It was getting dark. Cannon had just left the training grounds for the night and was heading home to his ship. The snow storm had mostly died down, a few remaining snowflakes drifting lazily in the lamp lights. The Mandalorian shouldered his rifle as he walked, glancing wearily towards the shadows. He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. He arrived at his ship, which had been reparked outside the dojo, so far all seemed alright. He reached up to open the ramp when suddenly he heard it, the sound of footsteps somewhere in the shadows. Stopping, he turned around drawing his rifle. "Whose there?" No answer, he could swear the shadows moved. Switching to night vision, he raised his rifle. Suddenly, a massive blast of energy slammed into his chest. With a cry, he fell to his knees as a number of being clad in grey and blue Mandalorian armor emerged from the shadows, their weapons trained on him. "We finally found you, dar'manda!" Chuckles their leader as they open fire. [spoiler]Open. Save Cannon or don't. If you don't, he dies and will not return.[/spoiler]

[b]Woe is me.[/b] The blonde haired man walked up to the dojo, wearing merely a Crimson Overcoat branded with a strange symbol identifiable as the [i]Aquila[/i]...strange. He wore a black sweater, matching cargo pants, crimson leather gloves and a pair of aviators. A bag was strapped to his shoulder, not to mention a gun case held in the other hand. Said man was loaded with some neat weaponry, a MG42 was slung on his back, a Melta was held in his free hand. Finally he had a normal Laspistol resting on his hip. "So...I'm either in Weeaboo Heaven or this is the Dojo. I hope the hell it's the latter." He muttered under his breath, walking forwards to the gate and finally entering The Dojo, his stark blue eyes scanning the area under his glasses. [spoiler]Open. Intro to a new character of mine.[/spoiler]

"[i]Swiper no swiping![/i]"

Everyone dies of cancer [spoiler]the end[/spoiler]

We all live in a yellow submarine

You know that you can't tell anyone? [i]Right.[/i] And you know that you can't get attached to them? [i]Of course.[/i] All right. 200 billion credits, up front. [i]Thank you. When the time comes, I'll keep up my end of the bargain.[/i] You better. [b]The two characters exit, leaving the warehouse they were meeting in empty.[/b] [spoiler]closed, open for feedback.[/spoiler] [spoiler]listen people, this was meant to be vague[/spoiler]

[b][u]GRAND FINALE: PART THREE[/u][/b] Suddenly, the dust cleared. And so did the fighters powers given to them by the stars, and they stopped falling as well. Both sustained serious injuries, and the arena cleared into an empty white space. Nothing was there. Only them, their weapons, their blood, And their determination to win. However, both had their normal powers still activated. At least to the point where the stars wouldn't assist. And Zane had an ace up his sleeve.... [spoiler]Final post. I'd recommend wrapping this up in twenty-thirty posts. If not I'll unfortunately have to judge the fight. And I'd rather one or the other beat eachother.[/spoiler]

[b]Operation Trojan[/b] [b]A small pod 'bearing gifts' to the Tenebraeans as a peace offering launched from the dojo. Of course, there was no loot or peace offerings on board. Instead, Fortis, Destanius, and the small fire team he had recruited.[/b] "Alright, once we board the ship, we need to take out the guards and security first. Once we have control of the ship, we can cut through the rest of the fleet with ease, as all of their shields and weapons are focused on the planet. Everyone understand?" [spoiler]Open for people who signed up, you know who you are.[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]A short return[/u][/i][/b] http://iob.imgur.com/uYGg/blaUGqNxTy [b]The snow came down in a Storm, creating a strong blizzard that swept through the streets. Yet, the laughter of children rang through the village, drawing those near. In the village Plaza, no snow had touched the ground and it felt extremely warm in the area. In the middle of the plaza sat a woman, smiling no tomorrow with a number of children around her. A small blue flame, in the shape of a butterfly escaped her fingers and the children screamed, chasing it around. The woman smiled, and simply watched. Some would remember the now old woman, others would not. This was Nora. Mother of Olivia And Nathaniel. [/b] [spoiler]Open! [/spoiler]

[b][u]Treachery's fall [/u][/b] [b]12:00 AM[/b] [i]The night was cold and dark, and a storm rocked the waters back and forth. Out on the horizon in the darkness, three large shadows slowly moved towards the dojo. It was Velehk Sain. After the raid on the cargo ship and other, smaller raids, Velehk Sain was ready to push his final assault on the dojo. The ships quickly moved closer and closer to the coast. Of course, the dojo was prepared. After some of what happened before, Sandello was involved in taking down Velehk. With Haknir's boat, Matthew boarded some of his gang members on it and they brought their most powerful enchanted weapons. Haknir took the boat out on the water, ready to attack with a couple dozen men on board with him, Shalidor included, the one who was in the most danger in the first place. He stood at the front, looking out at the distance, then turned around and yelled at everyone on deck.[/i] "Now remember, everyone, we need Velehk alive, destroy everything, but keep him alive, I'm going to need him." [i]The men agreed and Shalidor turned back around, facing the incoming ships. [/i] [spoiler]Open, use some ridiculous characters and abilities, go crazy, I want to get rid of Velehk now since his whole story line didn't go as planned. [/spoiler]

[spoiler]sooo question. Do I need permission to have a character of mine set up a shop. I could set up a list of what would be up for sale there in case anything looks a little OP. [/spoiler]

[b]Jackie was walking through the Dojo, heading towards a tree. Well, it wasn't common knowledge that her name was Jackie yet, most people who know her know her as Frisky, the slightly-insane drug dealer. She had her hair as usual, cherry-red, down to her shoulders, a little wavy. Her eyes were still their cherry-red hue. There was something different, however. Her clothes. She wore a leather jacket, strangely enough, and a pair of jeans, wearing some blue sneakers on her face. She got to the tree she was looking for, and sat down in its shade, looking at the passerby.[/b] [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]

[u][i]"...Socialization."[/i][/u] [u][i]Dojoville, Random Café[/i][/u] [i][u]1:31 PM, Tuesday[/u][/i] [u][i]Irina S. Eilizia[/i][/u] [i]As the snow fell from the grey skies and covered the concrete streets of the city of Dojoville, civilians bristled into the buildings that lined the streets of the large town, cars and trucks passing through as the masses carried onwards with their daily lives, the ice freezing over windows and the earth itself. It was a regular day, really - and Irina absolutely hated it. [/i] [i]Sitting idly outside of a café whole checking a light silver pendant that also served as a watch, Irina sighed, her breath fading away into the air as more snow fell from the skies. She was completely unharmed, and not exactly in the mood for any sort of combat at all. Wrapped around her thin body was her classic dark leather longcoat, with a white thread buttoned up shirt underneath that, a handkerchief protruding from the neckpiece of the outfit itself. A dark, well-mannered cape was draped over Irina's left shoulder, probably to signify some sort of importance, or possibly for style. Leather gauntlets and wool boots hide away her hands and feet, concealing them from the cold in similar fashion to the leather fabric pants she wore alongside the outfit. And, to top off Irina's signature outfit - a black tricorne hat, the feather of a pure white pigeon protruding from the back of it. [/i] [i]Irina was currently waiting outside, as after an intense argument with the manager, she wasn't allowed inside, as she would have "scared away customers". Instead, she was waiting for her waiter to come around with a warm cup of hot coffee outside, a frozen umbrella above her head as she sat at a black iron table, Irina herself taking up one of the four chairs. She hoped that someone - anyone, from that psychotic Russian Jason to the augmented cowboy John "JT" (She personally refused to call him John.), to the famed Deity, or perhaps even Quincy. Irina didn't mind at all who came around, but she wasn't going to be starting shit up.[/i] ((Open for some social interaction with everyone's favorite Vileblood.)) ((I'd prefer if it remains social, to be honest.)) ((Unfortunately, no shit will be pulled. ._. Let's just get going.))

[b][i]A Tad Late for the Party.[/i][/b] The black dressed woman arrived at the foot of the Dojo's steps. Her hood covered her face, the fur keeping out the cold winds from hitting her skin. But the hood couldn't mask the light blue complexion she wore on her arms and face. She looked up the steps, letting out a breath of slight annoyance as she took her first steps, her sword bouncing in its sheath as it hit her back softly with each step towards the gate. She had a large black desert eagle holstered on the right of her hip, and her arm Made a soft [i]swooshing[/i] noise like it was being operated. Eventually, and completely out of breath, she reached the top of the stairs. She let out her breath, and grinned. She pulled back the fur hood to reveal her light, soft blue face but her fiery eyes and hair. "Well...I guess it's time to do this then!" [spoiler]Open! Bio https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/219056443/0/0/1[/spoiler]

https://youtu.be/dgha9S39Y6M

[u][i]Just a little practice.[/i][/u] Aani was in the Dojo courtyard with her eyes closed, breathing slowly. She was focusing her strength on a large wooden post she had set up. She took out her sword and took a fighting stance, then phase dashed multiple times through and around the post, making a slash each time she passed by. She ended by charging her slash and smashing/cutting the post in two, leaving it on the ground and taking a breather. [spoiler]open, just a tiny little post[/spoiler]

A storm gathers over the dojo Colosseum, lighting striking around it and almost hitting the civilians. An ominous presence can be felt throughout the entire dojo. [spoiler]Closed[/spoiler] [spoiler]#[I]Soon....[/I][/spoiler]

[b][i]GRAND FINALE PART 2![/i][/b] Suddenly the ground beneath the fighters shook and cracked atop the massive eighty story tower. Suddenly, the centre of the tower collapsed form the stars firing down through it. The middle floor collapsed into the bottom floors which resulted in the very top floor where JJ and Zane stood to also fall, sending them both down with imbalance. The floor crashed and crash until both of the fighters hit the ground and the remains of the tower remained scattered across the paved battleground which was now thick with dust.... [spoiler]JJ has first REPLY.[/spoiler]

[b]A grand entry.[/b] [b]A decent sized ship flew above the dojo, the music coming from it so loud the entire dojo could hear it. The voice singing had an almost angelic tune to it.[/b] "[i]And I wonder when I sing along with you If everything could ever feel this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I'll ever ask of you You've got to promise not to stop when I say when She sang[/i]" [b]The guitar that was being used was like no other. Every note penetrated the air with clear cut notes, yet all the sounds muddled together to create one big symphony of wonderful sound.[/b] [spoiler]Open, introducing a new character.[/spoiler]

Most replied thread on the forums??

[b]Fortis and Destanius have built a large-ish building where their ship once was. A sign hanging above the doorway reads [i]Enter here to join the 2nd army of Fortis.[/i] A different sign, posted on the front wall of the shoddy building, said [i]I need YOU to defeat the tenebraeans.[/i][/b] [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]

[i]Undisclosed Location[/i] "Dammit Specter get her in there!" Ghost screamed at the medic of Vanish Squad, Specter, who had Eve in his arms as they sprinted down a long, white hallway lit by fluorescent halogens. Ghost had ordered the rest of the team to get the hell out, while Ghost ran with Specter to the nearest operating room. Specter, was the only reason she was still alive. Eve, was not a pretty sight to behold..to say the least. After the squad's encounter with Lucien Farcòn and Desmond Galloway, Lucien had left her in pieces..literally. She was missing her right arm and leg, the stumps blackened to a char, her body was covered in third degree burns, some spots blackened by cobalt fire, even the hair on her head had been burnt from her scalp. She was unconscious, and the only reason she wasn't dead, was for Specter's holding her in a suspended stasis with his temporal abilities. It was why he was their medic; he could suspended someone's body in a temporal stasis to keep them from dying, along with being able to speed up the body's healing abilities. Which he'd already done...Eve's body couldn't regenerate limbs. They burst through a set of double doors, swinging open as Ghost screamed orders to doctors and Specter got her to the operating table. "Keep her alive! I don't care what you have to do, just keep her alive!" Ghost yelled at the doctors, who immediately complied. Not only was it their job to rescue lives, but they knew who Ghost was. Or, they knew of him. And they were more than obliged to listen. Some ushered Specter and Ghost out, while others got to work on Eve, crowding around her with anesthetics, surgery tools, and shiny pieces of metal.. Several hours later... Ghost was the only one in the waiting room, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. The other's had gone away to actually get some sleep or do something better with their time. Unlike Ghost, they knew sitting and worrying would do Eve no good. They'd come back once they got news, which would only take any one of them a few seconds. Ghost was jolted to awareness as a doctor came through a door, green scrubs decorated with dried bloodstains, a worried expression on his face. On both of their faces. "She's alive." The doctor said, and Ghost didn't breathe a sigh of relief yet. He knew by the doctors face it wasn't a happy matter. "But..she's far from what she used to be. We had to take drastic measures to keep her alive.." (Closed.) ~~~~ [i]Dojo Woods[/i] Desmond enjoyed the silence..it was simple. No one there except for himself and his thoughts. His thoughts, in particular, were geared towards the monster currently inside of him, courtesy of Lucien Farcòn. He'd asked for it. He didn't want to die, even if he could come back. He wasn't paying that price again, especially when it could have been Chloe. But the Black Ram.. He'd been practicing, devouring different animals. Wolves, foxes, birds, even a bear. The Ram within him agreed heavily at his use of it's power, but the Ka'kari wasn't too keen on it. "Desmond, why are you gonna goad this thing, when you know damn well its malevolent in it's very nature?" It spoke inside his head, clearly pissed with him. Unlike the Ka'kari, the Ram wasn't sentient in nature, but the Ka'kari could still feel it was sharing space with this new entity within Desmond. And he didn't like it's presence. Because Lucien told me I'd have to, unless I wanted myself devoured, Desmond thought to himself, and by extension, the Ka'kari. He could feel this monster wanting out, but it was suppressed by food. Desmond had to admit, the abilities it gave him were beyond useful, but they felt..wrong. (Open.)

[b][u]Prodigal Son | Ko Rudo Mountains, Tatakai[/u][/b] Lucien wandered the endless expanse contained within Tatakai's mountain range. His boots treaded lightly upon the hard rock, ending what little silence was held with such minute noise. His thick leather coat blew slightly in the dormant breeze, the guns strapped to his bandoliers resisting the low temperatures of the mountain. He dwelled upon his sins. He dwelled upon his failure to protect Alister, whisked away and wrapped up in business that was not even his to conduct. Until a presence overcame the entire area. The man felt the hair stand on the back of his skin, immediately drawing his sword in one hand and revolver in the other. Violet-blue flames danced around the edge of his blade as his mind fought with itself, trying not to be torn apart by the mere presence of the anomaly. It was as if whatever was causing the presence was an anathema - its very existence was a crime to life itself. It should not be, yet it was. A six white flashes lit up in front of Lucien, each one heralding a flaming round that traced the air with blue flames. He raised his sword in a blur to at least deflect a few of them, only to be met with the superheated rounds impacting so quickly he did not even have time to register. He fell to one knee and stabbed his sword into the ground to balance himself. Expecting his regeneration to have already mended his wounds, he attempted to get up but struggled - the shooter had targeted points on his body that would have trouble regenerating from burning attacks. Whoever they were, they had knowledge of Lucien's anatomy and mutated cells. But blue fire? He knew there were others that wielded flame of the same colour, but on a cellular level he felt his own mutated flesh writhe in agony. These flames were the product of someone like him, someone who had been inoculated with the same strain of the mutated stem cell virus in order to produce the signature cobalt flames. Such a thing was not possible, however. He would have to be dead in order for someone to gain his inoculation. "Who are you?" Lucien asked as he tilted his head upwards to view his assailant. The figure in front of him had the height of a boy, only about 5'6. A height like that normally would not have intimidated anyone, but something about this stranger was unsettling. The overcoat adorning his body was thick and leathery, similar to Lucien's, but did not seem to be made of any regular material. The rough texture upon its black surface reminded Lucien of the dragons of the Old Earth, fictional creatures created in literature and fantasy. Yet here this man stood with an overcoat bearing the scales of a beast as well as a necklace of reptilian talons. The coat seemed to have ceramic shoulder guards upon it, with one pauldrons having the emblem of a coiled red cobra painted upon it. However, it had a knife slash gouged through it, giving the appearance of the cobra's head severed from its body. Beneath the open overcoat was a somewhat peculiar shirt. A grey t-shirt with the caricature of a gas mask with the word "PYROMANIAC" written under it in a chicken-scratch scrawl. What was most unsettling was his mask. An armoured helm clad in metal, with various attachments and antennae all converging into one militaristic helmet. What had Lucien's attention the most was the single bright blue optic at the centre of his face, gazing into his soul like an intense Cyclops. In his hand was a Mateba revolver with feathery engravings, flames licking the barrel from the barrage from before. Lucien's eyes wandered to the breast pocket of the stranger's coat as he continued to struggle to get up. On his lapel was yet another emblem, a cobalt Phoenix surrounded by a lighter blue flame. "Ah, so you are this Cobalt Phoenix I hear so much of." "He said to them, “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds? Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have," the man quoted. His voice was gravelly and rough, like he had not spoken in decades. "Luke chapter 24, verses 38-39. The Old World Bible," Lucien stated. He had learned the Holy literature of Earth with his time spent collecting information from Iconoclast data caches back on Mars. "Correct, Lucien Farcòn. While I am not the Messiah nor proclaim to be, I am Reckoning incarnate - your reckoning, in fact. Beyond ethereal yet not corporeal, made flesh but not entirely." Willing his body to create a brittle exoskeleton of bone around his wounded limbs, he leapt forward and fired a .410 shotgun shell from his revolver before slashing upwards with his flaming curved sword. The Phoenix was seemingly not taken aback by the buckshot at all, so he met Lucien's sword by raising his hand - a katana burning into existence within it just in time to block the attack. It had Oriental depictions that ran all along the blade, almost exactly like Lucien's. [i]Buckshot was stopped by the leather - or something behind it?[/i] Lucien thought to himself quickly as he saw the remnants of his ineffective .410 shot embedded in the man's coat. While his opponent was shorter, he had enough strength to wield his katana with one hand with his pistol in the other. "It is funny how hypocritical you are. Hunting down others, claiming to destroy the demons within them using your own," the Phoenix stranger said as the heat around his own blade began to distort the air around the two. Fire radiated between them in waves, swirling them in a circle and eventually burning away to reveal a different scene. Houses, some half-finished remnants covered in Martian dirt and completed by haphazard wood and others being pure shacks of scrap material. It mattered not, however. Everything was drenched in blood and engulfed in blue flames. Rivers of red flowed down the dirt paths of the settlement, with half-eaten corpses serving as islands of offal amidst a sea of blood. Lucien's eyes widened in horror as he realized where he was. "No... No..." "Yes indeed. Auburn Steppes of Olympus Island - the settlement you massacred and burnt to the ground." Shuddering in terror, Lucien backed up a few steps away from the stranger and almost slipped on a hand that was separated from its body. He caught himself quickly enough, disgusted by the scene around him - the massacre he had caused all those years ago. "I was... I was someone different back then. So full of hatred... I know I can never atone for my sins, but I never rest in ensuring that nobody ever does this again -" "Ensure? Please, Lucien. You are nothing but a self-entitled bastard who thinks of himself as a justiciar, hunting down those who can't control their powers. The only atonement that awaits you is death." Lucien's arms and legs became a blur as he rushed towards the stranger, firing a .410 shotgun shell at him before slashing sideways with his flaming sword. Phoenix's own sword clashed, creating another small explosion of fire. [i]Buckshot pellets got stuck in the coat... either tough material, or there is a layer of something like my nano-cellulose stopping the pellets.[/i] "Who are you?" Lucien shouted as he tried firing his pistol into Phoenix's gut point-blank beneath the clashing blades. His arm was knocked to the side by Phoenix's own, which also held a revolver. With a single trigger squeeze a powerful shotgun shell of thermite and ceramic shards drove through Lucien's body, scorching organs and burning his tainted blood. This knocked Lucien back, making him fall to one knee and holding his sword's tip to his chest. The stranger, Phoenix, laughed before his chuckling turned into a hacking cough. "Do it, Lucien. Embrace your hatred. Show me that your inner demons thrive within you! SHOW ME THE REAL YOU!" "SHUT UP! YOU KNOW NOTHING OF MY SINS!" "On the contrary, Lucien," Phoenix whispered as he positioned his own katana over his belly. "I know them the best." (CONTINUED BELOW)

[b][i][u]The Hunt for Santa[/u][/i][/b] Cannon crouched over the struggling form tied to a chair. "Tell me what I want to know, and you go free." "N-no!" Cannon drew a knife. "Fine! I am one of Santa's Elves! Please don't hurt me!" "And how do I find his workshop?" "I don't know! He never lets us see the outside! I was the first to escape in years! You've got to believe me!" "I do. And I want to catch this man. So please cooperate." "Y-yes sir!" A snap can be heard from behind. Cannon wheels around, weapon raised. "Who goes there?" [spoiler]Open for any who want to hunt Santa. You are what made the snap.[/spoiler]