[u]The new god in town[/u] [i]A throne world of xerox's own making, willed into existence by her[/i] [b]Xerox walks up the stairs of her palace, it was filled with hive that were loyal to her. She grins as she flexes her new powers, creating rifts in the fabric of reality that shows various things, ranging from the battles on the dreadnaught to the city. She reaches her throne, the ruby throne. She sits on it while overlooking her kingdom, she had worked hard to make a better life for herself, and this is what happened. She was now just as strong as crota, her powers growing. Ruptures were being built in secret locations all over earth, only those that have proved themselves to be trustworthy were told about it. She begins to wait for her allies to show up, those that have stayed by her side throughout everything[/b] [spoiler]open to those that know xerox and are friends with her[/spoiler]

To be or not to be

Ah yes, the group who hates my guts.

"yay Im living Destiny" bungie- "heres a mortar and pestal and a dimond, get to grinding, it will never end"

Choogetolopeto walked in the cosmodrome He tripped. OPEN

[b]RNGesus comes down and grants everyone Gjallorhorns, Sleeper Simulents, and Touch of Malices. The end.[/b]

Role play eh? (Clears throat) "I take out my penis, and slap you in the face with it."

Serena sat in the bar at the Tower. She wasn't doing anything particular, just relaxing.

Bl

[spoiler]First RP regarding Destiny. Don't be too harsh, criticism is welcome though. Just don't be an ass about it. Character is Vyliks. Put him up in the character thread just a bit ago.[/spoiler] [b]Old Russia, Earth[/b] A crashed skiff sat inside of a small, rusted, and rectangular building. The crash trajectory of the vehicle was obvious enough; a large gaping hole in the side of the building. Strangely enough, this opening was covered by a large, red, square section of fabric, that swayed in the cool winds of Old Russia. The crash wasn't a recent happening, by the looks of the skiff. In fact, it had been there quite a while. The hull was scarred, but cleaned. Shrapnel from the vehicle had been replaced to its proper location. Small cylindrical yellow lights were hung on black wires from hooks on the side of the vehicle, illuminating the otherwise darkened and shadowy building. The walls and edges of the building were also lined with shelves, many covered in equipment hooks, various standard tools such as wrenches, and scrap metal chunks. Suddenly, a metal grinding emanated from the cockpit of the skiff, and a bluish light filtered out from the top. The pilot access hatch had been opened from the inside. Two hands grasped the edges and pulled themselves upwards, revealing a Fallen figure: Vyliks. He swung himself over the edge of the cockpit, dropping down to the side of the vehicle, grunting lowly as his feet collided with the ground. He strode over towards the cloth covering the hole in the building, one of his four arms out stretching to grasp the edge, another reaching to ready the shock pistol on his side. Vyliks pulled aside the fabric, gazing out into Old Russia. [spoiler]Open to anyone who wishes.[/spoiler]

I took a dump an clogged the toilet what do you do? A unclog it B leave it

Dew stains the once mirror-like windows of the city humanity once called Seattle. It had been magnificent once. A leader in ideals, modern medicine, and social advancement. In humanity's Golden Age, it had grown into an immense metropolis, gathering much of the north western continent into its folds. It had flourished. Then came the Darkness. And with it the Fall. Pure hell had unleashed itself upon everything man had ever held dear. The Warminds, born from the genius of humanity to protect the cradle of their civilization, went to war with the oncoming night. What followed was beyond imagination. The energy of Sol was forged into beams that lit up space as they brought death to the galactic intruder, immense gravitational anomalies smote mankind's foe, and nuclear fire blazed through the void. The end had come, but humanity did not go quietly into the night. The Darkness came, and weapons beyond measure were unleashed into its very teeth. One by one, the great Warminds died or vanished, and Earth weakened. Death came to claim it, clutching at the beating heart of its children before a great sacrifice stayed its hand. Humanity lived, and the Darkness was forced back. It lurked, awaiting its chance to strike again. It was not the only thing waiting to attack however. The Eliksni, now Fallen, had tracked their Great Machine across the reaches of space to a blue world, one so recently bathed in destruction. They found it wounded. Desperate to reclaim it and return glory to their people, the Eliksni fell upon the already brutalized world. War came again to the Earth, and this time the Warminds were not there to defend it. The Fallen, however, blessed humanity by containing a flaw within itself that would save mankind. The Eliksni, devoid of their Great Machine, would always be their own worst enemy. The Houses had turned on each other and cooperation soon became manipulation at the hand of the Kings. When the Great Machine delivered yet another blessing unto humanity - great, undying warriors - the remnants of the alliance between the Houses crumbled, and the dream of bringing back greatness to the Eliksni people soured into a nightmare. Trapped in the solar system, their desperate gamble stalled against mankind's last bastion of defense, the Eliksni stagnated. Now, untold years later, they pick through Earth's ruins, like starving vultures on a fly-ridden carcass, their greedy eyes watching the Last City horde the Great Machine to itself. Some, however, aren't even that lucky. Within the Cosmodrome, a Fallen can see the milky white sphere of the god-like Machine. Not all of the Fallen were in mankind's Russia, though, Rathiks broods, his helmeted chin on one of his primary fists. He sits upon what he's come to think of as his throne, aboard what's left of a Devil Baron's ketch. The Baron himself is long dead, the result of a human Guardian's command over the powers of the Great Machine. It's just as well, he reflects. He never liked Baron Navoriss in the first place. The great ketch sits dead in the long-flooded streets of Seattle. The sea-walls had failed during one of the great disasters to befall Earth. Now one was lucky to find a dry patch. Most places were ankle deep, but Seattle, a city ( if it could still be called that ) of hills, lent itself to a variety of depths and places that were convenient for a Dreg to drown on a scavenging run. Rathiks snorts harshly into his rebreather. He's been losing more Dregs than usual lately. Even some Vandals have died. The entrances and exits of the tides, however, has done a remarkable job of removing any evidence of foul play, he concludes irritably. There's no way to tell if his Dregs have merely drowned searching for components to make the Ketch air worthy again, or if a more sinister force is at work, such as the Hive of a group of Guardians. He thrusts himself out of his chair angrily, causing several nearby Vandals who are manning consoles to give him quick, uneasy glances. He ignores them, but their looks are enough to reel in his need to pace. He clasps both sets of hands behind his cloaked back and takes a deep breath in through his face mask. His living resources were dwindling with each death, drowning or otherwise, but he's awash with what the humans call 'Shanks.' He lets himself savor the term as it floats through his head. It's a fitting name for a machine designed to kill with such an undignified touch. By merely stationing one close enough by to observe, but far enough away not to be a target, he would be able to find out what was happening to his Dregs. Soon the Devil Captain will know just what's causing the death of his crew. He speaks in a guttural growl to a nearby Vandal to convey his orders, and a small fleet of Shanks is dispatched to observe salvage parties through out Seattle, and the tragedies about to befall them... (( Open. ))

[b]Sibling Rivalry[/b] Vergil stood at the center of the Vex citadel on Venus. His father's journal in one hand, and the heart of Willbreaker in the other. The crystal was not filled with void light, however, but with something else... Something much darker. As he re-aligned the crystal into his sword, he heard the familiar click of one of Dante's sidearms being chambered. Dante was holding the gun to the back of his brother's head. "Some brother you are... You take my stuff, then leave me hanging, impaled through the chest." "Why are you here, Dante?" "I want. What's mine." "The journal?..." Vergil carelessly tossed it over his shoulder. Letting Dante catch it, he looked down at his new blade. "... I have no further use for it." Dante carefully tucked the old book into his robe. He looked at his brother. "You still blame me, don't you? For what it's worth... I'm sorry." "I don't want your apology...." In a blur of motion, Dante found himself impaled on the end of a blade yet again. "I want retribution." (Open. This will eventually lead to the Darkness overtaking Dante, as well as a little peak into the backstory that I don't feel like explaining.)

1738!!!! Yeahhhhhh Baby

[b]Taken's Touch - The Final Step[/b] [i]To wield the sword, you need to trust the sword. To trust the sword, you need to wield it. Flow with the combat, don't let your enemies get the better of you. Pay attention. Learn their movements. Predict. Prevail. Win. -Techus, House of Science[/i] The skiff landed in the ketch, and the duo stepped out. OPEN TO... [spoiler]VAAXIUS![/spoiler]

"Tough luck pal just hand over that to a superior" "I earned this armor through trials" "I earned it through killing you" *A warlock shot another one and stole his rare armor. It was a set of trials armor and voidfang vestements. The warlock equipped it. It looked no different than his armor but it certainly was stronger* (So Cregan has a year two set of trials armor now)

Will you take me flawless?

In the Cosmodrome, snow falls from dark clouds, layering the ground with fresh snow. Fallen verse hive all around Russia, the Taken leaving this area be for a while, leaving the Fire-team Breaker standing alone in the middle of the Mothyard Plane wreckages. They stand in a line, waiting, each one preparing themselves for a fight. All three are Guardians, each one a different class. One a NightStalker, with a Dead Zone Revolution cloak blowing in the Snowy breeze. Her name is Alice Long. One a SunBreaker, with two Grenades being juggled in one hand. His name is Quinn-2. One a StormCaller, with lightning bouncing around her gloves. Her name is Tellio Taynt. They stand there, waiting for a challenge of three to approach for single combat. [spoiler] Open to anyone, but max of three (other than me). Be prepared for a long battle, and go off of the bottom reply please. See ya on the field, challenger. [/spoiler]

He was dying Aquarius had picked a fight with a kell. One of the strongest things he had ever seen. Aquarius was losing. As the kell dangled the piece of scrap metal by the throat, Aquarius gave up. As he expected die, a spark of light appeared in his hand, it felt good. He could morph it in his hand, he felt a knife was good enough to save him. As he morphed the knife in his hand, it started to spark, but he paid no mind. He thrusted the knife straight into the throat of the kell. The fallen stopped laughing, they hissed, they ran. "Damn, not even some cool piece of loot? Get back to the tower guardian." Cayde's voice buzzed in his ear. Aquarius could rest easy now. [spoiler]someone please pick up from here or help branch out.[/spoiler]

Clarrisa is knocked back and lands on her feet in a manor that stops her from flying back. She figures that guns won't work the best on this Minotaur, it seems extremely bullet resistant. Clarrisa pulls out a box about the length of her waist and about 2 and a half inches tall with a button on the side. She presses the button on it and the box quickly unfolds and expands into a Scythe. The blade was guided by metal reinforcements and the blade shone a glowing purple from the void light. The hadium blade arched back into a long metal rod with spots on it for a grip for maneuverability. It is all coloured black and it has a spear point on the end of the handle. She jumps up into the air and uses double jump to shoot herself towards the Minotaur, who didn't expect it at all and is cur across the torso but still working. She Shadesteps around behind the massive Titan of metal. She slices at its leg and the Minotaur falls to its knees before quickly regaining composure. This is a tough fight even with her custom Scythe. She slides under the Minotaurs legs and repeats her previous maneuver of jumping into the air and bending her momentum backwards and launching into the Minotaur but this time he correctly simulates the movements and smacks her out of the air. The giant Minotaur seems triumphant and Clarrisa uses this to her advantage. She slides towards him knowing he would counter and she holds up the scythe to block with void energy, she then swings 360 degrees and guts both the Minotaurs legs off. The mechanical Beast is panicking but not for long, because the Hunter jumps into the air and smashes the curved hadium blade of the scyth into the Minotaurs face. The Minotaurs body rapidly dissolves into white goo. The ground rumbles and quakes. Clarrisa calls out to her ghost, "ASTRA, WHATS GOING ON" Her ghost chirps up "I have.... No idea" "Shit....." Clarrisa mumbles as 3 more hulking large Minotaurs slide up from the white goo. Surrounding Clarrisa "They can multiply...." She refreshes the energy pool on her scythe and gets ready to fight for her life. ((OPEN))

[i]Apex and Parador stand outside of the wall, they talk and talk about whether or not to go in, wait a bit, or stay out completely A few of their Vex comrades show up and give their opinions[/i]