Announcements: Initiative: Promoting Forum Roleplay » Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newbies » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Platonic numbers » No complaints (a little bit of rappin) » Any multi-player roleplay videogamers here? » Needing a woman's perspective on a concept » Gluts and Gaps » Universal Basic Income » Impending Pursuit Q&A » Eudaimonia » Loot! » Natural Kinds » I have a funny idea » Life in the 21st century. » Song of the Runes » Plato’s Beard » Clues » Nihilism » Strange Tales From Hadean » Art Gulag [ Come get this Commish! ] » Visibility of Private Universes & Profile Customisation » Presuppositionalism »

Players Wanted: Roleplay Return for 1 x 1 » Players wanted for a science fiction adventure. » Players needed for Fantasy Romance reboot » One(1) male & Two(2) Female Roles OPEN <3 » Talmora: Kingdom of magic » Looking For A New Partner » Hellboy characters » 18+ Writing Partner [Fantasy, Romance, Etc.] » 18+, Multi-Para to Novella Writers please! » Looking for roleplayers » Fun tale full of angels, demons, and humans » Looking for roleplayers » A Fairytale World in Need of Heroes & Villains! » Are You a Crime Addict? » Wuxia RP » Looking for roleplayers » New Realistic Roleplay - Small World Life ٩( ´・ш・)و » Mentors Wanted » MV Recruiting Drive: sci-fi players wanted! » Veilbrand: The Revolution »

0
followers
follow

Cleo Eriaji

The sole survivor of a proud race.

0 · 623 views · located in The Penance Tavern

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nemo

Description

The Last Tsufuru-jin

Image



Cleo Eriaji (CLAY-oh)
Height: 5' 9"
Weight: 145 lbs / 1/2 Ton with Armor


Planet Plant. Better known as Planet Vegeta, home of the "Saiyans", a blood-thirsty alien race. Born to survive, bred to kill, the Saiyans launched a rutheless campaign across the universe, conquoring planets, wiping out all intelligent life in them and then auctioning them off to buyers. But the Saiyans were not always so powerful. At one point, they even shared their homeworld with another race: the Tsufuru-jin (also called "Tuffles").

The Tuffles were a peaceful, care-free race. For what they lacked in physical power and inability to use energy, ki or magic attacks; they made up for in technological advances unrivaled throughout the galaxy. They were a passionate society of philosophers and thinkers, favoring the arts and sciences. They constantly strove towards the betterment of their species as opposed to conquest or military training.

Although the Tuffles welcomed the Saiyans with open arms, hoping to continue co-existing with them on their home planet, it could never be so. The Saiyans were quick to ignite a long and bloody war that would come to be known as the “Tuffle-Saiyan War.” The technologic advancements the Tuffles possessed quickly allowed them to gain the upper hand in the bloody conflict. Indeed, they very well almost won the war.

Almost.

On the verge victory, the Tuffles found themselves confronted with an unfortunate happening beyond their control. The full moon, an occurrence on Planet Plant happening only once every eight years, transforming the entire remaining Saiyan population into their mightiest form: the Great Ape. The Saiyan army obliterated the Tuffle population in one night. The war was lost. Planet Plant belonged to the Saiyans.

As the Saiyan monsters descended upon the Tuffle capital, Doctor Eriaji, his wife and their newly born son desperately boarded a spacecraft, attempting to flee the planet with their lives. Unfortunately, the ship was damaged in the fight before it could achieve takeoff. Quickly setting his baby boy into the craft's only functioning escape pod (meant for documents and small-objects, not large enough for an adult), along with the holographic schematics of his life’s work, Dr Eriaji blasted his child into deep space, saving him from apocalypse.

The child’s name was Cleo.


A Wanderer



Landing on a nearby planet, Cleo was found and raised for the first five years of his life by Vrackians, a peaceful race of farmers and gatherers. Blessed with his natural Tuffle intelligence, Cleo learned and comprehended information at a supernatural speed. Reviewing the schematics given to him by his father (as well as videos recorded by his mother after his birth during a more peaceful time), Cleo quickly realized that he was not a native to his current planet. Rebuilding and modifying his escape-pod to a more suitable craft, Cleo bid farewell to the Vrackians and began his journey home, unaware that his planet was already lost and his parents already dead. He was five years old.

For the next six years, Cleo wandered the galaxy, learning more and more everyday as he went. Although most of the planets he encountered contained peaceful inhabitants, he quickly discovered the necessity to defend himself against those few with more hostile residents. Basing the design off one of his father’s schematics, Cleo began building body-armor. It wasn’t difficult, as each planet visited presented new resources, new tools and new adjustments to his original plan. With his superhuman intellect, Cleo easily completed the first model of what would eventually become the Arkangel Armor.

When Cleo at last arrived on Planet Plant, he quickly discovered the truth. The Tuffles had lost the war with the Saiyans. His family, his heritage, his very race…all wiped from existence. In his rage, Cleo attacked a small Saiyan establishment, killing many of the aliens before sustaining major injuries and being driven off. Flying from the world as quickly as he could, he crash-landed on Planet Rihatsan, where he encountered the Rihatsu. An ancient race of wise-men, Cleo found peace among the aliens for another eight years, adopting the Rihatsu code of ethics. Partially fueled by his grief for his fallen comrades, Cleo developed a deep respect for sentient life under the Rihatsu’s teachings. Respect for sentient life…except for the Saiyans, of course.

Apart from centering himself emotionally, Cleo dedicated himself to his previous work of advancing the technology he had. While he remained rooted in Rihatsan, he continuously left for deeper parts of the galaxy, discovering new materials to build better armor and weapons. Perhaps his greatest discover was of the strange substance “muteki”, a metallic liquid that seemed capable of absorbing massive amounts of energy. After molecularly freezing the compound, Cleo quickly incorporated it into his armor. He continuously went to hostile planets, testing his suit over and over again, training himself in the fires of lethal combat. Learning from each of his countless battles, the Tuffle modified his armor daily, incorporating every scrap of knowledge learned both on and off the battlefield. Once, a large platoon of Saiyan warriors landed on Rihatsan, planning to eridacate the Rihatsu and auction the planet like they did with so many before. Meeting them head-on, the young Tuffle easily emerged victorious, slaughtering his most hated foe in dark ecstacy.

"The Rihatsu were careful to teach me the moral fulfillments of life. Nature, knowledge, justice and virtue...all became beautiful to me. But in their ethical lectures, they neglected the darker satisfactions of sentient fulfillment. Killing the Saiyans awakened an ancient lust that could not be extinguished once realized. I am woefully convinced of no greater pleasure then destroying the embodiment of one’s hatred and detestation."


After years of work, Cleo finally succeeded in completing his Arkangel III Full-Body Armor, its power beyond even what Cleo had anticipated. At the age of eighteen, Cleo at last said his goodbyes to the Rihatsus, deciding that he was old enough to find his own way. Before he began searching for a path, however; he set out to test the full power of his Arkangel III and discover the limits of its fathomless command. Journeying into deep space, the last Tsufuru-Jin once again began training. He would hunt dying stars throughout the galaxy and battle the supernova that followed its death. He would pitt his flight power against the gravitional pull of a black hole, racing against the speed of light itself. He would find entire solar systems devoid of life, ending each barren planet with a flick of his wrist. Cleo took his power to new and unexplored limits.

After training himself, the Tuffle at last left in search of a new life, a new beginning…and perhaps a new reason to exist. Quietly traveling through space, he found himself on the Planet Terra. Finding a home on the planet, Cleo quickly caught the attention of the TNG, with whom he began working closely to revolutionize Terran defenses.


Arkangel III

Image


Cleo’s greatest achievement; the Arkangel III Full-Body Armor is constructed from the strongest materials throughout the galaxy. Its strength, power and durability endows its wearer with the formidability of gods.

The Arkangel armor utilizes a variety of alien substances, including:

Impervium: a dislocated metal alloyed from the alien metals pullum and silicis, found on the planet Fundam, located in the Carina-Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way galaxy. Pullum and silicis are smelted together to alloy impervium, but only through extreme heat. Impervium has a solidus point of 1.3 million degrees Fahrenheit, and a liquidis point of 1.5 million degrees Fahrenheit.

Exceptionally tough, hard and durable, impervium is the metal alloy used in the Arkangel. The entire Plate of the armor is almost completely comprised of impervium. Because of its superior strength and high-melting point, the alloy is practically impervious to lead, plasma, and most other piercing, heat or smashing attacks. Impervium is also extremely magnetic (30,000 gauss), and is in fact held together in the Arkangel design via a series of densely energized internal magnetic fields.

Muteki: a metallic liquid found on the planet Peniculus in the Crux-Scutum Arm of the Milky Way galaxy, Muteki has been christened “Tek” by TETRS troopers. Muteki liquid has the ability to absorb massive amounts of energy, a trait which proved extremely useful in furthering the defensive capabilities of the Arkangel. The substance was molecularly frozen and incorporated into the armor. A thick layer is plastered over the Plate, while a Muteki “gel” substance flows freely throughout the Pillar. Two densely concentrated “gems” of Muteki are also embedded in the palms of the Arkangel.

The ARKNGL III is composed of four layers of armor: the Plate, Pillar, Foam and Skin.

Plate: The Plate is the outer section of the armor, and the only layer that is completely exposed to the environment. The Plate is constructed entirely out of high carbon impervium, a dislocated metal alloyed from alien elements. Only the hellish core of a Neutron Star (1.5 Million ºF) can generate the heat required to forge impervium.

Pillar: The Pillar is an elastic shell just below the Plate. It serves a myriad of important purposes essential to the functionality of the ARKNGL. Its primary function is structural support. The Pillar keeps the Arkangel closely knitted together through a series of densely energized magnetic fields. The Pillar is also responsible for movement throughout the system. A neurological pathway at the base of Cleo's neck connects to his central nervous system. The pathway collects chemical signals released by the brain and transmits them into kinetic action. Whatever Cleo tells the suit to do in his mind, it does. The Pillar seals the remaining two layers of armor, air-locking Cleo from a potentially hostile environment. Muteki Gel flows freely throughout the Pillar, offering significant protection and further absorption of energy concentrates.

Foam: The Foam is a thick layer of protective foam separating the Pillar from the Skin. Engineered to absorb up to 10 million newtons of force, the Foam is capable of protecting Cleo's structure from even the most powerful exertion of force or shock wave of energy.

Skin: The Skin is the final layer of the Arkangel Armor. Thin and tight, it clings closely to Cleo's body like a jumpsuit. The Skin is responsible for accommodating all of Cleo's biological needs, as well as maintaining reasonable living conditions throughout Arkangel in general. An extensive temperature regulator keeps the entire suit at a safe temperature in even the most extreme environments, while a Thermal Disruptor nullifies his heat signature. A particle filter prevents any poisons or toxins from entering into Cleo's system, including radiation and electromagnetic waves. The Skin's bioscan technology sterilizes and seals any prevalent injuries upon detection (although series medical attention is not something Arkangel is able to give). Jutting from the Skin along the shoulders, back, and quadriceps are a series of energy generators, which supply a constant shield of densely protective energy around the Plate, in addition to the Muteki Gel coat.

Directly in the center of the ArkangelIII is the Fusion Reactor. Arguably the most important piece of the armor, the Fusion Reactor supplies seemingly limitless power to the ARKNGL III Armor.

The Arkangel III Armor utilizes a variety of skills and offensive energies.

Super-Kinetics – The suit allows for impossibly dexterous range of motion, speed, strength and flight.

Energy Manipulation – Draws upon the suit’s massive stores of energy, centering it into a single focus point to be used, usually in a beam of high-intensity light.

Element Manipulation – Draws upon natural gases, molecular compounds and binding energies to manipulate and accelerate charged particles (ions, positrons, electrons, etc.)

Sound Manipulation – The suit can create sonic frequencies of all kinds. Whether it be to change Cleo’s voice or to release a devastating shock wave of sound, the uses vary

Magnetic Manipulation – The suit can create or nullify magnetic attraction, pulling attractive particles out of the very air to be used as needed, without disrupting the magnetic field used by the Pillar to keep the suit together.

Spirit Manipulation – The most lethal energy the suit is capable of harnessing. Cleo draws upon the essence of life itself, forming the powerful energies into tangible substance.

Muteki Gems – Although the entire Arkangel III Armor is coated by the layer in this stuff, two “gems” of densely concentrated Muteki are embedded in the palms of the armor. If aimed and timed correctly, Cleo can absorb incoming energized attacks, store them and then release them in the same manner in which they were received. He cannot however, alter the energy once it’s been absorbed. It can only be stored and released

The ANDEE armor (used by TETRS) was inspired by Cleo's Arkangel. The Arkangel has all of the ANDEE's functions and protections.

Image

So begins...

Cleo Eriaji's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"The purpose of the experiment is not for you to win," Cleo took another few steps forward, "on the contrary, I fully expect each and every patron in this bar to lose to me. So far as my scouters can tell, there is no one here who matches my power."

"The question then, fighter, is not how you will win, but how you will fight. So. Come." The Tuffle raised one of his hands. "...fight."

That said, the Tuffle would release a powerful shock wave of energized sound at Tesseract. The attack was devastating, ripping up floorboards and shattering furniture as it funnelled towards the Russian at three hundred and forty miles per hour. If the assassin took no measures to defend himself, the blast would easily knock him off his fight, sending him splattering into the far wall.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji watched his attack succeed with calculating coldness, nodding towards Tesseract as he fell. "Three down, then." He was about to turn, but paused... offering the Russain assassin a small salute. "Ti molodyets." He muttered.

"I have no qualms with fighting multiple opponents at once," Cleo nodded to Nargiz as she approached, "on the contrary, I encourage it. Whatever allows you all to preform most effectively against me. If you like, call in your friends and-"

The Tuffle's elaboration was cut short as Cryoface leapt upon him, pinning his arms to his armored torso. Whoever this new fighter was, he had a great deal of strength about him. It wasn't easy to prevent any part of Cleo's body from moving when he was garbed in the Arkangel.

At a mental command, one of the thrusters built into Cleo's back whirred to life, sending a concetrated blast of Newtonian force burrowing into Cryoface's chest. The attack, strong enough to lift a semi-truck off the road, would likely send the beast flying into the nearest wall, or at least off of Cleo all-together.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"Sir, are you ever going to explain why you are doing what you are doing?"

Cleo turned stoically towards the girl. "Not until every one of you lies at my feet." Lifting his finger, the Tuffle released a single beam of intensified polarized light at the sand-bender. If connected, the impact would likely send the woman sprawling to the floor, perhaps even severely burning several areas of her body.

For a moment, the Tuffle allowed himself to step back, gazing at the carnage he'd created so far. The Drachini, hardly more then a boy, was whimpering in a broken heap in the far corner. The robot boy he trashed earlier was hardly able to move on his own. The Russian was bleeding out into the floor, literally popping his bones back into place. If the Tuffle's assault on Nargiz worked, she would find herself in a great deal of agony. In short, Cleo had turned Gambit's into a living hell-hole in a matter of minutes.

The faint beginnings of empathy welled briefly in his pallid irises. He reminded himself why this needed to be done.

Turning from the spectacle, Cleo looked towards the remaining patrons. "Whos is next?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji perked an approving brow at Nargiz' sudden display of power. It was the most emotion he'd shown all night. At a mental command, his helmet retracted back over his face, just in time to stop the flecks of sand from hitting his flesh.

"Curious..." the Tuffle remarked as he analyzed Nargiz' sand, "it seems this granular material has anesthetic and hallucinagenic properties..." The Tuffle had to draw himself away from his studies, reminding himself that he was in a fight. Holding out his hand, Cleo unleashed a torrent of fire against the mass of sand, attempting to scorch the minerals in a blast of seething flames.

"Are you stepping forward to fight me?" Cleo turned to Dinaeus, hopefully free of Nargiz if only for a few moments, "please energize to your maximum level of combat proficiency before facing me." The Tuffle took no notice of the Russian as he left. He had no further use of him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji seeing as how Nargiz was more-or-less out of the fight, Cleo turned toward Cryoface. "There is a method to my madness. I am not a senseless killer. You must believe me that I do this for the good of all Terra."

Turning swiftly to Dinaeus, Cleo didn't need to hear anymore. "Very well, then." The Tuffle sprung.

Unlike his previous attacks, Cleo went in for the melee. At a mental command, the thrusters in the Tsufurujin's armor powered to life, allowing him to cover the distance between himself and Dinaeus in a mere fraction of a second. The Tuffle came in hot, aiming to land a solid blow directly into the frenchman's gut, powerful enough to send him doubling-over in intestinal agony.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
The moment Apollo entered, Cleo would turn from where he stood fighting Dinaeus, unleashing a massive wave of scorching plasma at the demigod. The plasma would severely injure the young boy if he did not defend himself.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji looked curiously up into the air, detecting the faint traces of sand floating about the atmosphere. "Revert to suit oxygen supply. Suspend external breathing regulator..." Cleo wasn't about to take any chances. Unfortunately, he had given the order too late. A small cluster of sand escaped into the Tuffle's system before he blocked the rest out.

Cleo called back to Liff and Olivia. "I am not trying to kill anyone. I am here to analyze the combat profenciency of Gambit's patrons. It is absolutely critical that I spar with every person in this bar to examine their fighting capabilities."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
It was at that moment that the floor to Gambit's collapsed under Cleo's feet.

Were anyone to examine the wreckage, they wound find nothing but broken wood and ashen debris.

Cleo was gone.

The setting changes from Gambit's Bar to Terra

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji had arrived at 'The Prince and Bard' precisely thirty minutes before the intended hour. He sat alone at his table, dressed in a three-piece suit, awaiting the company of his "date" for the evening. A multitude of laughing parties clinked glasses and provided a white-noise ambiance about the establishment, mingling well the low, smooth-jazz soundtrack resonating about the restaurant. Every table seemed full, and black-tied waiters coursed gracefully about the floor, taking orders and ferrying bottles of wine to their intended patrons. The Prince and Bard had been receiving good business lately. The managers had insisted it had absolutely nothing to do with their top three competitors being destroyed one of the many Occupation glassings.

Although his suit was pressed and well-fitted, there was something undeniably off about the way Cleo wore it. He was constantly adjusting it. Not ten seconds could pass without the Tuffle pulling at his sleeves, cuff links or tie. His long brown hair was curtained around his pale face, his lips thinned and his brow slightly furrowed as he struggled with his outfit. Clearly he didn't wear suits very often.

The moment Claire walked in, he would, of course, cease all fiddling.

The setting changes from Terra to Wing City

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Upon addressing herself to a hostess, Claire would immediately be taken through to the main dining hall. The sounds of aristocratic pomp subtly resonated all about her; the shallow merriment of Terran nobles who seemed quite intent on pretending that their planet wasn't going to shit, if only for one night. Many of the patrons closer to Claire made poorly-concealed passes over her figure. She looked stunning, of course, and anyone else who saw her immediately knew it.

But if Cleo was at all transfixed by her appearance, his body language did not give it away. The Tsufurujin rose as Claire entered the dining hall, stepping forward as she approached the table and offering her his hand. His palms were hard and cold. It was like shaking hands with a marble statue.

"Miss Angelique," Cleo nodded. He did not smile. "Thank you for meeting me here tonight. I apologize again for calling on such short notice. I hope I have not inconvenienced you in any way." He gestured to a fine-velvet chair. "May I help you into your seat?" If his offer was accepted, the Tuffle would do just that. His every action seemed to be fluid and articulate, never taking two steps where one worked fine.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"If you insist," Cleo nodded, assuming his seat opposite Claire. He drew a deep breath, looking down at his silverware in mute contemplation.

"...you must... forgive me if all of this appears... peculiar..." he chose his words carefully, his gaze fixated on a wrinkle in the tablecloth, "I was under the impression that most civilized humans maintained certain societal formalities that ought to be observed when conducting a business transaction." He looked up at her, his grey irises cold and unyielding.

"To be fair with you, as I feel I should, this is not entirely a business transaction."

Before Cleo could elaborate, however, they were interrupted. A mustachioed waiter in black-and-white formal approached them. A white napkin was thrown over his forearm, and he spoke with an impeccable accent that could only be described as 'foreign'. "Wood ze'gentleman or ze'lady keeair for zum'teen to dreenk zis'evening?" He stood with such an assiduously straight posture that he almost looked like a soldier at attention.

"Drink." Cleo repeated the word as if it were a piece of alien vocabulary. "Drink. Yes." He blinked twice, looking up at the waiter with determined zeal, as if he'd just remembered something tremendously important.

"...do you have wine?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"Uv'cuers, madame," the waiter bowed, turning quickly to Cleo. He seemed slightly aggravated at the Tuffle's question, "vee... vee do halv vine, sir." He cleared his throat. "Zee'Pince an'Bawd pwowdlee hoasts a fine coh-leh-ktshun of vihntahj brawnds, eencludeen, Chateau Lafleur-"

"Yes. That one."

The waiter blinked. "Aye... Aye beg yor pahrdone..."

"The first one. Whichever the first one was. I would like to purchase a glass of that wine. Thank you."

Obviously startled, the waiter 'hmphed' audibly before leaving.

The Tuffle seemed to lose a bit of his composure as the waiter left, his shoulders slumping forward slightly. He brushed a loose strand of hair past his ear. He almost seemed to be fighting a headache.

"As I was saying, Miss Angelique," Cleo gathered himself, looking back up at Claire, "this is not entirely a business transaction. Perhaps I am merely a stickler for vocabulary, but I feel I would be lying to you if I said that was all it was." The Tuffle drew himself upright once more.

"A business transaction, you see..." he elaborated slowly, "...implies some degree of economic fluctuation between parties, usually beneficial. It implies that records will be kept. That money will be exchanged. Services will be rendered and hands will be shaken." He shook his head sternly. "That is not what this is." The Tuffle seemed to gulp. "I... I have considered forty-two different ways to ask you this, Miss Angelique." His eyes darted to her own fiercely. "Forty-two. Consider that. Consider the time and effort I put into developing each one." He leaned forward quite suddenly. "Now consider my frustration when I dismissed each of them in turn. Consider my anguish, my despair, when I realized that none of them would come even remotely close to making my proposition sound appealing to you." He raised an objecting finger. (...)

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
(...)
"They would have had different effect, no doubt. Some may have flattered you. Most would have insulted you. But all of them would come back to a single, definite truth. A truth so blunt and apparent that I cannot be bothered to hide it from you even if I desired to."

The Tuffle leaned forward.

"The truth is simple. You would be insane to accept this deal."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo's face briefly contorted into a vague anger. His tone assumed a slightly steely edge. "It only frustrates me to devote time and effort to a thing and achieve little. I am sure you understand."

The Tuffle sighed. "But it is of little importance. My proposition? Plain and simple? Very well." He grunted, his irritation just barely visible in his grim features. He looked up at Claire, his eyes professing to the undiluted honest of his request.

"I want you to help me kill Darian McGregor."

And that was it. No follow-up. No reasoning. No explanation as to why she should help them or what she would get out of it. Cleo merely reclined in his seat and glared at the woman... as if he were challenging her to give him an answer.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji merely sat back in his seat, taking Claire's verbal onslaught with a passive ease. He even nodded at certain parts of Claire's statement. The rest of the restaurant had dimmed to an awkward silence.

"Yes. Yes you are absolutely right, Claire," the Tuffle rose slowly, "facing Darian is insane. It is absolutely insane. He has the power of the gods at his command and near limitless knowledge at his disposal. He is ruthless and cunning and he has a horde of powerful followers to protect him." The Tuffle shook his head adamantly. "I do not even have the 'right people', Claire. I do not have an army. I do not have gods to fight against him." He held up a score of fingers. "I have two other recruits, Claire. Two." His jaw grit in a building fury. "We will likely NOT survive as we are. Darian will probably kill us. Even if you HAD said yes, he probably would have killed us." The Tuffle stalked forward suddenly, his hands blurring towards his collar. Angrily, he literally ripped the tie out of his shirt, slightly relieved to be rid of the wretched ornament. (...)

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
(...)
"But let me try and put this into perspective for you, Miss Angelique..." Cleo's teeth were grit, "...Darian has already prolonged the life of the Empire far past what it should have been. He has put the Taiyou out of the war in a single stroke. He has captured some of our best operatives. He has manipulated the Aschen AND the Ori into doing his bidding, and now he is watching the Empire die with a smile on his face. Literally BILLIONS of people have already died because of his malice. Billions more will die in the Union offensive." Cleo thrust a jagged finger towards Claire. "It is HIS fault, Claire. Almost his alone. Do you think you are SAFE from Darian, living as you are? Do you think he will stay out of your life forever simply because you're hiding from him? You are a fool and a liar!"

Cleo literally screamed the last line, his emotions pouring out of him in a flood. Anyone who'd spent any amount of time near the Tuffle would know him as grey and melancholy. All at once, he seemed to be a vibrant romantic. Clearly something was infuriating the Tuffle.

Slowly, Cleo lifted his hands back to his face, smoothing back the hair that had fallen across his eyes.

"Yes, Miss Angelique," he said in a much calmer tone, "I am asking you to die. I am asking you to die FIGHTING the monster who has tormented you all your life rather then die running from him."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo, in his rage, thankfully had not heard Darian's remark. His waiter, standing nearby, believed the man had been speaking to him.

"Yes sir. The Prince and Bard is the finest dining establishment in East Wing City." He looked towards Claire and Cleo. "I apologize for the interruption... marital problems, no doubt."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo Eriaji sighed, offering the girl a weary parting-call. "Run away then, Miss Angelique. The nightmare will come for us all eventually."

And then, without so much as a glance over in Darian's direction, the Tuffle swiped a knife off of the nearby table and flung it towards Darian's chest with impossible accuracy. Cleo's speed was inhuman, his expression returned to its usual dull melancholy.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"If I am ever in a state of non-aggression at your side, Darian, it will be because I am dead," the Tuffle explained calmly. He picked up a silver spoon.

"You cannot ordain my purpose, McGregor," the Tuffle quipped passively, "you cannot even ordain your own purpose. The sick, inhuman malevolence that corrupted your son resonates inside of you now like a cancer. You are weak. Undisciplined. Arrogant. The very breath you take is an insult to my existence."

Holding the spoon up for Darian to see, Cleo set the utensil calmly back down on the table. "Clearly you are immune to projectile cutlery. Shall we test other avenues of aggression?"

The patrons of the Prince and Bard, meanwhile, were beginning to clear out.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"I comprehend that you are a sick, twisted shell of a man who stands on the shoulders of gods and thinks himself tall," Cleo stepped forward, throwing off his jacket and tossing a nearby table off to the side.

"No matter what abominable ideals of power you have attained in your despicable descent into destruction, you are, to me, the epitome of all the evil that this war has brought. You must be destroyed." Cleo's fists clenched at his side.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
For a brief second, the Tuffle stared down Darian unflinchingly, his hands behind his back, his brows drawn together seriously...

And then Cleo was on his knees; heart pounding, blood racing. He felt the pull of some dark, foreign grip pressing at his insides... squeezing at his heard like a ripe tomato and threatening it to burst. For a moment, Cleo was speechless, gaping at Darian in an expression of unkempt hatred. He was literally powerless. There was nothing he could do.

And then something fell through the roof.

Whatever it was, it seemed to hit Cleo dead-on, pummeling him into the floorboards. Wood, metal and stone collapsed into the restaurant and a typhoon of noise and debris immediately consumed The Prince and Bard. After the noise and chaos there was only silence. Cleo was nowhere to be seen.

Darian, who could undoubtedly feel Cleo's life force, however, would know that the Tuffle was very much alive. His heartbeat, wherever it was, was slowly returning to normal despite Darian's Ori influence. It seemed the Tsufurujin was somehow holding his own against Darian's powers... and all that had happened to him was that he'd been struck by some crater from above.

A hand madly ripped out of the floorboards. It was armored.

And then Cleo sprang forth from the ground in full Arkangel, chunks of wood and metal spewing to the side as he hovered in all his might. Vibrating around the Tuffle's figure was a low golden aura. Were Darian to examine the energy, he would find it to be composed of Ascended energies. Cleo was literally surrounded by spirit incarnate as substance... almost completely identical to the same Ascended energy used by the Ori.

"Hell hath it's heroes," the Tuffle spoke through his helmet, "but even Heaven must have it's angels." That said, Cleo would bring his hands together, unleashing a powerful reflector blast aimed directly at Darian's chest. Though strong enough to kill a normal man, the blast was mostly aimed to send Daria

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
"As I shall welcome it in turn," Cleo nodded, looking about himself and his new environment. Although he didn't betray it in his voice, Cleo was indeed surprised at Darian's display of power. This man seemed capable of performing feats only God himself should be capable of doing.

Hovering at full height, Cleo's armored fists clenched tightly. Ascended energies continued to radiate off of his body... not from any particular storehouse or tank built into Cleo's armor, but from within the Tuffle's being directly. It was as if he were in some ascended state himself. Near ascended.

"We will do battle here, Darian," Cleo said plainly, quickly running scans to make sure that this world was real and not merely an illusion. The Tuffle was going to go all-out. He needed to ensure he wasn't going to hurt anyone. "I offer you one last chance. Submit. Though vile, twisted and corrupt, you are still a human being. You are worthy of redemption and salvation."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Cleo suddenly found himself trapped in a reality that he didn't even recognize. Desperately, the Tuffle reached out with his mind, attempting to ground himself in some scientific principle or underlining physical truth. He was afforded no such luxury. As Darian's fist lashed out against his armor, the impervium plates in his suit would vibrate violently, spreading across his entire body until the whole thing was shuddering. Though in pain from the attack, Cleo observed his armor curiously. The vibrations did not dissipitate with time, but rather, formed some sort of movement pattern up and down his suit. Still, his armor held together... drawn in by the last vestiges of ascended energy resonating in Cleo. Although Darian had snuffed out the shielding excess that Cleo had broadcasted over his frame, there remained a small remnant of energy blazing in the Tuffle's soul like a fire. His very life force.

Grunting, the Tuffle turned back towards Darian, amplifying a powerful psionic beam of pure telepathic energy and directing the attack towards Darian's mind. A mental attack needed no physical law to exist.

"Technology is only... half... the equation..." Cleo grunted, pain riddling up his body wherever the vibrations traveled, "The hand that wields the weapon is just as important... just as powerful... as the weapon itself."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
All at once, both Darian and Cleo's armor was gone. He was left alone, naked and floating in the vastness of space, his body still riddled with horrible pain, his wide eyes numbly watching the beginnings of a supernova that would undoubtedly consume him. Only a small atmosphere of air and warmth left behind from his suit kept the Tuffle from dying right then and there from vacuum exposure. Cleo had nothing. No armor. No technology. No weapons. No hope.

Fear consumed him. Fear and hatred. Darian had beaten him on a whim. For all his knowledge... for all the thousands of years he'd trained and fought and learned... it was still nothing. His understanding was useless. His power was nothing. He'd failed utterly and completely. Billions of people would die because of his weakness... and now he would die too. Alone without a friend. Helpless.

Tears began to roll down Cleo's cheeks, a depthless sorrow overcoming him as the end of his life neared. He didn't want to die. Not now. Not yet. Not after all he'd done and tried to do. There still so much more purpose! So much left to know and love and achieve! It couldn't end like this, could it? Curling up into a ball, Cleo cried his heart out into his hands, completely deprived of everything he cared about.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cleo Eriaji
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nemo
Except for his light.

All at once it hit him. Yes, the light. The same embers of ascended energy that had been stirring in Cleo's soul from the beginning. Throughout the entire fight, that light had no waned once. Not even slightly. It moved inside of the Tuffle like a whisper, and now, in his deepest hour of need, resonated throughout his bare body like a song; a building anthem of incomprehensible enlightenment. Cleo saw his death. He saw the massive waves of nova energy washing over him in a flood of celestial wonder... bearing him on the waves of a solar typhoon before his body was literally obliterated by the raw power of nature. He saw the unimaginable beauty of the supernova consume him... and the look of complete and utter contentment on his face in his last moments. Life. Beauty. Death. Purpose. These ideals whirled around Cleo's mind only for a moment, stirring inside his brain as if swept up by a passing wind before settling down and aligning themselves into a perfect order; like pieces to a puzzle who have found their way. The Tuffle smiled. In all his years of life, Cleo had never felt so unbelievably whole as he did now in his death. New tears flowed down his jaw, not of sorrow, but of joy. Death. What was death? Now he knew. Now he knew the beauty of his purpose. Of his life.

In his final moments, Cleo understood.

The supernova washed over him. The star was gone.

So was Cleo.