Rusty as all hell, but I just pounded out a profile I'd like to shake at one of you.


RULES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



T1 or Hybrid
Mid level to start, will see how it progresses from there.
7 day posting time frame (Though I am going on vacation in a week, but that shouldn't be much of a problem.)
Unrealistic powered melee whatever.
No douchebagery

Accept, let me know if you want first post or second, and let's kick this shit off.

I'll accept now that I'm actually in a good position to be posting what with having a laptop now. Sorry SubjectThirteen but, your posts were seriously boring the hell out of me, and even after I got my crap taken care of on AL I couldn't muster up the resolve to throw up a reply.

You going on a vacation doesn't bother me all that much, seeing as I started working again and might be a tad bit limited as well. You generally seem to post a helluva a lot faster than I do, so I'll let you go first. Also, I'll go with the hybrid style, since it's better for crafting nice scenes, and I hate a fight without any story-value to it. PM or IM me if you're going to make a new thread for this.

They came like a flood from the clear skies, hundreds of insectile ships descending upon the cities as locusts upon a ripe field of grain.


Emerald eyes opened into blackness. For a moment he was disoriented, unsure of who or what he was, but only for a moment. As his hearts began to speed up, mainly that of Presence, the effects of cryo-sleep wore off and he remembered everything; being presented with the small craft that was his tomb, a list of coordinates to input into the ship’s computer that were likely locations for the Origin worlds, and a store of food. That was it, aside from what he carried upon his person at all times.

‘Bless the Goddess, guide my hands, my blades, my being,’ he whispered, the slight kinetic vibrations reverberating off the inner shell of his chamber. His prayer spoken, he began to wonder as to why he had been brought out of sleep. When he had entered the stasis chamber, after inputting four of the eight coordinates into the ship’s navi, he’d thought it would be his last time awake. It would take the rest of his lifetime to reach all four destinations, even with his heart rates slowed to that of normal persons.

“Open,” he said, waiting only the barest moment before a click sounded, the black panels then sliding apart to reveal his bedchamber. It was small, room only for a natural cot, a stand of drawers, a hydra station, and a small cabinet to store his foodstuffs. He left it through a grey metallic sliding door, immediately entering the bridge area. Like his chamber, it was built for necessity and not comfort or style. A single chair rested in the center of a 10x10 area, with consoles on the side of either armrest, everything he needed to control the craft from a single position. Upon one console a light slowly flashed red and emitted a constant high-pitched wail.

“Show me,” the man said softly, hardly believing that he could have reached one of his destinations, scanned for life, and actually found it so soon. The front of the room seemed to open up to outer space, blackness at first the only thing he saw. A second later though a single speck of light in the center of his view screen was magnified to the point that it filled the entire portal. “Enhance,” he ordered, watching as a city leapt into view. It appeared to be made up of sand-colored brick, but even so he could make out shapes moving down there, though not many.

Astounded, he took his seat, the Secti attached to his braids making small clicking sounds as they brushed against one another and the back of the metallic chair. Could it be possible that he had been the one to find one of the Origin worlds? One of those places that his peoples’ ancient enemies had come from, laying waste to his own planet? He would have to make certain before sending word home, for if he was wrong it could mean his own destruction at the hands of the Goddess. So thinking, his hands moved over the controls, initiating the sequence that would take his ship to the planet’s surface.



Several hours later.


The city lay spread out before him, one of four that surrounded a large body of water in their center. Broken spires and monuments riddled the metropolis, with the majority of it seeming to be in disrepair, its citizens working methodically at whichever task was currently part of their routine. They appeared to be humanoids of below average height, five feet was his best guess, in rags and sometimes nude. Most of them appeared to be laboring near enormous statues; the statues themselves weather eaten and eroding from the tops and bottoms.

He brought his small craft to a halt roughly fifty feet above a flat-roofed building, made from tan brick as everything else seemed to be on this planet. Without a need to worry about the air purity, he stepped from his chair and around it to a sunken panel just in front of the door to his chamber. There was no need to check his weapons; they never left his person, even in stasis.

The floor beneath his body melted away and he fell, hot wind assaulting him immediately, the temperature having to be in the vicinity of one-hundred degrees, standard measurement. He slowed Presence and brought his focus to Grace and Potency in equal amounts, immediately noticing the feel of power radiating along his limbs, forcing the power to his legs to prepare for impact. The molten heat of Grace flowed along his veins, doing what it could to reduce the damage to his exposed hands that the sun was causing, miniscule as it might be. In seconds he hit the roof, thick layers of dust lifting into the air as his body bent into the impact, jolts vibrating up his calves and into his thighs, but the power of Potency making them ignorable, and the power of Grace reducing the damage such impact would normally cause.

At once he stood and released his focus from Potency and Grace, Presence returning to its normal rate of roughly two-hundred beats per minute. He glanced up, green eyes squinting against a glaring sun just in time to see the hatch slide close and the vessel fade from sight. As his head came down he took in his surroundings, noting that from his vantage point things looked even worse than he had first expected.

Not able to see the inhabitants of this world, though able to hear them, he made his way across the roof to its ledge. There he stood, a figure clothed in black and grey backlit by the harsh light of the sun. A single being looked up from where he was picking withered vegetables from a dying garden, a grubby hand raising to shield the sun from his eyes. He saw a creature out of stories, a thing robed in what appeared to be darkness made flesh. In reality though, he was simply seeing the outline of the man standing above him, dark for lack of light.

Jaegur ran a hand through his mass of black braids, for the first time in his life unsure about what to do. If this man was a descended of his ancient enemy, then his Priestess had a lot of answering to do. Logic would dictate however that the individuals squatting in these ruined cities were either forgotten slaves, galactic squatters, or a degenerate offspring of a superior race.

“You there,” he called in common, a lower language, and at once read the man’s body language. His head turned slightly, dark pink tongue to dry cracked lips, hands loosening their hold on the tidbits of food he had just harvested. Before the man below could send the thought from his brain to his hands to release the food, and then send another command to his body to turn, legs to run, Jaegur’s own hands were reaching up and behind him, gripping the hilts of the twin cylindrical swords strapped to his back. He pulled them up and down in the same stroke, tapping Potency for extra power as each length of metal slammed into the building, the energy, even the sound, pulled into the blades and stored. He brought them back up to a level with his waist, and then slammed them down once more into the same location. This time he released the power that was just taken in, sending a concussive force into the wall and in effect propelling his own body forward off the roof and through the air.

In the midst of his flight, as his body was parallel with the ground, he rotated and flipped his body, slapping his swords against his back, the black material reaching out to welcome them home as he fell, still tapping Potency and then Grace. His knees bent to help absorb the shock of impact as he landed, instantly releasing the two hearts he had tapped, body straitening and a hand rising to plant in the center of the frightened man’s chest.

Dark brown eyes widened and he collapsed to the ground, forehead slamming into pavement as he began to babble. It was obvious that Jaegur was now being worshipped by a creature than stank worse than a Monk held within solitary contemplation for ten years. He had not found them.

Sighing, he folded his arms and watched as the man repeatedly slammed his head back and forth, now leaving red patches where before had been only tan.