TerminusEst13

I wouldn't say that, Ess. It seems to me that the characters we stick with the most are characters that are personifications of any side of us, be it good or bad.
Maybe that's why I don't have any actually "evil" villains that I've stuck with, because I hate evil that much.

Anyway, since Kai's gonna be used in the Bad Company RP, I might as well give random facts about him.



In terms of RPed power, Kairaishi and Virelai are arguably my most powerful characters. The former's power is a nod to irony, considering how physically weak he is--he relies entirely upon gadgets, manipulation, intelligence, technology, and cheap tricks for his power. Virelai relies sheerly upon training, determination, her racial advantages, and instinct.

To fully represent Kairaishi's power in-game, I'd need to make a Archery/Dev Blaster, a Claws/SR Scrapper, a Ninja/TA Mastermind, and a Ninja Blade/Energy Aura Stalker. And I'm not sure about the /SR part on the Claws/ Scrapper--but he definately has claws that he keeps hidden in his gauntlets.
I already have the MM and Stalker.

Against a trained martial artist in a fair fight, Kairaishi would be toast. His body is so weak it would likely be crippled in a single blow, and his strength is so pathetic that any attack he would deliver would likely have the power of an 8-year-old's tongue slapping against a shin.

Fletcher Trudeau, Kairaishi's body, is British. There are moments in which Kairaishi slips into the english accent, or says phrases from their culture.

Kairaishi is a master of numerous martial arts and weaponfighting arts, having plenty of time to study them throughout his entire life as an oni. Though his body is incapable of using any aside from iaidojutsu and karasuhebi shikon, his knowledge is put to plenty of use via his ningyo.

Though he often delves into japanese mysticism for inspirations of his abilities, weaponry, and powers, everything he can do is purely technological. There is NOTHING the LEAST bit supernatural about what he can do.

Kairaishi has an official hero license and is registered with Freedom Corps, though he has yet to use it.

Kairaishi is more neutral than evil, but he is quite capable of swinging either way. Due to the ancient Aka Oni at first being a benevolent protector of humankind, he refuses to kill people outright unless he feels they deserve it, or is ordered to from someone he respects as a higher authority. His only goal in life is to have as much fun as he possibly can, to do whatever pleases him--sometimes his hedonistic attitude has him doing wicked or virtuous things. He has a respect for heroes who find pleasure and happiness in simply helping other people (he says that they have figured out an aspect of life he has always been puzzled with), and is genuinely confused by the motivations of those who wish to reform him--he says that he would never interfere with their desire to be good; it's just that he "goes to the other shop".

Kairaishi thinks the number of ninja and samurai in both Paragon and the Rogue Isles is abso-freakin'-lutely hilarious--especially since 90% of them aren't anywhere near what ninja or samurai are supposed to be. He likes to make fun of them at repeated intervals, primarily by pretending to be one. He considers any ninja or samurai or anyone who claims to delve into eastern martial-art concepts to be free game as the butt of his jokes. And he will continue unless they gain his respect.

His AS phrase as a Stalker is "I am the doctor of stabbingility now. I operate by stabbity stabbing. Now, hold still, you require a stabbing operation. This is going to hurt terribly."

He has numerous Placate phrases. His favorite is "This is not the ninja you are looking for."

Kairaishi, for the most part, is very nonchalant, due to his lazy nature. There are three ways, however, to piss him off beyond recovery. 1: Act superior to him, 2: Blindly insist that he's absolute evil and needs to be brought to justice, and 3: Betrayal, of himself or of anyone.

Kairaishi loves jazz and blues music.

Almost all of his crimes are cybercrimes, thanks due to his amazing hacking ability. He is guilty of very few actual physical crimes--most of his thievery is from, well, other thieves, and all of his attacking has been done in self-defense or against other criminals.

Kairaishi has a hate/love relationship with the Tsoo. He admires their martial arts and dedication to their mysticism, as well as all of the different types of fighting styles and nifty tricks that they've used.
But, on the other hand, they hate him, so that puts a damper on their relationship.

Kairaishi thinks pirates are badass.

Kairaishi had dozed off in the middle of Kefetasura's introduction and was standing asleep on his feet, slouched over, sakkat slumped over his face. "...Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..."

Sir Morgant's, unlike others, was a bit full of verbal chest-beating...though, to be fair, it was more about explaining what he is so people wouldn't be confused. Despite the length of the speech, he spoke in a humble english accent, in middle english that definately did not match our dimension's variation of it. "My name 'tis Sir Morgant Trahaearn Drystan of yon Dark Paladins of Ellenier. I amst a guardian, protector, and divine warrior who wast personally chosen by mine goddess to bring down heavenly wrath upon knaves and villains everywhere. A peacekeeper, a warrior, and a knight in every sense of yon word, I willst nay ever rest until villainy everywhere 'tis struck down and justice and righteousness reigns supreme!"
Despite (or perhaps because of) the drama of the speech, the crickets that could audibly be heard afterwards caused him to slump dejectedly.

Kairaishi shook his head at Morgant's little monologue and stepped forward, both of the Jounin in step with him, though they retained their crossed-arms and position behind him.
"'Sup, peeps? My name is...aaah...it's not important, but you can call me Kairaishi. As said before, I'm an aka Oni who's possessed a body--before the questions begin, let me tell you that I'm not overtly interested in answering them right now. Maybe afterwards. Anyway, I've possessed the body of Fletcher Trudeau, a puppeteer that some of you may remember as the puppeteer who tried to give hope to people during the devastating Rikti war. However, he decided to poke his nose into a few too many forbidden shrines in Japan, and, well, shlork. Here I am. Nasakenai, ne?" He waved his hand dismissively. "I've gained his knowledge, memories, and intelligence about such things, which I suppose makes up for my loss of magic and Oni abilities. And I can tell you, he ain't happy about me controlling his body. I'm surprised he hasn't died yet, but, anyway."
He turned around to wave his hand dramatically at the rest of the room, most particularly the heroes. Morgant was scowling at him.
"Now, look. I've got nothing against you heroes. In fact, I'm a little fond of you. But that doesn't mean I won't defend myself. So, don't go thinking I'm a laughing megalomaniac in a hidden fortress holding a girl captive, and I won't go all fuedal japan on yo' ***. Got it?"
He once again waved his hand to the Jounin behind him. "These are my Kabuki. Reiketsu and Bousatsu. They bite. Say hi. They're my personal bodyguards, and I can summon more at will. Oh, yeah, forgot to mention--they're all ningyo, puppets. I control them perfectly, down to every single twitch of their 'muscles'. No, I won't make them dance for you. And I can summon more ningyo at will, including a very large ningyo that would be me if I didn't lose my damn powers. Once again, don't assault me, and I won't say 'NINGYO RUSH kekeke' and unleash them all on you."
Kairaishi once again looked around the room with a smug grin underneath his mask.
"Oh, and I'm awesome. Just felt the need to tell you all that."

Kairaishi grinned from behind his mask, tilting his sakkat further over his eyes at Rosie's remark. "I wouldn't call myself Murasaki style...I ain't a chick, nor am I that envious or jealous of others. Think a bit later...13th century or so. Japanese Buddhist beliefs. I'm an Aka Oni, to be precise." That single statement would raise a few questions, but Kairaishi whirled around to face Lyden.
He ignored Kefetasura's statement, the Jounin continuing to stand behind him impassively, their head-taller-than-him height creating a strange constrast.

Morgant had made his way into the house as well, tilting his head left and right, having preferred to carry his own bag instead of burdening Helper with any more. He wandered around silently, trying to familiarize himself with the geography and floor plan of the mansion, at least as far as the locked doors would let him. As soon as Lyden came into the room, though, he entered as well, leaning up against a wall silently, just listening.

Morgant reached up with one hand to run his hands through with his fingers, giving it a quick comb as he rode up to the parking lot in front of the mansion. Doing yet another dangerously-close bend to the ground to peel some more rubber onto the pavement, he swerved into an empty spot and quickly ground to a halt, shutting the entire thing off. He hopped off of it and gave the motorcycle and quick pat on the headlight.
"Aaah, wonderfully done, mine noble steed. Remind me to give thee a treat later."
The only response was a dying out putter as the motorcycle slowly shut off.
"Heh." Morgant waved his hands nonchalantly, casting a quick ward over it to prevent thievery, and then turned around to see the rest of the cast.
"Ah! Essex! Sir Tom! Hail to thee, new and old meetings alikes!"
Any further potential greeting was spoiled from a scream from inside the mansion.



"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGH!"
Kairaishi had not taken too well to being landed on top of and had flailed both him and Kaloa off of the couch, sprawling onto the ground, popcorn splattering everywhere across the floor.
Four SHING!s could be heard, and each of the Jounin sprung into action, drawing out a katana in each hand, all four pointing in the air, mere inches away from the hapless Kaloa's face...their painted porcelain faces seeming to glare down at him with murderous intent within their fixed eyes.
"Stupid...freakin'...best gorram dream...port off the starboard bow...all your base...mmmph, freakin' little..." Kairaishi muttered sleepily as he put the sakkat back up on top of his head, adjusting it to it's usual fit...rubbing his eyes tiredly, he stared over at Kaloa and blinked a few times.
"Oh. Hey."
The Jounin quickly pulled away and walked back behind Kairaishi, sheathing their blades and crossing their arms once more, resuming their normal standstill posture.

((Sorry, Plague, you're too late))

And the books and the scream
And every nightmare and every dream
And the window over your land
SO TURN ME ON AND TAKE MY HAND!

Watching you, watching me
You don't know you betrayed me
Can't find myself lost in your lies
I NEED TO TRUST MYSELF AGAIN!

Cheery, peppy eurotech isn't exactly a genre one would enjoy listening to with angsty lyrics, but the Dark Angels had somehow managed to do it with their song Right Now. It was also what a trenchcoated man was listening to as he drove along the highway on his motorcycle, his grey coat flapping behind him as his sneaker-bearing shoes pushed pedals and piloted the driving machine.
"Onwards, noble steed! Yonder destination 'tis merely a distance away from thy roaring wheels!" An english accent speaking middle english barked through the air as he spoke to his motorcycle as if it were a horse, expertly blazing along the highway, ducking and diving and weaving left and right between cars and trucks. His ponytail whipped behind him as the wind crashed into his face, his sunglasses and NINJA MASK ((JUST FOR YOU, PYRRIA!)) adorning his face.
Geeze, it had taken far too much effort to manage to convince Celia that this would be done alone. But, well, somehow he had done it.
Of course, he fully expected to be sleeping on the couch for a few days when he returned.
Sir Morgant Trahaearn Drystan, invitation in hand, tilted his motorcycle to the ground as he hit a sharp turn, burning rubber onto the concrete as he bent dangerously close to the ground and righting himself back up again.
Morgant slowed down to a stop as he pulled into the front of the mansion, lifting up his sunglasses to reveal blazing green eyes, the left one with a large gouge over it that had left the eye perfectly intact.



"...Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..."
Snoring. Snoring could be heard from the already opened doors, not loud enough to be obnoxious or annoying, but definately loud enough to be noticed if you were a few feet away. The big screen TV was already in effect, playing a cheap samurai anime high on action but low on plot--fans of anime would notice it as "The Path of a Man". It was right in the middle of a rather bloody battle, the main protagonist having lost a leg and, somehow, gotten a cybernetic replacement--rather out of place and completely impossible, given the feudal japan setting. But, well, the fighting sequences was pretty flashy, at least.
The guest was sitting on a fine leather couch, sprawled out across the entire length of it, head resting on one armrest. He had his sakkat tilted over his eyes, a bag of opened, halfway-eaten popcorn sitting in the lap of his gi, hands clutching onto it protectively. His build was scrawny and his height was short, likely only 5'4"...his entire form looked the antithesis of "threatening". On either ends of the couch, two Jounin stood there impassively, arms crossed...completely unmoving, the two katanas on their back untouched, as well as the third sheathed at their waist.
Kairaishi, the legendary puppetmaster.
"Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..." He continued to snore as he slept on the couch.

((CLAIMS SPOT AS HIS. Will post later))

Virelai simply stayed with Essex, keeping a wary eye upon the two, still suckling her thumb thoughtfully.

Devin simply shrugged and clung to his doll, cooing in it's "ear", clinging tight to it as he headed upstairs.

Devin once again managed his lazy smile over at Blightlord, matching the monster's scowl with a sleepy smirk. "Naaah...I doubt it. But there's only one way to find out, right?"

((Stopped worrying about everything? What're the chances of that?))

Devin's lazy face grinned at Essex's judgement. "Yes ma'am, mother superior." He once again lifted up his hand in a salute, smacking audibly against his forehead, but not even wincing from the contact. His weary gaze traced over across the ground over at Rosalind, nodding to her slowly. "I'm...a good boy. I'm a very very good boy...hehehehe...very, very good indeed. I...like to help people, make them all better...and I only hurt those who are mean and nasty and not nice...haaahhahahahaheheheh..." He quickly stumbled over and flopped over, putting his arms around her in a tight hug, his face resting on her shoulder. "I'm a very good boy. We can be...hehehe...friends?"

Virelai perked up at the mention of strawberry shortcake. Her face glowed as she managed a grin. She loved strawberries. She gurgled happily as she buried her face once again into Essex's stomach. "Thank you, miss Essex..." She muttered timidly, trying not to bother her once again.

Virelai simply gave out a sniffle as she snuggled into Essex's stomach, one again implanting her thumb right into her mouth forlornly...pleased at the fact that it wasn't bleeding anymore, and upset that she had bothered Miss Essex.

Devin, being perfectly and entirely natural, was looking around the room with a bit of curiosity, wondering what the hell had just happened. The lazy gaze returned to his eyes, and he looked up at Essex with a girlish, innocent giggle, clutching his doll close to him, pointing at Jake with one hand. "He started it with the spiders. He...swarmed the place with them. Blightlord also started hitting...uh..." He pointed over at Burning, not aware of his name. "...They need to be punished, right? They look...haahahahha..ahheeehehe...they...look...heeh ehahahaha...like they'd...be nice for dessert. They're...bad...people...haaahahahaha..." Devin licked his lips in anticipation, his eyes, still half-closed in his usual lazy gaze, glinting in a maniacal shimmer. "I...can rrrrrend their flesh...haahahhaha...snap their bones, tear them out into powder...drag their lifeless forms, without legs, their intestines trailing along the ground to splatter gore every whichway...clutch their still-beating heart and wring it until every...haahrhehahHAHAHHahahhEEEhehehee...every... heehehe...drop of blood lies in a pool at their lifeless feet." Aside from the bouts of his insane laughter, his entire voice was calm and quiet. "Bad...people need to be punished. They...cannot be allowed to continue to be bad, yes? Only...good people are allowed...heehehehehehehe...yes..."

Virelai suddenly managed to stop, her eyes snapping wide. The loss of her ability to freeze the room had caught her offguard. She quickly looked around and noticed the frosted, dead spiders on the floor and grinned.
Good. That was all she wanted, anyway.
A searing flash of pain up her arm brought her attention back to her thumb, her forearm now soaked with frozen blood, and fresh continuing to still drip out from her gouged thumb, which she had almost entirely chewed off.

"MISS ESSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEX!" Virelai wailed as she ran right back to Essex, hand held out.

((Do I sense the birth of a running...uh...not-quite-gag?))

...Sigh.

Okay, then.

Personally, I'd go with WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot.

Speaking of which, here's one tidbit I find amusing: Both of my main heroes, Virelai and Sir Morgant, live an honor-bound life. Virelai's concept of honor is a lot more flexible than Morgant's black-and-white views, but she still holds true to honor, nonetheless.

Despite both of them living by honor, per se, I, personally, think that honor (in combat) is an outdated, useless, and overrated concept.

((Again, I leave for a morning, and look what happens. You guys suck. You hear me? You SUCK))

Virelai sighed as she shook her head due to all the spiders in the room. She lifted up her left hand to stroke at the eyepatch over her right eye. "Can't get a damn moment of silence in here." She swore under her breath.
Devin was ignoring all of the drama between the children, starting to stomp the spiders on the ground, his eyes flashing with every shake of the ground underneath his feet.
Virelai, however, bit her lower lip. This was going to take a lot of effort on her part, and would more than likely make a lot of children uncomfortable. But, well, it would get rid of the spiders.

Virelai closed her eyes, biting down firmly on her thumb once more as she concentrated, a chilly aura sweeping out from her and starting to flood the entire room. The temperature slowly started to dwindle throughout the entire area, dripping down...down...down. Movement slowed and shivers ran down everyone's spine, perhaps even moreso for the fire-associated Burning Brawler. The temperature soon matched the level of a fridge...then dipped down even moreso until it soon started matching the level of a freezer. The spiders writhed where they lay, quite literally in agony as they silently and slowly froze to death.
Blood streamed down Virelai's hand, so deep had she bitten herself in concentration, dripping off partway down her arm and solidifying in mid-air, shattering on the frosted ground.

Devin shivered at the chill, whining and taking off his jacket, grabbing up his doll and wrapping it around her, shivering in just his tanktop. "It's...it's all right...Veronica...this will...keep you warm..." He chattered as his teeth clapped together, frost passing through the air.

I've been RPing on AIM for twelve years, heh heh.
And no, it's not a lot different...except we don't have as long to respond.

I'm more referring to three shots WHILE twirling it on a finger, without breaking the spin.
If ANYONE can do that with a single-action, AND hit the target dead-on, they are inhuman. Like Vir.

DO NOT WAAAAAAAAAANT

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I don't want you to goooooo. ;_;

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Her revolver is a Raging Bull,

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Sweet, I was thinking of getting one sometime but they don't make it in .357 Magnum. Either I'd have to go with the .44 Mag or go with the Tracker line as they have .357 Mag.

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Actually, there's two compromises available. The Model 416 uses .41 Magnum, and the "Raging Thirty" uses the .30 Carbine ammo, though I have no clue just how available they are. They're not the .357 mag, but, well, they're there.

As another random fact, Vir's Raging Bull takes the ungodly .50 S&W ammo, which has enough stopping power to drop down elephants, rhinos, and bears--since she's able to make ammo instantly due to her ice manipulation, it only makes sense that she'd go with the biggest cal of ammo, heh. Despite the unfathomable power behind the shots, due to her training and inhuman strength, she is capable of dual-weilding them effortlessly. Out of CoH/V, however, she only uses one, and has all sorts of neat, utterly-impossible-in-real-life tricks she can do with it. One example is how she melees the opponent with the butt of her revolver, palm on the barrel and finger in the fingerguard, then twirls it, firing three point-blank shots to her opponent's torso.
Her revolver is a single-action, which makes her tricks even more flashy and impossible.

(More details coming on Morgant, Vir, Devin, Gearfate, and Walter...sometime. And thanks, Py! Nice to know people like my chars, heh)

Virelai is very, very insecure and constantly tries to look for acceptance and recognition. Through her lack of tact and empathy, most of the recognition of negative, which stings her. She also tries too hard to be a badass.
Virelai hates it when other people angst over minor, meager things. She's so tempted to scream out "You think YOU have it bad?!" and then waylay how her entire LIFE sucks and every day makes her want to die, but she hates angsting.
Virelai is also quite suicidal, though her morals refuse to let her kill herself, combined with the fact that she's the only hope her parents' legacy has now.
Her revolver is a Raging Bull, and she's quite an expert at fanning it. Sometimes it hurts her to do so, but, well, she's used to pain.

Devin is nucking futs. But you all know this.
Despite his complex mind and insanity, his moral code is actually quite simple: Bad guys die, good guys get healed and live. He's very black and white.
Devin is a Doom RP character. There you go, military background and gunning explained.

Well, I've gotta head to college now. I'll likely add more about Devin and Vir once I get back, and delve into Morgant/Rendition.

((Horrific and terrifying, and I like it. You left out a tiny little detail, though--what was the dark force, and why did it take her? Why did it manifest into the panda?
Despite those questions, it was an amazing read, and she sounds exactly like she should be a boss from a horror game))

Devin stood up woozily, flopping out of the trunk and staring up at the ceiling as he breathed in ragged, hurried pants, his eyes glazed as his hallucination finished. Just in time to catch Rosie's comment.
"...If only wimps bleed...haaahahahaaa...then I suppose...haha...haaa...I'm the worst of them all." He said calmly as he stood up, brushing his labjacket off and taking it off, tossing it back into the trunk along with his mask and cleaver.

A sticky dart flew through the air and implanted itself onto Shiro's forehead, splorting there.
Virelai hid her revolver behind her back, whistling innocently, her head tilted back to stare at the ceiling, blinking both her scarred eye and her eyepatched eye.

A monster.
Virelai clapped in glee when she saw the cloth creature rise out of it's coffin, but she could see it for what it was--a mass of clothing, given life for amusement of others and entertainment. Virelai also frowned when Shiro ruined the show. She found it interesting.
Devin saw the remaining clothes as a monster. A gigantic snake with a horned skull as a head, tongues trailing out of it's eyes and three others trailing out of it's mouth, each of them dripping with blood. It's flesh was ragged, and with human hair forming a gigantic line on it's back. The creature hissed and roared, and the other students screamed in panic, starting to run away.
He shouldn't be allowed to harm the others!
Devin leapt forward with a feral screech, leaving Veronica behind on the ground to keep her safe, his cleaver raised high. The creature spat and buried it's teeth into Devin's shoulder, sending pain through his body, but the young maniac bravely continued to hack away at it's form, biting at it, it's flesh ripping oddly sounding like cloth being torn to pieces...

However, in real life, since cloth also can't handle being tackled, Devin wrecked into the back and collapsed into the trunk, where it then slapped shut, the lock swinging in place.

Virelai couldn't help but stare, brushing the illusionary frog dampness off of her hat, then frowning as it faded at her touch. Illusions. Hmph. She hated being decieved. She made a mental note to find out who sent the frog on her and shoot him.
"Any idea what was up with him, Stalla?" She asked Stella, tilting her head to the side curiously and thumbing at the now wriggling chest, one hell of a fierce fight being heard from inside.