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Legends Blade

Legends Blade

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Ikebukuro is a place that has always been captured by gang violence, so much so that it is viewed as a normal part of day to day life here. The "Urban Legends" are viewed as normal too...

OPEN AND STILL ACCEPTING!

1,250 readers have visited Legends Blade since LunaSpirit created it.

Introduction

THOSE WITH RESERVATIONS PLEASE SUBMIT ASAP


Ikebukuro is a place that has always been captured by gang violence, so much so that it is viewed as a normal part of day to day life here. Each gang having its own reputation and aims, making the city a kind of cinema for the civilians.

However, it’s best if things are always kept in hand as the tiffs often erupt into full fledged battles. The city had been quiet recently until a good amount of members from each of the three gangs are suddenly wounded, killed, kidnapped, or return with some kind of change, a false blame gets tagged on their rivals.

Another famous factor of Ikebukuro is its "Urban legends" the misunderstood and unexplained happenings in the city. Of course rumors are spread which leads to incorrect ideas, but quite a good deal of the talk is the pure truth. The legends are in fact not exactly legends; they are very real beings that wander the streets in the shadows. Of course you will never know the complete tale about them for they will most likely refuse to tell their story... You are just another insignificant piece of the town to them, whether gang leader, celebrity, or just a passerby. Boredom is their puppeteer.


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This RP is largely based around the anime Durarara!! You should check it out, however you don't have to have watched the anime to join this RP.

Gangs.

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Known for their easy going attitude, youthfulness, and liking for petty pointless fights. They are viewed as being badly led and not really having a aim. Also the gang that is most involved with drugs. They "own" the west side of Ikebukuro and their "Base" is a large abandoned warehouse. Their symbol is a canine, which some members have tattooed.

Leader: Kinjo Sadao (Hingyou)
Lieutenants(2): 1: Blade Jett (pepperx3)
Subordinates:

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The second gang is portrayed as a powerful, but peaceful and fair group. They dislike cheating, scamming, bulling the weak, and propaganda. The group is also highly intelligent and well led. The gang is more like one large family. They don't own any particular piece of Ikebukuro but their base is a large flat to the south. Their symbol is a hawk, every member has to have something to display their membership.

Leader: Rena Miyabi (LunaSpirit)
Lieutenants(2): Jeremiah David Malatone (AuraRift) Naomi Meing (PonerJ)
(And now all the resevations messed up. Um. Submit your characters then we shall sort things out. Vex remeber their are leader slots that need filling too :3)
Subordinates: OPEN

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Powerful, ruthless, deadly. Their skill is second to none and they are extremely well lead. The gang is very strict and they believe in punishment and discipline. Their base is a underground bunker and their symbol is a serpent, the higher ranking members have this scorched into their skin.

Leader: Kurou Ito (WolfDawn)
Lieutenants(2): Kisa Alessandra (BlueWind)
Subordinates: Nasami Sakura (orchestraofwolves)

Civilians
Simple people who wander the streets or Ikebukuro. Of course they ain't always that "Simple"...

Touketsu Masamune (Ryuu Takeshi)

Urban Legends
(MAXIMUM OF THREE) The odd "Mythical beings" that have found home in Ikebukuro. Some enjoy twisting up trouble for the gangs and people of Ikebukro, others are merely misunderstood. (Note only skilled RPers will be accepted as Legends)

1: Jack the Ripper (LunaSpirit)
2: Amon (Ion)
3: (Reserved for Red)
Code: Select all
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[center][color=#000000][size=200]❝Characters name here❞[/size][/color]
[size=150]Put a quote of theirs here that sums of their personality.[/size][/center]

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[right][img]URL to appearance here. Anime or some kind of art only please.[/img][/right][center][size=150]❝My shell❞[/size][/center]

[color=#000000][b]Nicknames[/b][/color]
[size=90]Can be removed if your character has none.[/size]

[color=#000000][b]Role[/b][/color]
[size=90](Gang ranking/Civilian/Legend)[/size]

[color=#000000][b]Age[/b][/color]
[size=90](put age here)[/size]

[color=#000000][b]Gender[/b][/color]
[size=90](Do I need to explain this?[/size]



[center][size=150]❝Beneath the shell❞[/size][/center]


[color=#000000][b]Personality[/b][/color]
[size=90] At least seven sentances[/size]


[color=#000000][b]Skill(s)/Abilities[/b][/color]
[size=90](self explanatory)[/size]


[center][size=150]❝All my dirty secrets.❞[/size][/center]


[color=#000000][b]History[/b][/color]
[size=90](Three sentences min.)[/size]


[color=#000000][b]Relationships[/b][/color]
[size=90](Explain their relationship with the other characters they have met so far. Please keep updating this)[/size]

[color=#000000][b]Other[/b][/color]
[size=90]Anything else?[/size]

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Toggle Rules

  • No OOC aggression. It's all teddy hugs and kisses here, but if you are rude to someone I WILL KICK YOUR MOTHERFUCKING ASS!
  • This RP is going to contain violence, bad languages, drugs, and possible sex. Join at your own risk kiddies.
  • Feel free to give suggestions, also to shout at me if I do something wrong.
  • Check OOC, that place has rainbows.
  • Literate RP. Correct spelling and Grammar. AT LEAST FOUR LINES PER POST PLEASE, COMPLETE MIN.
  • Use my character base thingy :3
  • Do be active.
  • God mods are awful, but it is expected for the legends to be more powerful.
  • HAVE LOTS OF FUN ;D

Taking place in...

Ikebukuro our primary setting

Ikebukuro is a place that has always been captured by gang violence, so much so that it is viewed as a normal part of day to day life here. Each gang having its own reputation and aims, making the city a kind of cinema for the civilians.

Ikebukuro

Ikebukuro by LunaSpirit

Ikebukuro is a place that has always been captured by gang violence, so much so that it is viewed as a normal part of day to day life here. Each gang having its own reputation and aims, making the city a kind of cinema for the civilians.

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 8 authors

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jack The Ripper Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
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9am. Summer.
The morning was warm, and so it was clear that once it reached mid day the sun would be brutally beating down upon Ikebukro, scorching the many people that wandered the city daily. Not a breeze brushed the litter across the ground and the small areas of vegetation were looking a little yellow.


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A pair of glowing scarlet eyes peered over the edge of a large skyscraper, shielded beneath a dark hood that hid a male face and his gruesome and blood stained identity. Jack had swung his legs over the ledge, allowing them to dangle dangerously but he sure looked pretty at ease despite his situation. Of course if he fell, his feet would support his weight and allow him to land crouched and cat like leaving him ever perfect and undamaged.

"It's funny..."

The being nimbly twirled his double sided blade in his finger tips by the handle; a devilish and Cheshire cat smile slowly growing across his lips under his hood. "It's funny how these humans have such a good easy life..." Ripper hissed in less than a whisper with a bubbling feeling rising in his veins, causing his palms which now tightly gripped his weapon to shake violently. "And yet they choose to be so stupid and disobedient, the fuckers ruin their own lives and they deserve to be punished for their wrong doings. I swear there's not a single one of them with out a filthy little secret behind their eyes!"

The blades went hurtling into the air and span quite a distance, a quiet whistling whir of movement trying to hush Jacks anger. As the weapon began to return to him boomerang style the raven haired youth let out a disheartened sigh before grabbing the blades and bringing it to a stop. "Fools. Every last one of them. Untamed." He sharply nodded his head backwards, wincing at the harsh sunlight that forced his pupils to dilate as his hood dropped and stopped shielding his face.

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Rena was always at the flat in the morning, after all normally she stumbled upon some company there which was more than what could be said at home. Despite living most of her childhood alone, Renny had bloomed into a social butterfly and as time had passed she began to dislike solitude with a passion. Her gang had become her closest thing to family, and so the flat that was their so called "Base" was a place that she felt safest and most welcomed at.

The crimson haired woman lay belly down upon a sofa, a pair of denim shorts flattering her backside and a casual baggy red shirt made her appear a little younger than she in fact was. Her hawk claw necklace bit between her teeth and dangled from her lips. Rena had a habit on chewing on it though it was her most prized possession, due to the fact it symbolized everything she had ever been proud of. The quiet buzz of the radio had lulled her into a state of mind where she ignored everything and just drifted off to where ever she pleased. A pencil was held loosely in her hand and she was slowly sketching upon a small A5 drawing pad.

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(Not my own drawing.)

Her drawing was of a hawk, surprise surprise! Though the image was clearly unfinished and messy what with her finger marks around the pages edge, it was never the less beautiful. It looked as though the bird was just about to scoop up some unsuspecting prey from out of the tall grass, its talons sharp and deadly. Its wings were spread displaying the elegance of its movements and the complexity of the way feathers lay in layers. Rena had captured the creature in all its glory.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amon
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#, as written by Ion
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Though by all rights the masked figure’s tread should have been heavy with fatigue and the weight of the large case he carried so easily over his back, his footsteps made no noise on the sidewalk, nor the stairs leading up into the shop he entered, though the little chime of the bell on the door alerted the old woman behind the counter to his presence. “Ah, Amon. You’re back later than usual,” she observed, voice creaky with age. Still, she of all people had nothing to fear from him, and she knew it, which was perhaps why she treated him as though he were a member of her family.

”There was an incubus in residence on thirty-third street,” Amon replied by way of explanation, and the lady nodded her understanding. It was an unspoken rule that demons on this plane of existence were something he dealt with personally and immediately, even if they fell outside of the usual parameters of his job.

“That’s the third one in as many weeks, is it not?” She asked, though both of them knew the answer. What she was fishing for was the confirmation of a different hypothesis, and he saw no reason not to provide it, pausing in his motion on his way up the stairs to the small suite of rooms he occupied at her charity. A soft exhale left him, and he reached up with his good hand to lift the mask from his face, turning just slightly so as to look at her out of the corner of his eye. Her breath caught despite herself; everyone saw something different in his face, and she for one saw faint echoes of her deceased husband and son.

”Asmodeus is toying with me,” he said, voice devoid of all feeling. He never referred to the infernal prince as his father, not even when she’d managed to guess. It hadn’t been terribly difficult for someone like her, a medium long familiar with daemonkind. He took no sleep, moved with no noise, and carried within him spiritual powers greater than she could dream of—and one only had to look at him properly to guess that his father was lord of lust rather than pride or wrath.

He proceeded up the stairs, and she turned back to her till and her storefront, mildly perturbed by this. Perhaps the Prince had become aware of his son’s desire for redemption, and now strove to tempt him back to his darker nature? It was certainly not beyond the realm of possibility, and would be at once harder and more simple than tempting a human. Amon’s will was strong, and he was cautious, but sin was part of his very being, and it was impossible to guess for how long he could continue to defy that part. The door jangled again, and the old woman turned back to face the front of her store, which dealt in good luck charms, occult artifacts, and all sorts of silly nonsense that human teenagers liked. It was, of course, a simple front: she offered genuine services as an exorcist, though most often, the man upstairs did the work nowadays, in exchange for his temporary lodgings.

“Welcome,” she told the customers, a pair of young women garbed entirely in black, with pale faces and dark makeup. One turned to acknowledge the greeting, nodding politely, but instead found herself tracking the motion of the neatly-dressed youth descending the stairs, cello case in hand, face fixed into neutrality. Amon made straight for the door, ignoring the presence of anyone else, and she shook her head as he exited, turning back to the girl, who looked now somewhat dazed, as though shed forgotten what she was doing a second ago.

“Don’t fret,” the lady reassured. “He has that effect on people.” Though not normally to such an extent. She’d have to warn him that he was doing that; he’d be not pleased about it. Any sign that his heritage grew stronger in him still tended to leave Amon ill-at-ease for extended periods of time.



Outside and thankfully unaware, Amon threaded his way through morning crowds, which wasn’t difficult when people tended to part for your height, and soon found himself at the entrance to one of the city’s more popular shopping districts. Deciding that this would do, he took up a seat on a bench and flipped his case open, withdrawing a beautiful instrument from within. With a few moments’ tuning, he readied it, then settled into place and gently lifted bow to string, drawing out the first bittersweet note of one of his favorite pieces.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Touketsu Masamune
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Touketsu Masamune




'crap how do i always get into these situations?' Touketsu thought backing up until he hit a chain link fence when faced with thugs in front of him armed to the teeth which made things very complicated. "ok nine against one is not very fair is it i mean i'm just one guy who so happened to over hear some plans why not just let me go i promise i won't tell a soul not to mention it's broad Day light right now" he said with a smile when one of them shot at him causing him to jump. "Ah ha ha!!! a gun you brought a gun isn't that over kill?" finally he gave up on trying to convince them letting his head droop and letting his blood flow freely.

"as i said nine against one isn't fair after all your way out matched." he said with a savage grin creeping along his face. "Like i said before you should have just let me go i wouldn't have told a soul." Flicking his hair out of his eye Touketsu's savage grin grew. When he finally lifted his head his head one could tell that he was lusting for blood. "Now it's time to die!!!" after that no sound could be heard from around the area as soon as the screams of the Criminals finally died down, the grass had been stained crimson with blood.

"What a glorious sight blood staining everything painting it a beautiful red now if only the screams were as glorious as the blood spilled here today" Touketsu Laughed ripping what little remained of the bodies spreading their organs across the field. "Nothing more for me to kill i want to paint this land crimson with blood!!" he called out holding a heart in his right hand. "fine then i guess there is nothing more here then a pile of corpses no more fun for me" he pouted placing everything on the ground and running off to be out of sight to try and get back to normal.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amon Character Portrait: Kisa Alessandra
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Kisa Alessandra
Kisa Alessandra smiled a good girl smile at the cashier register man who stared at her openly before thanking him like a gentle girl and walking out of the store with 25 cans of cat food. Alot of people stared when she walked out, and it wasn't because of the cans, it was her face. The crimson red ink on the right side of her face almost glittered during the day and the other midnight black tattoos always looked too black, too enticing to any on-lookers. She shook her head, causing black locks to fall into her veiw to block out a pack of Jackal boys that had suddenly appeared. They stood in her way and when she tried to move around them, they copied her movements until some older guys nearby snapped at the boys to "knock it off."
Kisa Alessandra silently sent curses at the boys before she walked around them and glided across the street and glanced back to see the group of boys eyeing her like a pack of Jackals, hence the name. Kisa Alessandra growled out a curse before crashing into someone big, male and talking on the phone. She accidently dropped the bag of cat food and took note of how the guy just walked away. Kisa Alessandra hated business men. She knelt to pick up the cat food and saw one still rolling away. She got to her feet and quickly jogged after it before it stopped somewhere near a bench inhabitated by Amon. She was about to retrieve from the ground before she heard the music Amon was creating. She paused before commenting, "Excellen-" She heard a cough of laughter that resembled that of a hyena. Kisa cut herself off as she took off, hearing laughter and mutters coming from her persuers.
Kisa Alessandra found herself running into a dark alley full of foreboding secrets. She ducked behind a garbage can and waited until she heard the familiar steps of boys. She jumped out and instinctively swung the bag of canned cat food into the first face she saw which was a tall skinny boy with greasy hair. The boy fell flat on his back, breathless and face numb. Kisa ducked yet again when one of the boys flew over her (trying to tackle her?) but then another Jackal boy takcled her and they rolled on the ground before she was able to crawl to her feet and bolted.
Kisa ran around several corners before crawling over a wire mesh fence into an enclosure. She stopped there to catch her breath and when she saw the Jackal boys appear and crawl over the fance after her she didn't run. Instead she smiled and looked to her left, the confused boys copied and froze. There were a pack of giant mastiff looking dogs that were starting to bare their teeth. Kisa Alessandra grinned before turning and crawling spider like up the fence to grab a pole sticking out of the wall beside it. She swung off the fence and onto the ground landing with a soft thud. The fence would be too big to climb for bigger, heavy weight people. That's why she liked it.
Kisa walked away and didn't bother to stop or pause even when she heard human boys screaming and dogs snarling like wild animals. She kept walking until she came to a warehouse that had probably been a machanic place from the smell of oil, grease, and dust. Kisa entered the place from a loose board in the back and walked to the center to set up the cans of cat food and opened them. She counted them afterwards and muttered something about her memory. She had forgotten to pick up the can of catfood beside the bench.
She heard some meows and hissed coming from behind to see an orange tabby kitten approach. She smiled and opened the cat food before an entire group of cats appeared. They differentiated from color to size, age and even number of limbs. The orange tabby she held in her hand was called Tuna, and was her favorite cat of out the hoard set before her. Kisa Alessandra let the kitten jump down and fight among the other felines for position and food.
Kisa Alessandra sat down on the cool cement and watched the cats eat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
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~Jeremiah David Malatone~


Jeremiah stood in the alley, blades drawn in aggression as he faced the nervous looking young man. The young fellow spoke with a stutter. "Surely... surely this isn't necessary?!" The boy stuttered. "You asked for this, don't doubt yourself when you stand on the precipice of your advancement." Jeremiah answered before charging forward. "No opponent will wait for your uncertainty!" He swung down in a sweeping arc with his gunblade, onyx. The boy barely leaping out of the way before the strike cleaved him in two. "Y.. you're insane! You could have killed me!" The boy cried, drawing his own basic longsword in defense. Jeremiah smiled and clicked his left arm and allowing the dark blade Ebony to extend from his elbow. "I am not insane boy! I am acting as your enemy would you need to decide if you will stand up and fight back or if you are even strong enough to do so!" Jeremiah charged forward spinning in a vortex, slicing out with Ebony and Onyx in tandem, the boy forced further down the alley and tripping over a piece of scrap metal. With a slight sigh, Jeremiah sheathed his weapons. This initiate was doing a magnificent job of failing, he was attempting to train the boy, show him a true combat situation, but he was doing remarkably terrible. Jeremiah began to walk out of the alley and the boy shouted after him. "Hey wait, sir! What about my training!" Jeremiah turned his head back slightly and replied in a blunt voice. "Learn the basics of how to defend yourself, then I might consider helping you." Then, leaving the boy in utter shock, Jeremiah left the alleyway and the young initiate behind.

When he finally arrived at the flat, Jeremiah sighed and sheathed both of his blades, Onyx in its holster and Ebony retracting back into its dormant position, something to note about Ebony was that it was a mechanical elbowblade, meaning it could grow to full length aswell as sink into itself at the click of button. Jeremiah was wearing his usual outfit, white dress shirt coupled with a black tie and covered almost entirely by a contrasting blue hoodie and baggy navy jeans which appeared to be slightly ripped in multiple places. He swung the door opened and sighed, believing himself to be alone, he allowed himself a quick break in his usually calm and serious demeanor and sighed loudly, before speaking to himself. "The quality of initiates has really been dropping as of late... I mean that kid looked like he'd never seen combat in his life..." He frowned. "Then again I suppose he didn't have anywhere else to go, like me in a way. Though I had experience and potential whereas he did not... it is after all what earned me this lieutenant position." It was at this moment that Jeremiah noticed the radio playing. "Oh someone IS here..." He walked further inside to the room where the radio was playing.

There was his leader, lying belly down upon a sofa, radio providing a background hum to the whole situation. Rena seemed to be in a state where the only thing catching her attention was her drawing and slowly beating music of the radio, so he walked inside the room fairly unnoticed and silently knelt down to peek over her shoulder and see what she was drawing. A hawk. Unsurprising really, she had started the shards and with there symbol being what it was there was no surprise that Rena had a liking for the animals. The drawing was actually very good, for a rough sketch that is, it was very well presented and drawn, maybe a little bit messy around the edges but impressive nonetheless.

Jeremiah spoke, loud enough to be heard over the radio, addressing the Shards leader in the over polite tones he would often vocalize. "An impressive drawing you have there Miss Miyabi..." Jeremiah paused to stand up from his kneeling position. "It is honestly quite appealing to the eye..." He finished his compliment, compliments weren't something he often gave out so when you did receive one from him you knew it was in earnest.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
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"The quality of initiates has really been dropping as of late... I mean that kid looked like he'd never seen combat in his life..."
"Then again I suppose he didn't have anywhere else to go, like me in a way. Though I had experience and potential whereas he did not... it is after all what earned me this lieutenant position."


The words that slid past Jeremiahs lips mingled with the lyrics of a song on the radio, and blended into nothing causing Rena to completely ignore anything he had said. The red haired woman twirled the talon charm on her necklace with her tongue, absently flipping and flicking it in a childlike manner. Her hand still lightly grasped the pencil and pulled it back and forth lazily, gently shading in the underbelly of the hawk drawing. The creaking of footsteps upon floorboards still did not awake her from the trance. Even though she was supposed to be constantly on her toes (What being a gang leader and all) Renny just simply was far too lazy and focused to notice the approaching of what could be a potential attacker.

The blonde haired male crouched behind her and yet Rena still noticed not a thing out of place, she did not even so much as twitch to his movements. She just continued to shade the lower part of her sketch pad until...

"An impressive drawing you have there Miss Miyabi..."


A voice like silk. The sentence rolled from his tongue with much ease as raindrops would run along a leaf. Despite that fact, the scarlet haired woman leaped half a mile, her body violently in spasm sending the pencil flying to the other side of the sofa. She then curled onto her back, looking up at Jeremiah with big bewildered light auburn eyes. "You startled me!" Rena cried, before slowly falling into a light round of sweet laughter that could have caused angels to fall. "When did you get here? Oh...um...and thank you. It's nothing really, I was just a little bored." She sure did appreciate his comments on her drawing, for she knew that if he was to compliment her, it would be the most utter white truth and she would have earned his fondness.

Now Renny had been ripped from her trance, which she quite honestly did not mind as she enjoyed Jeremiahs company greatly which could be more the what some of the other Shards could say, she tugged herself off the sofa and stretched letting out a groan as she did so. "What a completely wonderful morning, don't you agree Sir? I think it is the finest we have had all year." The red head forced her voice into a melodramatic formal tone as a way of mimicking her lieutenants usual speech. It was her own decorated way of saying "Loosen up" or just of simply being a bittersweet tease. Of course she was sure it would take more than a few comments from herself to change him, not that she wanted that at all. Rena then gave a swift wink at the blonde before turning down the radio with a flick of her fingers which allowed their conversation to be more audible.

"Anything new? Or is everything just as dull as usual..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
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~Jeremiah David Malatone~


Jeremiah just stared on plainly at Rena as she jumped, clearly startled by his voice even though he had made the physical effort to talk in an unassuming manner. While most would have found this amusing enough to at least smirk, Jeremiahs face remained one of a calm and unassuming lack of emotion, however it was not the circumstance that Jeremiah was not the kind of person to smile full stop. To stand as proof for this a polite smile appeared on his face as a reaction to Renas laugh. "I startled you?" He replied. "Well Miss Miyabi as esteemed leader of the shards and a high priority target do you not think to keep your guard up when it is needed? I say this remember, not out of disrespect, but out of discretionary worry for your safety." Jeremiah explained. "Say now, in a purely hypothetical scenario, that I had been your enemy. A swift draw of my blade and slice of your neck and suddenly the Shards come home to find a dead leader and some stains upon their couch that just won't come off without the appropriate washing detergent." If it were anybody else that last part would have seemed like a joke, but Jeremiah wasn't exactly the type to be joking. Not to mention his smooth tones bore not the slightest piece of sarcasm as he spoke.

"When did you get here? Oh...um...and thank you. It's nothing really, I was just a little bored." Rena asked, seemingly awkward about his compliment he noticed... or perhaps embarrassed. An unnecessary reaction but he supposed an understandable one. He didn't give out compliments unless he actually believed them to be true, after all. "When I got here? A mere few moments ago, I had been speaking to myself actually, yet with that admittedly dreadful music and your vulnerable trance like state you seemed to be ignorant to my arrival." He was really laying into the fact that she had been leaving herself open to attack. It was true that Jeremiah had great respect for Rena, after all considering the fact she ran the organisation that acted as one of the three most influential gangs in the city aswell as the closest thing Jeremiah had ever felt to a home and large family, all he might add, at the age of twenty... It was hard for Jeremiah not to respect her. He didn't look up to her mind you, as he felt that she made stupid mistakes from time to time. But he did respect her. However despite this respect and the fact that she held a higher position than he did, he was in no way afraid to scold her. After all if he didn't remind her of the silly and potentially dangerous mistakes she may have made then nobody would. In a way it was Jeremiahs method of showing he was actually bothered about Renas safety and if anyone were to question him for being disrespectful he would simply respond, "If I didn't give a care in the World about Miss Miyabi then I would simply allow her to continue any foolish antics without a single word in edge ways. In a method of speaking I probably hold more respect for her than most others do."

"What a completely wonderful morning, don't you agree Sir? I think it is the finest we have had all year." Rena said after standing from the sofa and stretching with a groan. She was mocking Jeremiahs polite means of speaking in jest. The words leaving her mouth with a melodramatic overly formal tone. "Tch, cute, but it doesn't really suit you... Rena..." He spoke the name awkwardly as if respecting her wishes to "loosen up" but at the same time taking a large step outside of his comfort zone. Rena gave a wink in Jeremiahs general direction to which he responded with a subtle raise of his eyebrow, as if the gesture confused him ever so slightly. To Jeremiahs great pleasure Rena then proceeded to turn the volume of the radio down, lowering the annoying music to a decent level which they could talk over without much difficulty.

"Anything new? Or is everything just as dull as usual..." Rena asked. Jeremiah, deciding it best not to bring up the terrible failing of the initiate from earlier so as not to ruin the content atmosphere of the conversation with a serious topic, sat down on the sofa and sighed silently, even his exhale coming out in a calm and collected demeanor. "Nothing worth pleasant discussion..." He murmured. "To be quite honest the morning has been all around uninteresting..." He looked up at her. "And what of you, Miss Miya... Rena... has the young and free-spirited leader of the shards been up to anything interesting this morning? Apart, of course, from waiting to be killed." He may have been pushing it slightly at that point but it was just who he was, he had a feeling Rena wouldn't mind too much anyway.

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Kurou had halted his footing adjacent to a neglected warehouse. The potent smell of oil and grease infiltrating his nose was not the core of his intrest, rather, he had felt a living presence prickle his nape, bringing his awareness to a pair of eyes. The choleric amber orbs glowered at him, ablaze with the ferocity of a frightened animal. Their owner, crouched, with hackles raised, and tension building in the muscles of its legs like a coil. The small feline was prepared to leap at any moment, either to launch itself in fight or flight. Every hair stood on end as the kitten bristled with wariness, eyes never faltering in their hateful glare. Playful garbs of curiosity piqued Kurou's attention. As Kurou approached, its lips pulled back to bare fangs, small body hunching inward to itself to shape an arch. Another step closer in closing the distance, the kitten discharged a snarl like a low warning siren. It had deemed Kurou as a threat and stood on it’s defense, it would not permit him to come any closer.

Steadily lowering his body, Kurou squatted, supporting his weight on the balls of his feet. Edging his body mass forward, Kurou extended an arm from his elbow. He offered his hand to the kitten, idle fingers curled in a loose fist, an act of passive contact to pacify the animal's apprehension. The kitten however lashed out, powering its attack with the momentum of it's lunge. Unsheathed claws lanced his wrist and lukewarm sensation pooled to the area of infliction. Instinctually Kurou's arm recoiled, withdrawing to his chest. A single rivulet of dripping crimson welled from the scratch. Raising his arm aloft Kurou brought his mouth to press against his skin, blood melding his lips to his wrist. Slipping from his mouth, came his forked tongue to slither over his forearm, lapping at the cut. Salvia probed the incision, and diluted the keen shade of red to pink as it mingled with his blood. As the metallic-sweet sensation of flavor seeped gradually into his taste buds, Kurou let his arm fall into place at his side. Kurou hauled himself to a stand, In the mind of the kitten his swelling hight was understood as a semblance of asserting dominance. It backed up, inch by inch, the looming shadow of the wear house nipping at its rear.

As though imbued with a sudden energy Kurou brushed aside the flank of his shirt to reveal a gun holster at his hip and drew the handgun from its confines in a single fluid movement. His fingers innately seeked the shallow impressions of the silhouetted grip, his index finger adjusted to curl around the trigger, but refrained in touching it. He was vaguely aware of the snags caused from the rough patches of paint rubbing against his palm. The handgun seemed to click into place as he trained it on the kitten, he anticipated the connect of the bullet. Easing his finger tip into contact with the cold metal of the trigger, he simultaneously flicked up the safety with his thumb.

The air reverberated with the echo of an earsplitting rattle. A mild pressure remained laden upon his ears even as the explosion of sound ebbed. His fingers welcomed a familiar numbness to fan through them, seemingly allowing it to reach his brain as the same numbness dribbled down his conciseness. The kitten's body had already collapsed, an island of matted black fur in the small sea of red. The steady current flushed from the location of it's former amber eyeball, reduced to resemblance of a fleshy pomegranate. Kurou crouched once again, this time there was no rebuke to reject his extended hand. His fingers gingerly skimmed an area unadulterated with gore. Still warm. The corpse would continue to mimic the body temperate of the living until the heat in its core would dissipate.

Perhaps he shouldn't have wasted a bullet.

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Thousands of years tended to guarantee that nothing which ever happened to you was a surprise any longer, and Amon had learned to appreciate the monotony of sameness. Of course, perhaps to a human, his days would have seemed to have much variety, indeed; he had travelled the world, met people of all kinds, seen its greatest wonders and simplest joys. He’d been disconnected from it, then as now, though in his youth it had not always been the case. He had used to care once, about people and places and things, but now he merely acted from the same stale duty and obedience he had always known.

When he had first picked up the cello, it was like coming to understand the world anew, to look at it through different eyes. Her eyes, more properly, for it had been she that taught him this, though a hundred years of practice had given him more precise skill than she could have ever hoped to possess.

”I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” she’d said, seated before him and watching the movements of his hands with wistful eyes. ”It’s like you’re talking with your soul.”

He hadn’t had the hear tot tell her that there was no soul there for him to speak with. Still, even after she was long gone and he’d long run out of reasons to play, he did. Occasionally, passers-by would drop money atop his closed case, but that was not the reason he played. Still, he was not going to stop them; their generosity was better for them than it was for him, in reality.

His thoughts, wandering as they usually did during activities like this one, were brought back to the present by the sound of a voice: feminine, from the timbre. He glanced upwards, not interrupting the motions of his bow, held delicately in his bandaged hand. Though he was no longer surprised by anything, he would have to admit that it was not every day even he saw a lady so heavily-inked, the patterns a mixture of red and black, swirling over her skin like some kind of arcane script. Of course, if it had been, he’d have been able to tell what it said, but the effect was interesting all the same.

About half a word had left her when she turned abruptly and darted away. Amon caught the sight of what appeared to be a small pursuit, but it was not his business to interfere. Death was not allowed to play favorites, nor to assist directly in matters which he had not been ordered to take care of. He sensed, however, that it was not this woman’s time to die, and in doing so, he knew she would be fine.

A soft sound on the pavement caught his attention, and Amon looked down, feeling a slight bump as a metal cylinder collided with his foot, presently clad in a black leather boot. He paid it little mind at first, finishing the piece he was playing to a smattering of applause from those around before he stilled a moment and stooped, picking up the cylinder and examining it. The runes upon the surface indicated that it was food for cats, which was a bit strange. The woman had been carrying quite a lot of these. She probably wouldn’t miss one, but it seemed untoward to simply carry on with his day and ignore the fact.

Shrugging, Amon broke with his schedule for once and placed his cello back in the case with its bow and the several other items he kept in there, and slung the entire thing over his back, taking up the tin in one hand.

It was not difficult to track the woman’s progress, really, and the trail of unconscious bodies just made things incredibly simple. Amon hopped a fence or two, quite certain he was not currently being observed, and arrived at what seemed an abandoned warehouse shortly after. Tilting his head to one side, he caused a few errant strands of shimmering black to fall over his shoulder though he paid it no mind. He was unsure of the etiquette in situations such as this one; he did not want to get shot and then have to explain why the wound healed and he wasn’t dead.

Still, the direct approach was probably best, and he entered the building, unknowingly through the very same entrance the woman had used, which meant that he had to stoop considerably before straightening back up to his full height. How he managed to get his case through was perhaps more magic than engineering, but it made no sound, anyway. A short distance from his location, he heard the telltale signs of several cats, and the mystery of why she’d been carrying so much of the food was solved.

Amon approached from behind, allowing his feet to scuff slightly on the floor to alert her to the presence of someone else. Once he had her attention, he produced the remaining tin, rolling it across the floor to her. ”I believe you forgot something,” he said simply, then turned to leave.

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Kisa Alessandra
Kisa Alessandra didn't like cats, dogs, or animals of any sort, due to the fact that all animals hated her but cats were the only ones able to at least tolerate her, like now. Tuna, the orange tabby was rubbing against her knees after just having been mauled by a female calico that was maybe a little too aggressive when it came to feeding time. Her sister would've have said that the Calico and her were alike, but her sister wasn't here and it was just her. She was about to stand to leave when she heard a slight scuffing sound. She turned her head sharply to see a man, the man from the bench with the music instrument.
The man was tall, and just... Dark and handsome. Dark and Handsome weren't what she'd use to describe him but they were as close as she could come to what she thought of him. He was almost Darkness personified. But before she could actually make up a thought of him, he produced the lost tin and rolled it across to her.
”I believe you forgot something.”
Kisa Alessandra reached out a tattooed hand to stop it from rolling into her. She glanced at it and then watched him turn to leave. Normal, upper class manners damanded she thank him and introduce herself, but street rats like her didn't, but something compelled her to say or at least do something.
Thankfully Tuna gave her something to both say and do. He turned his attention on Amon and trotted up to him hesitantly before rubbing his body against the man's leg. He started purring while looking up Amon's face. Huh. Guess the cat approves. She thought before casting her judgment on the guy.
Kisa Alessandra rolled the can back to him. "Tuna chooses his servant." She motioned at the can that rolled and fell with a sound of clattering metal. Tuna meowed. Kisa made a sound at the back of her throat before speaking. "He wants you to open the can so you can feed him."
Alessandra then turned her gaze to his case before drumming her fingers on the ground. She wanted to ask a qustion that would make her seem... Not so cold, and it was true. Right now, she wasn't being aggressive and as cold as she would have been had Amon been someone like Kurou or the subordinate prostitute in their gang. She was just being... Alessandra, not Kisa Alessandra, or even Kisa. She was Alessandra for the moment. And so she mulled it over. He probably already thought of her as a harmless little girl that had no troubles and was a cat freak. What more could degrade her reputation right now?
"What was that? The -" She searched for a word. "-thing you were playing in The Public?" Alessandra said it as if there was only one public. She also hadn't exactly mentioned what she was asking about.

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Amon’s forward progress was halted by a bandied orange cat, which had seemed to decide that it wished something from him. He stopped, not desirous of kicking or injuring the creature by mistake, and to his surprise, the woman chose to speak to him then. Perhaps it should not have surprised him; many humans were given to speaking, and no few of them chose to speak with him, but she had seemed preoccupied with the animals, and he had been inclined to simply leave.

Still, he lowered the case from his back, gently leaning it against a wall, and sank fluidly into a crouch. His bandaged arm reached behind him, intercepting the tin in its course without the need for him to look. Bringing it back around, he peeled the top back and laid the can down in front of the cat, who gave a satisfied meow and gingerly began to eat. He ran his good hand down the creature’s back, earning himself what sounded to be a half-rumbled noise of approval from the cat.

The question was phrased oddly, if he thought about it. He wasn’t sure if she was asking after the name of the instrument, or the song he’d been playing with it. He’d think it very strange indeed if a human did not know what a cello was, and yet there had been a time when he hadn’t, either. “The piece is referred to as ‘The Swan,’ by the composer Saint-Saens. It is part of a larger composition, however. It can be played on any number of instruments, but I prefer the cello for its timbre.” If there was one thing that earned more than the shortest answer possible from Amon, it was a query into music, and there was no particularly modern vocabulary to stumble over, so the sentence was fluent, velvety baritones and no unwieldy stuttering.

”This cat is named for a fish,” he continued, his brow furrowing slightly, as if with confusion, and he turned his head slightly so that he was making eye contact directly with the woman, still bent at the knees so as to be close to the ground. ”Why?” He knew that humans tended to keep pets and name them, but this was rather like naming a dog ‘turtle’ and seemed only to confuse the matter.

The fact that he was having this conversation at all was a bit surreal, if Amon were being honest with himself. When he talked with anyone aside from the old woman at the shop, or her, so long ago, it was always about business. This was decidedly not, and it left him somewhat unsure of what to say, or do. The cat named like a fish, who had by this time eaten until he was full, demanded further ministrations by shoving his head into Amon’s imperfect hand, apparently unbothered by it. Ah, but of course. Animals never were; it was as though they understood that he was nothing to fear. Death was part of the natural order of things, and though animals sought to preserve their lives, they did not fear him as men did. He complied with the wordless demand, adjusting his fingers to rub at the spot behind the cat’s left ear. A thrumming purr signaled Tuna’s approval, and something about Amon’s posture relaxed, just a little, a few of the ever-present lines of tension receding from his face, softening his flinty stare.

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Nasami Sakura

Nasami was woken up by a small ray of sun that peeked through a crack in the wall of the old warehouse. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling of her bedroom. A small, dirty room. Her home, lack of better word. Hoping that they forgot to lock her door she got out of bed. She was lucky today, it was unlocked. Carefully opening it an inch she peeked through. Just checking if nobody was there. It was completely silent. Walking on her toes as silent as possible she headed towards the stairs. So far so good, she went downstairs. Just two steps removed from the end she heard a gun shot. A shock went through her body and she gasped for air. Completely scared by the idea of anyone heard her she was paralysed for a second. All she did was hoping the person behind the door hadnt heard her or wasnt planning on going upstairs .

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Kisa Alessandra
“The piece is referred to as ‘The Swan,’ by the composer Saint-Saens. It is part of a larger composition, however. It can be played on any number of instruments, but I prefer the cello for its timbre.” Kisa Alessandra looked like she wasn't paying attention at that moment since she was pulling kittens from her shoulders and fending a white one off that had decided her hair was meant to be a toy, but she really was. She showed this by nodding briefly as if taking in the information before she pulled her hand back from the calico that had gotten to close for comfort. Her thoughts strayed to the instrument hidden somewhere in all the junk behind the car at the back of the warehouse. She hadn't seen, touched or even smelled her sister's instrument since... Alessandra pulled her thoughts from the forebidden thoughts. ”This cat is named for a fish,” Alessandra looked up at Amon and noticed that his eyes seemed to change color. ”Why?”
"I found them in a tuna crate, and even when I brought them here, he still sleeps in the tuna crate." Alessandra paused before asking another qustion. "Your looking at me, but I think your not really seeing me." She blinked as if confused. "Who do you see?" Then, as if something dawned on her she looked away and shook her head. "Never mind that qustion." Allie stood and dusted off her pants before blurting out the qustion that has been on her mind since he showed up and she asked him about what he was playing in the public. "Do you know how to play the violin?" She darted to the back of the warehouse and started throwing things around from behind the rusted old car. She pulled out a broken chair and threw it aside with a clatter before pulling out a T-shirt. On it was a cobra. She muttered something under her breath before also throwing it aside. She looked up and and glared at the violin case on the shelf that was clearly out of her reach.
Alessandra looked over the roof of the car at Amon. "Um. Can you grab the violin case that is, sadly, out of my reach?" She flicked her gaze from the tall man to the violin case covered in dust and cobwebs. Her tattooed face, her almost-not-really-tattered clothing and her black hair and blue eyes somehow made her seem to fit in a little with the warehouse. Except there was something there that clearly said she wasn't similiar to the place, or her 'bad-ass' reputation. She just looked... Like she didn't belong there or anywhere else.

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Amon supposed the explanation made as much sense as any. Many things in the humans’ world were like that: nonsensical on the surface of them, but a little more understandable with proper background. Some things, however, never did make much sense to him at all. Why did they kill each other? Why did some have much and others nearly nothing at all? Why did those with quite a great deal fall more easily to temptation than those with barely enough? Their psychologies were difficult to understand, even if he had a better shot at the effort than any full-blooded member of his kind.

Her question perplexed him. Not seeing the ‘real her?’ What other ‘her’ was there to see? He was aware that things were often not as they appeared, but he had made no effort to read her history from her body language, from her words. He had simply accepted what was presented, as he usually did. Amon knew better than most that everyone had secrets, and it was none of his business what they were, unless the powers that be made it his business. That he allowed the world around him to maintain a little mystery even now was perhaps the only thing that kept him sane. He could always entertain doubts that they were all as the ones he killed, if he didn’t know them. If he did, well… he dreaded what he might find.

But, she cancelled her own question, and he respected that, choosing not to give it any of the myriad answers he could have conjured, confused though many of them would have been. Humans were perplexing creatures. The next question was much easier. “To an extent, yes.” It was not his instrument of choice, but of course he’d dedicated nearly a century to the study of music, as she’d wanted him to, and so he was to some degree proficient in anything with strings, the piano, and a few others besides. He liked that they had nothing to do with his actual occupation. It was almost possible to forget, when he played. And for a little while, that was permissible.

He noted the pattern on the garment with some recognition, but said nothing of it, and when she made the request he acquiesced not with words, but with motion, gliding to her side and reaching up above her head to retrieve the desired object, handling the case with the reverence and care that he’d always been taught instruments were due. He presented the case to the woman, holding it out upon both of his flattened palms, one at the base of the neck and the other at the tail of the hardened black plastic of the case.

“I could,” he said slowly, still befuddled by the first question but unsure why, “say the same of you. I think it is a broader condition of people, and nothing to do with you or I.” Surely, nobody looked at him and saw what was really there, at least not before the hour of their deaths. He was, he was certain, only himself when the gates of hell opened behind him, heeding his call to come and consume the soul of another whose time it was to pass into the ether. He wasn’t convinced that there was anything inherently wrong with this, either. His mask, either the obvious one or the one he wore now, was much easier to deal with than what he was without it.

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Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
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"Well Miss Miyabi as esteemed leader of the shards and a high priority target do you not think to keep your guard up when it is needed? I say this remember, not out of disrespect, but out of discretionary worry for your safety."
"Say now, in a purely hypothetical scenario, that I had been your enemy. A swift draw of my blade and slice of your neck and suddenly the Shards come home to find a dead leader and some stains upon their couch that just won't come off without the appropriate washing detergent."


Of course Jeremiah could not have responded with something that even resembled amusement. He gave a very logical and formal answer that Rena could not help but smirk at. She listened with bright eyes and a risen crimson eyebrow, hands on her hips and her body bent to one side in a somewhat cocky lean. The words only drifted over the top of her mind, but she did understand what he was saying, a warrior with no armor was sure to end up dead. Rena had dropped her guard and had not even heard of a being entering the flat with out any plans of assassinating her; if someone had tried to sneak in quietly and unnoticed, it would not be very difficult at all. The woman let out a splutter of a laugh at his last comment though his expression remained as empty as the cloudless sky outside. "You never disappoint me, always giving a intellect and detailed answer no matter what. I do understand and I apologize, I just got lost elsewhere that's all. You know what I am like..."

"When I got here? A mere few moments ago, I had been speaking to myself actually, yet with that admittedly dreadful music and your vulnerable trance like state you seemed to be ignorant to my arrival."

At this point Renny rolled her pupils at the blonde male before her. He was like a tiny jack rustle biting at her ankles before latching on and clinging there. She could have described him as annoying, but still she knew that without him by her side she would most likely be spending her life in a coffin by now. So she allowed him to, but still shot him a sharp glance that sparked a sense of her ordering to back down, if he obeyed or not was up to himself.

"Tch, cute, but it doesn't really suit you... Rena..."

The sentence sounded awfully foreign leaving his lips, but still she smiled lightly at his attempt of a casual, maybe even smug conversation. It kind of reminded her of Jeremiah's casual blue hoodie that lay against a inner shell of formal clothing such as his white shirt and tie, sure it looked rather odd but for some reason or another it worked. Of course she would never be able to rid him of his usual calculating self because with out that he would be stripped bare of personality and soul.

"Nothing worth pleasant discussion..."
"To be quite honest the morning has been all around uninteresting..."
"And what of you, Miss Miya... Rena... has the young and free-spirited leader of the shards been up to anything interesting this morning? Apart, of course, from waiting to be killed."




Renny laughed upon his stumble of words when meeting her name, he truly was trying his best. "Nothing, but then again that is not exactly a bad thing. It just feels a little too quiet though, as though they are laying low for a reason or another. The air just feels heavy too...like...I don't know..." She muttered quietly, half of the sentence more spoken to herself than her companion. "They" of course were the Bullets and the Mayhem, they were a noisy bunch of toerags unlike the Shards who often just kept to themselves. Still it had been a few weeks since the last tiff or two, which was very unusual indeed. Almost as unusual as the ending to Rena's reply. She had been known to subtly sense when something deadly was ahead, though of course it was more than likely just coincidence, that feeling still swarmed her body and it made her jutter with nerves.

"What do you mean by "Nothing worth pleasant discussion..." Are you alright? How about we grab some brunch in a little while? My belly's growling like a dragon!"

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The raven haired boy pressed his lips into a fine line, losing himself in anger and hatred that the humans had caused him. He blamed them. Slowly the violence and meaningless society of Ikebukuro life was tearing chucks away from his soul, driving him more and more towards insanity. Though it was not just this particular city that was rotting, it was the whole god damn world and Jack had to sit their for how ever long his lifetime was and watch it burn to ash. He had started his bloody business back in England in 1888 as he reaped a good handful of women's life for using sex (What he believed to be the display of love, creation, and simply mere pleasure) as a business.

The Ripper then pounced from the skyscraper before falling into a swan dive where it felt like he hung in mid air for a good few seconds until he was forced to curl his body into a landing position. He struck the ground hard causing the tiny dust and pebble partials to swoop up into the air around him, still he slowly pulled himself upwards, completely unharmed. As he landed, a ear splitting sound forced the birds to soar into the sky, fearful cawing escaping their beaks against the beating of wings in the air. Of course Jack knew that the sound belonged to a gun, and he noted that these weapons only ever caused pain and sin. His first reaping of the day? Sounded fun.

The male smirked devilishly before streaking down a back ally, the bottoms of his shoes smacking hard against the ground as he seemingly leaped in and out of the shadows. He moved in pure silence, which would seem to be impossible but literally not the tiniest skid upon the ground displayed his presence. A sharp eye would only be his give away. It did not find Jack long to find the owner of the gun, as the air stank of blood even though the victims corpse was so small. A kitten. The killer murdered a kitten. Jack could not help but laugh aloud in a manic manner that caused his ribs to hurt so much that he had to clutch at his stomach and force the chuckles back into his throat.

"How pointless...Merely a feline. What a coward, killing a creature that could only fight back with a slight scratch. Murdered with a bullet. Bullets are quick, powerful, dangerous...but incredibly unfair. I view guns as cheating. It takes no skill to tug at a trigger to take a life. How boring and simple. You are exactly like a gun aren't you Kurou Ito?!"

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Kisa Alessandra
Kisa Alessandra watched him grab the case with ease and held it out to her in his flat palms. She hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure of herself. Thankfull Amon spoke before she did and she looked up at him. "I could,” he spoke slowly as if confused about her earlier qustion, “say the same of you. I think it is a broader condition of people, and nothing to do with you or I.” The answer was an odd one and she pretended that she hadn't heard him, her blue eyes trying to search his face, yet she saw no face. I didn't notice, she thought before squinting her eyes. All she saw were blue eyes and pale skin, nothing else. He had no facial features, yet she could somehow tell he was beautiful. It was odd. It was like he wearing someone else's face, but she couldn't see THAT person's face that he wore to hide himself. Alessandra hadn't noticed that when she saw him, and she was barely realizing that now.

Alessandra looked back down at the violin case just as a ringing began to echo through her head. A ringing that started out as the tinkles of a small bell, that grew and blossomed into a roaring so loud it thundered out everything. All she could see was a black dusty case, and... Allie moaned before taking a step back and leaning on the old car door, she motioned with her hand to Amon. "You open it. Please?" She pulled a bottle of pills out opened it and swallowed almost a dozen little white pills that would push back the pain of her migraine.

Alessandra closed her eyes as she waited for the meds to kick to in, and while waiting she thought of the violin her sister had loved more than herself. She remembered the shiny little instrument with it's f holes on both sides of the strings. The stick thing her sister called a bow. She remembered stealing it from the guy on the street and running away with the loot, just for her sister a few years back. When she had had only the red tattooes.

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(Somebodeh post Q.Q)

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Amon had to admit, he was somewhat confused by this human. Her behavior was beginning to seem a bit... erratic. For a long while, she seemed intent on his face, which was perhaps not the most unusual thing he'd ever come across. He'd been gifted with sharp facial lines and an aristocratic bone structure due to his father, but the aquiline nose and clear blue of his eyes were his mother's alone. That said, people usually did try to disguise the fact that they were staring, and they didn't look quite like she did. It was like she saw something that bothered her. He entertained for the briefest moment the thought that he might have unwittingly transformed, and that he was now a deep red color, among other things, but a surreptitious glance at his good hand proved that this was certainly not the case. He wore not the black and white mask today, so she couldn't simply be wondering what was underneath.

Perhaps she wasn't looking at him at all, but rather remembering something. The old woman at the shop was like that, sometimes.

Then she groaned, apparently in pain of some kind, though it appeared to him to have come from nowhere at all. Her request for a moment went unanswered, as he watched her swallow several objects from a bottle, medication, probably, and closed her eyes. Amon knew how to deal pain, but very little of assuaging it, and so he occupied himself opening the case, setting it down upon the floor and prizing open the slightly-rusted hinges. He wondered how long it had been since the thing had last seen any use.

The violin itself was not in bad shape, though neither was it pristine. It was of workable but not exemplary quality, the sort of thing a street musician might own. He lifted it gently by the neck, plucking each string softly to test its tune. A few were in need of adjustment, and this he did as well, with gentleness unusual to him, and then he set it back down in the velvet of the case's lining, and examined the bow. A few of the horsehairs were broken, but it appeared to be in decent shape overall. Rising, he made his way over to his own case and cracked it open. The cello proper was in one compartment, his scythe secreted away in another, but he reached for neither of these things, instead reaching for his resin.

This, he applied in broad strokes to the bow, smoothing the surface for the proper amount of friction between itself and the strings it would play over. When this was completed to his satisfaction, he put the resin down atop his case and replaced the bow of the violin in its slot within the case.

"It is playable now, should you wish it," he told the woman plainly, gesturing lightly to the arrangement. He did not know if she even knew how, as the condition of the violin spoke of some considerable time since it was last used, but all the same he'd felt it necessary to rectify the situation. An instrument should not be left as that one had been, at any rate.

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Kisa Alessandra
Kisa Alessandra looked up at Amon when he spoke. Her headache was slowly ebbing away, but there was another qustion in her head, one she could blame the medication for bringing up, or both the qustions. She cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak - except nothing came out. She lost her courage to speak. She could say they in her head, but she couldn't really ask Amon. It was like speaking to a giant who didn't show much expression or even showed a hint of feeling, and it tweaked her somehow. She didn't like the way he just stood there. So, when her words did come back she asked the one qustion on her mind. Well, more like blurted out the qustion. "Why do you do that!? Hide, or just pretend?" Her eyes fell to the ground for a moment and she tried to explain. "I mean, like wear someone else's face and pretend to... not feel? Ugh, I'm sorry but its hard to explain what I see."

Alessandra shuffled her feet and pretended to find the old car structure intresting before she reached out to the instrument. She flinched when her hand slid over the finish. Without knowing it, she let out a content sigh as if she hadn't really felt... sure. The back of her hand was decorated with butterflies and thorny vines. It even looked like there was a snake hiding among the butterflies, it's cold icy gaze staring back at her face. It seemed to move, it's tongue flickering and the butterflies moving away from the serpent. Allie pulled her hand back as if the instrument had bitten her.

Kisa Alessandra stuck her hands in her pocket and stared innocently at Amon. it seemed that when she stared at his face, it almost seemed like he didn't know what to think of it, like he was just uncomfortable with or expecting it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Blaze Jett
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Blaze Jett



It was late afternoon and Blaze was sent by the boss to go deal some of the goods. Walking around Ikebukuro she finally reached the warehouse. The garage seemed to be stuck.
"Damn it." She cried out loudly, she was all alone having no clue where the boss was.
This wasn't her first time dealing alone, but she gets scared sometimes in case the client carries a knife on them of some sort, or tries to pull a scam on her.
Later.

A mysterious shadow came into the warehouse. Based on the shadow's body structure Blaze knew it was a client. She simply laid back behind the chair with the desk in front of her. The shadow approached her and sat down.
Blaze gave the customer the signature Mayhem look, which meant that they both had to trade goods at the same time.

She started to count.
"3..2..1.." The dough and the goods switched across the table. She counted the money quickly as her client checked out the item in return.
"It's a pleasure doing business with you." The client smirked suspiciously.
"Yeah you too." Blaze said waving her hand as a sign for him to leave.
She calmly stalked the money in her pocket, got up and left her desk.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jack The Ripper Character Portrait: Kurou Ito
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Image

Kurou's hand lingered, his fingertips imbued with the kitten's gradual fading heat. Perceiving the decline of its warmth, Kurou felt as though he was the one stealing it. As if he was absorbing the heat from right out of the body's core. Returning his gun to its accustomed holster, Kurou got to his feet once again. He spun around more rapidly then previously intended, alert spurring his speed. Someone was already behind him, concealment only hindered by their own manic laughter. He met them with a cold look, lips thinly parted in surprise. How was it possible for them to have gotten so close, undetected? His eyes ran over male, uninhibited in their evaluation. He was hunched over clutching at his stomach as though it pained him, his voice pitching octaves, enriching his laugh with the keen notes of insanity. The person before him seemed to embody no presence at all, now only the choked sounds of snuffed laughter was all he emitted.

"How pointless...Merely a feline. What a coward, killing a creature that could only fight back with a slight scratch. Murdered with a bullet. Bullets are quick, powerful, dangerous...but incredibly unfair. I view guns as cheating. It takes no skill to tug at a trigger to take a life. How boring and simple. You are exactly like a gun aren't you Kurou Ito?!" The stranger spoke. At some point a sadistic smile had worked his lips in a curve.

Kurou understood in his head that the man meant ill of him but his chest did not, it neither swelled with resentment or chagrin. He was not fighting the cat, he simply did not feel bothered to befriend the animal to be granted allowance of touch. All Kurou did was stop the kitten’s movement, cease the beating of its heart. It was still the same kitten as before, was it not?

Kurou’s thoughts were dubious. No one called him by his given name, not unless they knew him personally, yet no recollection of memory corresponded with the man reflected in his eyes. Like a child, he seeked the affirmation of touch, but would he be scratched again? Reaching out a slow but assertive hand, he prodded the other’s shoulder with two fingers, coming in contact with a firm mass. Illusion he was not.
“Who are you?” he inquired, with nothing more then a flat-line voice.

View All »Arcs

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Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.

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Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.

Add Quest » Quests

You can create Quests with various rewards, encouraging your players to engage with specific plot lines.

Add Setting » 1 Settings for your players to play in

Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.

Navigation

While not required, locations can be organized onto a map. More information soon!

Ikebukuro

Ikebukuro by LunaSpirit

Ikebukuro is a place that has always been captured by gang violence, so much so that it is viewed as a normal part of day to day life here. Each gang having its own reputation and aims, making the city a kind of cinema for the civilians.

Add Group » 0 Factions to align with

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Collectibles

By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.


Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name (case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.

Mobs

Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!

Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!

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Add and remove other people from your Universe.

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By marking a character as abandoned, you can offer them to your players as pre-made character sheets.

Character Portrait: Amon
8 sightings Amon played by Ion
"Death plays no favorites, knows no loyalty."
Character Portrait: Nasami Sakura
1 sightings Nasami Sakura played by orchestraofwolves
Be careful, with one smile I can make you wanna die.

The Forge

Use your INK to craft new artifacts in Legends Blade. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.

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The Market

Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.

Market Data

Market conditions are unknown. Use caution when trading.

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View All » Add Character » 11 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Jack The Ripper
Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone
Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
Character Portrait: Naomi "Nemo" Meing
Character Portrait: Kisa Alessandra

Newest

Character Portrait: Kisa Alessandra
Kisa Alessandra

"Don't trust me if you value your life..."

Character Portrait: Naomi "Nemo" Meing
Naomi "Nemo" Meing

"I doubt you know what hell is like, but I do."

Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
Rena Miyabi

"Save your drama for the stage..."

Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone
Jeremiah David Malatone

Please stop wasting time...

Character Portrait: Jack The Ripper
Jack The Ripper

"I'm just giving you everything you deserve..."

Trending

Character Portrait: Naomi "Nemo" Meing
Naomi "Nemo" Meing

"I doubt you know what hell is like, but I do."

Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone
Jeremiah David Malatone

Please stop wasting time...

Character Portrait: Jack The Ripper
Jack The Ripper

"I'm just giving you everything you deserve..."

Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
Rena Miyabi

"Save your drama for the stage..."

Character Portrait: Kisa Alessandra
Kisa Alessandra

"Don't trust me if you value your life..."

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Rena Miyabi
Rena Miyabi

"Save your drama for the stage..."

Character Portrait: Naomi "Nemo" Meing
Naomi "Nemo" Meing

"I doubt you know what hell is like, but I do."

Character Portrait: Jack The Ripper
Jack The Ripper

"I'm just giving you everything you deserve..."

Character Portrait: Jeremiah David Malatone
Jeremiah David Malatone

Please stop wasting time...

Character Portrait: Kisa Alessandra
Kisa Alessandra

"Don't trust me if you value your life..."


View All » Places

Ikebukuro

Ikebukuro by LunaSpirit

Ikebukuro is a place that has always been captured by gang violence, so much so that it is viewed as a normal part of day to day life here. Each gang having its own reputation and aims, making the city a kind of cinema for the civilians.

Ikebukuro

Ikebukuro is a place that has always been captured by gang violence, so much so that it is viewed as a normal part of day to day life here. Each gang having its own reputation and aims, making the city a kind of cinema for the civilians.

Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Legends Blade: Out of Character

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