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Torin Illium

A young fighter, eager for training. He seeks out the greatest warriors in the Multiverse to learn from.

0 · 925 views · located in The Arena

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

Groups

Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

Age: 17 Image
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 145 lbs
Build: Muscular Ectomorphic: Athletic/toned

Torin has a sturdy, beaten face; adorned with a fresh collection of cuts and scars every week. He has long, black hair flowing down to fiery, piercing eyes. He walks in a slow, steady manner, faithfully observant to his environment and surroundings.

Torin likes to wear loose, casual clothing at all times. He prefers dark colors. He most commonly wears a black jacket with the hood cast over his eyes, running shoes, and sturdy cargo pants or jeans. He carries a variety of tools and weapons clipped into his belt and in his pockets.

Torin is determined, brave and committed. Driven by revenge, there is no limit to how hard he'll try...or how far he'll go to achieve power. Inquisitive and curious of everything that could make him stronger, he is eager to learn everything he can from anyone who is willing to teach him. When not training, he's a quiet and reserved boy; not one to start a conversation with a stranger.

Torin is a moral character, understanding right from wrong. While his ambitious craving for training superceedes his virtues, he nonetheless cares for other people and will help those in need when he can. He particularly dislikes powerful figures picking on or abusing weaker individuals. A life of dedicated training has hardened the boy, both physically and emotionally.

Torin was ten years old when he witnessed the death of his parents at the hands of powerful warriors. Determined to avenge them, he set out into the streets of Wing City, looking to train from whoever he may. Aside from his burning vengeance, he dreams of one day becoming the greatest fighter in all the Multiverse.


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Equipment


Tactical PARACORD Belt
Supports up to 800 lbs

Wallet
2000 Terran Credits

Charged Healing Runes
Palm-sized, imbued with healing magics

Slide-blade Impervium Katana
Retracts between 1' and 4 1/2', clips into his belt

Cell phone
Programmed to public and private connections

Rahal-Family Medallion
Hidden under his shirt



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Training

A committed fighter, Torin has received training from a myriad of powerful warriors from all over the Multiverse.



Torin's training with Sylvina

-Advanced training in Drakonto (Ancient Drakish martial art style)

-Increased speed, muscle control, strength and pain-tolerance

-Stronger bone and muscle density



Torin's training with Arbilus, the Kryst Warrior

-Broadsword Mastery

-Advanced understanding of quartz/diamond structure (benefits his 'earth control' chaos magics)

-Increased strength and pain-tolerance



Torin's training withRoth Ushiro, the ronin

-Understanding of advanced Iado

-Mastery over Araki Mujinsai Ryu

-Increased speed, sense of awareness and reflexes



Torin's training under the apprenticeship of the Chaos Mage, Rahal.

-Mastered fire-control

-Mastered ice-control and freezing abilities

-Advanced energy manipulation

-Advanced stone/earth control

-Mastered metal control

-Advanced water control

-Meditation and calming techniques

-Increased strength, endurance and willpower.

So begins...

Torin Illium's Story

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium had his head down on the counter at Gambit's, numbly clutching a half-drunken bottle of beer. Somewhere in his head, Torin knew how ridiculously stupid he was being. Alcohol and magic didn't mix well. Ever.

It also gave him a 'false-start.' The liquor stirred in his chest, giving him energy that Torin knew he didn't actually have. Still, the itch to fight remained as strong as ever...

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium 's eyes rolled over to Proto, trying to maintain some level of discipline despite his drunken demeanor. "...fuckin' tin-can..." he rasped. Discipline just wasn't his strength right now.

Torin now looked over at the trio of odd-balls who had just entered. And what was this? Weapons? Perhaps they were fighters...

And perhaps they were looking for a fight. Grabbing his half-empty beer bottle, Torin threw it suddenly, snapping his wrist with inhuman reflexes. The bottle shattered on a wood post not far from the trio, hopefully getting their attention.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium only shook his head at Proto. Perhaps were he not intoxicated, he might of thought more of the robot's reminiscing. Right now, however, he had other business. He stepped lazily off his stool, looking to each of the characters with curious intent. He felt out quite a large quantity of magic energies from one of them... the others appeared more-or-less normal.

Still, Torin was wise enough to know that he was drunk. He was at a disadvantage. It would probably be better not to pick a fight at all. Especially considering it three against one. This would probably be suicide.

...but how could he resist?

"You..." Torin pointed to the woman with red eyes, "...you reek of the dark arts, witch."

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium smirked knowingly. He could feel the anger rise of the girl like a mist. Perfect.

"Any mage who has to stoop to such pitiful and corrupted methods of magic is exactly that, though," Torin goaded her. There was no anger in his voice, merely youthful passion and rougeish confidence.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium grinned youthfully, shaking off a bit of the liquor in his system as the thrill before a fight washed over him once again. His pulse quickened. His heart skipped a beat. The young warrior stood straight, fists clenched in anticipation at his sides.

"Come on then, witch..." Torin goaded, "...prove me wrong."

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium 's eyes widened as the dark energy came rushing at his chest. He considered summoning a wall of quartz between him and the attack, but opted not too as he saw how easily it cut through the re-enforced tables of Gambit's.

Instead, the young fighter jumped quickly, flipping into the air as he just barely avoided the attack. It had been too close, he decided. The alcohol was making him think slowly. Fighting was just as much mental as it was physical.

Still in mid-air, Torin shot one of his fists out; a pillar of roaring flames jetting out from his knuckles towards Saerine.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium landed on top of a nearby table as the flames passed by, not quite as gracefully as he would have liked. Still, he managed to keep his footing despite his current intoxication.

"Oh, I'm just getting started..." Torin grinned, fiery eyes flickering with anticipation. Assuming a horse-stance, Torin brought his left hand upwards, two fingers extended. A jagged pike of solid would rumble in the floorboards beneath Saerine before breaking through in an attempt to pierce her right arm. As he did this, Torin began charging an energy sphere in his right hand. He didn't expect the quartz to actually do any damage. It was a distraction.

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#, as written by Nemo
"Sorry to keep you waiting then!" Torin grinned. The energy attack in his hand sparked and flared as it was charged. Time to throw this bad boy.

With a short grunt, Torin let loose the attack, winding back and flicking it off his hand like a baseball. The projectile came hurling towards Saerine with considerable speed.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium was distracted as Saerine re-directed the attack, immediately concerned that the projectile might hit one of the bystanders.

Unfortunately, that also meant Torin didn't see Saerine's own attack until it was right in front of his face. The young fighter had just enough time to raise his defenses before the energy collided and exploded into him. Torin was sent sprawling off the table with a grunt, landing on the floor below.

"D-d-damn..." Torin rasped as he struggled to pick himself up. How could he have let his guard down like that? A bottle of liquor fell from the table and shattered near his hand. Right...that's how...

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium was slumped over a counter at the far end of the bar, his dark hood cast over his face as he dozed quietly. He wasn't far from Celebrie Altadriel when he startled suddenly, as if violently aroused from a bad dream.

"...the hell..." Torin winced as he looked about himself. He almost couldn't remember passing at Gambit's last night after a quick brawl with a drunk vampire. Torin rose wearily from his seat, his attire tattered and torn, various gashes and scratches evident throughout his body. Groaning, the young mage put two fingers over the most serious-looking wound, exhaling quietly as magic energies flowed through his body, closing the gash as if it had never existed. The fighter continued this ritual several more times.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium looked over curiously as Marcella preformed her elaborate spell. Torin smirked, brushing a strand of black hair from his fiery eyes. How cute.

Still groggy, Torin turned to the holo-menu, looking to place in an order for a cup of coffee. Of course, he couldn't help but overhear conversation going-on not far from where he was, his heightened senses giving him the edge needed to eavesdrop appropriately.

"Well isn't that just interesting..." the young warrior grinned, turning to the group suddenly as he addressed them, "you guys looking for...for some fighters, huh?"

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#, as written by Nemo
"I'll stand, thanks," Torin remarked, receiving his cup of coffee and sipping from it tenderly. Indeed... the young man didn't look like the kind of fighter Celebrie was looking for. Not at all. His clothes were torn and tattered... his demeanor was weak and groggy from the morning... he even fumbled for his coffee when he reached for it first. If Celebrie or her guards happened to have any energy-scouters or bio-scanners on them, they would find his life-signature no higher then that of a normal man. As far as they knew, Torin was just a bum teenager who spent the night in a bar.

"And define what it is you need done," he continued after a few more sips from his coffee. His fiery eyes flickered to each of the guards threateningly before resting at last on Celebrie, "I don't take just any old odd-job."

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium considered their words carefully, setting his coffee down on the counter as he mused over the proposition. Infiltration and demolition was easy enough. He was a chaos mage, after all; all of his spells involved destruction. But assasination? Torin was a fighter, not an assassin. He fought to win, not to kill. Still, he wasn't completely opposed to it. There was just one determining factor...

"What would you give me for it?" he asked, cutting to the heart of the issue.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium shook his head, almost laughing to himself. "Keep your money," The fighter returned to his coffee, finishing it off with a last few sips before turning back to the group. "Keep your estates and medals too. I don't want them. I don't need them." His fiery eyes flashed briefly.

"All I want to know..." he began at last, "is what you can teach me. What knowledge can you give me? What new...powers could your people impart to a humble fighter?"

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium shivered as he sensed the cold, dark energies of Snow White, hlancing briefly over at the strange being. Still...she wasn't bothering anyone. Not yet anyway. And wouldn't that just make his day if she tried something...

"It also depends what -you- know," Torin remarked quietly, his gaze only briefly flashing across Itachi, "like I said, I'm only interested in knowledge. New techniques. New spells. New disciplines. Are your people a warrior race?" Torin maintained a calm, inquisitive tone throughout the ordeal. Nonetheless, the fighter was indeed quite eager to know all there was about this possible assignment. Any opportunity he could get to further his training, he would seize.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium nodded towards Celebrie as she left, turning back to his holo-menu as he thought about ordering another cup of coffee. That strange man who had materialized out of crows was over at the bar with another couple of patrons...being approached by that foul source of malevolent energies he had detected earlier.

The fighter reclined into a bar stool, his fiery eyes peering from beneath his ragged hood as he watched the encounter from the shadows.

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#, as written by Nemo
The second after the hideous voices called out, demanding in wretched passion the souls of those in the bar... a bright, humming sphere of raw energy would fly through the room like a baseball, aimed to collide with Snow White. If connected, the sphere would explode violently, likely sending the corrupted maiden sprawling on her back several feet from where she stood.

Torin walked slowly over to the spectacle, his eyes flaring as his fingers curled at his hips into white-knuckled fists. "Get out, creature," he spoke ruggedly, blood in his voice, "go back to the miserable hell-hole you crawled out of, and let the maggots take you."

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium lay against one of the walls of Gambit's, his ragged hood drawn over his downcast face as he tried fruitlessly to sleep. There was just too much... energy here. Too many people. Too many thoughts. Too many emotions. Most didn't interest Torin, though the fighter did raise his head as Kendra Shaw stumbled into the bar, groaning like some sort of zombie. She sort of looked like one too...

Slowly Torin rose, walking quietly over to the former Aschen Fleet Admiral. "You...uh...need a drink?" Torin asked, unsure as to what it was she needed exactly. A 'fix' sounded like some sort of drug though...

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"Pattern...." Torin murmured as he reached out with his mind to touch her life-force, sensing out to feel her energy. The poor woman was incredible ill, that was for sure. Her body was clearly craving whatever this 'pattern' thing was...and Torin was pretty damn sure it was a drug. She was a druggie. A user. A junkie. Obsessed with her candy of choice...

Torin pitied her. In a way, he even understood her. Everyone had their obsessions. Things they couldn't stop doing if their life depended on it. Torin had his of course, and in some ways it was more dangerous and deadly then any drug this woman could take.

"...there's med-packs with pain-killers in the back..." Torin said slowly, mulling it over in his mind, "...if you need it that bad, I cou-" The young fighter stopped abruptly as Mute Mouth suddenly held her Gauss Pistol to Kendra's forehead. For a split second, Torin was speechless.

"..da fuck!" Torin grunted, his eyes flaming as his right hand shot out. In a blurring motion, Torin would attempt to heel-palm the mechanized soldier in the chest plate of her armor, releasing a powerful blast of energy from his hand as he connected. If succesful, the blast would likely send Mute flying across the bar, sprawling on her back.

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#, as written by Nemo
Lucky for Kendra, Torin didn't watch the news much. Of course he knew all about the horrible holocaust Terra endured at the hands of the Aschens. At the moment though, the young fighter had no idea that Kendra, buried beneath filth and rags, was the admiral behind the attack. Torin stood between Kendra and Mute defiantly, his fiery flaming as he shook his head at the armored soldier.

"Jesus Christ...she's a human being!" Torin roared, "you don't just kill human beings for being fucked up! Get the fuck out of here!" The fighter flared his energy for a brief moment, a bright red aura exploding and fading over his physique as he did so.

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#, as written by Nemo
"Don't even fucking think abou-" Torin warned as Mute charged, aimed and fired her weapon. With wide-eyes, Torin crouched low, arms crossed over his head as her flared his life-energy once more. The magics prevented the uranium from doing any serious damage, though the force of the impact sent Torin flying.

"UUUghhnnnn..." Torin groaned as he slammed against the far wall of Gambit's, momentarily knocked out of the fight.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium rose quietly from his slump, wincing as he rubbed furiously at his temples as if trying to dispel a headache. Whatever that thing was, it was gone now. Torin couldn't say he'd miss it.

"Hey, you ok?" Torin asked as he approached Kendra, offering her a hand. Just then, the NPA burst in. Hm. That was a suprise. Usually it took the cops a good hour before they decided to do anything about a Gambit's fight. Pretty damn good time.

Nonetheless, Torin complied. Being a frequent brawler himself, the young chaos mage knew how things worked with the feds.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium submitted to the agents and would likely be taken away for some brief questioning. Fighter though he was, he wasn't stupid enough to get into trouble with the law.

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium lay against one of the far walls of the bar, his bruised face downcast as the sounds of night-time Gambit's consumed him. People talked and laughed... shouted and whispered... someone was shooting at empty glass bottles...

The young fighter just barely raised his head, his fiery eyes glimmering from beneath the brim of his ragged hood. There was energy here. Lots of it. It flowed about Torin's psyche lovingly, played out before the boy's trained mind like a love song. Perhaps there was something to be learned here.

The young man grit his marked jaw, watching the patrons carefully... waiting for the right moment... waiting...

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#, as written by Nemo
Torin Illium rose steadily as the dwarf called out to him. Gambit's didn't often have bartenders. The young fighter walked slowly, his cracked boots beating a dark metrenome against the cold flooring of Gambit's. His fiery eyes flickered as they met Trinity, his young jaw grit in contemplation.

"Give me a whiskey," Torin said quietly, his voice husking along the edge of a whisper, chancing another curious glance at the beautiful pirate and her lackies.