|
Post by LICH T. NOIR on May 2, 2012 12:32:48 GMT -6
As the cyborg reverted back to his original form the sword that he had managed to draw from the large chunk of seastone remained in it's transformed state. Lich looked over the blade carefully inspecting it's fine craftsmanship. The blade that had originally looked like any other had somehow mimicked the pirates zoan abilities and transformed it's self into the same Ethereal stone. The blades hardness now equal to seastone paired with O Wazamono grade sharpness would make for a fine sword indeed. As he turned the blade over it's ethereal stone began to give off it's own aura like energy, like the aura of the transformed supernova but without the sense of discord. The feeling of it's presence felt almost like the sword had become apart of the pirate, just maybe he'd be able to control the aura of the sword as well... However he felt no need to name the weapon. To him a weapon was nothing more than a tool to be used until it was no longer useful.
The blade smith brought forth a sheath for the weapon and presented it to Lich. As the blade was placed into the sheath the aura from the blade became locked away, unable to seep through the materiel that encased it. Lich turned and gave a nod of thanks to the man and went on his way, a show of courtesy and respect that was a rare sight to see coming from the cyborg. As he turned to make his way back to the rest of the event a large cyborg knight off to the side caught his attention, something about him seemed rather... familiar.
|
|
|
Post by ARTHURIA ZENITH on May 2, 2012 14:26:19 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style,width: 350,bTable][atrb=style,border-left: 2px solid #61b9f8; padding: 10; color: #3F3F3F;][style=float: left; padding: 2;] [style=border:1px solid#2973a5;background-color:3F3F3F;width:100px;height:100px;padding:8px;][/style][/style] [style=font-size: 22px; font-family: calibri; letter-spacing: -1px;]Arthuria Zenith[/style][style=border-right:10px solid #61b9f8; font-family: calibri; font-size: 11px; margin-left: 10; background-color: #3F3F3F; color: #61b9f8; display: block; width: 250px;]AGE: 19[/style][style=font-family: calibri; font-size: 10px; margin-left: 10;]FEMALE[/style][style=border-right:10px solid #61b9f8; font-size: 11px; margin-left: 10; background-color: #3F3F3F; font-family: calibri; color: #61b9f8; display: block; width: 250px;]WORDS: Enough ~[/style][style=font-family: calibri; font-size: 11px; margin-left: 10;]TAGS: All the little Arthurs[/style][style=border-right:10px solid #61b9f8; font-family: calibri; font-size: 11px; margin-left: 10; background-color: #3F3F3F; color: #61b9f8; display: block; width: 250px;]NOTES: Lucky ~ [/style] | [atrb=style,padding:10px;border-right:1px solid #61b9f8;][style=font-family:Arial Narrow;font-size:10px;text-align:center;margin-top:0px;letter-spacing:0px;color:#726963;]Augusta to Arturia? Seems like a perfect fit.[/style]
[style=margin:-20px 30px 10px 30px;text-align:justify;font-family:tahoma;font-size:10px;text-transform:lowercase;color:#8e8e8e;line-height:13px;]
It appeared that the goddess of luck was on Arthuria's side this time along with the goddess of wind as well it seemed. Because as she pulled, and the sword started to move slightly, wind started to burst more and more from the sword. The resistance became less and less until her hair and clothes were flapping in all directions with rotating winds. The roar of the crowd watching was completely blocked out by an opposing roaring of wind.
It seemed that she was chosen to wield this weapon, for it finally released itself from the rock. The power it exuded in her hands was almost addicting as the wind continued to rotate around her. It was only when she noticed the waiting eyes of the crowd around her, that the woman let her energy die down, and with it came the wind. Emotions seemed to run high with this blade, and it seemed glad to be free. After all, only fools try to chain the wind. It is the most free of all elements.
Being careful not to hit the blade on anything, Arthuria inspected it. As she had noted before, the craftsmanship was the best found anywhere in the world. In fact, this very sword was in her book of named blades. She flipped to the page and read about the sword named Zephyr, though it was already fairly obvious that it was related to the wind.
With a smile, Arthuria left with the blade, ready to have a sheath made that was worthy of such a blade. And the woman could feel the jubilation pouring from it. It must be happy to be free.
[/style] |
[/td][td][atrb=width,300][atrb=style,padding:10px;][style=font-family: [/table][style=font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: -1;]made by chariza of OTE[/style][/center]
|
|
|
Post by Solomon Deacon on May 6, 2012 19:40:45 GMT -6
Solomon Deacon strode through the crowd without any true sense of purpose. His steps had no direction and his walk kept him swerving form left to right and he maneuvered through the people and about the side shows. It wasn't particularly difficult to work his way between people, his rather dramatic appearance had cleared most the way. For today, Solomon Deacon had dawned his full garb!, making him look something like a sideshow himself with his ragged coat and clothes. Various foci hung from his body in the form of little dolls with clothes and pins in them, a chicken leg or two, a few vials of various chemicals, and of course Dynailie, his trained boa constrictor that wrapped lovingly around his neck. He'd even painted his face with the traditional skull of his craft.
The point that everyone should really take away here is that Solomon looked like what many think of classicly when the phrase Witch Doctor or Voodoo Man comes up. It was something of his shtick and he was rather good at it. People stepped to the side, and when one or two got a little too close Dynailie's head would perk up and stare them down. Lovely creature she was, Solomon couldn't help but affectionately pet her head. "Peace sweet Dynailie, they are no threat.". The serpent simply coiled once more around his arm and let it be, such a well trained girl.
As Solomon wondered the fair, he came across all manner of events. A eating contest that seemed to have rather disastrous results for the majority, but interesting rewards. Solomon considered competing solely to gain one of those rare fruits or veggies... but the other side... the failures. Well it was simply embarrassing, and Solomon wasn't sure he'd be able to salvage his self-image if he walked away pissing himself and belching the alphabet from a badly picked fruit. The next was a modelling contest, he rather enjoyed some of the competitor's entries, the lovely ladies and the power men that might make fine revolutionaries if given the right push. But that wasn't for him either, certainly not for lack of interest but rather lack of a swimsuit. Besides, he'd already gotten dressed up, he didn't want to change.
Wandering a bit more he found himself in a long line, with people stepping forward and attempting to pull a sword from a stone. Some were successful and a new sword was brought out, others were not and the next was allowed to try. A fine competition, failure didn't hurt his image and victory gave him a new toy.
As the competitors came and went he saw several people reveal skills he found... most intriguing. Devil fruit users mostly. Solomon contemplated the nature of these fruits as he waited in line, and concluded that he knew next to nothing about them, he'd have to study one if he ever got the chance.
Not long in the line he found himself at the front, looking down at the cool metal handle of a sword. He held his hand to his chin a moment and considered the problem. A sword in stone. Well, there wasn't much his poisons or chemicals could do to help, so the problem became a matter of simple pulling. He wasn't an expert on physics so no help trying to decide the weakest angle to pull at. Simple is best I suppose. Solomon thought to himself, grasping the sword and preparing to pull with all his strength.
As he did so Dynailie slithered along the length of the blade, preparing to pull as well, but he quickly reached down and pulled her back to his arm. "You mustn't coil around a blade dear, you'll only cut yourself." As he said this Dynailie looked back at the sword and then tightly wrapped her tail about Solomon's hand to help pull from there.
He smiled affectionately at the boa, and then pulled at the blade.
|
|