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About ConQuest

  • Birthday 07/23/1988
  1. We'll hello Ryrin, I apologize now if I accidentally call you Turin, my phone despises my existence, actually any touch screen seems to. I've been around since 09, but I seem to disappear too much. But no more! I say let him write!... If my wife doesn't need me, or one of my three daughters, or if I remember that I am a man and not a slave to the whim of the women in my life... But honestly, Im back now and I'm ready to destroy the seams of this world and make your minds explode with the intensity of my words, my stories will make you weep with happiness and scream in rage at the atrocity of the evil in mankind's heart. I will make the women swoon with anticipation and the men cringe with pain... Wait... What was I saying? HEY A QUARTER! *sprints off*
  2. *stumbles in the door with a very large bump on the top of his head the size of a watermelon (the seedless kind) and shuffles unsteadily through the room. In one hand he's holding a carseat with a bright pink blanket tucked around it, while in his other arm he's holding a blonde haired blue eyed three year old that is smarter than the man holding her. The reason for the shuffle is quickly found to be a 7 year old with her arms wraped around his leg while he stoically tried to march on, desperate to ignore the giggles coming from the floor behind himself.* Sorry for the leave of absence but when the reality stick strikes it doesn't joke around. I'mhere to escape! Plz help
  3. Dehimage The deed was done, the man was dead and his troop was out of commission, and he had survived. He needed to get out of here but he was just starring, exhausted, he had gone days without sleep, days following this monster at his feet. The woman on the side of the road had been avenged, and she could sleep in peace. Though it didn’t make him feel any better. Was he any better than the man at his feet? He had just killed these men, and he felt nothing about it. No pity, only anger, though not at the man at his feet any more, just at himself. “Can you walk?” And then he was moving; being pulled along at a quick pace, he could barely keep his feet below him. “Just until we get somewhere I can heal you,” he didn’t understand that last part, his mind just wasn’t working like it should. Darkness had fully taken hold now and all he could see was the shadows around him, her desperate pull of breath ahead let him know that it was still her leading him. He was too tired to question why she was helping, one foot in front of the other he told himself. She rushed into a dark alley nearby with him dragging behind. The smell was overpowering, it was as if all the rot in the world was sitting in the muck at their feet. The underbelly of the city thrived in this rot and always was on the lookout for the unlucky few who wandered into these dark twisting passages. He kept his last knife out and made sure to present it too any who got too close, twice they had to back track and only once he had to physically push a decrepit looking man who was missing most of his teeth, who decided to ignore his blade and go for a young woman. Dehimage shoved him into a wall, the following sickening thud told him that the man wasn’t getting back up any time soon and probably wouldn’t wake, if he was found by the others. They finally broke out into the open streets lit only by the moon. His face was now a steady throb and just breathing was becoming a challenge, and he was getting dizzy. He hadn’t had the time to staunch the blood from his arm. “I need to sit,” he found a comfortable looking rock and sat heavily on the ground, and leaned his head against the wall behind him. The woman crouched before him and all Dehimage could see were her brown eyes. “Even now you haunt me.” Visions started flashing through his mind, all the women he captured, all their faces, all their voices, always crying and screaming out for help that he never gave. He couldn’t help them, couldn’t take it back, he cried out that he was sorry but it never changed, always the same nightmare. An Icy cold raced through his body, washing all thoughts out of his mind,
  4. Dehimage Liquid Brown eyes, Brown eyes always staring into the distance, never to focus again. Always haunting, always accusing, “why?” those eyes seemed to ask. “why did you give me over to these monsters?” A few days ago he had stumbled across a young woman, Hair was fair, and skin still looked delicate, so out of place in the brushes on the side of the road. The smell of death was what lead him to her, with her dress tattered and body slightly mangled from the fight. The sight had brought about the nightmares with a vengeance, even in the day he would have them, tormenting him and driving him mad. He had to focus on his task, he had a mark to take out. A passerby hollering brought him from his thoughts; Days on the hunt left him exhausted. The anger burned inside of him still, rage that fueled an unending race to rid himself of these nightmares. He glanced around and found himself still across from the inn; the man’s horse was still at the stables so he knew he hadn’t missed him. Nothing about the inn had changed, except for the amount of foot traffic in the streets. That wouldn’t matter, he wasn’t about to cause a scene. The man was still inside the inn, probably finishing some other business that lords needed to do. With luck he saw the Mark step out into the street, and start walking away from his position. Standing Dehimage stretched his back out from sitting all night, and glanced into a window, looking to make sure his livery was in order. He looked as if he were just a messenger, someone who could walk in and out and get away quietly. The letter he was carrying was blank, but the seal had a slow acting poison that would quietly and painfully kill whoever touched it. Dehimage quickly caught up to the man just as the sun began setting, the failing light would help cover any features that he had failed to cover on himself. The man had acquired a few rough looking men as a body guard, but they were guarding the wrong threat. “My lord,” Dehimage called out, causing a loud clanging as his troop unceremoniously drew swords. “Fools, Lower your weapons,” The Lord smacked one in the back of his head with his cane, then another trying to get out of the ring of steel. “Buffoons. Now young man, what is it you needed?” He stopped just out of arms reach from Dehimage and placed his hands one over the other on his cane. A small seam ran around the outer edge, just below the decoration, told him that he was prepared to draw the hidden blade just in case. “Only a letter my Lord,” he said digging into his messenger pouch, making it seem as if there were more than one in there, pulling it out and examining it he then held it out. “Who, sent it?” he didn’t take the letter. “She didn’t say her name, my Lord, only your description and said it was of upmost importance.” Dehimage had prepared for a few questions thinking that it was going to be harder to make him belive but he must have been expecting news from someone because he took it and ripped it open. “Is this some kind of joke? Its blank.” He held out the letter to make his point. Looking befuddled he took the letter back and examined it himself, “my apologies sir but she said it was important.” He stuffed the letter back into his pouch so he could get rid of the poison later, he didn’t want it to get on any one else and have them get hurt for no reason. A gurgling sound made him look up. The man had his hand around his throat as if he couldn’t breathe. His hand had already begun swelling up, foam started coming from his mouth and he had begun to shake uncontrollably. Every one stepped back from him as if he had something catching. It figured the man had to be allergic to the poison. He dropped to his knees and then fell over, dead before his face hit the ground. Before he could try to escape the four guards decided to finally do their job and brought their swords at him. Having never fought with swords Dehimage didn’t know if they had skill or not, so the best way was to finish it fast. He rolled his shoulders to check the blades there, rolled his foot for the one there and pulled the two in each sleeve, he threw those and the landed in the throat of the two in front before they could take a step. The other two stepped over and charged at him crouching he drew the blade from his boot and rolled into the first man stabbing the man in the back of the leg bringing him down heavily and took the opening it caused into the last man. He seemed to be waiting for it and backhanded Dehimage away, causing him a busted lip and it felt like his jaw broke into a hundred pieces. He stood dizzy and disoriented but still alive, shaking his head he cleared his vision enough to see the sword flying to his face. He quickly dropped and kicked the man in the chest forcing him back and into the wall. Taking the opportunity to draw his blades from his back he grabbed one by the blade and tossed it with precision into the man’s bull of a neck. The fight finished, Dehimage checked his wounds, his jaw wasn’t broken, but it would heal funny if he didn’t get it set soon, he was losing blood too. The man’s sword and gotten him in the arm and he hadn’t realized it.
  5. I love that look on her face, it reminds me of my youngest :)

  6. YAY!!! it looks so, official. hmmm i really need to get started on some intro now so i can get rping soon, *sits and waits for bio to be cc'd*
  7. i love my little girl... attitude and all!!

  8. ah i see, i just use Eddies clones, thats the best way
  9. emotional pain can be physical depending on the severity, and sheilding a bond seems counter productinve if you have to maintain it...
  10. What would happen to a green with a multitude of warders, if oh say a dozen or so got wiped out all at once due to some epic ground folding attack by a Overpowered badie? if just one bonded dies and it criples the sences i couldnt imagine the physical pain to be endured
  11. is that supposed to be The sword that cant be touched, forgot the real name, I always pictured it a golden amber color the blue clashes with the color scheme
  12. Im not to sure about that though, in one of the books the reds have been found out for planting False dragons and taking them down. i belive that they have had it in their heads the whole time on making themselves more important than what they seem
  13. Didn't you go to high school... women are nasty to each other, its like a battle ground there, with all the subtle spikes into looks and such, i like the battles guys have to fight, the order of things is how much money you have and if you can hold your own in a fight. other than that there aint much to a guys hierarchy, women have so many issues with them selves that its a destructiveness that happens thoughout all social groups.
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