- Joined
- Aug 4, 2005
- Messages
- 3,041
- Age
- 32
- Location
- In the place of prayer...
- Website
- www.facebook.com
Candles flickered in the darkness, sending rippling shadows dancing along the stone walls. It was quiet, except for the dull crackle of burning incense. The tendrils of smoke seemed to drift along the air, like ghostly serpents weaving their way in and out of existence. The golden candles glimmered, alone on the altar, isolated in their beauty, while the darkness swallowed everything else. The large room, usually lit with brilliant light, was like a tomb; restrained and silent, as if it were afraid of producing anything louder than a whisper. The large stained glass windows were dark, the colors embalmed in ebony, and to any stranger, they looked like simple panes of black ice. It was cold in the Church...
Thud
There was a wooden slam as the doors of the cathedral swung open with a muffled thud. For a moment, the noises of the outside world poured it. Sirens whirred, a few shouts spilled into the darkness. There was a loud gunshot, and the screech of tires on pavement. A single scream and a faded crack of a body hitting cement. The whirr of a helicopter overhead somewhere. However, the door swung shut again, and the noises vanishing, as if snuffed out of existence.
As it creaked shut, there was a set of echoing footsteps, one after the other, mockingly reverberating around the old stone church. The wooden pews seemed to withdraw into the shadows as a single dark figure stepped into the center aisle. He was tall, but slightly hunched over, as if an invisible weight was pressing down on his back. He stepped forward with slow, deliberate footsteps, a faded red carpet muffling his footsteps as he approached the alter. The golden candle-light cast shadows along his dark black robes, and the white glint of a priest's collar was revealed as he slowly approached the great stone altar. He gently knelt, dropping to one knee as the dim candle light managed to throw sharp relief over his dull grey features. His hair was graying, fading into dull white; like a cloud on an overcast day. His face was slightly wrinkled, and it was clear that the once young, vibrantly handsome face, was facing the wear and tear of time. The gray eyes were slightly speckled, and where once, vigor had shone, they now had a worn glaze, the only spark lying in the reflections of the golden candle-light.
"Father..." When Ian Oda spoke, his voice was worn and tired, not unlike a man who was slowing down, in the midst of a long marathon. "Please... your servant has been faithful, and yet, my hand grows weary of the plow... please give me a sign in these apocalyptic times... what does it all mean? Where are you in this darkness?"
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There's my opening post. This is an open challenge to anybody; standard rules, Power Battle (but lets not go overboard). I'll include my template below in a moment; note that his abilities are not stated explicitly. They will become clear as the battle goes on. Do not worry, I have a clear idea of what they are, and will not abuse this fact. I just want to use the battle to develop his character without spoiling anything.
Name
Ian Oda
Gender
Male
Age
48
Race
Human
Personality
Ian is a man who has reached the middle of a long, and tiring life. He is worn, having been fighting the good fight for as long as he can remember. He is a man of great faith and great doubt, loyal to God, but suffering from the weight of the world around him. He is a reserved man, quietly calm for the most part, but occasionally, a spark of youthful vigor will strike him again. He has recently taken up drinking.
Appearance
Slightly shy of 6'3" Ian bears the appearance of one slightly past his prime. He is tall, yet slightly hunched over, as if weighed down by something unseen. He is slightly gray haired, and his speckled gray eyes hold a constantly worn look. His face, while once handsome and youthful, has a slightly wrinkled look, and his lips as often twisted into a sigh. He is still tall, and when inspired, can strike quite the powerful figure. However, that light has faded and comes far less often. He is usually seen in his black priest's robes, with matching white collar.
History
Ian lives in the late 2020's. Global warming and the world financial crisis, as well as various energy crisises have lead to worldwide collapse. Ian was inducted into priesthood shortly before the collapse of the USA. As the great country vainly attempts to hold itself together, Ian has found it harder and harder to keep himself together.
Yet his journey is far from over...
Gift
Vessel...
Ian has noticed that sometimes, in the most dire of situations, strange things happen...
There was a crack of a gun, and he felt the world spin as he hit the ground... blood gushed....
Tongues of fire leaped at his skin as he raced through the alleyway, coughing, baby clutched in hand as the fire swam around him...
Thud
There was a wooden slam as the doors of the cathedral swung open with a muffled thud. For a moment, the noises of the outside world poured it. Sirens whirred, a few shouts spilled into the darkness. There was a loud gunshot, and the screech of tires on pavement. A single scream and a faded crack of a body hitting cement. The whirr of a helicopter overhead somewhere. However, the door swung shut again, and the noises vanishing, as if snuffed out of existence.
As it creaked shut, there was a set of echoing footsteps, one after the other, mockingly reverberating around the old stone church. The wooden pews seemed to withdraw into the shadows as a single dark figure stepped into the center aisle. He was tall, but slightly hunched over, as if an invisible weight was pressing down on his back. He stepped forward with slow, deliberate footsteps, a faded red carpet muffling his footsteps as he approached the alter. The golden candle-light cast shadows along his dark black robes, and the white glint of a priest's collar was revealed as he slowly approached the great stone altar. He gently knelt, dropping to one knee as the dim candle light managed to throw sharp relief over his dull grey features. His hair was graying, fading into dull white; like a cloud on an overcast day. His face was slightly wrinkled, and it was clear that the once young, vibrantly handsome face, was facing the wear and tear of time. The gray eyes were slightly speckled, and where once, vigor had shone, they now had a worn glaze, the only spark lying in the reflections of the golden candle-light.
"Father..." When Ian Oda spoke, his voice was worn and tired, not unlike a man who was slowing down, in the midst of a long marathon. "Please... your servant has been faithful, and yet, my hand grows weary of the plow... please give me a sign in these apocalyptic times... what does it all mean? Where are you in this darkness?"
---------------------------------------------------
There's my opening post. This is an open challenge to anybody; standard rules, Power Battle (but lets not go overboard). I'll include my template below in a moment; note that his abilities are not stated explicitly. They will become clear as the battle goes on. Do not worry, I have a clear idea of what they are, and will not abuse this fact. I just want to use the battle to develop his character without spoiling anything.
Name
Ian Oda
Gender
Male
Age
48
Race
Human
Personality
Ian is a man who has reached the middle of a long, and tiring life. He is worn, having been fighting the good fight for as long as he can remember. He is a man of great faith and great doubt, loyal to God, but suffering from the weight of the world around him. He is a reserved man, quietly calm for the most part, but occasionally, a spark of youthful vigor will strike him again. He has recently taken up drinking.
Appearance
Slightly shy of 6'3" Ian bears the appearance of one slightly past his prime. He is tall, yet slightly hunched over, as if weighed down by something unseen. He is slightly gray haired, and his speckled gray eyes hold a constantly worn look. His face, while once handsome and youthful, has a slightly wrinkled look, and his lips as often twisted into a sigh. He is still tall, and when inspired, can strike quite the powerful figure. However, that light has faded and comes far less often. He is usually seen in his black priest's robes, with matching white collar.
History
Ian lives in the late 2020's. Global warming and the world financial crisis, as well as various energy crisises have lead to worldwide collapse. Ian was inducted into priesthood shortly before the collapse of the USA. As the great country vainly attempts to hold itself together, Ian has found it harder and harder to keep himself together.
Yet his journey is far from over...
Gift
Vessel...
Ian has noticed that sometimes, in the most dire of situations, strange things happen...
Open....
There was a crack of a gun, and he felt the world spin as he hit the ground... blood gushed....
Third...
Tongues of fire leaped at his skin as he raced through the alleyway, coughing, baby clutched in hand as the fire swam around him...
Coming...
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