lot of responsibility.[/i] [spoiler]https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/219577765/0/0[/spoiler]

[b][i]Dojo, 6:32 PM[/i][/b] [i]The scouting was going perfectly.[/i] [i]Key locations had already been scouted out, and objectives outside of the Dojo had been completed. Proceeding throughout the Dojo that cold, freezing afternoon at a quiet pace was a Stand - six feet and eleven inches tall, it's spiritual blood red body draped in a deep red robe decorated with gold and heart insignias. The being's claws were like sharpened crystals, it's face hidden away by a dull white mask. The being was muscular and massive, more than capable of taking a beating and gunshot wounds. As it stalked throughout the Dojo, it did so in a terrifyingly quiet, stealthy manner, as it ran it's blood red claws against the interior of the walls, the interior of the hallways, the doorways leading into specific areas, it cackled with mad delight as one by one, each area of importance was scouted out.[/i] [i]So far, it had made it's way around the Dojo's MAC cannons, walls, hallways, the armory...it did so in a eerie manner, as a quiet -click!- was heard as it stealthily finished every objective. As it finished up it's work, the Stand known as Due Time flexed and proceeded onwards to the exit of the Dojo, in a particularly murderous mood.[/i] [spoiler]Open for all who would love to interfere. Yes, I'm particularly murderous today.[/spoiler]

[b][i] [/i][/b]

[b]Cold Nights[/b] Quincy was walking home from his job at the coffee shop, passing by the pretty decorations and displays people had set up. It was rather dark out so there weren't too many people out on the streets. It had gotten colder as of late so he was wearing his classic red hoodie, white sweatpants, an interesting kind of boot of sorts that fit on his oddly shaped feet and ankles, white wool gloves, and a black and grey striped scarf that was wrapped around his neck. One of the ends was loose and blew in the breeze. He passed by a small bakery. It was closed, of course, so the lights were out. He continued on without stopping, humming a tune to himself. His hood was down, letting his longer headfur drape over his eyes and droop a little down to his neck, it was like hair. He occasionally passed by people, who either gave him looks of confusion or looks of utter distaste. He ignored the ones who were rude and smiled to those who looked puzzled by him. He yawned as he sat on a bench by an intersection, rubbing his nose to warm it up. He had been thinking lately, wondering if he should leave for a while, take a break from the craziness of the Dojo. As he thought about this, he heard footsteps to his left. [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler] [spoiler]They're your footsteps.[/spoiler]

*grabs lube*

[u]Too crazy for heaven[/u] During midday with the holiday season at full swing, a sound of a rough running motorcycle could be heard approaching the Dojo. Eventually the sound sputters out and someone presumably female is heard on the other side. "Holy s#$t it made it. That two wheeled peice of cr#p managed to get me all the way here. Hey anyone at the door." She then grabs a sharpie and writes "FREE" on the side of the motorcycle and takes the mask off the handlebars. [spoiler]open. Intro to Jackie[/spoiler]

[i]Iso is walking outside on a foggy night. The fog gets so bad that she can hardly see what's in front of her.[/i] "Oh how I love the fog! It's like being hugged by a cloud!" [i]She giggles and continues to walk. [/i] [spoiler]Cannon[/spoiler]

[b][i]FIREWORKS SHOT OFF INTO THE SKY! For 50K had come to the dojo again! Many merry dojoville citizens cracked their finest wines and toasted to the Dojo's life! THE PARTY! ENSUES! ...or not. Because damn we've had a lot of parties. Just take this as an excuse to take your daddies liquor or something. You do you man.[/i][/b]

"THE NEXT FIGHT IS AN INTERESTING ONE! On one hand, we have edgester Mulligan! And on the other, Flame on, Fenrir!" [b]Mulligan stands on the right side of the coliseum, Fenrir on the left. The arena changes, becoming an aerial battle. Fenrir and Mulligan are each on top of a star fighter, and have the ability to hop from one to the other if they so dared[/b]

*Wolf is roaming the streets of Dojoville. The new-fallen snow crunching under his boots. Hanging from streetlights are Christmas decorations. Mistletoe, holly, and tinsel everywhere he looks.* *He passes people on the sidewalk. Some are happy and jolly, the holiday season bringing some degree of welcome excitement to their otherwise simple lives. Some people are stressed, having only a few more days to find and purchase the perfect gifts for their loved ones. There are worn out parents, tired from their children's impatience and endless nagging about what Santa will bring them.* *The houses and buildings have decorations up. Many have lights or inflatable snowmen. He passes a few homes with light up reindeer on the snow-covered roofs.* *Coming to a town square, Wolf finds a roofed-bench and sits down. He watches the happy couples pass by, hand in hand, and wishes he had someone to spend Christmas with, but it's only five days away.* *thinking* [i]"My twin flame (soulmate) can't possibly be in another dimension. Or?[/i] [spoiler]open Feel free to tell me how I did with this writing. Be honest as possible please[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]Untitled...[/u][/i][/b] [b]Kross spun around, slashing the robot that came at him in half easily He stopped, panting as the simulation ended and he stood tall in the Arena. In his hand, he held The Profaned Greatsword, the sword of Pontiff Sulyvahn. If anyone remembered who that was anymore Kross looked towards the entrance, at who entered [/b] "Hello." [spoiler]Open![/spoiler]

[b]a old friend? or so it seems[/b] [i]its cold brisk morning as the sun reflects off the fresh snow. There's a chill in the air as wind blows quietly through the trees in the woods. This section of woods isn't that far from the dojo. But there's a stillness in the air as the sounds of someone's footsteps can be heard crunching through the snow as well as their heavy labored breath. The person that is walking through the snow is all bundled up in soft white furs. The figure has a big jagged looking two handed sword strapped to its back and the sword itself looks like it was made from a jaw bone from a visious predator. The sword has very interesting design cause its got teeth that retract into the the sharp blade. The figure is no less impressive cause it has to duck under alot of the lower branches cause it stands at a impressive 8'9" foot tall as it walks down the path towards the dojo. Because of how cold it is its very hard to tell what the figure's face looks like or even what gender cause how well its bundled up. All that can be seen is a pair of silvery sea blue eyes . When it gets closer to the dojo it walks up to the gate and knocks three times then steps back a good distance. The large figure then sits down in the snow cleary not caring about the snow. Its waits patiently it was in no hurry to go anywhere anytime soon. what it wants is unclear.[/i] (new character ) (Here's the link to the bio. https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1677784/219676213/0/0/1 ) [spoiler]so yes its open[/spoiler]

[u]lizzie[/u] [i]lizlith aka "lizzie" was chatting with lola but this time she wasn't wearing as much of what she was wearing before cause she was standing wearing lighter gray fur and strapped to her back was a sword that was made from a very large predator's jawbone. It was something only she could wield. she was facing lola and talking with her not paying attention to anyone that could sneak up on her. Lizzie was looking down where lola was standing as she was talking to her. It was a unusual sight seeing the two together because of the difference in height.[/i] "Man you sure have gotten big i remember when you were my size boy you shot up"says lola "Heh yeah i may have had a growth spurt"says lizzie "I would say so"says lola [i]both of them laugh a bit before talking more. Lola then points at the sword on her back and lizzie laughs taking off her back.she then holds it out for her to see.[/i] "Man that sword is so cool looking"says lola "Yeah it was a pain in the ass killing it though it almost had me for lunch but it couldn't quite get me down its throat"says lizzie "Well damn that would be i guess"says lola [i]they continued to talk a little bit more swapping stories and catching up. I wonder what other interesting things that i will see here wonders lizzie as she glances around the courtyard as she talks to lola some more.[/i] [spoiler]open for interaction[/spoiler]

[b]Coffee and assorted breakfast foodstuffs.[/b] [i]Somewhere in Dojoville[/i] Twas an average day down in ye olden part of Dojoville. People were bustling around as usual and Rock's cafe wasn't getting too many customers. Quincy was behind the register, yawning as he was busy tapping something on his datapad. He adjusted his rectangular glassed and looked around the coffee shop. There was a lady in the corner in a chair sipping some coffee as she read a small book. There was a man typing on a computer near the window. That was about it. "Slow morning" he thought, resuming his typing. ((open to chat, interaction, food))

Flashback; 12 years ago. The guards had failed to see through the messenger costume Desmond had worn to make his way up to this tower room to his target. It was, it seemed, just a large bedchamber currently not being used, but he saw his target within the room, surveying the drawers of a dresser, his side turned to the doorway. Without the Talent to shadow his approach, there was a good chance he'd notice Desmond enter. Finally, Gavin Anerath, his deader, made his way across the room and entered the closet, where Desmond took the opportunity to enter and look for places to hide. This room had no dark corners. It was practically a circle. There were rice paper screens, but they were folded and leaning against the walls, unavailable. Pitifully, the only place to hide was under the bed. If he were a wetboy, he might've been able to vault off the wall and onto the chains of the chandelier..too bad that wasn't an option. Under the bed? Master Blint will never let me live this down, he thought to himself. But there was no other option. Desmond dropped flat onto his toes and fingertips and crawled under the bed. It was a good think he was still slight because there wasn't much space. He'd chosen the side of the bed with the view of the closet, and therefore he couldn't see who was coming up the stairs. Gavin stepped out of the closet with a chest and guilt flashed across his face, and a woman's voice carried from the entranceway. "Your leaving." Her voice was accusing, and Gavin sighed tiredly. "No. You can't be here Bev." "You're stealing from them, and now you're stealing from the King. And for some reason, I'm surprised you'd lie to me. Asshole." Gavin dropped the chest on the bed and moved towards the woman in the doorway, and Desmond was stricken with panic. What if she left and Gavin decided to go after her? He'd have to kill them both in the stairwell before the guard came back around. "Bev, please-" "Go to Hell!" She slammed the door in his face. Wish granted. It was the blackest kind of humor. Durzo's kind of humor. He liked to say that the irony of overheard conversations was one of the best perks of the bitter business, though he said that the wisdom of last words was overrated. Wish granted..? Desmond didn't like that he'd even thought that. Everything this man was to be and do, was about to come to an end, and here he was smirking about it. He crawled out from under the bed silently and did everything right. Low, ready stance, advancing quietly but quickly, balanced so that even if the deader reacted he wouldn't be caught flat footed. He brought the knife out of the slit in his pants and up to eye-level, prepared to grab Gavin and give him what Durzo called the red grin-a slash across the jugular and deep through the windpipe. Then he imagined Elise giving him the look she'd given him when he'd taken the biggest piece of bread for himself. What are you doing Des? You know this is wrong. He recovered late, and it was as if his training had abandoned him. He was inches away, and even Gavin hadn't heard him, but the very nearness caused him to panic. He lunged with the knife and must have made some sound, because Gavin was turning. The knife bit into the back of his neck, hit spine, and bounced out. Because of his convulsively tight grip that Durzo would've beat him for, the knife bounced right out of his hand too. Gavin turned and yelled. It seemed he was surprised more by Desmond's sudden appearance then the sharp pain in his neck. He put his fingers to his neck, pulled them back, and saw the blood. They both looked down at the knife, but Gavin didn't go for it. He fell to his knees as Desmond picked up the knife from the floor. "Please don't." He begged, his eyes big with fear at little Desmond, who's disguise made him seem younger, more than he was. There was nothing scary about him, was there? But Gavin's face was white and his eyes were round, pitiful, helpless. "Please," he said again. Desmond slashed his throat in a fury. Why didn't he protect himself? He was bigger than Desmond, he had a chance. Why did he act like sheep. The cut was through the windpipe but barely clipped one jugular. It was deep enough to kill, but not fast. Desmond grabbed his hair and slashed twice more, slightly up so the blood sprayed up and not down. Not a drop got on him. He'd done it just as Durzo had taught him. There was a sound on the stairs. "Gavin, I'm sorry." Bev said before she even got into the room. "I just had to come back. I didn't mean-" She stepped into the room and saw Desmond. She saw his face, the dagger in his hand, him holding the dying Gavin by the hair. She was a plain young woman wearing a white serving dress. Wide hips, wide-spaced eyes, mouth open in an O and beautiful raven hair. Finish the job. The training took hold and Desmond was across the room in an instant. He yanked her forward, swept a foot in, pivoted, and flipped her onto the ground. The woman was beneath him, face down on the carpet. The next move was to slide the knife between her ribs. She'd hardly feel it. He wouldn't have to see her face. He hesitated. It was his life against hers. She'd seen him. She'd seen his face..she was just collateral damage. An ancillary fatality, Durzo said. A wetboy would do what needed to be done. Blint only allowed him to live as long as he could do everything a wetboy did, even without the Talent. And yet here she was, face down, knife pricking the back of her neck. His left hand twisting her her hair. Life is empty. Life is meaningless. When we take a life, we aren't taking anything of value. I believe it. I believe it. There had to be another way, could he tell her to run? To tell no one? No, of course not. "You're going to kill me aren't you?" She asked. "Yes." He replied, and even though the knife was moved to the correct spot on her back, he knew he was lying. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow shift on the stairs. He didn't move, didn't acknowledge that he'd seen it, but he felt a chill. It was the middle of the afternoon and no torches or candles. That shadow could only be Master Blint. He'd followed Desmond, this was a job for the Shinga and it would not be botched. Desmond slid the knife between her ribs and felt the shudder and sigh of her dying beneath him. He stood and pulled the knife from her flesh and wiped it on her dress, sheathing it along his thigh and checked himself for blood in the rooms mirror. Just like he'd been taught. It was all the sorrow in the world to him that he was clean. There wasn't any blood on his hands. When he turned, Blint stood in the doorway. "Not great, but acceptable. The Shinga will be pleased." He purses his lips, seeing the distance in Desmond's eyes. "Life is meaningless. Life is empty. When we take a life, we take nothing of value." Desmond stared at him blankly. "Repeat it, damn you!" Durzo moved and a knife thudded into the dresser behind Desmond. He didn't even flinch, only repeating the words mechanically and numb. Was it so easy? Was it so simple? You just pushed, and death came? Nothing spiritual about it..nothing happened. There was no Heaven or Hell. They just stopped. "That pain you feel," Blint said almost gently, "is the pain of abandoning a delusion. The delusion is meaning Desmond. There is no higher purpose. There are no gods. No arbiters of right and wrong. I don't ask you to like reality. I only ask you to be strong enough to face it. There is nothing beyond this. There is only the perfection we attain by becoming weapons, as strong and merciless as a sword. There is no essential good in living. Life is nothing in itself. It's a place marker to prove who's winning. We win because it's an insult to lose. The means don't justify the ends. The ends don't justify the means. There is no one to justify to. There is no justification. There is no justice. Do you know how many people I've killed?" Desmond simply shook his head. "Me neither. I used to. I used to remember the name of every person I killed outside of battle. Then it was too many. I just remembered the number. Then I remembered only the innocents. Then I forgot that. Do you know what punishments I've endured for my crimes, my sins? None. I am proof of the absurdity of men's most treasured abstractions. A just universe wouldn't tolerate my existence." He took Desmond's hands and told him to kneel at the edge of the woman's blood pooling at her body, pressing his hands into the blood. "This is your baptism. If you must worship, worship like the other wetboys. Worship Nysos, god of blood and wine. Nysos is a lie like all the other gods, but at least he won't make you weak. Today you've become an assassin. Now get out and don't wash your hands. And one more thing: when you've got to kill an innocent, don't let them talk." Desmond was 13 years old. (Closed. Open to critiques and thoughts.) ~~~ Desmond was sitting atop the roof of the Dojo, sitting and thinking to himself. Well, himself and the bottle of scotch he was drinking. He couldn't get drunk, another by product of the Ka'kari, but he was still having a grand old time with his thoughts. Dangerous thing, thinking. Perhaps someone could sidetrack him from it. (Open^)

[b]A huge ship emerged from FTL travel in orbit around Tatakai, leaving black smoke in its wake. Emerging first from the smoke was its bow, being a massive skull. The starboard and larboard sides of the ship were lined with massive guns. It's stern looked like an actual old ship stern. On the shipboard intercom, a voice spoke with power. It was smooth but rough at the same time.[/b] What do we fight for?! [i]FREEDOM![/i] Good. Prepare to send ground crews. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]FIFTY FREAKING K!!!!!![/u][/i][/b]

Coming out of SlipSpace now, sir. [b]Hundreds of UNSC ships emerged from SlipSpace. Frigates, Cruisers, Marauders, you name it- it was there. One voice hailed the Dojo, belonging to Admiral Terrence Hood.[/b] Attention leaders of the Dojo- this is Admiral Terrence Hood of the UNSC. We have reason to believe that you are harboring Rogue Spartans. Please respond as soon as possible, over and out. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

*Plays mixtape for first time*

[i]It was a dark, cold night out on the Ko Rudo mountains, and Ricardo was bundled up extra as he explored, alone. He was looking for something. Something to help him. After searching for hours, he finally found it: a small cave in the side of a wall in the mountain. The cave was a shelter from the snow and cold, it was quiet inside... peaceful, and the vaquero walked throughout the cave, examining the walls. On the walls were markings of a strange, foreign language. Ricardo rubbed his hand against the rock wall with the markings and they started glowing. A portal suddenly opened, and Ricardo smiled. He stepped through it, causing something strange to happen. He reappeared back in the dojo courtyard A1, holding an orb in his hand, it had a weird essence in it. He looked up at everyone around him.[/i] "Hello everyone! In this orb, I hold immense power for the taking! I'm willing to give it up, but only if you can take it from my dead body! So who will take the challenge?" [spoiler]open, if you win, I'll give Ricardo to you as a character. I don't want him anymore. [/spoiler]

[u]The Broken God: Prequel [/u] [spoiler]plans to make this a full blown plot. Just need to send it into plot scheduling so this is Preeeetty much a sampler. Long story short, if you want a little background lore on the upcoming plot, this is probably going to be interesting.[/spoiler] Sneaking outside of the Dojo, Anthony sneaks into a small hidden chamber he had known about for some time. Inside is a massive sealed door with an strange mechanism holding it shut. Without much patience he slams at the door, hacking and slashing at it but what would usually torn apart with ease from his dark spear seems unscathed by his attack. Frustrated, he slams his fist in to the door cursing it. Unnoticed nearby is Ash, recognizing a voice behind the door but keeping her distance, unsure how to confront the man so desperate to open the door. Her ability to calm seems useless against the man and the several souls he had devoured. So she hid listening to the voice of something bellowing for freedom from behind the door. [spoiler]Open. You can decide to confront either Ash or Anthony. Just a warning Anthony has a taste for demon souls so yeah...also I usually make pretty long sets. Like days long so just a heads up.[/spoiler]

*obligatory why is this still here post*

[b][u]What's an 'America'?[/u][/b] [b]A Sukhoi 25 "Frogfoot" blazes over the Dojo at a relatively fast speed for a CAS plane, the pilot was a Luftwaffe pilot by the name of Franz Kessler. He opted out of serving on the ambitious "moon base" and instead was stationed here for recon and possible destruction of valuable military assets should an enemy force be present. He slowed the plane to a speed where he could effectively maintain altitude and concentrate on communications. He turned on his relatively antiquated comms and spoke with a German accent of questionable authenticity. [/b] "Zis is Franz Kessler of the Luftvaffe, do I have ze permission to land on any nearby runway?" [b]He silences his voice on the comms and begins laughing at how terrible his accent is before imcreasing acceleration and banking right, waiting for permission to land.[/b] (Open)