Player's Choice 2014: (M) Time Blades: Heroes in Time.

**SikstaSlathalin** · 10-08-2014, 06:59 PM

Rated M for sex, violence, language, and use of drugs and alcohol

I am a journeyman of Time and a vanguard of balance.
Blessed by the Father of Time and Space, I will use my gifts to be a defender of the world from the chaos of imbalance.
I am a seeker of balance not only in my duty but also in myself.
My body will stay strong, but my mind and spirit will stay stronger.
This is my profession and my destiny.
I am a keeper of this oath and will always hold it in my heart.
I will never forget that I am only a watchman, keeping the world in balance and I must never let my personal beliefs impede my duty.
I am a respectful follower of the Chronos and their teachings.
Despite the evil I may witness I swear to never abuse this gift and change the current of time for my personal gain or alter it to fit my ideals.
I am a Time Blade and this is my binding oath.

The Binding Oath of every Time Blade.

Let the hunt begin.

IC here and ready to be posted in.

Plot: The Time Blades, an ancient and secret group of Chronomancers or controllers of Time. They're followers of Idan the god of Time and Space, their job is to keep the balance of space and time perfectly level. They go back in time and stop some events but they also trigger others or change them in some acute way to keep this balance. One placed in such a place of power must be of indomitable and pure will to not abuse it but, as nature has shown us time and again absolute power corrupts absolutely or in this case misleads absolutely.
The Blades have to hunt down one of their own who hopes to alter the Time Stream so good triumphs ultimately in this world eliminating all bad but as ideal as this sounds it cannot be, good needs bad to survive.

And the Time Blades must keep the balance even if that means killing this idealist and preventing a world where war is a thing of fiction and peace reins eternal. This disaster takes place in the most important room of the base, the Time Sanctum. It houses the Time Stones, the mystical green glass stones that grant the Blades their ability to travel backwards and forwards in time. It's heavily guarded and controlled, but even these measures failed when one of the very guards that protect the stones forgot their oath and jumped into the portal to begin their one person war on evil.

Setting: The story starts in the Time Blade base high in the Himalayas. The Time Blades have come a long way from their arcane rituals and green glass weapons and armor. In their massive underground base technology is at the peak of human perfection and some from beyond the solar system are whirring and buzzing 24/7 monitoring everything from gas station cameras to government super computers and military satellites. They have eyes and ears literally everywhere nothing happens on the planet they don't know about, many new recruits ask why all this spying and what ever happened to personal privacy? The answer is simple, the time/space continuum doesn't care so neither do we. It takes a strong stomach and an even stronger conviction of duty to not use all this technology to protect the innocent from crimes, but that is against the very doctrines of the Time Blades. As the story progresses you will find yourself in various points in time.

Aside from the monitoring center the base has everything you could need to be happy and healthy. Training rooms, labs, dorms, social areas, farming, utilities everything it is for all intents and purposes a country within a country.

Info: We're called the Time Blades but as was said above we are totally modern though we keep our green glass armor and weapons around. We wear green tinted glasses during a job and our everyday weapons have green tints to them and our On-Duty Uniform/Armor is green as well, but we adjust our gear depending on what point in time we go to and off duty wear is whatever you want it to be.

We're a paramilitary group and as such we have ranks they are as followed aside from Chronos which I will be playing the other ranks can be 2 of each aside from Followers which can be 4 at best but can be just 2 as well. 2 Keepers, possibly 1 Defender, 2 Seekers, 2 Journeyman, 2 Watchman, 2 Vanguard, 2-4 Followers.

Each rank has a designating weapon of office that empowers their own control of time to be used only in urgently needed situations the weapons can shrink into pendants to save on bringing unwanted attention to someone carrying a full sized greatsword in New York City.

Spoiler: Time Blade ranks and weapons.

Spoiler: Time Armor and uniform

Spoiler: Time magic

Character sheet

Name:
Age:
Gender:

Appearance(pic and description):
Race:
Rank:

Racial Skills and Abilities (limit of 4):
Normal Skills and Abilities(limit of 5):

Non-Rank Weapons(Limit of 2):
Other Gear/ personal effects:

Personality:
Background:
Other:

The Players/ Reserved spots

Chronos

1: Calabar by Siks

Keepers

1: Nix Murilegus by MarchingThunder

2: Metias Altan by SoulReaper

Defenders

1: Amabelle by Setsa

2: Ilandra Olin Antagonist and GM's NPC

Seekers

1: Haladiriel Malan'tai by Cfavano

2: Mercer Gar by Koti

Journeymen

1: Thalia Serus by Siks

2: Marcus Chase by ChiliChiliWongo

Watchmen

1: Nebelia Yajelli by Koti

2:

Vanguards

1: Melodi Waverly by Setsa

2:

Followers

1: Sorrel by Pheasant

2:

3:

4:

RP Rules

All RPA Rules and Matrue Section rules apply.
I made this a mature RP for the reason of creative freedom, anything goes for the most part as long as none of the rules are broken
I am the GM and as such I have the last say in issues.
Any issues between players deal with in PMs.
If the problem persists send me both sides and I'll see if I can help.
If I help and it continues ask a mod or get out.
Be active and post at least a paragraph a post.
Ignorance of the rules won't save you if you break them.
Be smart, have fun, and no modding or powerplaying.
Any new RP ideas are welcome just run them by me and we'll see about working them out.
Inactivity will be punished by the death of your char.
The GM is the only judge of inactivity, when the RP is going well it's a week unless you send me word of your inactivity then I'll pull you along but after two weeks your character will be on the chopping block unless you have a good reason for not being around. And after three weeks they die no matter what.
Reserves will only be held for a week before you lose it.
No naturally magical races like Dragons, Angels, Demons, etc nor any type of magical human.( We control time, that's pretty op as it is.)
The Time Blades are a very strict and secretive group. Only those they deem skilled and sane enough will be recruited and no one knows they exist. And they do not take kindly to screw-ups in their ranks.
Keep your powers and abilities sensible and not OP.
Have the age/rank ratio of your char make sense. No 18 year old Seekers or the like. But as Time Blades our aging process stops and gives us very long lives.
Your char can even be from another planet or be a transfer from another planet's Time Blade group.
2 chars allowed for each player.
In the Other Section of the sheet write a good two paragraph in character scene show casing your char's skill and your writing skill.

*I maintain the right to add, delete, or change anything at any time. *

**MarchingThunder** · 10-08-2014, 07:01 PM

Name: Nix Murilegus
Age: 4449
Gender: Female

Appearance: Nix stands at a comfortable five feet seven inches in height and weighs in at one hundred and twenty-one pounds. She has a curvy figure that invites the imagination as her measurements are 34D-23-35. Her body is well toned, with well defined muscles that are smoothed slightly by a small layer of fat. Her skin is a permanent tan, giving her an exotic look as it contrasts sharply with her short, pure white hair and the matching fur of her tail and ears. Her eyes are a vivid, emerald green with slitted, cat-like pupils that narrow and widen depending on the lighting. On both of her cheeks are a trio of faded, dark red whisker marks and her canines are elongated which she occasionally let poke out over her lower lip.

With her age, she cares little about being seen in something suggestive, and as such when she’s not in uniform, she’s most likely to be dressed in her exercise clothes which consist of a pair of charcoal colored bun hungers, a charcoal colored sports bra, and her favorite black and white jacket. She makes an imposing figure in her full uniform and is quite the looker. Additionally, both her modern and traditional armor have extra sections to cover her tail as well as a ridge running along both sides of the helmets to accommodate her ears as well as the full range of movement for them.

Spoiler: Nix Murilegus, Uniform

Spoiler: Nix Murilegus, Excercise Clothes

In Swimwear:

Spoiler: Swimwear

Additionally, Nix has a large crest tattooed on her back across her shoulder blades.

Spoiler: Crest

Race: Nekomata
Rank: Keeper

Racial Skills and Abilities:
~Sharpen Nails - Nix’s nails on both her feet and hands are very sharp and strong, easily capable of cutting flesh.
~Enhanced Senses - With her feline genetics, Nix possesses enhanced eyesight, hearing, sensitivity to smells, and a tremendous ability to balance and maneuver.
~Enhanced Body - Nix’s body is much stronger than one would assume from her appearance, and she is quite capable of surprising feats and moves.
~Acrobatics - Practice and a healthy exercise regime has seen to it that Nix is extremely capable in the way of gymnastics.

Normal Skills and Abilities:
~Weapon Master - With nearly four and a half millennia of life under her belt, Nix has had the type to achieve proficiency if not full on mastery with hundreds of firearms and several hundred melee weapons as well. This experience means that she is never lacking in ability with a weapon, improvised or not.
~Hand-to-Hand Master - As with her weapon skills, Nix has put her prodigious amounts of life to use fully mastering dozens of hand-to-hand combat systems including but not limited to: LINE, aikido, judo, muay thai, boxing, jiu-jitsu, SCARS, sambo, and systema.
~Cellist - Nix hasn’t spent the entirety of her life fighting and has picked up quite a few hobbies along the way, one of which is playing the cello. She is world class player, though she rarely puts her skills on display other than practicing in her room.

Non-Rank Weapons:
~Twin 20mm Hand Cannons - A matching pair of hand cannons that were custom commissioned for her, Nix carries the immensely powerful weapons in holsters on each hip. She only carries limited ammunition so she chooses her shots wisely and more often then not reserves them for heavily armored or distant targets.

Spoiler: Twin 20mm Hand Cannons

Other Gear/ personal effects:
~Exercise clothes
~Ammunition
~Small silver pendant with a ruby
~A very, very, very old cello

Personality: Nix is severe and aloof, rarely voicing her thought if she hasn’t been asked them outside of situations where she is required to take charge. She still cares deeply for those under her command but prefers to see them solve issues on their own without her having to step in. In serious ventures, Nix is well known for being cautious and calculating, always preferring to have some form of trump that she can play if things turn against her. Lastly as a result of her long life, Nix often finds herself quite lonely by choice, choosing to avoid making attachments with people who she knows will disappear in the future.

Background: A long time member of the Time Blades Nix has served with distinction across millennia, earning a reputation as a no-nonsense commander and dangerous fighter. Her past is poorly known as she prefers not to speak of such things, instead focusing on the here and now. She’s been known to expound upon her history more when intoxicated, but what she has told tends to leave more questions than answers.

Other:
Thursday morning came with all its glory and majesty, which for the night shift, was absolutely none. Stifling a yawn from seat atop a skyscraper, a young woman with stark white hair watched the people move about below, going about their daily business without a sliver of an idea of what was going on in the background.

But that was the way it was supposed to be.

If people knew what she and her comrades did, anarchy would be the result, at least the most likely one. Still, standing up from her waiting spot, the woman unzipped the white and black jacket she was wearing before tossing it to one of her nearby comrades, revealing white cat ears that stood straight up and swiveled about before fixing forwards. Stepping down from the ledge and onto the roof of the building, sharp green eyes looked over the other people around her, all dressed in casual clothes as she calmly spoke. “Time to move out, everyone get your gear on and start the operation. Support members, take care of the clean up,” she said, her voice quiet and hard.

Nods answered her as about two thirds of the group broke off to follow her towards a series of crates stacked in one corner while the remaining third prepared themselves to follow along behind them.

Stepping up to the crates first, the white haired neko heaved open the lid of the first one before reaching in and pulling out an elaborate suit of black and green armor. Joined by her fellows, she began to disrobe, heedless of being seen before she donned the armor, a special extension covering and protecting the swaying tail behind her while ridges along the helmet she put on last permitted the movement of her ears.

“Everyone ready?” She asked, her face hidden behind a mirrored gold faceplate as she checked on her comrades.

More nods, as well as a series of green lights across the HUD of her helmet, displaying that everyone was ready to go.

“Move out.”

~~||~~

Ten minutes later, the nekomata had lead her team of soldiers, for they could be nothing else, across the roofs of six more skyscrapers before they reached their destination. With quick hand signals, the group spread out, gathering up on two separate roof access doors, while a smaller group gathered by an impressive skylight. They would only have one opportunity to get it right, so with a countdown of lights across their HUDs, going from red to yellow to green, the teams burst in through the doors, the skylight group remaining motionless as they waited for the signal to intervene.

Ten seconds passed.

Then twenty.

A full minute had passed before the first sign of a response was made, a flurry of gunfire from inside the building providing an ample signal for the team waiting at the skylight to enter, quickly leaping onto the fragile glass and shattering it before dropping to land on the floor below in the middle of a vicious melee.

The two teams from before had reunited in the atrium, pinning a large group of men in black body armor down with fire and attacks from either side of the room. As the defenders looked up at the falling troopers, the nekomata from before, clearly indicated by her armor, leap forwards into the group’s midst, her hands pulling a massive gold and green greatsword from her back with which she bisected the closest man before changing further into the group, her teammates providing cover while others moved forward to join the melee.

The results were...bloody.

By the end of the frantic battle, two dozen men in black armor were dead, their bodies either riddled with holes and cut to bits, With a nod from the nekomata, the group dispersed to continue clearing the building. They had managed to retrieve the artifact that was their goal, but the ones behind it still needed to be taken care of.

**Pheasant** · 10-08-2014, 07:30 PM

Name: Sorrel

Age: 75

Gender: Male

Appearance(pic and description):

Spoiler: Sorrel

Sorrel stands roughly 5’6, with a smooth mocha complexion and a golden wave of hair that falls over the right side of his head, obscuring one eye. Pointed and double pierced ears denote his heritage as a species of elf, but several other features combine together to make identifying his race, identity, or homeland incredibly difficult, not the least of which is his darker complexion which identifies more with Drow than with the more common pale skinned elves of his own time. The first of these confusing features, aside from his intense red eyes, are a set of unusual dark horns that curl roughly a foot around his head and gleam during the setting sun. The tips of these strange and menacing protrusions are tipped with a winding circlet of gold, and despite their heavy appearance outside are actually quite light.

The elves overall body type is full of pleasant looking spry muscle topped with broad shoulders, the kind that comes from years of effort and acrobatic training. His outward dress however often changes between two sets of clothes.

As required by Time Blade regulations, Sorrel spends most of his daily hours wearing their gilded green uniform. Although his horns are somewhat against dress uniform, the matter of his actual race has always been up in the air and they can't exactly be removed. For the most part his superiors let it slide.

On his own time however, Sorrel’s style takes a dramatic shift.

When off duty, or performing undercover duties, Sorrel wears a gorgeous coat of sanguine red, held together with leather straps and adorned with elegant golden designs and linings. The neck of the coat billows out slightly, leaving space for a second higher neck with the inner skin made from the pelt of a Sun Wolf, its fur a slightly darker color than his hair.

Finally, as if all of this expensive trim and gold adorned bits weren’t enough, a strange hovering half-disk of polished bronze floats gently behind the elf, arcing slightly downward as it tails its master.

Race: Humanoid/Elf on record, although his physical appearance makes his actual race difficult to confirm. His Drow heritage was expunged from the record, for fear of rubbing other members of the Blades in his section the wrong way.

Rank: Follower

Racial Skills and Abilities (limit of 4):
Elven Longevity - As a result of his Elven heritage, Sorrel has an extremely long lifespan. This makes him more resilient to the effects of time based magic.
Drow Eyes - Although many elves are blessed with bird like vision, the Drow's more dominant genes appear in Sorrel more than his Elven background. Although Sorrel is unable to see a rabbit at two miles, his Drow vision allows him to see very clearly in near total darkness and shadows.

Normal Skills and Abilities(limit of 5):
Trained Sneak - Years of skulking about have made Sorrel very good at hiding and moving through the dark.
Sureshot - Sorrel has excellent marksmanship with bow and crossbow, although is only average with modern weaponry.
Parkour - Many heists have made the Elf a rooftop acrobat.
Adaptation - Sorrel teeters on the edge of success and failure, and adopts and mimics new tactics and skills from security systems, or people, who manage to best him.

Non-Rank Weapons(Limit of 2):

Spoiler: Longbow

Spoiler: Crossbow

Other Gear/ personal effects: None

Personality: Sorrel maintains the hardiness and professionalism expected of all of the Time Blades personal, although his expertise in infiltration and sneaking have given him a slight attitude and air of confidence.
The elf is a bit of a textbook sociopath, a necessity in order to survive in his dangerous line of expertise. He makes nice with others easily enough, but lacks a strong sense of kinship with the other members of the Time Blades or a stern sense of morality that interferes with his ability to do dirty work behind closed doors. In other lines of work this might be considered dangerous, but for the Time Blades it represents an excellent personality for sometime to have, a man who doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger or follow his orders.

Background: Sorrel was born the progeny of an Elf and a Drow, an unheard of and damnable act on his less technologically developed homeworld. Cast out by both societies, Sorrel grew up caring for himself, utilizing the natural strengths of both of his species in both the light and darkness to become a thief.
At first it was only for stealing what was needed to survive, but as Sorrel began to mature he found that he had a knack for stealing valuables as well as the essentials of survival. Had his homeworld Time Blades organization not taken notice of the Drow Elf, the tall tales already surrounding him might have evolved into legends.
The backwater Time Blade detachment that surrounded his home had little to do with such an undeveloped world, although Sorrel was able to do enough work to take notice, foregoing the more advanced weaponry they sometimes used for the humble simplicity of a bow and crossbow, and the many ways its bolts and arrows could be modified.
Although only new to the order, Sorrel was transferred to another worlds organization of Time Blades in order to bolster their ranks, with a reputation as an effective if not cold Follower behind him.

Other: (The older a Drow gets, the more their Drow Eye evolves and gains unique abilities)

The elf dusted off the black cloth of his beret with a sigh, as he stood in front of the green tint of the Warp Gate that would take him over to his next assignment.

Sorrel had spent most of his life on this world, be that stealing or watching over it. To suddenly be called away on another assignment was...unsettling. Earth's Time Blade corp was supposed to be hardcore. Whatever that meant.

As long as the Elf didn't have to watch his step around the others of his 'species', or completely ignore his Drow instinct to slit their throats, this assignment would probably turn out to be a dream.

Sorrel sighed to himself, glancing back at the base. Noone had come to see him out, that wasn't exactly a surprise. He'd donned the Time Blades Dress Uniform for this transfer, as was regulation. It was...something. Lots of green. Tight in all the wrong places.

He ensured the bow slung across his shoulder was tight, before stepping into the open gate, stomach already churning. The Elf didn't need to lose the only possession he was allowed to take over before the rest of his equipment was transferred to the time stream.

**Setsa** · 10-08-2014, 07:49 PM

Name: Amabelle "Belle"

Age: appears 25 [true age 4869]

Gender: Female

Race: Phoenix
Rank: Defender

Spoiler: Appearance

Racial Skill and Abilities:

-Regeneration: Burning a non flammable fire, down to light red ashes. She will regenerate from those very ashes, true to the legends. Each time she is weak enough to "die" from injury or illness. [Note that when she does regenerate, she is nude. Clothing will burn, armor wont.]

-Phoenix Senses: Sharp ears and eye sight, much like any large bird of prey's.

-Flight of the Bird: Ability to change her from to an actual large phoenix. Her wingspan, size, etc to be estimated the same a Bald Eagle's. Her mind is not altered in this state.

-Enhanced Strength: Ability to carry and/or lift up to one ton, despite her appearance

Normal Skills and Abilities:

-Lifetime of Memories: Self explanatory; she remembers everything since her original birth. Every death, war, mission, world's event she's witness or was apart of etc.

-Intuition: When something doesn't feel or sound right. When she feels that what they're doing is wrong. Or has a hunch to go the other way. This "sixth sense" has saved her and many other hides a number of times. Not always grand, it can also be as simple as finding the right ancient scroll or text, or pressing feeling that someone is not as well as they seem.

-Hand to Hand combat/Martial Arts: Deadly and at times, much better than a silencer or fighting with weapons.

Non-Rank Weapons:

-Claws: Attached securely to her hip when not in use. Can be attached to a specialized chain for reach.

-One pistol: .45 Caliber, black with soft silver etchings masterfully done. What the images or odd writing reads only her and perhaps a few others know.

Other Gear/Personal Effects:

-Ancient scrolls and writings, leather bound journals filled with past events that needed to be recorded; and missions. Fine bottles of few choice alcohols... Elaborate selection of teas, and tea sets. Few artifacts collected through the centuries. All in her room of course.

Personality:
Compassionate to a point and patient are the two things Belle has learned after many centuries that has made her who she is at the present time. Killing is one thing she takes very seriously.... knowing that unlike her, they are gone from the world for good. But as she says " 'tis better to right the wrong than let chaos rule the world." She holds her friends dearly in her heart and can drink with the best of them. When something is troubling her she can usually be found in the meditation area or in the gym. Hopefully not in the ring with some poor guy. She is a scholar by nature.

Bio:
Amabelle is a true phoenix. As a Time Blade for most of her life she takes her work seriously...having known and seen what can happen when one side overpowers the other in the balance of life. Taking her job as a Defender with honor, guarding the Time Sanctum even past her shift when she just had that feeling it wasn't the best time to leave. She was decent friends with one known as Illiandra Olin. Enough that she for the most part trusted her except for that small whisper in the back of her mind to watch her, especially when her routine and demeanor began to change....

It was when the two was on duty at the Time Sanctum together when it all went wrong. When she was forced to fight Illiandra. Having refused to let her voiced intentions be seen through... Now Belle is determined to make sure the traitor pays dearly for her crimes...

Other:

VVVMmph! VVmph Whum...Vmph vmph VMPHH!

Belle was working at the punching bag, well in her rhythm as the wrapped fists hit the bag to her own beat. She had just finished her shift in the Time Sanctum to go straight to a class room to teach about the balance of history to some newer Time Blades still going through their training. The Black Plague in Medieval times counteracting the surge of population and spurring on the advancement in medical knowledge and practice. Was where she ended before assigning each of them to give her another time in history that wasn't discussed. Reminding them they better be prepared to stand up to any questions or discussions.

Her mind was not at rest since earlier that day when she heard another Defender mention something that had those valuable inner alarms set off.

"You know....if personal gain was done using the Time Sanctum. It could still be in the benefit of the world. Ever think about it Belle?" Illiandra asked as she looked at what they protected with eyes of want that shouldn't ever be allowed inside this space.

"To do something especially using this for personal gain is inner corruption. Corruption has no place here." Was her straight forward answer.

"Hmm? Oh yes yes, you're right of course.. It was just a hypothetical thought after all." Yet she wouldn't meet Belle's gaze. Turning back around back to her duty stance to mimic the Phoenix's own.

"Sure...hypothetically it came into your mind from no other influence inner or outer. Just like hypothetically what you spoke of is against our code that you and I both gave our oaths to obey."

Something about her changed...it wasn't right at all. So much so she spoke to Chronos about it once class had ended. Now she was to be on the same shift as her for awhile as a measure of precaution. All of this leading up to her in the training room, she needed to let her subconscious sort this all out before attempting to meditate on the matter for any hints, clues, or something she may had missed while in the moment during such time.

The last time someone spoke of this didn't end well...that bastard... Thinking he could rally one country to him and expand his reach elsewhere..

"Hey Belle! You look like you need to have a good spar in the ring am I right?"

Hearing her name called out, begged her body to give pause. Hands holding the hanging punching bag so it wouldn't twist or swing about. Looking up to a friend of hers that was strapping on a pair of padded gloves.

"You may be right Kuric...in fact that's sounding just about right." A smirk playing on her lips as the woman grabbed her water bottle and towel that were resting nearby. Taking a swig of water to set it down at one of the ring's corners in time to catch a set of gloves tossed at her. "Hey what are friends for if not to be better punching targets from time to time? Just no full force from you I'm not paying for the wall to be repaired again." Laughing while she was securing the gloves on after stepping inside the ring. "Hey it was you that got all red eyed and nearly had me through the ropes before that."

The large man scratched his smooth chin some remembering the mentioned near incident. "So you're right...guess that has us in a tie then. So winner here pays for dinner at "Le' Visras? I'm tired of eating food from the mess hall when we have a suitable restaurant."

Strapping the padded head gear on, slipping her mouth guard in she'd nod.

**Koti~** · 10-08-2014, 08:20 PM

Reserve a seeker spot!

---------------------

Name: Mercer Gar
Age: looks 24 (3400)
Gender: Male

Spoiler: Mercer Gar

Race: Human Wolf Hybrid
Rank: Seeker

Racial Skills:
Wolf blood-- Due to his wolf heritage, Mercer has physical attributes in line with a wolf, in the form of speed, strength, stamina, scent, and endurance

Cold resistance-- In combination with the fur coat, he is heavily resilient to cold weather environments.

Claws-- Mercer has a full set of 2 inch claws on his hands and feet, strong enough to puncture Kevlar and stone.

Instinctual hunter-- As he is part wolf, Mercer has learned to rely on his instincts in close combat.

Normal skills:

Gun Smith-- Mercer has followed and learned about as many possible guns over a course of 250 years, finding them highly enjoyable and oddly relaxing. He has become an expert at maintaining, repairing, modifying, and restoring most known types of fire arms.

Mountain climber-- With his time in the army, Mercer has learned how to climb with little to no harnessing, using his claws and skills to climb cliff faces and buildings.

Marksmen-- Mercer has trained and learned how to fire long range and scoped weapons with high accuracy.

Expert swordsman-- Due just to years of practice, Mercer has become highly skilled with a blade, his preferred being a dagger or short bladed weapon.

Non Rank Weapons:

Spoiler: Marx9 Rail Gun sniper Rifle AKA Big Red

A pair of curved bladed daggers, 14 inches in length and designed to be held with the blade pointed down. While able to be held upright, the dagger was designed for guarding and finishing blows, in conjunction with hand to hand combat.

Other Gear/ Personal effects:

A simple rope necklace with a bear tooth and wolf tooth, once used to prove his coming of age in his clan.

Personality: Mercer is a strange person, both a mix of the perfect soldier, while the worst. He is a loyal soldier, a strong and sturdy worker. He follows orders and looks for all ways to take down as more people as possible to keep his fellow soldiers alive. He is level headed and cold, keeping himself distant and aloft of emotions. He will happily give a reality check to those who need it, and support those who have earned it.

While off the field, Mercer is everyones best friend. He is more than willing to spare a few words, and a person to lean on when his friends are in trouble. He can share a drink with the best of them, and drink plenty of others under the table.

Bio: Born to a nomadic tribe, Mercer was part of a warring group of homo lupus. Back then they relied on instinct and strength in numbers. Mercer back then thought himself the best of the best, having been the youngest to become a warrior in the group. He led a for-running group of the pack, scouting out the lands before for the rest of the tribe. He had very little care for his people back then, feeling that they dragged him down.

On one scouting mission near a small village, his group was set upon by a rival tribe, beset by arrows and blades. His group was cut down quickly, losing all but two men before being taken down, his shoulder having been punctured by an arrow. His tribe won that fight, but several were wounded, and he himself was to blame, several saying his cockiness had been the cause of their loss. He was left there to fend for himself, stating that if he wanted to run on his own, they would happily oblige him.

Mercer tried to survive the longest as he could, but with the large wounds and damaged shoulder, he barely lasted more than a week, before being dragged and healed by the people of a nearby small village. They took him in, trading him food, housing, and medicine in return for protection. He agreed, patrolling his village and keeping the place protected while slowly growing close to the people of the village, finally understanding why his tribe left him.

Eventually, he was recruited by the time blades, finding his skill and strength to be a great asset and he would make a fine soldier.

Other: Slipping on a protective pair of earmuffs, Mercer unrolled the cloth wrapping around the weapons. He looked them over, a 9mm pistol, a pump action shotgun, oddly enough a musket, and his own personal Marx9. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he laid out different tools, a can of oil, and a clip for each gun.

Picking up the pistol first, he began a simple maintenance, from testing the springs on the magazine release, the glide when pulling back the slide, and the tension in the hammer, making sure it was in fine working order. Locking a clip in place, he cocked back the slide and raised up the weapon, checking the sight while aiming down the target range.

"Range hot!" He shouted into the air, his voice muffled to himself as he depressed the trigger, feeling the familiar kick of the weapon as he fired down the range, rapidly unloading the entire clip into the target. He pressed the clip release and grabbed the magazine before hitting, grabbing a spare bullet and loading the chamber by hand, firing off one last bullet with a pleased smile.

He continued with the maintenance for each weapon, adjusting the sights and doing basic body work on the weapons, unloading on the targets and keeping the target sheets for his own score. With a thankful nod, he put down the shot gun and cleaned off the weapons, making sure that each shined and held no leftover GSR.

Finished with the others, he picked up his own weapon and moved back, puling out a round of his own standard bullet. Loading the clip into the weapon, he flipped up and pulled the lever back, loading the chamber before ratcheting the chamber close. Flicking the switch on the side, he listened to the hum of his weapon, watching the energy arc along the barrel.

"Range Hot! Rail loaded!" Mercer shouted into the room, a red light filling as a secondary wall appeared up along the range. He looked down the sight, smiling as he found the pockmarks of his previous shots. As the charge hit the crescendo of it's power, he pulled back the trigger, feeling as the bullet fired out with a loud crack, slamming into the wall and watching flaks of metal fall onto the ground.

"Still good as new."

**SikstaSlathalin** · 10-08-2014, 08:21 PM

You got it lass and lad and lass and lad.

Name: Calabar
Age: 5,500
Gender:Male

Appearance(pic and description):

Spoiler: Calabar

Race: Gargoyle
Rank: Chronos

Racial Skills and Abilities (limit of 4)

Enhance Physical prowess: Calabar is as strong and fast as a full grown male Kodiak Bear and has a prehensile strong tail.

Flight: His wings provide him with the ability to fly up to speeds equal to a Peregrine Falcon.

Keen senses: Calabar has very keen eyes, ears, and nose.

Claws: He has strong tigerlike claws.

Normal Skills and Abilities(limit of 5):

Many life time of experience: Calabar has been around since before the Romans, he has been for over five millenia. He knows much, has seen it all, and done everything that could be done.

Marksmen: While guns are fairly new to him, he has exceptional skill at using shotguns which he prefers to rifles.

Fighter: Master of the fighting styles of Judo, Karate, American Boxing and Kickboxing.

Intelligence: Calabar is an intelligent and tactful leader. While not a genius he's no dummy.

Time Magic Mastery: Being the Chronos gives Calabar the most highly developed mastery of Chornomancy.

Non-Rank Weapons(Limit of 2):

Spoiler: Automatic shotgun

Spoiler: Tactical Tomahawk

Other Gear/ personal effects: Calabar is a minimalistic individual, his personal effects and clothing are simple and more practical over ornate. Most of his clothing looks like he stole it from a samurai. And his personal effects are limited to a book of his clan's lineage, and a collections of his primary weapons through his long life. Stone Axes from his life as a guardian to Melekor the Wizard, a Roman Gladius, Japanese Katana, German Messer Longsword the list goes on.

Personality: Honorable and cryptic, Calabar is the living embodiment of the Binding Oath. The Time Blades are his whole life and he's dedicated more than half of it to them. He's a hard-ass when it comes to obeying the rules but when off duty he can be relaxed.

Spoiler: Background

Born many years ago, the first half of Calabar's life was spent as all gargoyles spend them guarding the battlements of ancient keeps owned by Kings and Wizards protecting by night sleeping by day. It was a simple but empowering existence, he loved being able to fight along side those in his clan and defending their surprisingly kind master.

The man was an ageless wizard and ruled over those in his land with a just and benevolent hand, which was unheard of in those mystic times especially for a Storm Wizard. The Wizard's power was mighty and he was known across many shores, but even with or maybe beacuse of these legends his clan has fought off many invaders. Tribals, Sea Raiders, greedy Barons, even another Wizard looking to take over Melekor's lands.

One day on a fine morning though something was wrong, it was dawn but his clan wasn't turning to stone as they usually did, this wasn't right. The Wizard arrived on their battlements in his full Rune infused Battle Mage armor. No words were needed, the Wizard had broken their nightly cycle because he needed the Gargoyles' help in the light of day. And the reason was soon found out, on the dawn-lit horizon an army of thousands marched into view led by a wizard in black robes. He was at the head of an army of undead rotting corpses armed with brutal primitive weapons.
The Storm Wizard only had a couple hundred Men-at-arms, a few thousand Militia Peasants, and a group of two hundred Gargoyles, not exactly a thundering army. But they would fight to the last of them. And they did, for days they fought the invaders not losing ground but not gaining any. The last day though it all changed, never once losing his cool the Necromancer watched the last of his own defenders fall alongside Melekor's people. The gargoyles still lived though and it looked as though they would win the battle, but with a wave of his hand the Black Wizard cast one last spell and rose his own warriors from the dead as well as the Gray Wizard's.

Then the numbers were too uneven and the Gargoyles began dying under the sheer number of those fighting them. By the 11th hour of the last day, only Calabar and Melekor were left, holed up in the Wizard's throne room they healed what wounds they could and waited for the end. Calabar was still young and the wizard didn't wish to see another one so young die. Just as the undead horde broke the door down Melekor sent he wounded Gargoyle away with a quick teleportation spell. The Gargoyle found himself miles away from Melekor's Keep and unable to get back in time to save the Wizard. With nothing else to do Calabar wandered the land, somehow the wizard's spell still in effect. He slept like a normal creature did when he was tired. Joining whatever battle came his way Calabar fought on the dark side of every major battle right up to the time of the Romans where the next big event of his life happened.

Unbeknownst to the warrior he was about the save the life of the Chronos of the Time Blades. He was at the head of the column of fellow Legionnaires facing down some Werewolves. It promised to be a bloody battle, but the soldiers would win against the Barbarians. Their blades clashed and sparks flew from the contact, there were no words, no battle cries. Just snarls and gnashing teeth, it was bloody and wild, Calabar had long ago lost his fear of death, Gargoyles were long lived to begin with and he's been a warrior for longer than most human empires have existed. Death would be a great adventure for him, it seems though it was not meant to be. As he slew his tenth Werewolf a thickly built human man went down in front of him blind-sided by a Were's claw mace. By rights the man should've been killed, but he wasn't his glistening green glass helmet was dented sure. but he was alive.

Something told him this wasn't your average human whelp, lunging forward Calabar slashed the Were's head cutting an ear clean off before the sharp blade bit into the beast's skull felling it. With the problem dealt with he went to the man's side and saw a small green scythe pendent under a bit of pierced armor. Seeing the confusion the man simply smiled and rolled to his feet.

He spoke in a deep accented voice that placed him somewhere in the mountains of Briton.
"Survive this lad, an' Ah'll answer all yer questions." With that he drew the long claymore from his back and dove back into the Werewolves. Calabar promised and survived the attack seeking the man out and received a green glass and iron dagger as his explanation before with a strange kind of magic they were both transported deep into a mountain filled with green armored warriors, green glass weapons, and the greatest secret in existence. The Time Blades. Calabar joined without hesitation seeing a chance to get back to his roots as a protector. The centuries rolled on and soon the young Gargoyle became the hardened master of the elite group, being personally chosen to be Chornos Enslyer's protegee.

Spoiler: Other

Walking the sleek winding corridors of HQ, Calabar tried to remember the name of every face he saw step aside respectively or full on run down another hallway to avoid the ancient Gargoyle's fierce visage. He couldn't help but look fierce, he was a creature born to ward off evil and scary scare evil it seems. He only remembered a fraction of this names. So many new faces, so many familiar ones having left this plane of existence. Death wasn't uncommon in the Time Blade ranks, they fought evil on every battlefield and in every time in existence. It took a lot to bring a Blade down, but when it did a ripple went through the stream of time and through the hearts of nearly every solider here. They were a small group by comparisons to other armies and that closeness grew with every century they outlived those they once knew and loved.

It was cruel at times, they were the protectors of Time and Space, but they couldn't ever see their families or friends again once they join the group. A duty of the utmost importance, but a life of profound loneliness. They only have each other for the rest of their ageless lives, friendship and love was allowed in fact it was encouraged. Children born from such unions were raised and given the choice to stay on as a Follower or leave the Base once they reached adulthood. Then their minds would be wiped clean of the group and they would be sent to live on the surface. Raised by whatever race they sprang from and left ignorant of their origins. It softened the isolationism some, but nothing like a true blood family would.
It couldn't be helped though, so was their way of life, most are given the choice upon being recruited to join or reject the proposal. If they refuse their minds are wiped or all interaction with their recruiter and sent back to their short lives.

Shaking these depressing thoughts from his mind the Chornos made his way to the firing range unslinging his combat shotgun he nodded to the Seeker on Range Safety Duty and loaded the prepared drum of ammo into his impressive weapon. Pushing his green safety glasses up his nose and patting the red earmuffs down he pushed the little blue button sounding an alarm that his lane was hot. Taking a few quick breaths he eyed down the sights and waited for his first target. Being a shotgun, the range wasn't impressively long just 75 yards. But the damage and accuracy Calabar was capable of with this weapon made that something of a moot point. His first target at 25 Left was obliterated before it even came fully up over the bunker, it was followed almost immediately by the 25 Right which to was blasted apart.

Next came up the 75 Center which followed a similar fate only it's torso was peppered with the lethal pellets. His next two victims was the 50 Left and Center he felled them both with one shot. 25 Right and 75 Left followed suit, he popped them both and continued this display until his whole 100 round drum was empty and his gun was smoking slightly. He'd done this before and just as his last round was fired a target jumped up at 2 yards and he hurled the tomahawk on his belt planting it firmly in the head of the target. Removing the ear muffs the old Gargoyle was greet with cheers and applause by the small audeince he had gathered. With a smile he pulled the drum out and placed it on his booth's counter before bowing to them all.
"Thank you all, glad to know my eyes and reflexes haven't dimmed any."

**Dire Hoef** · 10-08-2014, 10:54 PM

. . . . . . ?

**Vanity&Ecstasy** · 10-08-2014, 10:58 PM

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