Home
the grians of sand were infinite as it looked. They went on forever and ever, beyond the horizon and even beyond the glaring blaze of the midday July sun. The city of Cairo was an amazing place this time of year. Warm, dry some, reminding Giovanni of home. The platinum locks of the male simply deflected the rays of sun from his head, giving him not so much of the heat. One of the main reasons he had the hair. He loved this type of weather. The warm, almost hot climate, reminded him of Wickerola.
Wickerola, the Dragon Master paradise of which Giovanni had been born to over 3,000 years ago. Last he checked, he was precisely 3,525, and still young. The age his father died at two years ago, was 12,500. And to think that was maybe middle age. Yes, Giovanni hoped to have a lot more years to add to his living schedule, lest he be sent directly to the wickerolan death/nightmare realm of Cato Mispherio. He needn't be reminded of the stories his father had told him and his twin Dragonamore of the infinite black to await them. The cold creep of death surrounding them and eventually swallowing them in a whirling vortex of madness and melancholy. The abyss of hopelessness was supposed to be inescapable, and he hoped not to test the theory anytime soon.
For miles off, Giovanni could spot nothing right now but sand. Not a gods damned thing but sand. This shit was amazing. The grains beneath his feet were prime, and hot beneath his touch as he bent down to take a handful of the grains in his slightly calloused grasp. The warmth of them was inviting, soothing to his dragonic heart and touch. A flash of sapphire and his hand had flickered with marble skin. The odd color of the skin was further brought out by an even odder assortment of midnight black shaded scales.
From another person's perspective, these would've been seen only if they were in front of him, but they would've also seen a gentle sapphire glow from his arms as well. This was what his old comrade, Dante, had passed to him. Somethign he called a "Devil Trigger." Some sort of form like a demon of things for a human. What the hell that meant back then, Giovanni hadn't known. But now, he knew well what it meant, as he had a few encounters with this form. The constant shifts of forms when he was very badly hurt, and couldn't manage to get back up from the floor using his own energy or powers or whatever. Giovanni had been blessed with a dragonic shift of form originally by his father. But this Devil Trigger had blended with it to add an odd shade to his arms. He now had the scales and powers, with horns to match protruding from his forehead.
With the second gone now, the form returned to that of a human normality. Deeply tanned pigments dominaed his entire surface, with emerald eyes which showed intelligence from ages past. The shoulder length platinum mentioned before were what made him different from his friend Dante. He had been known for his white hair. "The Platinum Blur.... That was some surely funny shit..." Giovanni had whispered into the air. Certainly an old nickname or title he had been endowed with as a youngster. Standing at a height of 6'4, the male had to be completely out of his wits to think he was a blur in any way shape or fashion, especially with the muscular tone that showed around him. This guy was built like a fucking linebacker, and he thought himself to be fast? That was almost synonymous to relating a turtle to be capable of mach speed on its own.
The sword upon his left hip clanked as he rose from his kneel. The black oak sheath which protected the sword, or more appropriately the people, from harm glistened with some sort of sparkles upon it. Polished oak, apparently with fibers to cast a reflective surface. This was the sheath of the blade Ayana. Giovanni's trusted 3' long kotetsu, which meant is fed off of the powers of souls. With a draining effect upon the user, it was a nuisance to wield sometimes unless in a battle. All whom touched this weapon was doomed to feed the blade's hunger. It was a ravenous beast of sorts, with an insatiable appetite for the darkest of souls. Giovanni had received the blade about 1,800 years back from an ancient temple in Wickerola. This was the prized possession of the culture apparently, and quite the wondrous boounty. One of a kind, never to be copied in the least.
Giovanni simply stood where he was and looked up to the blue skies looming over the desert, smirking.
Rules:
1. Devil Trigger will not be emplimented all the way right now. It must be earned through dramatic sequences.
2. When in devil trigger, you only have a max of three jewels to use, and each jewel will have effect for a post(Your post) unless shut down.
3. No full blown plot just yet. So, if you wanna start something in this, we can all try to associate in it.
4. Nix called Nero already, so you can choose to be an original DMC character, or make up one of your own.
5. No noobish two sentences. I just wanna put this to be sure.
6. Have fun. n.n I know I will be.
(Jump in when you wish.)
Wickerola, the Dragon Master paradise of which Giovanni had been born to over 3,000 years ago. Last he checked, he was precisely 3,525, and still young. The age his father died at two years ago, was 12,500. And to think that was maybe middle age. Yes, Giovanni hoped to have a lot more years to add to his living schedule, lest he be sent directly to the wickerolan death/nightmare realm of Cato Mispherio. He needn't be reminded of the stories his father had told him and his twin Dragonamore of the infinite black to await them. The cold creep of death surrounding them and eventually swallowing them in a whirling vortex of madness and melancholy. The abyss of hopelessness was supposed to be inescapable, and he hoped not to test the theory anytime soon.
For miles off, Giovanni could spot nothing right now but sand. Not a gods damned thing but sand. This shit was amazing. The grains beneath his feet were prime, and hot beneath his touch as he bent down to take a handful of the grains in his slightly calloused grasp. The warmth of them was inviting, soothing to his dragonic heart and touch. A flash of sapphire and his hand had flickered with marble skin. The odd color of the skin was further brought out by an even odder assortment of midnight black shaded scales.
From another person's perspective, these would've been seen only if they were in front of him, but they would've also seen a gentle sapphire glow from his arms as well. This was what his old comrade, Dante, had passed to him. Somethign he called a "Devil Trigger." Some sort of form like a demon of things for a human. What the hell that meant back then, Giovanni hadn't known. But now, he knew well what it meant, as he had a few encounters with this form. The constant shifts of forms when he was very badly hurt, and couldn't manage to get back up from the floor using his own energy or powers or whatever. Giovanni had been blessed with a dragonic shift of form originally by his father. But this Devil Trigger had blended with it to add an odd shade to his arms. He now had the scales and powers, with horns to match protruding from his forehead.
With the second gone now, the form returned to that of a human normality. Deeply tanned pigments dominaed his entire surface, with emerald eyes which showed intelligence from ages past. The shoulder length platinum mentioned before were what made him different from his friend Dante. He had been known for his white hair. "The Platinum Blur.... That was some surely funny shit..." Giovanni had whispered into the air. Certainly an old nickname or title he had been endowed with as a youngster. Standing at a height of 6'4, the male had to be completely out of his wits to think he was a blur in any way shape or fashion, especially with the muscular tone that showed around him. This guy was built like a fucking linebacker, and he thought himself to be fast? That was almost synonymous to relating a turtle to be capable of mach speed on its own.
The sword upon his left hip clanked as he rose from his kneel. The black oak sheath which protected the sword, or more appropriately the people, from harm glistened with some sort of sparkles upon it. Polished oak, apparently with fibers to cast a reflective surface. This was the sheath of the blade Ayana. Giovanni's trusted 3' long kotetsu, which meant is fed off of the powers of souls. With a draining effect upon the user, it was a nuisance to wield sometimes unless in a battle. All whom touched this weapon was doomed to feed the blade's hunger. It was a ravenous beast of sorts, with an insatiable appetite for the darkest of souls. Giovanni had received the blade about 1,800 years back from an ancient temple in Wickerola. This was the prized possession of the culture apparently, and quite the wondrous boounty. One of a kind, never to be copied in the least.
Giovanni simply stood where he was and looked up to the blue skies looming over the desert, smirking.
Rules:
1. Devil Trigger will not be emplimented all the way right now. It must be earned through dramatic sequences.
2. When in devil trigger, you only have a max of three jewels to use, and each jewel will have effect for a post(Your post) unless shut down.
3. No full blown plot just yet. So, if you wanna start something in this, we can all try to associate in it.
4. Nix called Nero already, so you can choose to be an original DMC character, or make up one of your own.
5. No noobish two sentences. I just wanna put this to be sure.
6. Have fun. n.n I know I will be.
(Jump in when you wish.)
