{{
`${userDetail.user.displayName}${userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode ? `#${standardizeBungieGlobalCode(userDetail.user.cachedBungieGlobalDisplayNameCode)}` : ""}`}}
{{getUserClans()}}
originally posted in:The New Dojo
1/24/2017 11:50:22 PM
46
[b][i]The One Who Would Be King
Dojoville, Main Road
11:57 AM[/i][/b]
[i]A man journeys up the road, making his way through the crowds and people swiftly, his path leading him to the main gate. Most of the people had to avert their gaze, the noonday sun reflecting so brightly off of his golden armor that it would blind those who gazed upon it long.
As such, it was somewhat impossible to gaze on his face, giving him a feeling of incorporeality, as though he was there, but elsewhere as well. A palpable sense of power and majesty emanated from him, rippling out in all directions, creating a wide berth for him from the crowd, who averted their gaze.
Those who did look for a moment beyond the glare of the reflected noonday sun saw the briefest glimpse of the man: a beautifully elegant smile, white pearlescent teeth flashing confidently' and brilliant, gleaming red eyes. Simply put, this man was resplendent, and powerful.
And he knew it.
A young man strutted up to him, lazily swinging a sword about, his face set in a cool, serious face. He walked out in front of the Golden King, setting himself into a defensive combat position, his eyes locking on the King's, but squinting in the light.
In that moment, those who had found previously found the King hard to gaze upon now had to turn their head completely, a sheeting sound ringing through the air as a yet brighter light shone up and to the right behind the King, followed by a concussive sound booming forth.
The other man quickly activated some form of energy, but was launched back, his sword flying from his hands as he crashed to the ground, sliding some fifteen feet on the paved ground. When he stopped, those who held their gaze on him noticed a sword pierced into his chest, crushing through his armor.
The sheeting sound again as the light abated, and the sword dissolved into gol light instantly, as well as the fallen man's own sword, though his wound remained as he bled out on the street. Throughout the encounter, the stride of the King held true, neither pausing, slowing, or hastening.
He made for the Dojo still as the crowds cried out, running, the sound alerting the guards before the calls came in, and more warriors possibly felt the challenge, ringing forth as the man walked on...[/i]
[spoiler]Open, character intro. Plus, he has a Guild, so if you would wish to join, speak with him.[/spoiler]
English
-
Laughing. Boyish laughter Alpha approached the King, laughing as hard as he could "Well well well, what's this?"
-
[i]a small little girl with blonde hair and bright green eyes. Watches the man from a safe distance from him. She was just sitting on a crate that was near the dojo's wall eating a apple. Strapped to the girl's back was a giant pair scissors. She looked no older than the age of six but there was something very off about her. She finishes her apple and continues to watch him get closer. [/i]
-
"Jesus Christ, dude. Your shoulder pads are a pain to look at!" said a bystander leaning on a wall nearby. He seemed unfazed by the Golden King and sounded just as skeptical. A charlatan, most likely, who doubted the man's abilities. He sounded young beneath the visor of his angular helmet. The figure was adorned with a thick leather motorcycle jacket with the white emblem of piano keys emblazoned upon the back. From his neck hung a wire necklace with three cylindrical tubes hanging from it, clattering gently in the wind. Murmurs broke out from warriors all around. Some skirted away from the speaker, fearing for their own lives and looking wary, thinking that the boy was about to share the same fate as the King's victim. Standing at around perhaps 5'6, the boy would have been easily dwarfed by the armour-clad King. But judging by his slumped body posture and eased muscles, anyone could tell that he was naively relax during it all. He was either an idiot or hiding something much, much more.
-
Edited by Sanctus Caesar: 1/25/2017 11:30:34 AM[i]The King... ...did not care. He walked past, neither using his abilities or giving any indication that the young man even existed. His pace went on, neither slowing nor hastens, and his gaze remained fixed on the Dojo ahead of him. Some members of the crowd began to chuckle, probably out of relief for the safety of their own life. However, soon it turned into laughter at the biker's attempt to get attention, and the subsequent lack of response from the King. Still he walked on.[/i]
-
Edited by Chinkronomicon: 1/25/2017 9:44:31 PM"Oh, haha, assholes. If you get caught in the crossfire, call me OJ Simpson - because it wasn't me." Something wrapped around the King's armoured shin, unseen yet still there. It was not a mighty force, perhaps more akin to a metal thread that obstructed a single limb. Yet it was still a hindrance nonetheless, impeding his walk lest he continue and fall. The boy had one finger eye extended nonchalantly from his crossed arms, squinting at the golden man from his position. "So you kill a dude by ramming a sword through his stomach, but you can't even step up to a kid? Sheesh. Tough luck."
-
[i]He turned to look at the young man, his red eyes shining brightly through the golden reflection, but the rest of his face obscured, hiding his emotion, if there was one. He knelt down on one knee, running his gauntleted hand down the grease until it brushed over what had caught him. A finger curled around the string just off of his leg, pulling it, then plucking it, a good thrum coming off of the taut cord. The sheening sound again as a gold disc opened up under the string, followed by another concussive boom as a knife was fired. The blade was of the ancient, lost make of Damascus steel, and coated in a layer of magic, not to mention that it had fired at a speed greater than the speed of sound up into the string. Strangely enough though, this boom seemed to echo curiously, almost as though there had been another weapon launched. There had been. As he had been feeling the string and opened the portal beneath it, another portal opened behind him simultaneously. It was aimed at the space between his chest and thigh, directly at the young boy. It had fired yet another Damascus dagger at him, flying through the space perfectly and coming right for his chest.[/i]
-
The knife slammed into the boy's body, penetrating him as he was forced into the wall behind him by the velocity of the knife. He made a few choking sounds before his head slumped... But no blood exited from the gaping wound in his chest. It was as if light itself bent around the boy as his skin faded to a translucent substance in a humanoid form. It then began to unravel itself like some kind of yarn, or rather, wire. Like cord being spun from a spool it came apart and was pulled to the left of the boy's former body as light bent again and the boy was standing there, undamaged by the knife from before. He had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, the translucent wires retreating back to him. "Where do you keep all of those things? Your ass?" Sighing, the boy got up from his leaning position as the air began to crackle around him. It sounded like dozens of unseen whips were being cracked, with the added addition of heat scorching the oxygen.
-
[i]He stood tall, the string no longer holding his leg. With the sound of clinking golden coins, the two knives dissolve into golden flecks, floating off into the air. His gaze turns on the boy again, he crosses his arms, one hand going up to support his hidden chin as he thinks. The sheening noise comes en masses as seven golden discs open behind him, seven matching weapons of varying make and style sliding partially out of them. However, they do not fire, not immediately. First, the King speaks,[/i] "[b]Mongrel. Why do you wish this upon yourself? Would your life not be easier without challenging me? Even as a mongrel, any life would be better to none. Why invite my wrath upon yourself?[/b]"
-
"Nah b, I'm just curious. Like you can teleport swords in - that's pretty lit, you feel? I'm trying to science this one out like I'm Bill Nye, because it would be sick to figure out how that shit works. Quantum displacement? Portals? The thing is with all of you high and mighty types," He gestures frantically as he talks, more air crackling around him as he speaks. "is that you have to get your attention."
-
"[b]Hmmph.[/b]" [i]grunted the King. The weapons receded and the discs shrank into themselves until they disappeared in their entirety. The King's arms come up, crossing over his chest, his right arm lifting to stroke his chin.[/i] "[b]Well. You've certainly earned my attention, mongrel. You are a step above the rest, and for that, I will speak with you. I am not in any hurry, anyways, and I would know the same things about these strings you have.[/b]"
-
"Huh? What strings?" the boy says with mock honesty. One of the people laughing at the boy from earlier suddenly trips, holding his leg as his knee hits the earth beneath him hard. Another one follows, falling onto him soon after. "Assholes," he mutters beneath his breath.
-
[b]The sounds of running came up from behind the King, as two oxes skid to a halt inches away from him. Inside the Chariot itself, was a beast of a Man. Standing over two Metres tall with bronze armor, and a grand cape covering his back. The man looked at King, speaking in a deep tone [/b] "I AM ISKANDAR! King of Conquerors!"
-
"[b]I know, Dreamer.[/b]" [i]His gait and pace does not change in the slightest, though he does turn his head to look upon the large man. It is silhouetted to any with normal eyes, but it was unmistakably looking at him. The tone of voice, lack of interest, and general sense of himself gave off the feeling that, beneath the silhouette, he was smirking.[/i] "[b]I killed you. Do you not remember?[/b]"
-
"OH I REMEMBER! Very clearly..." [b]He scratched his chin, hopping off the Chariot and walking besides the king [/b] "IT WAS... A show." [b]He laughed a deep booming laugh, a happy one [/b]
-
[i]The smirk changed to an arrogant smile as he stopped his walk, clearly interested in this moment. He turned to the other king, his hands coming palm up as the sheening sound came again, two golden discs opening up above them. Two cups slid out of the left disc, taken up by the King's left hand. From the other disc came a jug, golden even as the discs and cups were. When it came into his right hand, the discs of gold dissipated, but, unlike the weapons before, the cups and the jug stayed.[/i] "[b]You remember this drink then, false king? I recall you took a rather large liking to it.[/b]"
-
"Ha! I remember this fondly. When we spoke with that little girl..." [b]He reminisced about King Arthur [/b]
-
"[b]That...and one other time also.[/b]" [i]He, too, stood a moment, reminiscing about Arturia. He left the street then, walking to a nearby table on the patio of a restaurant. It was under an awning, so the face of the King finally came into view, though everyone had now left the streets. As expected, it was beautiful and elegant, regal and authoritative. The red eyes, likened to rubies, held steadfast on the red-headed Macedonian king, even as he sat, gesturing with the cup hand for him to take a seat.[/i]
-
[b]Iskandar, the king of Conquerors (He adores his name) took a seat at the table, facing Gilgalad. [/b] "I assume you are here the same reason I am? The blade Exaclibur has risen."
-
"[b]Hmm?[/b]" [i]His eyebrow perked in surprised curiosity as he poured out two cups of the ancient wine, sliding the Conqueror's cup over to him, then setting the jug between them.[/i] "[b]No, that's not why I'm here. At least, it wasn't. I'm here to restore order and kingship to this era, but I guess I must seek it now, return it to its rightful place in my Armory. Do you believe that Saber is here now, lingering around my sword still?[/b]"
-
"I do not sense her within this world.." [b]He swigged down the drink And slammed the glass down [/b] "There is only one explanation! The sword has found someone more suitable then you."
-
"[b]What the sword thinks is nothing to me. Whoever it desires shall take it up. Then I shall kill them, and retake what is rightfully mine. Though, I may let its new wielder accomplish some things before I kill them. It would be...entertaining.[/b]" [i]He took a drink from his cup, looking around the street, at the buildings, the signs, the posts, and Rider's own Chariot. He had only seen it once before and so took this time to look it over, and see it's make and quality, as well as the same for the two oxen pulling it.[/i] "[b]I don't believe I ever learned how you lost this Chariot the last time, before you fought me. What happened, Rider? How did you come to part with the single most important part of your identity as a Heroic Spirit last time?[/b]"
-
[b]He grimly looked over to the street, thinking of what had happened to cause him the loss of the Chariot [/b] "I was a fool, and made a grave mistake..."
-
"[b]So far as expected. Continue.[/b]" [i]The King stood, cup in hand, and walked out to it, feeling around on it. He petted the oxen some, in an uncharacteristic care for them and interest in it. He listened attentively still to the Rider's story.[/i]
-
"I seeked to challenge Saber, but she found me before I could discover her location. We battled on the road, in the mountains and she I charged her. She destroyed my Chariot, with her Noble Phantasm."
-
"[b]A pity, Iskandar. I would very much have liked to fight you while you had this. Now I feel I only beat you while you were at a disadvantage. That is not a worthy fight or victory for one such as I.[/b]" [i]He stepped up into the chariot, looking around its inside, taking a sip from his cup every now and then. Finally, he nodded, returning to the table, and sat opposite the Conqueror once more.[/i] "[b]Whatever happened to that mongrel whelp that you called a Master, Conqueror? Do you know?[/b]"
