' I think this is a sign. I was starting to think that I should make my own OC lol
Post by Mobius on Apr 16, 2014 21:53:29 GMT -5
“32.6 North° and 126.7 East°, but where is it?” A distraught transmission labored from an exhausted Captain relayed to a cabal of crewmen abroad an inconspicuous cruise line. “We can’t continue circling this area. We’re changing our route back to Kyushu before I lose my job.” The indefatigable rave audibly crackled in low frequency radios, properly encrypted and only earshot of several feet of any personnel. “All morning and all I get is hailed. At this rate they’ll think we’re Somalian pirates.” A whimsical air between panic and capricious weighed only grams of the intrinsic anomaly they stumbled onto. The stern and front castled beleaguered with pedestrians confused at the amount of detours were wholly unconscious and prohibited to interact with the side deck by crew. The generic russet flooring clashed onto their white kakis and similar shaded polos, all the accouterments of a typical luxury vessel touring the Nagasaki Prefecture. They were concern only by inconvenience since the personnel that brigaded their foot-traffic were vastly ordinary, but within the confines of both promenade deck and throughout besieged the very unusual.
“Enough. We found something. Anchor here.” A soft masculine monotone voice hushed a strident urgency to command, instead capitulated a confound interest into the unusual that the yammering captain would so obviously address. “.. Sir – understood, over.” The unusual that loomed behind shady passenger limitations were armed guardsmen and thoroughly armored in all fineries of technological prestige but none of the intimidating numbers. They were either standing feet away, stationed under the quilts of life boats, or their mixed bag of barrels from their assault weaponry stood out of windows and port holes underneath. They were all nestled in the east side of the cruise, and all hands were not only on deck but none were permitted to be in the cabins adjacent. Their insignia was far from promulgated but rather only decipherable to those of the underworld – criminal underworld. A furtive liner was not boarded or requisitioned by them but provided as a civilian facade. The emblem they all shared was a vivacious red crested raven swooping with talons erect and emblazoned with English ‘e r t e x’ lettering in a 14 point regular ariel following a stylized capital 36 point Times New Roman V.
“Analysis?” Again a yielding monotone ushered though tinged in rasp couldn’t mask the obvious age of its speaker. Surrounded by a small service of these warriors were a pair and one held a metallic clad appendage on the channel dial, but they outstandingly stood out by apparel alone at the side deck. The young male between the pair appeared in his mid 20s, and holding a small walkie-talkie in an evident metal plated glove woven by polymorphic elastic nano-fibers. The forearm plates were spool readied akin to the backhand, knuckles, and so forth with a same rough gore tex texture for fiber made of the same material. His ebony mantle cascading over a definitive shoulder horizon unto his feet which were similarly encased with hardened abrasive-proof fiber glass enriched with analogous carbon fiber nanotubular. The armor he sported was tenuously uniformed to those hidden and shielding them, minus few color coordination, aesthetic details, and of course entrenched in a flame resilience fabric. His short ink-like hair waved passively in accordance to weak oceanic gust, giving a gloomy complement to his dark-pale complexion and an equal resolute expression of apathy – studious. His name was Jhieten Matsunagi.
“It seems to be a high frequency vibration of some kind.” A concerned voice curiously remarked, putting emphasis on the concluding syllable to mark an obvious inquisition within a declaration. A male voice for certain, but with higher vowel pronunciations and a lot more treble pitched with much extol through the disposable communication device.
“Temporal.” Remarked the other of the pair, and with a much more flat and confident tone, as a feminine squeak hardly penetrating a boding – raspy, vitriolic expression. Her countenance likewise ominous carried a reputation amongst them as extremely visceral – extremely violent. Her scarlet trusses were shoulder length and hardly concealed an intense luminous red exuding from her artificial eye. The ocular apparatus consisted of a brilliant red crystalline implanted in a metallic lamination encompassing one portion of her face though the majority remained human-like. Her other eye was a lovely shade of emerald iris with a complementary white sclera – human. He knew about its tranquil brow underlining a madden penchant for suicide while the radiant luster of red was voraciously violent and self preserving. An unfortunate coupling seeded within one beautiful woman made those nearby terrified, and underneath that disaster laid a fiercer beast because of it. Her fair skin and elegant facial features secreted by a salver of warm cybernetics only metaphorically, as they were tangibly jointed as flesh and metal and very discernible. She also adorns their full cloaked regalia. Her name was Tsubaki Isekiru.
“Glass of Petrus, pomerol.” Sharply requested by Jhieten as the twosome peered at a surreal occurrence – an oscillating fragmented glob shining before them hovering in close proximity. Peering through any segmentation revealed disjointed spatial undulating between observer and horizon with botches of white static fixed onto this location plastered on an invisible 2 dimensional canvas. It remained immobile in the meantime, and possibly interrelated with Hashima Island’s disappearance. They coasted these waters for an entire morning in voyage to what is known as Battle Ship Island, in hopes of contacting the missing Mitsu Mazono: a fellow agent. A few moments later:
“Sir, the wine.” One of the crewmen gave Jhieten though informally dressed and handed in a manner similar to a friend would hand over a cup of water; though he’ll give a glimpse of eye contact onto the young operative’s face, Jhieten will neither reciprocate nor care before completing almost a half revolution with his arm holding the glass. He’ll induct grade school centrifugal principles and allow room for inertia to inert any fluid escaping by complying with his make-shift centrifuge. At the apex of a half revolution he’ll compose a negligible centripetal acceleration by returning a counter-swing to fling the whole object straight into the visually ablated anomaly. This exhibition demonstrated not Jhieten’s physics, but rather illustrated a benign relationship between substantial matter and any fraction of evidently butchered space-time contacting it. He’ll further concluded how intact said object remained since he charmed the entire wine glass, water included, for a transient state of sensational relay using his psychic talents. He’ll faintly feel an impact upon a shapely reconfiguration which determines solidity and gravity being constant though fleeting from an immense differing lengths linking present and there.
“Something I can tie rope too?” Jhieten’s arm extended horizontally towards the man’s general direction. He’ll abstain from establishing visual contact with his brow weakly concave in assiduous surveillance. Tsubaki, standing opposite of her colleague’s outward hand, drifted her attention to Jhieten in a brief synchronous comprehension of his thought made obvious by the action alone. When a Tavor was produced and lassoed properly, it was tossed straight into the rippling pieces of void as the soldier who provided it became a passer-by. Jhieten will intrinsically invoke clairvoyant symbiosis again to gauge every physical sensation the rifle will feel to determine its motion, gravity, and the solid surface which impeded his first probe attempt. Numerous minutes elapsed with his fastidious investigation concluded upon a final tug back into this branch of reality.
“Two-way.” Fishing a battered Tavor with a decisive yank; however, he’ll hold one end of the line to further inspect whether its threads were physically distorted. Jhieten diverges his attention onto this portal by releasing his grip apathetically on said nylon with a careless clamor produced by negligently allowing a this man’s Tavor to plummet. He’ll consciously decide an appropriate course of action with one determined foot forward before meeting his gaze at his trusted partner. He calculated her feedback be an uncanny likewise embrace with a same-steadfast sentiment he had approached. “Tsubaki,” he pleaded, “I need you to monitor others as second in command.” He confidently assigned, identifying that all-too-familiar air she usually emanate when they part-take in combat having spent much time with her as partners. A mere signature stare-down and rattling of her robotic fist alerted him how indubitably ready she was. Jhieten was attuned to her as she was to him, and her proactive propensity needed immediate cessation for her role was significant. “Chances are Mitsu is still alive. I won’t be alone. Report back to the others.”
Though her silence only meant apprehension it no less solidified her ancillary role. Jhieten swiftly balanced on top the railing with a mighty thrust of leg strength. Perched steadily with knees buckled and his posture lowered, his head and eyes upward staring off into what is assumed a two-way dimensional rift. Both hands lagged behind in how promptly he moved, but not how unresponsive they were; however rapid he was, they were positioned to stylized an avianesque representation. They’ll counter weight his inertia by holding onto either Persuader with fervor. For every micro-second, betwixt the stationary state he was in until now, the gauntlets reconstructed on cue. It was a decorous transition camouflaged by pure velocity and concealment by his shroud. A momentary paused allowed him reevaluate a very perilous risk not uncommon with Serenity, but alas he delve into this capacious phantasm. He plunged straight into a rifting white blotch without a glimmer of alteration.[/color]
test
Onto part 2.
[Thread Stipulation: Though this is originating in Earth, Jhieten will be making it to Junon hence why I posted this in the appropriate section. I am going to construct my next post tomorrow and then I'll allow a small handful in that aren't engaged in a previous story. So don't worry, let me just set the tone for this roleplay and you'll see where I am getting at.]
“Enough. We found something. Anchor here.” A soft masculine monotone voice hushed a strident urgency to command, instead capitulated a confound interest into the unusual that the yammering captain would so obviously address. “.. Sir – understood, over.” The unusual that loomed behind shady passenger limitations were armed guardsmen and thoroughly armored in all fineries of technological prestige but none of the intimidating numbers. They were either standing feet away, stationed under the quilts of life boats, or their mixed bag of barrels from their assault weaponry stood out of windows and port holes underneath. They were all nestled in the east side of the cruise, and all hands were not only on deck but none were permitted to be in the cabins adjacent. Their insignia was far from promulgated but rather only decipherable to those of the underworld – criminal underworld. A furtive liner was not boarded or requisitioned by them but provided as a civilian facade. The emblem they all shared was a vivacious red crested raven swooping with talons erect and emblazoned with English ‘e r t e x’ lettering in a 14 point regular ariel following a stylized capital 36 point Times New Roman V.
“Analysis?” Again a yielding monotone ushered though tinged in rasp couldn’t mask the obvious age of its speaker. Surrounded by a small service of these warriors were a pair and one held a metallic clad appendage on the channel dial, but they outstandingly stood out by apparel alone at the side deck. The young male between the pair appeared in his mid 20s, and holding a small walkie-talkie in an evident metal plated glove woven by polymorphic elastic nano-fibers. The forearm plates were spool readied akin to the backhand, knuckles, and so forth with a same rough gore tex texture for fiber made of the same material. His ebony mantle cascading over a definitive shoulder horizon unto his feet which were similarly encased with hardened abrasive-proof fiber glass enriched with analogous carbon fiber nanotubular. The armor he sported was tenuously uniformed to those hidden and shielding them, minus few color coordination, aesthetic details, and of course entrenched in a flame resilience fabric. His short ink-like hair waved passively in accordance to weak oceanic gust, giving a gloomy complement to his dark-pale complexion and an equal resolute expression of apathy – studious. His name was Jhieten Matsunagi.
“It seems to be a high frequency vibration of some kind.” A concerned voice curiously remarked, putting emphasis on the concluding syllable to mark an obvious inquisition within a declaration. A male voice for certain, but with higher vowel pronunciations and a lot more treble pitched with much extol through the disposable communication device.
“Temporal.” Remarked the other of the pair, and with a much more flat and confident tone, as a feminine squeak hardly penetrating a boding – raspy, vitriolic expression. Her countenance likewise ominous carried a reputation amongst them as extremely visceral – extremely violent. Her scarlet trusses were shoulder length and hardly concealed an intense luminous red exuding from her artificial eye. The ocular apparatus consisted of a brilliant red crystalline implanted in a metallic lamination encompassing one portion of her face though the majority remained human-like. Her other eye was a lovely shade of emerald iris with a complementary white sclera – human. He knew about its tranquil brow underlining a madden penchant for suicide while the radiant luster of red was voraciously violent and self preserving. An unfortunate coupling seeded within one beautiful woman made those nearby terrified, and underneath that disaster laid a fiercer beast because of it. Her fair skin and elegant facial features secreted by a salver of warm cybernetics only metaphorically, as they were tangibly jointed as flesh and metal and very discernible. She also adorns their full cloaked regalia. Her name was Tsubaki Isekiru.
“Glass of Petrus, pomerol.” Sharply requested by Jhieten as the twosome peered at a surreal occurrence – an oscillating fragmented glob shining before them hovering in close proximity. Peering through any segmentation revealed disjointed spatial undulating between observer and horizon with botches of white static fixed onto this location plastered on an invisible 2 dimensional canvas. It remained immobile in the meantime, and possibly interrelated with Hashima Island’s disappearance. They coasted these waters for an entire morning in voyage to what is known as Battle Ship Island, in hopes of contacting the missing Mitsu Mazono: a fellow agent. A few moments later:
“Sir, the wine.” One of the crewmen gave Jhieten though informally dressed and handed in a manner similar to a friend would hand over a cup of water; though he’ll give a glimpse of eye contact onto the young operative’s face, Jhieten will neither reciprocate nor care before completing almost a half revolution with his arm holding the glass. He’ll induct grade school centrifugal principles and allow room for inertia to inert any fluid escaping by complying with his make-shift centrifuge. At the apex of a half revolution he’ll compose a negligible centripetal acceleration by returning a counter-swing to fling the whole object straight into the visually ablated anomaly. This exhibition demonstrated not Jhieten’s physics, but rather illustrated a benign relationship between substantial matter and any fraction of evidently butchered space-time contacting it. He’ll further concluded how intact said object remained since he charmed the entire wine glass, water included, for a transient state of sensational relay using his psychic talents. He’ll faintly feel an impact upon a shapely reconfiguration which determines solidity and gravity being constant though fleeting from an immense differing lengths linking present and there.
“Something I can tie rope too?” Jhieten’s arm extended horizontally towards the man’s general direction. He’ll abstain from establishing visual contact with his brow weakly concave in assiduous surveillance. Tsubaki, standing opposite of her colleague’s outward hand, drifted her attention to Jhieten in a brief synchronous comprehension of his thought made obvious by the action alone. When a Tavor was produced and lassoed properly, it was tossed straight into the rippling pieces of void as the soldier who provided it became a passer-by. Jhieten will intrinsically invoke clairvoyant symbiosis again to gauge every physical sensation the rifle will feel to determine its motion, gravity, and the solid surface which impeded his first probe attempt. Numerous minutes elapsed with his fastidious investigation concluded upon a final tug back into this branch of reality.
“Two-way.” Fishing a battered Tavor with a decisive yank; however, he’ll hold one end of the line to further inspect whether its threads were physically distorted. Jhieten diverges his attention onto this portal by releasing his grip apathetically on said nylon with a careless clamor produced by negligently allowing a this man’s Tavor to plummet. He’ll consciously decide an appropriate course of action with one determined foot forward before meeting his gaze at his trusted partner. He calculated her feedback be an uncanny likewise embrace with a same-steadfast sentiment he had approached. “Tsubaki,” he pleaded, “I need you to monitor others as second in command.” He confidently assigned, identifying that all-too-familiar air she usually emanate when they part-take in combat having spent much time with her as partners. A mere signature stare-down and rattling of her robotic fist alerted him how indubitably ready she was. Jhieten was attuned to her as she was to him, and her proactive propensity needed immediate cessation for her role was significant. “Chances are Mitsu is still alive. I won’t be alone. Report back to the others.”
Though her silence only meant apprehension it no less solidified her ancillary role. Jhieten swiftly balanced on top the railing with a mighty thrust of leg strength. Perched steadily with knees buckled and his posture lowered, his head and eyes upward staring off into what is assumed a two-way dimensional rift. Both hands lagged behind in how promptly he moved, but not how unresponsive they were; however rapid he was, they were positioned to stylized an avianesque representation. They’ll counter weight his inertia by holding onto either Persuader with fervor. For every micro-second, betwixt the stationary state he was in until now, the gauntlets reconstructed on cue. It was a decorous transition camouflaged by pure velocity and concealment by his shroud. A momentary paused allowed him reevaluate a very perilous risk not uncommon with Serenity, but alas he delve into this capacious phantasm. He plunged straight into a rifting white blotch without a glimmer of alteration.[/color]
test
Onto part 2.
[Thread Stipulation: Though this is originating in Earth, Jhieten will be making it to Junon hence why I posted this in the appropriate section. I am going to construct my next post tomorrow and then I'll allow a small handful in that aren't engaged in a previous story. So don't worry, let me just set the tone for this roleplay and you'll see where I am getting at.]
