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Micro RPs
Fri Dec 26, 2014 5:21 pm by Tifa Lockhart
We got a new thing! Micro Rps are designed to be short, quick fire things. The rules and points are different in these, so be sure to read up on them before jumping in. Rules are important. Rules can be found [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.].

Think of it like Twitter, but less full of GamerGaters, misogyny and racism. At least it better be, banning people is such a hassle.

Go see. Explore. Find stuff. Join in. Peace and love


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 Practice Makes Perfect (Open, Expect Minor Fights)

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Jonathan DeLauren

Number of posts : 63
Age : 25
Registration date : 2011-08-08

Character sheet
Max MP:
0/1000  (0/1000)
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PostSubject: Practice Makes Perfect (Open, Expect Minor Fights)   Wed Aug 31, 2011 7:45 pm

Jonathan, still exploring this place called the Multiplex after his encounter with Rinoa and Mairi, wandered into what looked like an arena's waiting area. He recognized it because of how often he'd taken his sister to see Airboard Competitions, and from the occasional time he'd done it himself. This wasn't quite as big as an Airboard Arena, though, which made Jonathan wonder what it was for. He quickly snapped out of it when a voice called for his attention. "Excuse me. Excuse me! Sir! Are you here for training purposes?" Jonathan turned towards the voice's owner, a desk clerk, and shook his head.

"Oh. Sorry, no." He looked out at the arena. "Is that what this place is for?" The clerk nodded.

"Yes. Would you like to train?" She pulled out a sign-in sheet and slid it forward on the desk. Jonathan shrugged and stepped forward to take the pen.

"Sure, why not." He took the pen, signed his name, earned a "Thank you." from the clerk, and walked out into the Arena, still carrying the Twin Blade. He was stopped, though, by the clerk, who explained that he needed to put his Interface in his pocket. Jonathan looked confused, but he put it in his pocket anyways, actually using both eyes for once as he finally walked out into the Arena without incident.

Imagined Line: We are the last of the twelve Free Companie of Khatovar. We are the Black Company.

Something is seriously wrong with this place. Cat people? "Magic"? What the hell?!

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PostSubject: Re: Practice Makes Perfect (Open, Expect Minor Fights)   Fri Sep 02, 2011 10:45 pm

A single rose petal fell inside a shining city. Inside this city, were a multitude of people, each with a purpose and goal. Trains, monorails, and the like zoomed around, winding throughout the city. The rose petal feel with the utmost of grace, dancing through the air. It was around four feet from the ground, when it exploded into a large cloud of wispy white smoke. From the cloud of smoke emerged a figure. The smoke trailed behind him as he walked from it.

The figure has dirty blonde hair, that fell barely below his eyes. He sported a child-like complexion, with a hint of hardness and wisdom. He had bright hazel eyes, and stood at little over five feet [Five Feet Five- Five Feet Six.] Without armor, he wore a pair of white pants with orange strips running down the side, a plain white T-shirt, and an orange overcoat the slightly drags the ground. His footwear was a pair of white boots. On his right hand was a white glove with a rose-esque rune on it, and on his left hand was a plain white glove. He spread his arms, and spun around once, the smoke and his overcoat trailing after him.

"So this is the Universal Multiplex?" said Maix. One odd building caught Maix's attention, and he began walking toward it. He recognized it as the Hikaru Dome as described by Mairi. He continued to walk, his narrow footsteps echoing against the cold ground. The sound of laughter revibrated throughout the vicinity. It was not joyful laughter, however, but wicked laughter. It made Maix stop dead in his tracks.

It came from an alley parallel from him, and he pivoted, walking briskly toward the sinister laughter, that was now obviously being generated from multiple sources. As he reached the ally's end, the thirteen year old male was horrified to see a group of teenage males ganging up on a younger of the sort. The aggressors were athletic, fourteen to fifteen years, by the look. The boy, however. He was different.

He had silver-white hair that would fall below his eyes, if it wasn't so messy and didn't have deep curls. His eyes were a deep bright brown, and his features were child-like, with a hint of emptiness. He stood little above five feet [Five Feet Three- Five Feet Four], and was wearing a white tee shirt, a pair of unusually short black shorts, black socks, and a pair of brown and off-white boots that flared out and remained open until the actual shoe part. This was covered by a sleeveless overcoat, with only the top three buttons done. The remainder flared out, or when still, dragged the ground slightly. A brown leather band was protruding from each side of the coat and winded around the boy. It then winded down his arms, attaching independent bracer-esque sleeves. The overcoat had a hood, that had two protrusions resembling ears, and the hood was reluctantly down. He also had a long fluffy silver tail.

"What do you want? Go away." spoke the elder, and apparently the leader, for as he released the boy, and approached Maix, the others did also. Maix was the shortest, although not by much, but he didn't have near the amount of muscle mass as the others.

Ignoring their question, Maix said, "Leave him alone. Can't you see he's defenseless?!" and with that, he attempted to approach the genome, but was shoved back. "Where do you think your going?" he asked, aiming a punch at the thirteen year old's face. The punch stopped cold. Maix had caught it, and gripped it firmly. He threw the punch aside, making the delinquent stagger to the side. The black mage then aimed a left hook for his opponent's jaw. It connected with a crack, and the teen staggered into a wall.

Two more attacked, while the last tended to the first. They attempted to grab Maix's arms, but he ducked low, aiming a full-circle sweeper kick at their ankles, tripping them and causing them to fall. He took a step back, and spoke to the four. "Go, now." he commanded, and they complied.

The Savior walked to the broken genome, and offered his hand for support. The child, however, scurried off and to his feet in fear and ran out of sight. "Well then," thought Maix.

He then walked away, confused. He exited the ally, and made his was to the arena. He was almost to the registration desk, and felt a timid tap on his shoulder.

"Um... Excuse me?" said the frail voice. Maix turned around to see the child that had been being beaten up . "My name's Faulklin, and I just wanted to thank you for saving me." He produced a fragile smile.

"Oh, no problem!" said Maix, chuckling, "No one should be treated like that."

"A-a are you going to train?" asked Faulklin, timidly, to which Maix replied 'yes' and inquired if Faulklin would join him. The genome said that he would rather just watched. "Sure!" replied Maix, approaching the desk with Faulklin behind him.

The receptionist asked if Maix would like to train, and he affirmed this, beginning to walk in. "Wait! You have to sign up!" the lady spoke.

"Maix Ragnoar," he called, for he detested writing, as he entered the arena. He noticed that he was trapped inside, but shrugged it off. Faulklin walked over, and took a seat in the empty stands.

Besides the two, there was one other inside. "I guess your my opponent!" called Maix.

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Practice Makes Perfect (Open, Expect Minor Fights)
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